Hungry Cheerleader

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, now the four weeks are almost over, and Patrick's coming back. The other four girls are totally excited to experience his huge manhood. I, on the other hand, am curious to know whether he scored with any other woman while he was away on tour with the guys...

CHAPTER ONE

"Well, he should be here any minute," I announced to the four other women across the dorm. "He said he would be arriving at 2:30."

"It's 2:10 now," said Emma, looking at her watch.

Daphne sidled up to me. "Looking forward to reacquainting yourself with your man, Ange?" she smirked.

"And his huge cock?" asked Caroline, with a grin.

I raised one hand. "Enough already. The fact is, I wanna know what he's been up to."

"Cheerleading, like us, silly," said our head cheerleader, Becky, walking towards me.

I bit my lower lip. "I know." I paused.

Caroline put one hand on her hip. "If you're concerned whether he's seen any other women, you know the score."

"Yeah, you told him straight yourself," added Emma.

Daphne softened. "You said you didn't need him to be faithful, because you didn't think you would be able to yourself."

I sighed, then looked at my four friends in turn. "It's just that -- I kind of hope in my heart that he was, even though I didn't force him to be. You know? Like, he refrained because he thought I was amazing, he thought sex with me was the best he'd ever had, because he thought I was special, and more special than any other woman he'd met, or would ever meet."

Becky put her hand on mine. "I know what you mean, hun; but you've been going out for FOUR WEEKS. You're talking like you're about to marry the guy and have six kids; plus you're a freshman and all of eighteen years old. What do you wanna do -- settle down in a country cottage like two peas in a pod, knitting woollen gloves in a rocking chair and talking about the good old days?"

"Yeah, babe," said Emma. "Like, eighteen is wild -- you've got a life of hot guys and even hotter sex to look forward to, amazing lovers to meet, places to go, countries to travel to, cultures to experience, sunsets to watch, kisses and hugs to enjoy from all manner of people, you name it; the sky's the limit."

"You can't -- and won't -- get all that from one guy, and it's a disaster to think that he's The One after just a month of dating," said Caroline.

"Right! Look at all the poor girls who got knocked up as teenagers and had a shotgun wedding, with four kids by the age of twenty-five and working at some greasy-spoon diner to pay the rent," said Daphne. "Is that what you want?"

I turned to look out of the window. "I guess not," I said, quietly.

"All this angst for an eight-inch cock," smiled Emma.

I burst out laughing. "It's not like that!"

Caroline came over. "Yeah, but the way you're acting, it's not far off it."

"No way!" I replied. "I don't care what size his cock is."

"Yeah, right!" cried Emma. "There are only thirty days in a month, babe, and you must have spent around eighteen of them effing that cock like your life depended on it; and on at least three occasions, twice a day. He's built like an athlete, and can pound that thing into you like you've never seen before. Face up to it, babe -- you couldn't get enough of that thing when you had it."

I thought back on my month of passion with Patrick. I guess there was some truth to what Emma was saying.

"So that's why you're feeling this way, I would venture," said Caroline. "The fact is, if his cock was four inches and he didn't have pecs and biceps and abs, and instead was some skinny dweeb with glasses and a beer belly, and was terrible in bed, would you feel the same way about his fidelity?"

I looked back out of the window again to think about that. The image of Patrick as an unattractive, sexually clueless dweeb declaring his undying fidelity to me filled me with apprehension.

"HA! I knew it," declared Caroline, smirking. She walked off.

I turned back to my friends, and looked at them briefly, before burying my head in my hands. "Oh, wow, girls," I stammered out. "You must think I'm so awful. I'm -- so -- shallow!"

They laughed good-naturedly.

"Don't sweat it, babe," smiled Daphne. "Every woman's been there at least once in her life."

"Or else she's lying," said Caroline.

"On top of that, can we mention something else?" added Emma. "A certain little session between ourselves that was super-wild, all thanks to Michelle the Sideboob Lesbian's canteen advice? Does that count?"

"Well, that was between ourselves," I said.

"It still counts, babe," Daphne remonstrated. "You can hardly call him out for being unfaithful to one woman he might have met in a hotel room someplace, when you've already effed Becky with a seven-inch dildo and given all our thirsty pussies some serious lovin'."

"Wow, that was awesome," remarked Becky, her eyes sparkling at the memory.

I sighed once more, and looked at them all. "I guess so, girls. I can't exactly yell at the guy if he has, can I?"

"No, you can't," replied Becky. "Especially when you actually told him he didn't need to be faithful when you weren't exactly planning to be either."

