THE CHEERLEADER: CHAPTER 1, CAUGHT IN THE LOCKER ROOM
Introduction:
Another ‘first time’ lesbian story, with a high school setting – it takes a little while to set the scene, so if you like to get straight into the action, this story may not be the best for you.
They say that getting on the cheerleading squad can change your life … well, it certainly changed mine!
I was just over sixteen, and a pretty cute little number if I say so myself. Not too tall, at 5 foot 4 inches, quite slim, but getting the curves that were getting the looks. I always had a really good ass – I had slim, boyish hips, and it jutted out behind and bounced along nicely when I walked, especially in my favourite tight blue jeans or cut-off denim shorts. Now I was filling out up front to match it, as my chest went from desert plateau to a nice pair of rounded and pointy hills. I’m a natural blonde (lucky me), which then I kept in a pony tail – between that and my bum flouncing along, plenty of heads would turn after I went past. I was also quite sporty and energetic, kept myself fit, and had a smooth complexion with a natural healthy glow.
With all this, I had rated my chances of getting picked for the junior cheerleading squad pretty highly, and was disappointed when I just missed out in the trials at the start of the new school year. However, I was first reserve and three weeks later, when Amy broke her ankle badly and was going to be out for three months, the coach called me into the squad. This was Ms Gretzke; she was in her early 30s, very fit and trim – she had been an athlete when younger, and had won medals at state level and competed nationally. She was the senior coach, and took personal charge of our female sports teams as well as the senior and junior cheer squads. Ms Gretzke had a brisk and decisive way of doing things, but also a warm and interested manner, and she was popular in the school. She was medium height and had black hair which she kept trimmed above her collar; you nearly always saw her either wearing a jogging suit or a short sports skirt.
Ms Gretzke had a strict ‘no boyfriends’ rule for the senior girls’ teams and both the cheer squads. She said that the training, matches and competitions (the last two of which involved quite a bit of travelling, often with an over-night stay somewhere) required a lot of commitment in time and energy, and that it was important that our school work and grades did not suffer – so there was not room for a heavy social life as well. She said she would not have training messed up by absentees or matches lost because girls were tired out or hung-over. It seemed to make sense and no one questioned it, I think mainly because we were a very sports-oriented school, with a high reputation in our state. All our teams were very competitive and there was a lot of silverware exhibited in the school trophy cabinet to show the rewards of their efforts – and that included the cheerleaders, in fact the senior squad had been state champions or runner-up for three of the last five years.
So, when Ms Gretzke offered me the vacancy on the cheerleading squad, it was really a formality to check that I knew and agreed to the rule. I was happy to reassure her, because in truth I was glad to have a way out from the pressure for dating. The boys had become more interested in me – even a bit pushy – since my figure began filling out, and I wasn’t really that keen; in fact, I was still a virgin. She also said I needed to catch up to learn the routines, as she wanted me in the squad for next Saturday’s important match with one of our main rivals. It was arranged that I would stay after school on Wednesday for an hour, and she would give me a special coaching session. This went well, and Ms Gretzke was encouraging and friendly. I was enjoying the unusual experience of it being just the two of us, as she showed me the moves; she had put on her own copy of our cheerleader outfit, but when she did some of the handstands I saw with interest that instead of the regulation neat and plain white panties that we girls wore with the uniform, she had rather skimpy thong-shaped black panties. I was sorry when the training session came to an end, but she gave me a warm smile and ushered me to the door that led from the gym to the small female locker-room that was reserved for the teams and cheer squads. She told me to take a shower and get changed, and then – as the whole school was by now deserted and quiet – I would need to come to her office, and she would let me out of the building.
As I went through into the locker room, it seemed natural enough to hear Ms Gretzke close and bolt the door behind me. However, I only went a couple of faltering steps further, because the changing room was not empty at all – three of the girls from the senior hockey team were there. To my consternation, two of them were lounging against the door that led out into the hallway, so I could not just slip past them and leave. They were eighteen years old, and all three were big girls – tall, at least 5 feet 9 inches, probably more. They had the fit and well-toned look of those who exercise a lot; I don’t mean they looked like body-builders or anything like that, in fact they had good figures, but it was obvious that any one of them was much stronger than me.
