PROLOGUE
Hi! I'm Angela, I'm eighteen years old and I've been studying at North West State University for the last five months. I'm living in a student dorm after leaving home last September and I've met a bevy of great female friends. There's Becky, Caroline, Daphne and Emma, and the five of us make up the college cheerleading squad.
At home, it never really occurred to me that I was beautiful, although I guess I'm conventionally good-looking, maybe even great-looking, in fact: I have long, brown, wavy hair, medium-sized 34C breasts, an athletic body, and long, smooth legs, plus a tight butt that sticks out when I wear the short cheerleading skirt I need to wear.
Now, though, I have discovered the joys of being desired, popular, the center of attention and the male gaze, where guys all across campus look at me and dream to be with me -- to date me, kiss me, love me, and eff me; and all this has transformed my opinion of myself.
Now I have the confidence to flirt, banter and attract all kinds of men, plus I have really begun to explore my body as a sexual being. I have used my time in the dorm to explore my body, my breasts, my pussy; and have had many hot self-sessions in the dorm showers.
It helps to be surrounded by four other gorgeous women cheerleaders, too. Becky is tall, blond, with fabulous 34D breasts, complete with wide areolae and pointed, luscious nipples, an athletic body slightly curvier than mine, and equally long legs; Caroline is dark-haired, with a curvy body, somewhat shorter, but with big, round breasts and long nipples, plus thicker legs; Daphne is a lighter, ash blonde with a more willowy frame, smaller breasts, maybe 32B, but perfectly formed and firm, with a long torso, slim hips and the longest legs among us; while Emma is a redhead, with dead straight hair, pale, white skin, bright pink nipples, fleshy, yummy breasts, wide hips and muscled legs.
I know all this about their bodies because we have come to exploring each other's bodies in the dorm room, and now I know their bodies almost as well as I do my own.
Six weeks ago, all five of us attended a small party in the football clubhouse over by the college stadium, where we met the team of jocks representing NWSU's football team. Things went well until one of the shyer guys drank too much beer and bumped his head when he passed out on the floor. He went to hospital to be treated for concussion.
That was bad for him, but it was great for me, since I had a major crush on Coach Jake Saxon, who was a senior just last year and had come back this year to informally coach the team. I'm only eighteen, so he dismissed me as just some ditzy freshman, but after I marshaled the players and cheerleaders and helped one of his players at the hospital, he'd been impressed by the maturity I had displayed. One thing had led to another, and we had ended up in bed together back at his place and had had THE. BEST. SEX. EVER.
However, just two weeks later, Jake yelled at my friends when they refused to join a competitive cheerleading competition held in the civic center downtown. I decided this was a red flag, and we had an argument and split up. I still went to the competition alone, though. The civic center was under repair, and when I accidentally walked into the men's toilets because some dufus construction worker had taken the signs off the door, I had come face-to-face with Patrick, one of the male cheerleaders in another team. He had flirted, and we agreed to meet up at the gym in the same building at twelve, where we had a fantastic, incredible sex session, helped by his well-endowed status.
We went out for a month, before he suddenly told me that his team had qualified to go on a national tour. I was thrilled for him, but not when he told me he would be away for four weeks. We agreed that it would be unfair on both of us to expect absolute fidelity from each other while apart, after dating for such a short time, and instead agreed to make up for lost time by him getting together with all five of us for some personal time when he got back.
I had felt down about his departure, but a chance meeting with a somewhat hardcore lesbian in the college canteen had transformed me in both attitude and opinion. I raced back to the dorm and, after purchasing a dildo at a sex store, the five of us cheerleaders had the best sex session we'd ever experienced.
Well, the four weeks went by, and Patrick came back. The other four girls were totally excited to experience his huge manhood. I, on the other hand, was curious to know whether he had scored with any other woman while he was away on tour with the guys, and admitted to the girls that if he had, it was over between Patrick and I. This annoyed the girls, who reminded me of my promise and told me straight up that I was acting like an idiot. They were right. When Patrick walked through the door, I found out that he hadn't been with any other women anyway, and the five of us rewarded him with the most incredible group sex of his life.
However, now this has awakened within the five of us a hungry desire for more hot action with guys, especially those more well-endowed. Patrick is a male competitive cheerleader, and thus needs to be away from me to train with his team, which is a bummer. Perhaps the football team we cheered for is ripe for seduction. The only problem is, my ex, Jake Saxon, is still the coach...
CHAPTER ONE
We were all in the dorm, all horny, and it was Friday night.
"Well, huh," said Becky. "That session with Patrick last week was awesome."
"It was," I agreed.
"Man, I can't get over that guy's appendage," remarked Emma.
"Nine inches is pretty spectacular," agreed Caroline.
"For a light-framed woman like me, I go for girth over length, and that seven-inch girth was something else," added Daphne.
"Mm," said Emma. "What do you think, ladies? Girth, or length? Which one is better?"
"Girth, definitely," said Caroline.
"No way," I said. "I want deep. Fill me up, baby -- right up to the bumper."
"That can be painful, hun," remarked Becky. "If he bumps against the cervix, it feels the same as a man being kicked in the balls. Not good."
"Introducing orgasms," I continued. "Ever heard of them?"
"What have they got to do with it?" asked Emma.
"Don't you know?" I replied, slightly incredulous. "The whole point of female orgasms is to arouse the vagina. When you're building up to a climax, the back of your pussy expands like a balloon, and the cervix moves up to the front wall and out of the way. Bumping the cervix is done by clueless guys who don't give you an orgasm before intercourse."
"Really? I didn't know that," stated Becky.
"Neither did I," admitted Caroline. "I didn't know the cervix could move."
"Yeah, I thought its job was to let sperm in, but not the penis. Otherwise, if you've got a baby in there, babykins gets stabbed in the back by a huge cock every time. If the cervix is moving around, how's it supposed to protect the baby?"
"That's garbage," I maintained. "Orgasms move the uterus up to the front of the body, so the cervix moves up, too. Then contractions move it back down again. That's what makes orgasms feel good. If there's a baby inside, that's why it sticks out of the front of the body, not the sides. Then, when you give birth, contractions flatten the uterus straight again, pushing out the baby."
"Wow, listen to Little Miss Gynecologist over there," said Becky. "Where did you get all this knowledge from -- 'Call the Midwife', or something?"
They all laughed.
"I just wanna be educated about my body when I'm sexually active. Knowledge is power," I stated, firmly.
"Well, whatever," said Emma. "I like girth."
"Sorry, length for me," said Becky.
"What on earth," I remonstrated. "So girth wins, three to two. Yet just now you were all saying how awesome it was to be with Patrick, my boyfriend. So you're saying that if his cock was seven-inch girth, like it is, but only a four-inch length, you would still bang that thing?"
"That would look weird," remarked Becky.
"Like effing a doorknob," said Emma.
More peals of laughter.
"OK, then, I give in," said Caroline. "I'm changing to length. I had a really great time feeling those nine inches."
"Yeah, me, too," said Emma.
"Right, so are we on four-one to length, then?" I asked.
