Summary: A female coach and a cheerleader fall for each other.
NOTE 1: This story is dedicated to Kayla...you are a dream!
NOTE 2: Thank you, Estragon, for continuing to edit my work.
NOTE 3: This is a Valentine's Contest Story so please vote!!!
*
How do you define love? Many would describe it as a man and a woman who can't live without each other, get married, have two kids, move to a house with a picket fence, and live happily ever, after watching TV reruns.
That is what I thought love was, at one point. Yet, after meeting Kayla, I have learned that there are many types of love and ways to express it. I love Kayla unconditionally. I love her for her beauty which overwhelms me; I love her for her tenderness which is so sweet; I love her for her heart and her compassion which knows no boundaries; and I love her for teaching me what real love is...unconditional acceptance.
If you ever saw how we live you might not call it love. You very likely would call it perverted or morally wrong...well, many of you would. Yet, it is my accepting that Kayla needs complete discipline, my complete ownership, that has made our relationship work. I am her owner now and she my pet. I make all her decisions now: what she wears in public, what she eats, what she reads...everything. This, in turn, makes her completely subservient to me, completely at my command and...makes her completely happy. She thrives on obedience in a way I can't explain. She obeys without reservation and I in return protect her from predators, keep her, and cherish her.
Our love may be unorthodox, but our love is purer, more mutually pleasurable, than any other love either of us has ever experienced.
One day, maybe I will tell the story of our day-to-day lives and just how loyal and obedient she is, but for now, I will tell the story of how we met and how she became mine.
Again this is a love story...not your parent's love story, maybe...but a love story nevertheless...OUR LOVE STORY!
FLASHBACK TO WHEN WE MET
They say that the Devil uses temptation as a way to make good people sin. Well, if that is the case, then Kayla is the Devil's masterpiece of temptation. The girl drips sex the same way honey drips sweetness. If you get one taste, you are forever addicted, and in my case the temptation becomes an obsession.
I have coached cheerleading for years. After divorcing my cheating husband, I was thirty, single and bitter. So when a new job came up in California, I applied, got it and moved halfway across the country to be the new cheerleading coach at a brand new college in California.
Now having been a cheerleader, I have had a variety of girl-on-girl sexual experiences in my life, although none since getting married almost seven years ago. I quit cold turkey, and although I often had lingering cravings, my husband was good in bed and my wi-vibe was a great back-up. But, being single again and after three disastrous first and only dates, I suddenly began to long the touch of a female.
Then came Kayla.
She was beautiful in the way you only see on movies. Her long blonde hair was silky smooth, her smile deviously naughty and her blue eyes hypnotic. The first time I saw her, my legs weakened and I knew I was in trouble. Oddly, the moment I spoke to her, I realized she was more than a pretty, blonde cheerleader wannabe...she was sweet, soft-spoken and strangely eager to please. For a young woman as ridiculously pretty as she was, she wasn't self-centered, egotistical or bitchy. No, she was shy, nervous and seemed to lack confidence.
During tryouts, she listened intently, worked her ass off and really showed her intelligence. When in her cheerleader's outfit, she morphed from shy girl to confident woman, from timid and nervous to organized and a bona fide leader. I pulled her to the side during our second week of tryouts and complimented her, not even remotely considering seducing her at the moment (even though if truth be told a couple of my best late-night self-pleasure fantasies included her as the main attraction), "Kayla, you are a natural leader."
She replied softly, as if embarrassed to be complimented, "Thank you, Miss Patel."
I put my hand on her shoulder, still completely innocently, "No seriously, Kayla, you have amazing potential."
Her cheeks went red and she stammered, "T-t-thanks, Miss Patel, your approval means a lot to me." Her eyes turned from mine and I suddenly wondered if she was attracted to me. I pushed the thought quickly away, as at twenty-one or so she was nine years younger than me. It was absurd; although I am relatively attractive, I am not even in the same hemisphere of beauty as Kayla.
I am 5'5, with long straight brown hair, black eyes, firm legs and rather large 36D breasts, which I found more a hindrance than a blessing. First of all, as a cheerleader smaller breasts are obviously more convenient and as a fitness nut who jogged every day, I could never find a sports bra that properly supported my breasts.
For the next couple of days, I began to notice that Kayla was taking lingering glances at me, and more specifically at my breasts, during our practices. The more I considered it, the more I began to wonder if perhaps she was bi-curious, although I doubted she had ever been intimate with a woman.
My own curiosity leading the way, I attempted to spend more time with the pretty blonde. After practice, I suggested, "Kayla, I would love to get your opinion on a few new ideas I have for routines."
Her face went red as she answered. She genuinely seemed surprised I wanted her thoughts. "You really want my opinion?"
"Of course, Kayla," I answered, my hand again going to her shoulder. I allowed it to linger on her perfectly tanned skin longer than socially acceptable, but not long enough to make my naughty wanton desires too obvious.
She answered, her submissive tendency clearly showing, "Anything you wish, Miss Patel."
"You are such a good girl," I replied, vaguely suggesting a relationship where she would be utterly obedient to me.
Her face blushed even redder as she answered, "Yes, Miss Patel."
She left to finish her routines. After practice, we spent an hour talking and I was amazed at how, once she got comfortable with our conversation, her ideas flowed with such creativity and ambition that I had to rein her in. She glowed with such light that I wanted to devour her whole. I wanted to kiss her glossy lips, which I imagined were as soft and sweet as she was.
That night I fantasized her posing for me. I imagined her long blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders, her lips puckered just enough to imply she wanted to be kissed. Her outfit left little to my imagination, as each curve was accentuated by her white dress.
*****
In the fantasy she repeated the tempting words, "Anything you wish, Miss Patel".
I replied, "You have to be careful how you choose your words, Kayla; someone could spin those words against you."
She asked innocently, "How could you spin those words against me, Miss Patel?"
"Oh, Kayla, I was just pointing out how your innocence could be used against you."
"I don't understand," she responded, confused.
"Well," I said, walking over to her, my hand going to her shoulders. "If I was a lesbian, I could saunter over to you, put my hands on your shoulders and lead you to your knees."
I did exactly that and she fell to her knees. Her eyes looked up at me and she asked, stammering just slightly, "T-t-then what could happen?"
"I could lift up my skirt," I began, which I did, "and order you to lick my delicious pussy and make you my little personal pussy-pleaser."
She broke eye contact and stared at my sweet pussy and light patch of black pubic hair. Her lips broke into a lustful smile and she waited further instruction.
I asked, "Are you still willing to do anything I wish?"
"Yes, Miss Patel," she replied.
"I want your pretty face buried in my wet pussy," I said.
"Yes, Miss Patel, anything you wish," she replied, like the submissive little bombshell she was. She leaned forward, extended her tongue and began licking my pussy.
The fantasy had me coming hard, and I fell asleep pondering ways to seduce her.
*****
The next day, after practice was done, I saw something that proved every assumption about Kayla I had correct, and also put me in an awkward situation. Practice was done and I had left the field to go to another meeting when I realized I left my keys on a bench. Turning the corner, I froze in my tracks.
Kayla was posing for two of my other cheerleaders. She was lifting up her skirt, without her panties, which I was certain she had been wearing earlier because of the kicks she had been doing during practice. She was looking back seductively, smiling slightly at Kelly and Laura.