Our school drew on different communities, and its sports ethos had helped to avoid a lot of ethnic tensions, so it wasn’t a surprise that these three team-mates were from varied backgrounds. The girl leaning against the door on the right was Roberta, a black beauty with rich chocolate-coloured skin, dark brown eyes, pouty lips and thick glossy curly hair. She was the tallest and heaviest built of the three, and also had the biggest bust – in fact, she was one of the best-endowed seniors in the school. Next to her on the left was a more willowy Hispanic girl called Mercedes; she had straight black hair tied in a ponytail, and there was just a hint of meanness or cruelty in the sardonic way that she was inspecting me. The third girl, leaning against the batch of lockers near the archway that led into the shower area, was the team captain, Julia. She was white, with brown hair that was mostly dyed blonde and cut fairly short, in a slightly spiky style. All three were wearing their team kit, which consisted of a short navy blue sports skirt and a short-sleeve top in stripes of blue and white. As they looked appraisingly at me, I started to feel self-conscious and a bit nervous. They were two years’ ahead of me, and I hardly knew them except by name – but they had the reputation of being tough ruthless bitches on the playing field. I must have looked pale with surprise and doubt, and I think I gave a bit of a whimper.
‘Don’t mind us’, said their captain lightly; ‘we just like to come down here when it’s quiet – you just carry on’, she added, giving me an anticipatory smile. Roberta grinned, whilst Mercedes gave a short laugh that made me still more uncomfortable. Fortunately, my locker was on the far side of the room from where Julia was leaning, and I opened it and began – reluctantly – to take off my cheerleader outfit. I was very proud of it, and this had been my first time to wear it – our style was white plastic boots to a couple of inches below the knee, and then a two-piece skirt and top in blue, with white edging and white flashes in the pleats of the short skirt. Turning my back to the room, I swiftly shrugged out of the top and then, with more hesitation, slipped the skirt over my hips, down my legs and stepped out of it. I still had my back to my audience, but of course when I bent down to pick up the skirt, this meant that I stuck my peachy ass invitingly out at them. I realised this when one of them – I think Roberta – gave an appreciative low whistle, whilst Julia commented: ‘very nice, very nice indeed.’ Now just in the boots and my own plain white bra and panties, I paused for a moment, blushing and hoping they would just leave. But they didn’t, and so I had no option but to keep going. I kept my back to them, and first sat on the bench and pulled off my boots; then I stood up and quickly unclipped my bra, and tugged down my panties. As soon as I was naked, I reached for my towel – only to find that Julia had picked it up, and was waiting for me.
‘Let’s see how the newest recruit shapes up’, she smiled; ‘give us a twirl, then’. I knew I had no option but to obey – I needed to keep it pleasant, as I was a bit afraid of annoying them and I certainly could not fight them. So I tried to cover my tits with one hand and put the other over my pussy, and did a rather quick full turn-around – but it was enough to see that they were all regarding me intently, as if I was a specimen on a microscope slide. ‘Nice ass’, Roberta remarked to Mercedes, and the Hispanic girl replied lazily: ‘yeah … sweet bod.’ It felt weird being discussed like an object in a shop window, but in truth – though I didn’t grasp it at the time – that was exactly what I was. Actually, I was as pretty and as innocent as home-baked apple pie – sweet and naive, and blushing with embarrassment. As I hesitated, Julia threw me the towel and with a curious half-smile on her face, said: ‘Get in the shower, babe, you look like you need to cool off.’ As I quickly walked past her, I was caught by surprise when she gave me a playful – but quite firm – smack on the ass with the palm of her hand. I gave a yelp and promptly dropped the towel, then frantically scrabbled for it and scooted into the showers, giving the three older girls another eyeful of my sweet young curves, and my tight pert ass most of all.
I was filled with confusion, surprise and some apprehension, and I stayed in the shower for at least ten minutes, hoping they would get bored and leave. After a while, hearing no voices or sounds, I turned off the shower and returned to the locker room. I gulped and swallowed – they were still there, they had definitely been waiting for my return! Julia was now sitting on one of the long benches, but my eye was drawn to the two tall girls by the door. They had removed their hockey tops, and their breasts were only partly hidden by their bras – and in the case of Roberta’s left breast, not at all, as it was hanging outside the cup. It looked like she and Mercedes had been making out (their skirts seemed a bit rumpled as well), but my mind shied away from that conclusion and its possible implications. As Roberta deftly scooped her exposed breast back into the pink bra that contrasted so beautifully with her smooth dark skin, she saw that I was watching and I blushed with embarrassment.
