SCOTT'S STORY
It was unseasonably cold. In fact it was fucking freezing and I was beginning to wish I hadn't bothered coming. I shivered as I turned in my car seat and looked around the parking lot. From what I could see there were plenty of spaces. Mind you it was ridiculously large for the size of stadium it served. Maybe the locals knew that the weather was going to deteriorate further and had wisely stayed at home. Either that or it was because this season was already a bust. I'd already been reliably informed by more than one disgruntled local fan that the hometown team stunk. Even the girl at the ticket office in town had seemed surprised when I asked her for a ticket in the best seats. This was semi pro football at it's finest.
I exited my car and shivered again as the sun finally disappeared behind the main stand and what little warmth it had provided went with it. It was a short walk to the arena but as a cold, icy blast of wind hit me, I hunkered down lower into my jacket, wishing I'd brought my winter coat and a hat with me.
I got inside and took my seat. This was not looking good, not good at all. I pursed my lips and reflected on what effect this would have on the evening's entertainment. With a less than full house, would the cheerleaders be motivated enough to go through their entire routine?
The PA suddenly crackled into life making me jump, loud music blasting from the speakers as the stadium announcer implored the crowd to welcome the hometown cheerleaders onto the field. I straightened myself up in my seat, my interest piqued. This was the reason I was here. I wasn't the remotest bit interested in the game that was about to be played. For me it was all about selecting my latest victim.
You see, the thing is, I have a hobby. I know that's not unusual, a lot of people have hobbies. They play sports or collect stamps or coins or even beer coasters. But my hobby is slightly different.
I collect cheerleaders!
Yeah, I know! I'm a pervert, some may even call me a stalker, but before you start rolling your eyes, let me explain.
My life changing epiphany happened because of a television program. I was at a loose end romantically, no steady girlfriend, not even a friend with benefits to fall back on. I was in a rut when it came to members of the opposite sex. It was probably because I was still damaged emotionally from my short lived relationship with a high maintenance girl from Boston.
The show was a sort of funny, spoof documentary about a particular NFL team. It was only a short film, no more than ten or fifteen minutes long, the host being a well known national newspaper columnist who occasionally would wander over into the visual media.
I can't remember much about the show but what caught my attention was when the camera ran down a long line of the team cheerleaders as they waited in the tunnel to go out onto the field. I saw her immediately. Even though the camera only lingered on her for the briefest of moments it was enough to set my pulse rate soaring.
She was simply stunning. Long black hair, a flash of blue eyes, full red lips and a beautiful smile. Oh ... and a killer rack as well. But what struck me the most was the look on her face. She looked so shy and vulnerable, almost as if she felt she had no right to be there. Her smile had that hint of nervousness about it. I was smitten. I had to find her.
After a night spent scouring the internet, I knew her name and roughly where she lived. The next day I boarded a flight to St Louis.
It took me a while to seduce her. After all it wasn't as if I was in a rush. She wasn't married but she did have a steady boyfriend, so I did get a sense of satisfaction when I finally fucked her. She was pretty good in the sack, so I did hang around for a few days after. But it was never going to lead anywhere. For one thing I didn't want it to, and secondly she wasn't blessed with a whole lot of intelligence, which made our post coital discussions a bit one sided.
The shy, vulnerable, nervousness she exhibited in front of the TV cameras was because she was pretty much bewildered all of the time by everything that was going on around her. I left her to try and patch things up with her boyfriend.
However, my success in nailing this beautiful creature, and the way the whole crazy thing had come about gave me much food for thought. Perhaps this was what I needed to get me out of my funk. I really got a buzz out of the chase, from the initial investigation into her background all the way through to my seduction. And for future reference, I discovered there were multiple layers in between that I could veer off into if needed, which could serve to make the whole thing immensely satisfying.
After a couple of days thinking about the possibilities on offer and formulating and then mulling over my strategy, I made out a long list of sports teams that had cheerleaders and made my first selection. My new hobby had begun.
It started off slow to begin with. I was understandably nervous as I developed my tactics but with each success so my confidence grew. Each seduction was different, so I invested my time to make sure it was as perfect as I could make it.
I became very good at it and the hobby became somewhat of an obsession over the next two to three years. I spent my time drifting from town to town or city to city selecting cheerleaders from the NFL and the NCAA. The ultimate goal was simple enough. I'd seduce them, fuck them and then leave town. Nothing wrong with that I suppose. They're just women after all and a large percentage of them were single.
As an aside, that line about them just being women? I just threw that in as a joke! I'm not a misogynist, I love women.
The trouble was it then began to get boring. Without wishing to brag, I'm a pretty good looking guy; or so I've been told; and the single girls, especially the college girls, became all too easy to pick up. It wasn't long before I realised I needed a bigger challenge.
My solution was simple. I decided to focus on those cheerleaders that were either in a relationship or better still, married. Straight away this limited my choices and added to my problems. I was already incredibly picky. I have standards and a strict criteria that must be met, so my selection process was quite vigorous.
So it was because of these standards that I had now run out of NFL teams to troll. The NCAA had proved to be a waste of time, so I was now left scouring the semi pro league. Once that was exhausted, I'd have to find some other sports. Basketball is an obvious one but I don't particularly like the game. Maybe the grid girls from motor-sport might be an interesting avenue to explore?
Anyway, back to tonight. I focused on the cheerleaders in front of me as the crowd in the stand stamped their feet and shouted some quite ribald, borderline sexist, terms of endearment to them as they took their positions in the first formation for the pre-game warm up. Despite the cold they were wearing some pretty skimpy clothes, especially their shorts, which were borderline pornographic given how high they rode up into their butt cracks, exposing most of their ass cheeks. Not that I was complaining of course.
I reached into my coat pocket and extricated a small pair of binoculars. Bringing them to my eyes I scanned the line of women who stood waiting patiently in the middle of the arena to begin their routine. Each one had one leg cocked at the knee, their arms held so that their pompoms rested on their hips.
I began to work my way down the line, looking for a likely candidate.
"No... No... Ugh christ no... No... Definitely not!" It didn't take me long to discount them one by one as I panned from right to left. Told you I was picky!
My method of selection was fairly straightforward. First I would look at their face and hair. Obviously they were all reasonably attractive or they wouldn't be cheer-leaders to start with but I wasn't interested in anyone that looked like they had a permanent smile etched on their face by plastic surgery. I craved natural. You see what I mean. Strict criteria.
"Hello, possibility..." I muttered to myself. "Oh no, I guess not."
