Owen VS the Cheerleader - part 2! (Patreon)

Winner of the latest "What Happens Next" poll, just narrowly edging out the Park Ranger!

Much thanks and love to all of you wonderful perverts! Be safe out there!

Part 1 is right here:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/owen-vs-15447494

And the story that goes with it:
OWEN VS THE SENIOR CLASS

CHAPTER ONE – HOMECOMING

Blake was extremely specific and emphatic with the first target on her hit list; a cheerleader names Kira. A cute Irish girl with wonderful legs, a round, toned butt and small but perky boobs that quivered delightfully when she laughed.

Owen had never had a class with her, and didn’t really know the girl, but she seemed sweet and easy-going. Kira seemed to get along with everyone in the senior class- everyone except Blake. Owen wondered what kind of baggage the two had…

Blake was also quite specific about when and where Ms. Kira should be stripped- the halftime performance at the Homecoming game. Owen had never attended a football game before- it was boring as hell. But he made sure to get there early to get the seat he wanted- directly behind the cheerleaders’ bench, three rows back.

Since it was a crisp autumn day, Owen brought a blanket- doubly useful in case his venture conjured up the usual embarrassing side effect on his pants. Owen didn’t spot Blake anywhere in the crowd, but no doubt she had a good view, probably ready to livestream.

Owen spent the first half studying the cheerleaders’ uniform. Pretty standard- a blue & white sweater (that gave nice glimpses of tummy), a short matching accordion skirt and white sneakers.

And of course those white panties-that-aren’t-really-panties. Owen hated those things- what a lie! What a tease! Owen decided that is where to start. He had a good view of Kira, sitting on the bench, her short skirt not quite covering that round tush of hers...

He reached out with his mind, feeling the seams of those fake panties on either hip, plucking them apart, thread by thread. This was subtle work, much finer control that he had ever tried to exert—

Something was slithering up his leg! Inside his pants! A HAND!

Owen and Kira both yelped in surprise. No doubt Kira felt Owen’s power spaz out and poke her hip.

A sultry voice whispered from under the bleacher, just loud enough for Owen. “Ooooowen, don’t be afraid,” Blake purred. “I was just worried you might not be feeling motivated today…”

Her hand slipped higher up the loose leg of his corduroy trousers, caressing his knee. “It’s almost halftime, Owen. Time for the big show.”

Owen was instantly thankful he brought the blanket.

He swallowed and refocused his concentration. A few more threads and both seams were severed. Kira’s modest bloomers were about to abandon her.

And not a moment too soon! The cheerleaders leaped off the bench, jazzed to dive into their routine.

Kira instantly realized something was wrong. A glance back confirmed it- the ruin of her white bloomers left in a heap on the bench. And Owen quickly discovered what she was hiding under those bloomers- a hot pink athletic thong, flashing under that tiny bouncy skirt and disappearing between the cheeks of her pale ass.

Kira struggled in vain to manage her tiny skirt, but the crowd quickly realized that Kira’s panties weren’t quite regulation. She quickly found herself in a dilemma- deliver her best performance for her squad or protect her modesty…

The routine was very energetic and bouncy, flashing her pink undies and bare cheeks over and over. Before she could even contemplate whether or not to do her handsprings, muscle memory had already decided.

The crowd gasped collectively at the sight of that narrow ribbon of pink underwear, stretched tight over the soft mound of Kira’s vulva.

“Yes!” hissed Blake. “MORE! “ Her other hand crept up the blanket, inching towards Owen’s groin.

Owen’s brain was drunk with lust. Blake’s manicured fingertip delicately scratched the corduroy-covered bulge in Owen’s trousers—the was officially the most “below the waist” contact he’s ever had from a non-medical professional female.

He swallowed, trying to focus his concentration, locking in a bra he couldn’t see. Feeling under Kira’s sweater with his mind’s eye…

A sports bra… Blood was surging every which way in Owen. While the bloomers were surgery, this was a bit more… barbaric. The bra tore to ribbons under Kira’s sweater, falling to the grass in white tatters. Her pert young breasts sprang to life under the blue & white sweater, jiggle and shaking to the routine.

Kira reflexively cupped her liberated breasts through her sweater. Someone… or something had just ripped her bra off in from of hundreds of people. Her growing agitation, and the material of the sweater, had piqued her nipples. Sensitive and electric, they poked at her sweater.

Blake grabbed his erection cruelly through his pants. “Quit screwing around!” she snarled. “I want her NAKED. In front of everyone!”

Owen squeaked in obedience.

A slave to the routine, Kira stuck to her move, even though the panic and embarrassment was all over her face. As she flipped through a handspring, Owen took hold of her hot pink panties, and deftly yanked them down her smooth thighs, her calves and over her sneakers in a single motion.

The hot pink undies twirled through the air, landing at midfield.

And EVERYONE saw it. Including the lingering, half-second flash of her soft, hairless pussy.

Kira froze. One hand thrusting her skirt between the cheeks of her bare ass. The only pressing her dainty skirt into her naked sex, teased by the cool Autumn breeze.

By now the rest of the squad was aware that something was wrong with her, although aside from her lewdly-pointing nipples, they were not quite sure what it was.

Although Kira had given up on her routine, the routine had not given up on her. Two teammates grabbed her under the arms, preparing to hoist her into the air. Kira panicked and flailed.

Her teammates lifted Kira’s sweater, but not Kira!

She tumbled to the ground, nude from the waist up, lovely pale breasts capped with small pink nipples.

A wave of cheers, laughter and catcalls surged from the bleachers, none louder than Blake. She maintained her lock on his aching erection, although grip had become more agreeable.

Kira wobbled to her feet, knees trembling. She cupped her bare tits and made an awkward dash for the distant locker rooms. Her bare ass flashed under the tiny skirt.

Blake squeezed. “ALL of it!”

Owen tugged at the skirt- it popped undone and slid down her thighs, binding up her knees. Kira tumbled to her knees in the end zone, her nude ass and bald pussy aimed skyward.

She whimpered in agonizing humiliation. A hundred camera phones turned her way, recording every bare inch of her nubile body.

Once more Kira gathered her wits, struggling to her feet. Her pert breasts trembled in the effort. Cupping her pussy, Kira dashed for the locker room.

Owen kept the skirt in a tangle at her knees, forcing her to run in tiny, mincing steps the tortuous distance to the locker rooms, making Kira’s sexy bare ass wiggle in the autumn sunshine. Too soon she vanished behind the steel door of the Womens’ locker room.

The crowd was a fever of breathless scandal and lust. Blake released her death grip on Owen’s erection, with a playful pat.

“Good boy.”