Thirsty Cheerleader

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've been going out for a month now, and I've thoroughly enjoyed his huge cock every time. It's been awesome. Yet last night he called me, and didn't sound happy. He's coming over this morning to explain. What on earth is this?

There was a knock on the dorm door.

"Is that you, Patrick? Come in," I answered.

He replied in the affirmative, then tried the door, which opened. He walked in, looking apologetic.

"What's up?' I asked, concerned.

"The phone call last night -- it's just that my competitive cheerleading team is thinking of going away for a few weeks. They wanna tour around the state, and depending on whether we win the competitions we enter, we could move up to national level."

I was delighted. "Baby, that's great! Why the anxiety?"

Patrick looked around the room. "You're the only one here? Where are the girls?"

"Out shopping, as usual!" I smiled. "Honey, that's great news! I'm really happy for you! It's awesome that your team is gonna tour, plus you deserve the chance to try for a national title. What is there to be worried about?"

Patrick sighed. "Well, it's just that it might be more than a month, even up to two, depending on how far we get. I'm worried that you won't see me for a long time, and I don't wanna lose you."

I looked at him. It was good of him to care. "You're not gonna lose me."

"No, that's not OK," he said. "I'm twenty-one, and you're only eighteen. I can't expect an eighteen-year-old to be undyingly faithful to me if I'm gonna be away for weeks on end. I know you do your sexy times with the girls, but I just want you to know that I don't expect you to live like a hermit. If you need something extra while I'm away, I won't begrudge you it when I get back. You're a healthy, beautiful woman with a high sex drive, and I don't have the right to demand anything of you at your age."

All this sounded reasonably sincere, but I was suspicious. "That's very good of you to think like that, Patrick, but I'm a little skeptical. So you're saying I can play around with other guys when you're not around? What does this mean? Will you be playing around with other girls, too, then, while you're on tour?"

He shrugged. "I doubt I'll have the time. When we're not playing, we'll be practicing or traveling, so I don't think they'll be all that much opportunity."

"Uh-huh." I looked away, out of the window. I thought for a few moments. "OK, look. If we're gonna have to trust each other, that's fine, but I think you're right. If you're willing to turn a blind eye to anything I get up to, I don't really have the right to demand anything more from you."

"I see." Patrick stepped forward to hug me. I looked up at him and he smiled. "I want you to know I've had the best time with you."

I grinned. "Same here. I don't think I'm gonna find another eight-inch cock in a hurry." Then I had a sudden brainstorm. "Hey, look! I've got an idea. That huge cock of yours is a rare find. I'm willing to wait for its return."

He burst out laughing. "Really?"

"However, I get all the benefit, and you get nothing."

He hugged me close. "I wouldn't say that."

"Thanks," I smiled. "Yet I think this deal is a little one-sided. I have an eight-inch cock to look forward to, so I think you should have something equally exciting." I looked into his eyes. "You wanna know something? The girls have been talking nonstop about how awesome it is that I have you -- and that cock. We've been dreaming about how incredible it would be if all of us could share it, even for just one session."

Patrick was wide-eyed. "What!"

"Sure. I'm definite that they would totally be up for that. So here's the deal -- if we get horny while we're apart, and meet a warm body somewhere. we won't hold it against each other; but don't go catching any feelings for anyone. I'll do the same here. When you get back, you give me that cock, and I'll give you five willing young pussies to put it in."

"Wow," he said. "That's an offer I can't refuse."

I grinned. "I thought so." I kissed him. "When are you leaving?"

"Friday," he said.

It was Wednesday morning. "Well, that gives us a couple more days; and right now, the girls are gonna be out until lunch. So how about you give me some time with that huge thing of yours? I wanna make sure those big balls are fully drained before you leave, so we might as well get started now."

Patrick smiled down at me. "Your wish is my command, milady."

The next two days were a whirlwind of shopping trips, dates and more sex, before I finally waved goodbye to Patrick at the bus station. I chatted briefly with the other members of his cheerleading team, before waving them off as they left.

Back at the dorm, I was downbeat. "So that's that," I announced.

"Give me a break, baby," cried Becky. "You've had nothing but excitement for the last forty-eight hours, and sex to last you for quite a while; so don't give me that hard-done-by look. Patrick's a good guy, isn't he?"

"Hmph! I hope so. We made a promise."

"No, you didn't, hun," said Caroline. "The fact is, you gave him express permission to play around, seeing as he gave the same to you first. Your only commitment is that he doesn't fall in love with someone, which is much easier to keep. Seeing as you're only eighteen, I think you can manage that yourself, and I think he probably can, too. I saw that itinerary of his tour. It's absolutely nonstop. I can't see him falling for anyone with that hectic schedule."