"Right." I paused, wondering whether I had been stupid to issue such a statement to him. Then I remembered how all this was because of his huge cock and his big balls and his pecs and abs and, and, and... "BUMMER! I'm so annoyed with myself! Was I born this shallow, or did he make me this way?"

"That's what great sex can do to a girl," smiled Caroline. "It's addictive."

"Yeah. Your brain just makes up excuses for the next fix," agreed Emma.

"Maybe so," I thought, out loud.

"Now, one more thing," said Becky. "What about your promise to US? If I remember rightly, there was something about all five of us getting to share that yummy big cock of his."

"Yeah, that's right," said Daphne.

"Is that still on?" asked Caroline.

"Or are you having second thoughts about that, too?" asked Emma, raising an eyebrow.

I looked at each one of them in turn, then said, "Well -- what difference does it make?"

"A lot," said Daphne.

"I'll say!" remarked Becky.

I frowned. "I seem to remember there was a condition attached to this. If he's faithful, he gets all of us. If he isn't -- he doesn't."

"Actually, that's right," agreed Caroline. "That was the deal."

Emma looked downcast. "Bummer. That means if he met a girl in a bar someplace with the other guys, we get nothing and only Angela gets a look in."

I suddenly felt adamant. "I might not feel like looking, if I find out he did that."

"What!" cried Daphne.

"IT'S OVER," I announced.

"Babe, are you NUTS?" cried Becky. "What do you mean, 'it's over'? He hasn't even walked through the door yet!"

"Yeah, you don't know whether he has or hasn't," remonstrated Caroline.

"She's lost it," said Emma.

"No, I haven't!" I cried. "I don't see why I should continue seeing him if he did that, or share him with the rest of you!"

Becky frowned. "You're starting to annoy me now, babe! You said yourself that it didn't matter if he was or wasn't, and you promised to share him with us if he was."

"Huh! I must have been stupid! It should have been the other way round -- if he's faithful, I keep him for myself, and if he isn't, you can have him!"

"You don't have the right to demand fidelity from him when you haven't done it yourself!" said Becky.

"Yeah, and you shared yourself with us, not him, and were happy to do that," said Caroline.

That made me stop. I thought. Then I blurted, "Aargh! Am I crazy?"

Caroline stepped down. "Sit down, you over-the-top, melodramatic wench, and listen up! Literally ten seconds ago, you agreed that the deal was, 'if he's faithful, he gets all of us; if he isn't, he doesn't'."

"I must have been nuts to set that up," I muttered out loud, while sitting on my bed.

"No, you weren't. The fact was, you put your friends first on the day you said that to him, not him first. I wager you knew for a fact that you would be getting horny with us while he was away, and it's not like he doesn't know -- he already knows that all of us get sexy with each other on the regular, whether he's there or not. On top of that, you know in your heart that this is a one-sided deal. While you have us all the time to give you some lovin', he's had nobody for the last four weeks, except for a busload of beefy, sweaty guys with hairy armpits and body hair, and it's not like they're all gay or bi-curious or anything. He's not gonna get up close and personal with THEM, is he? So the deal is, he gets five pussies to sink his cock into when he gets back, because that's what you've had all the time he's been gone. Even if he did manage to get some action from some random chick in a bar, you gave him the right to do that because you knew you had us all the time, so if he got the hots for someone else, so what? You've still got all four of us, and we can give you hours of untold pleasure that he could only dream of. So you've lost nothing out of this sweet little deal, and there's every chance that he could even have passed up the opportunity for some action, fully believing that he had five hot chicks waiting for him back home. He knows we all love sex, but he doesn't know what some chick in a bar will be like. So why don't you get off your high moral horse? The fact is, you more or less let him go. You said to him straight that it was unfair to expect him to be faithful after only a month of going out. That was the right call then, and it's the right call now."

"I agree with Caroline," said Daphne.

"Yeah, me, too," said Emma.

"Same here," said Becky. "So why don't you just drop this little condition about being faithful, huh?"

"What?" I asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah, think about it," Becky went on. "Babe -- you let him go. Here you are, expecting him to show up any minute, knocking on the door, happy to see you. What if he doesn't? What if he met some super-hot babe who rocks his world in bed and sucks him off better than you do? What if he prefers her, and never comes back? Watcha gonna do about it? You said he could meet others, and you were OK with it, because you knew you had us as a back-up. You gave him no back-up plan at all, and didn't bother to put him first, yet you expect him to walk through that door like a tail-wagging puppy dog, being sexless for a whole month like a good, faithful little boy."

I felt bad. "I've been selfish," I said. I looked at my four closest friends, and shrugged. "I'm sorry this needed to be called out."

Daphne smiled. "What are friends for?"