I faltered, not sure of what to do next, or of what was going to happen. When I had finished the shower, I had wrapped my blue towel around myself under the armpits, but it was not very long and only covered down to two or three inches below my pussy. It actually looked more like a mini-skirt than a towel, and it did nothing to hide the curves of my body. I did not want to remove it whilst I was under the hockey girls’ gaze, but equally I had to get dressed – I couldn’t just stand around soaking wet. However, the dilemma was taken out of my hands. As I hesitated, Julia gave her two team-mates a wink, and all three moved over to surround me – Julia in front, and the others at each shoulder. I couldn’t think what to say, and I must have looked a rabbit caught in the headlights. Julia slowly traced her index finger from left to right across my upper chest, just above the towel, sliding across skin that was damp partly from the shower but also from the sweat induced by fear – in which was mingled a tinge of excitement as well. I trembled slightly at her first touch, and looked at her wide-eyed. ‘We must get you dry’, she said, and before I could react, she hooked her finger into the front of the towel, between my budding breasts, and with a swift tug pulled it away from me. Taking one end of the towel, she began quite gently to wipe my face and hair; the other end was given to Roberta, who used it to rub my shoulders and upper back. Julia started working downwards, drying my neck and shoulders, and then the towel began to caress my breasts, circling around them and rubbing over the nipples, first downwards and then upwards. They responded rapidly, enlarging and stiffening, and sending novel sensations through my body. I voiced a weak protest: ‘No … you mustn’t do that … oooh … no, stop! … aah.’ Julia’s reply confused me, as she cryptically remarked: ‘We can’t stop, this is part of your training.’
Between Julia’s ever-firmer stroking of my breasts and Roberta’s sensuous massaging of my back, I was starting to feel aroused, Without even realising it, I shifted my stance, releasing some of my tension and resistance, and standing with my legs further apart. I closed my eyes, and then opened them with a sudden shriek of surprise – for a hand (which had to belong to Mercedes) had slipped between my legs from behind, and was cupping and cradling my Venus mound. In my shock at this intimate contact, I tried to jerk away, but I was held firmly and could not move. On each side of me, Roberta and Mercedes gripped my upper arm in one hand, and used the other to explore my body – Roberta was running her fingernails up and down my spine, whilst Mercedes continued to probe at my pussy, teasing at my tight virgin slit. In the meantime, Julia threw the towel to one side, and took my breasts in her hands, fondling them and tweaking my tits. Then came the next big shock – and the next amazing sensation. The hockey team captain bent forward and took my right nipple into her mouth, licking around the aureole, sucking on the teat, and then rasping her tongue across it – whilst continuing to grope and squeeze my left breast with her hand. The combination of the sensations being telegraphed from my pussy and my tits threatened to overwhelm me. I felt weak and wobbly, and strangely hot and wet between my legs. ‘Yeah. that’s it’, said Mercedes to her captain, ‘she’s starting to open up’, and I felt her finger push into me further, touching off nerve-ends that I didn’t know I had, never mind that they were this sensitive and highly charged. I gave a shudder and shake, feeling as if I was being washed away on a tidal wave, as Mercedes gave a sharp laugh and called out: ‘she’s coming – the little slut is coming, just from this!’
I gave a soft noise, half moan and half sob, and my knees gave way so that I leant backwards with my weight resting against Roberta – but that also brought a shock, for without my noticing she had discarded her bra, and my back pressed against her full ripe breasts. The combination of their soft warmth and the pressure of their hard pointy nipples was like nothing I had felt before, and it added a counterpoint to the overtly sexual manipulations of my breasts and cunt. Julia switched her mouth to my other breast for a little while, and then stood back a step and watched me in the arms of her two team-mates. Roberta took this opportunity to bring her hands round under my armpits, and began her own attentions to my swollen and sensitive tits. My mouth was hanging open and I must have had a glazed expression in my eyes; at any rate, whatever Julia saw confirmed that I was ripe and ready for the next level.
She dropped to her haunches in front of me, her face level with my pussy, and then she further parted my thighs with her hands and brought her tongue up to my labia. After the probing of Mercedes, they had swollen and spread, revealing the entry between. Julia first pulled the lips further open with her fingers, and then thrust her tongue into the crevasse and probed upwards and downwards. The latter direction had the most result: whatever she did, it was like an electric shock jolting through me. I gave a strangled cry, as fright and pleasure chased each other around inside my head, whilst my body seemed to have a mind of its own and my pelvis began to twist and thrust in response to Julia’s manipulative tongue. She pushed deep enough to encounter my hymen, which made her pull out in surprise and raise her damp face to her friends, informing them: ‘Would ya believe it – she’s still a virgin!’