"Right," said Emma. "Plus you held out the promise of an epic sexfest with him for all five of us, and I am kinda looking forward to that, so don't be messing it up now, with all this 'in-my-misery' garbage."

"I agree," said Daphne. "Snap out of it! We've got each other, haven't we? What he can't give you, we can make up for in other ways."

"Yeah, I've started to miss your body, babe, while you've been gallivanting around with Patrick," said Caroline. "I know his cock is awesome, but so is your pussy, and it's been a while since we saw it, and I'm getting thirsty."

I stood up. "GUYS! Will you just shut up? The fact is, I'm just not in the right headspace for all that right now, OK? Gimme a break!" I shot them a look and then flung open the door. "I'll see you later." I went out and slammed the door behind me.

I stomped off to the elevator, stabbed a button with my finger, and headed for the ground floor. Striding out of the dorm block, I marched across the grassy campus of North West State University in the bright, crisp sunshine, heading for the refectory. I was peckish, and could use a snack.

Huh, I thought. The girls were fine, really, but sometimes all they cared about was shopping and sex. Why was I the only one with a boyfriend. If they're so hot and sexy, why do they spend so much time pleasuring each other, rather than heading out to meet guys? The fact was, they seemed shallow and selfish, like they just lived for guys to salivate over their bodies, prancing around, lapping up the attention, before heading back to the privacy of the dorm room, for another endless session of orgasmic pleasure. It was a wonder that they ever got any coursework done at all. Yet we all had good grades, so we were doing OK, despite all our extracurricular fun.

I slowed down to a stop. Well, huh. Maybe I had been a little hard on them. All they wanted was to cheer me up, and had offered the only solution they knew I loved; and I had chewed them out for it. Was it so wrong to accept a generous offer of two or three hours of female pleasure? Then I remembered Patrick's cock. I was gonna miss him -- and it. I tutted, annoyed with myself. Now who's shallow?

I walked on, finally arriving at the refectory, where I lined up to buy a bag of potato chips, a soda and a candy bar. Totally healthy choices, I'm sure you'll agree. Stuff it, I didn't care right now. I wanted comfort food, really.

I paid for them and sat down at one of the long tables in rows that feature in college refectories the length and breadth of the nation, as nondescript as any other. Pop music played from the speakers as I began to eat.

I had nearly finished the potato chips when I spied a thin, tallish woman walking towards me. Her head was shaven, with only a half-inch growth of hair on most of it, but the top featured a luxuriant quiff of jet-black hair. She wore a stud in her nose and another in her ear, with a gold chain connecting the two. She had tattoos on her slim shoulders, and wore a cutoff white tank top with low armholes, revealing a substantial percentage of sideboob, yet without the necessary heft of breast tissue or cleavage to make it attractive. Instead, her braless breasts were small and pendulous, and from this angle, I could see a hint of areola, leading to small, pointed nipples that poked obviously through the thin material of the tank top. Beneath the hem, I saw a long expanse of toned abs and very low-slung hipster jeans, teamed with a black belt with silver studs. The jeans were blue and ripped at the knee, and her feet were topped off with bovver-boot Doc Martens. She came up to me chewing gum, and sat down directly opposite me.

"Hi," she said.

"Yo," I replied.

"You're a cheerleader, I believe; by the looks of things."

"And you're a lesbian, by the same analysis, I guess."

She smirked. "Right."

"What do you want with me?"

"I don't know, in truth; but I felt a vibe."

"What?" I said, incredulous.

"I just saw you sitting there, so I came over.":

I looked around the refectory. There were other female students present. "There are plenty of other girls just sitting here."

She leaned back in her chair. "I guess; but they don't have a vibe."

I shrugged. "Look, I understand your interest, but I'm not into that right now. Just leave me alone with my candy bar and soda."

"You stuck-up wench, I'll show you! I didn't come here to chat you up. I figured you needed some support."

I was surprised. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah." She looked around the room. She leaned towards me, conspiratorially. "I think you're missing someone."

I felt miffed. "What's that to you? You reckon you're gonna come over here and fix it? I've told you, I'm not interested; not in what you're selling, anyway. I can get that from my girlfriends any time. You lesbians don't hold a monopoly on that stuff, you know."

"Stuff you! It took me years before I was brave enough to come out."

I softened my attitude. "Look, I don't mean to deny your life experience. It's just that if your fix involves getting clothes-optional somewhere private, I have four hot babes waiting in my dorm; so I don't know what else you could offer as a lesbian."

"Well, huh!" she cried. "As a matter of fact, a lot! Did you know that lesbians have way more orgasms that straight women? Wanna know why?"