I smiled sheepishly, and blushed. I hesitated. "What am I gonna do now?"

"You're gonna do exactly what I told you to do," grinned Becky. "You're not gonna ask him whether he was faithful. You're gonna be super-stoked that he even came back into your life, and we'll be stoked, too, and, as a reward, your gonna eff him like you've never done before, and we're all gonna join in."

"OK," I grinned. "Let's do it."

CHAPTER TWO

Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

I jumped up like someone had just kicked me up the backside. "He's here." I leapt towards the dorm room door and burst it open like a pop gun.

There he was. "Hi, Ange. Hi, ladies. I'm back!"

"PATRICK!" I cried, and gave him a big hug, and all the girls squealed and rushed forward to embrace him. It was great to feel his strong arms around me, the hardness of his body, his toned muscles, and masculine scent.

Patrick was a little overwhelmed at the welcoming committee, and his eyes were wide, his eyebrows raised. "Wow, this is awesome; but can I bring my bag in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," said Becky, and we moved out of the way to let him in.

I looked at his luggage -- a big backpack, and a bag of random drinking bottles and other paraphernalia. "Didn't you go home yet?"

Patrick grinned. "No, I didn't. I came to see you. I didn't realize all five of you would be here together." He looked at the others. "What's happening? No classes today?"

"We studied this morning," said Caroline, squirming a little and licking her lips at him.

I frowned at her, then turned back to Patrick. "Babe, how was the trip?"

"Oh, it was awesome! We came second overall and competed at five different tournaments across the country. The venues were packed and the crowd was crazy, but it was really exhilarating in the stadium! The judges were really picky, though -- way more than they are locally around here."

"Yeah, well, that's gonna happen when you hit the big league," I smiled.

Emma waltzed up to him. "So, Patrick -- did you get much free time while you were away?"

"Er, no, things were really hectic and we lived on restaurant food and snacks while we were on the road. I got tired with all the bus rides everywhere, though. If I never see another bus again, I would be happy, right now."

"What were the hotels like?" asked Daphne, flicking her long, blond hair.

"Oh, pretty average -- three-star's not bad, but kinda no-frills at the same time, huh?"

"I see," said Becky. "So what did you and the guys get up to in the evenings?"

"Oh, well, we got in pretty late most nights, maybe around nine, perhaps 8:30pm if we were lucky. By the time we checked in and showered, then changed, we went out for dinner around quarter to ten, so late-night buffets and street food, mainly, I'm afraid. It'll be nice to go back to some normal food again, now I'm back living at home."

"So no time to hit the bars, right?" I asked.

Patrick finally cottoned on to what we were all getting at. "Ah, right -- no, not really. We were burning the candle at both ends most days, what with traveling ten hours each time we moved, then eating late, getting up early most mornings to practice, then straight into the competitive event."

"Oh, yeah?" said Becky. "How about weekends? You didn't compete on Saturdays and Sundays."

"I know, but there was still travel, and more practice sessions."

Caroline stood up straight. "So, can we assume that you never met anyone during these whole four weeks?"

Patrick smirked. "Well, ladies, there really wasn't a whole lotta time. Plus, the other guys would have found out."

"So what?" I asked, shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, there's the little issue of, if I met a woman I liked, where would I take her? Her place or mine? If 'my place' is a hotel room with four beefy guys, I can't take her there. It would have to be her place, and goodness knows where that would have been. I couldn't very well go off to her place and leave the other guys there at the bar, plus I was in a town I didn't know."

"HA! Really?" smirked Emma. "There's this thing called a back alley. Ever used it?"

Patrick smiled, pulled himself up to his full height and put his hands on his hips. His eyes were twinkling and he was full of confidence. I was surprised.

"OK," he said. "Do you want the lowdown? Me and the guys did go out to meet girls -- I was dog-tired most of the time in the evenings, and didn't wanna stay out late, but the other guys were keen and so I went along. The first time was when we went to this bar. There were a whole bunch of really great-looking waitresses, cold beer, rock music, the works. Plus it was close to the hotel. We chatted up some of the waitresses and a couple of good-looking girls who were there. It was fun, but nothing physical -- we downed a few cold ones, then headed off home. The second time was a week later and at lunchtime. The guys had got there an hour before me because I was in charge of stocking up snacks and supplies for the next bus trip, and so I had gone around hunting for a supermarket, then gone back to the hotel to dump the stuff, shower, change and head out to join them. When I got there, they were doing tequila shots with this waitress who was absolutely stunning -- blond hair, humongous boobs, athletic body, birthin' hips, long, sexy legs -- actually, she kind of looked like you, Caroline."