It was Friday, the night of the social, and the five of us would be showing up at the clubhouse at around eight.
Ever since our session together on Wednesday night, the other three girls had been impressed with the performance Caroline and I had put on together, and all four of them had been in awe somewhat of how much horniness I had, and the depth of my thirst. In fact, they had been talking of nothing else since then, and although it was only two days later, I was already getting sick of hearing about it.
"Yeah, OK, guys," I said with a sigh, as Becky struck up yet another brief convo about my prowess in the bedroom. "I've heard it, OK?"
"I know," said the head cheerleader. "It's just that -- it was kind of spectacular, you know?"
"Yes. I know."
"It was cool," said Daphne.
"It was hot, more like," remarked Caroline.
We were walking along a pathway between some grass that led towards the clubhouse, and I was leading the way instead of Becky, which I considered unusual. However, since Wednesday night, Becky had been letting me walk in front. Not that it mattered, but I had noticed it. I felt irritated. I turned abruptly to face them. "Now, look," I began. "Becky, you lead the way. You're the head -- you go first."
"No, it's OK," she smiled. "We're happy to follow you."
"Look, if this is about the other night, I don't see what that's got to do with deciding I need to be followed, or that you've gotta walk two steps behind, or some junk. The fact is, any of you could have done what I did with Caroline, and Caroline could do it, too."
"Huh! I don't think so," said Emma.
I turned to her. "Why not? I could. I'm nothing special. What gives?"
"You were so majorly thirsty," remarked Daphne. "Like, most of us were kinda horny that night; but, like, KINDA horny, that was all. Where do you get that level of turn-on? I don't think I could manage it."
"Me neither," said Emma.
"You were like a wild thing with that huge strap-on, Ange," said Becky. "That's the biggest dildo we've got, and you pounded Caroline with it like some out-of-control mountain man who hasn't seen a woman for ten years."
"It was awesome," agreed Caroline, with stars in her eyes.
I stood there, legs akimbo, and put my hands on my hips. We were all dressed in our cheerleader uniforms, all blue and white short skirts, white socks and sneakers, and stretch nylon tops over our breasts, with bare midriffs. However, since this was a party we were going to, we had left the pom-poms at the dorm. "It's not that big a deal," I said. "Listen! All you have to do is be confident -- confident in your sexuality. I don't mean just try to be happy with your body or how your boobs look in the mirror or be chuffed that you managed to get off three times in the bathroom last weekend. What I mean is -" I paused, trying to put it into words. "Be confident in what you can offer someone else. Decide you wanna give someone pleasure, and go for it. Own it. That's what lesbians do. How is it they get orgasms eighty-six percent of the time when they have sex but straight women only get sixty-five percent? Stop worrying about what you look like when you're having sex and just give her what she needs and what you want to give her." With that, I turned back around and walked on.
I knew that the girls would be talking about me, and I worried somewhat whether the head cheerleader might think I was trying to rival her. I wasn't, since she was better at cheerleading than I was and obviously knew what she was doing. Yet, even though I was only eighteen, I figured I knew more about sex, at least in attitude, so I felt entitled to lead where I could.
We entered the clubhouse. Around seven or eight of the college American football team were already present, and the guys were sitting around a large table on some wooden chairs, while over to the right there was a sofa and two armchairs, strategically arranged in front of a huge flatscreen TV to watch sport. The guys at the table had some bottles of beer open, plus there were some potato chips and other snacks laid out on plates and bowls. There were two players sitting near the TV -- one on the sofa and another on one of the armchairs.
A whoop went up as we entered. "Yay, the girls are here!" cried Rich, who was a big, six-foot-four guy with blond hair. The other guys reacted similarly as five hot babes entered their clubhouse.
Brad, the six-foot-two dark-haired player, gestured to the bottles of Bud on the table. "Hey, girls, help yourself to some beers," he smiled. Becky and Daphne took him up on his offer, and sat down at the table, digging into the food the guys had laid on.
Emma was less impressed with the fare. "Got any soda?" she asked Cameron, who was big but tended to be a little shyer than the other guys.
"Er, yeah, just a sec," he answered, reaching up to open some cupboards in the makeshift kitchen area that made up half the clubhouse.
I followed Emma, figuring I wasn't about to get totally wasted and end up being taken advantage of. I had to have my wits about me if I was planning to seduce Coach Saxon.
Cameron produced some two-liter bottles of 7-Up and Fanta, and a couple of glasses. "Ta-da!" he announced.
Smiling, Emma and I accepted them and sat down with the two other girls.
Caroline totally ignored the refreshments and headed over to the sofa to sit next to dishy Martin, who was talking to Greg. I watched her as she immediately cosied up to him, putting her hand on his shoulder and crossed her legs, so that her sexy thighs were on full display under her cheerleader skirt. Wow, I thought. She's wasting no time. I began to wonder whether I had overdone it two nights ago. Now she had experienced a huge eight-inch dildo, she was desperate to experience the real thing, and was throwing caution to the wind to make sure she got it. I had no idea how big "down there" Martin was, and I don't think Caroline knew either. It was just a case of "pick one and hope", as far as I could see. Hmm.
The next half-hour to forty-five minutes was spent socializing, as we hung out with the guys, laughed, blew off steam, made crummy jokes, and basically goofed off.
Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door that made me jump. Cameron got the door and opened it. Coach Jake Saxon and the remaining four players, who had been practicing, suddenly strode in, and I sensed an immediate upping of the vibe.
"All right, guys," began Coach Saxon. He turned to acknowledge the female contingent. "Ladies," he nodded. Turning back to the players, he continued. "Practice is on tomorrow at 8am sharp -- don't miss it. Meet me at the fifty-yard line and we'll run through some last-minute strategy before we face our opponents next week."
"Coach, relax," responded Brad, wearily. "We've got bags of time. Most of us are free this weekend -- we've got a whole five days to practice on weekdays."
Saxon sniffed. "Five EVENINGS, Brad, evenings -- not days. That won't be enough time to get you up to speed before the big game."
"I've got other things to do this weekend besides football," said Brad.
"Yeah, same here," added Cameron.
"I feel I've done nothing but play football every evening for the past three weeks, Coach," remarked Rich. "Can we lay off that and kick back a little tonight?"
"Yeah," added Martin, pushing Caroline away gently and coming over from the sofa. "We could use some chill time this weekend. Then we'll be fresh and ready on Monday."
Coach Saxon looked around, unimpressed. "Well, huh. So this is it, huh? Gonna just waste time and shoot the breeze?"
One of the guys who had come in with Saxon, Matt, spoke up. "You did tell them they could have a social tonight, Coach. This is it. It's not like we're hitting up bars or going crazy taking drugs or some junk. It's just a couple of beers."
Another of them, John, said, "Yeah, and the girls are here -- we thought it would be fun to invite them over, since they've been hard at work practicing to support us next week."
