Ultimate shoulder rides

Here's a story I've edited a bit from an email I received about a month ago from a favorite correspondent friend.  It's based on what I believe is a true story, just enlarged here and there to add to the fun. Has anyone else had experiences like these?  It would be nice to hear about them.

David

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WHAT YOU DON'T SEE AT HALFTIME

My friend Scotty is on the wrestling team, like his gay partner Stan.  His folks have a big house in upstate New York with a gym and a nice secluded backyard pool in a deck that's good for barbecues,  It's not too far from school and he and Stan often stay there on weekends when Scotty's parents are away.  When it's warm Scotty likes to have a few friends over, like me and some other special friends on the cheerleader squad.  Pretty soon it will be warm enough for another barbecue like a weekend last May when my boyfriend Kenny and I plus three more cheerleader couples were invited to come over and party far into the night.  We brought steaks and burgers, hot dogs and beer, and some other stuff to drink as well, and had a great time.

The pool has sockets on the side for a volleyball net at the shallow end, and we lost no time getting down to bikinis and Speedos, ready to play, with two couples on each side and Scotty and Stan in back at the deep end for power serves. Pool volleyball is fun. We always play double-decker style with us girls riding the boys, high on their shoulders with our bare legs wrapped around their muscular torsos, close astride the backs of their necks.  When you're not putting on a show, it's nice to be able to concentrate on the feeling of hot crotches pressed astride strong, willing necks, which is very sexy but too distracting to think about keeping score.  We must have played for an hour, with the boys handing the ball up to their riders when it fell in the water, before we quit for dinner on the deck.  Scotty is tall and very muscular, and loves to carry anybody, and Stan's concentration of power serves didn't keep him from getting quite obviously aroused on Scotty's shoulders.  Wrestlers are into body contact.

After dinner it was getting dark. The volleyball net came down and we were back in the pool having chickenfights, and those of us who cared to got just drunk enough to make the competition kind of disorganized in spite of our athletic ability.  Sure enough, at one point I felt hands deftly unhooking my top, and I was left riding Kenny in my thong, whirling around madly with my bare boobs and hardened nipples plain to see.  Somehow all of us girls gradually seemed to lose all of our swimwear in the process of doing some pyramids in the water, which weren't quite as professional looking, considering the effects of beer and so forth, but were very stimulating and hilarious at the same time.  The girls were passed and thrown from one base to another, and as we lost our swimwear we got back to chickenfighting big time, switching partners and enjoying the unbeatable thrill of riding naked astride our excited partners' necks, racing across the pool and gripping with our bare legs while the boys bounced us around and lifted us two and three high with less than our usual sold sense of balance.

By the time the only light was the underwater pool lamp and the lights on the deck, the guys had their Speedos off.  Girls can get excited without being entirely obvious about it, but I noticed briefly that Scotty had his friend Stan clearly on the way to climax, naked on his friend's shoulders.  I also noticed the guys' unmistakable signs of arousal whenever I opened my eyes underwater during what I'm proud to say were the few times I got dumped from astride my mount.  Eventually we devised a really neat game in which Scotty and the four cheerleader guys formed a line with us girls riding them in a line of four.  The riderless guy in the back would swim between the legs of the other four guys to pop up in front, and we did forward, straight-armed cheerleader dismounts, except that instead of dismounting to the pool floor we spread our legs as we were raised in the air and moved forward to mount the guy just in front of us, locked our legs around his sides, and (let's face it) humped the back of his neck until the new riderless base popped up at the head of the line and it was time for another transfer.  After this eventually degenerated we were still riding around astride our excited horses, who were jumping and twisting and stimulating us just beautifully.  While I was in ecstasy riding Kenny I thought I detected something going on underwater, and brought a seeking foot around in front of him for just a moment to see what it was.  Sure enough, he and, I noticed, other guys too, were not about to bring their naked riders to climax without some special fun for themselves, and I even noticed that Scotty, with Stan riding him again, seemed to have hit on the same idea.

Isn't it wonderful what pleasure our bodies can provide?  I never do cheerleading, or even watch it, without wondering whether other cheerleaders take advantage of that kind of pleasure when they're not in the middle of a basketball court.