I considered. "I've heard about that; but I always figured that the straight people concerned were run-of-the-mill married folks. You know, straight women with clueless husbands who couldn't give a woman an orgasm if her life depended on it."

'Well, that's true. Why, what's different for you?"

"Well, I'm single, I'm a cheerleader, and I'm surrounded by beautiful girls, and the four in my dorm are horny women who love experimenting with new ways of finding pleasure, so we're not lacking in dildos and vibrators, if that's what you were gonna suggest."

She pointed a finger at me. "No way. You're a freshman, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's pretty young. I'm a junior already, and I've been finding myself."

"Uh-huh. So you've realized you like girls."

"Right."

I began to get curious. "Like, what's the deal here? I love beautiful women, but I'm only bi-curious. The five of us just play around. I love pussies, I love the camaraderie, the intimacy produced between us after we're done, the secrets shared, the trust, the communication, all of it."

"Yet you're a LUG."

"Huh? What's that?"

"Lesbian Until Graduation. Then you go off and find a boyfriend and eventually a husband, and all these shenanigans are conveniently swept under the carpet, and just a pleasant memory for your old age."

"Er, well -" I hesitated.

"I get it. Yet for me, I'm in this for life."

"I guess I could go for that -- especially if the orgasms were as good as I've heard."

"See, this is it. The difference between you and me is that I've decided that women are my future and my whole lifestyle. You're just playing around for a few years."

"Is playing around so bad?"

"No, but it means you get to escape the decisions necessary to make it a permanent thing. Because I've chosen, based on my sexuality, I've had to face decisions like never having a boyfriend, never being married to a guy, and this involves sacrificing normal heterosexual culture. If I want to meet other women who have made the same decisions and sacrifices, I have to find them in the LGBT community. Then, when I feel safe and protected by them, I choose to come out. Then, in order to not feel invisible, and not be approached by men, and not be treated as straight by other women, I dress like this. You don't have to do all these things, yet you still want the orgasms; and that's annoying."

"OK, I get it. Yet, you know, the are places these days where women can get their needs met. If you want other women to give you orgasms - straight, bi, les or whatever - there are sex clubs devoted to female pleasure. What about Killing Kittens? Maybe you can join a sex-positive Meetup group, get talking, then end up being invited to some sex parties with them to have a good time. There are beach resorts in Cozumel where couples go around naked giving each other pleasure and effing each other in huts, surrounded by five-star accommodation. Liveried service, champagne on ice, you name it. Plus courses you can take, where sex experts line women up on beds, and participants take turns learning every type of orgasm known to womankind, with yoga sessions, massage and meditation thrown in. There are sex-positive evening classes and BDSM clubs in New York City. There's tons of stuff. Why didn't you think of that?"

"Because, stupid, after you've done all that, you go back to your normal, straight, respectable life, and nobody is any the wiser."

"Is that so terrible?" I asked. "I don't want just anyone knowing that I possibly went to a nudist camp for hot sex on my vacation."

"It's not fair!" she cried. "You don't have to choose!"

"You could come, too -- they don't mind lesbians, they like LGBT people, and everyone's open-minded."

"I wouldn't want to come."

I observed her reticence. "I think I know what this is about."

"Huh?"

"It's because there are men there."

"Er, well -"

"I understand," I said, sympathetically. "This is not really about how many orgasms or how much sex or when or where. It's all about not including men, or any of the male-dominated culture. You know that by choosing women-only as your relationship default, you're gonna need to reject the whole of straight society to achieve it."

She looked resigned, and shrugged. "I guess that's true."

I decided to get going. "Right, now that we've cleared that up, this has been a really interesting conversation, but I've got to be going. I don't wanna keep the girls waiting, know what I mean?"

"Wait!" she cried. "Let me at least tell you why we end up having more orgasms than you. That's why I approached you in the first place. I saw you looking down, and I figured you could use some pointers."

I settled back into my seat. "Oh, yeah?" Something told me I should hear her out. "Go on, then. I'm listening."

I burst in through the dormitory door, a transformed woman. GONE was my 'poor-me' attitude. GONE was my lack of self-confidence in my abilities. GONE was my annoyance at my friends. Replacing them was nothing more than a sheer desire for my friends, for the touch of a woman, for the pure joy of reveling in the femininity of my closest companions.

Becky spun around to see me, and the other three jumped to attention.

"What on earth?" cried Becky.

"OK, girls, I'm back!" I announced.

"We can see that," said Caroline. "What gives?"

I looked at the four of them, delighted. "I've just had the best conversation with Michelle, that lesbian junior, in the refectory," I explained.