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.