I was no longer really trying to escape my three seducers, and they sensed this. Roberta and Mercedes steered me over to one of the wooden benches – there were four of these in the middle of the room, each about eight feet long and eighteen inches wide – and laid me down on it, flat on my back. I made no move or struggle as they stood on both sides, looking down at me. Then Julia remarked calmly, ‘Captain’s prerogative’, and her team-mates immediately began to undress her. They pulled her hockey shirt over her head, and Roberta took the opportunity to grope the white girl’s breasts as she unclipped and removed her bra. Simultaneously, Mercedes unbuttoned Julia’s sports skirt and let it drop to the floor, revealing that there were no panties underneath. The hockey captain was now nude apart from her trainers and ankle socks, and as she stepped towards me my eyes were riveted on her pussy, clearly visible and framed by a patch of very neatly-trimmed brown hair.
Julia stopped next to the bench, level with my right shoulder, and looked down on me with a possessive smile. Then, with an athletic movement, she swung one leg over to straddle the bench. Her pussy was just a few inches above my chin, and as I looked upwards I could see the flat shape of her belly and above that her two breasts jutting out. I found the sight – and my submissive position – intensely erotic, and I stirred slightly on the bench in the hope of easing the renewed tension in my crotch. Most of all, I was becoming fascinated by the sight of a woman’s sex, and I gazed with interest at Julia’s pussy lips. She lowered herself down onto me, so that her crotch was sitting on my face. Gripping my chin in one hand, so that I had no chance to turn away, and engulfing my head between her thighs. she commanded in a voice suddenly firmer and more authoritative: ‘Eat me out, slut!’ I hastened to obey, and no longer just from fear. I licked Julia’s cunt with growing enthusiasm, trying to emulate some of the methods that these practised lesbians had just used on me. It was my first experience of the wonderful texture of a woman’s vagina and the sweet delicious taste of her sex juices, and this one fix confirmed me as an addict for life. The hockey captain grunted, and said ‘You’re a fast learner! C’mon, you slut, eat me out! – make me cum!’ Her words aroused me even more, and I pushed my tongue in more deeply, provoking little mewling noises of pleasure as I did so. Julia’s breaths started to come more rapidly, turning into a breathless panting. Then she slumped slightly forwards, gripping my shoulders to steady herself and keep her balance. She made a gasping noise in her throat as she orgasmed several times in fast succession – or maybe it was one long sustained one.
After a moment to regain her composure, Julia slid backwards down both the bench and my body, spread my ankles apart, and reapplied her mouth to my pussy. I barely had time to register this, as Roberta took the vacated place and brought her dark crotch to my lips. This was even more amazing, as I was profoundly excited by the contrasts between her smooth rich chocolate skin, the darker brown of her outer labia, and the moist pink of the cervical shaft in the centre. Although my jaw was beginning to ache, nothing in this world would have stopped me from tonguing the prize I was being offered. I went at it with renewed vigour, avidly and even roughly; later I discovered that Roberta liked best to be taken hard and fast, and so my methods had the greatest impact on her. She spread her legs still wider, and with one hand she pulled her labia further apart, enabling me to lick around it with firm fast pressures, flicking from clockwise to anti-clockwise at random intervals. Her other hand frotted rapidly at the sensitive top of her opening, adding stimulus to my pussy-eating endeavours. Between the two us, we brought her to a long shuddering climax, during which I could feel the trembling of her thighs and see the muscles twitching in her upper legs.
Shakily, Roberta lifted herself off me, but before stepping aside she bent down and kissed my lips with gentle care, giving me the erotic flush of sensing passion throttled back – passion that would return and take my body another time. Now it was Mercedes’s turn, but the Hispanic bitch intended to use a different strategy. Whereas her two predecessors had faced me as they lowered their pelvises onto my mouth, Mercedes took her stance the other way round and so presented me with her arse. It was beautifully slim and shapely, and she had quite a wide space between her legs. Her pussy hair was jet black and neatly trimmed to a bare fringe, and her anal hole was round and puckered. She ordered me to lick her ass, and when I hesitated she took my breasts in her hands, rubbing her thumbs across the nipples, and began to squeeze them painfully. I really had no option, and found there was a certain delight in being so powerless, in being sexually submissive, used and abused. It seemed obvious that the same technique applied to both holes, and that was more or less the case. After what seemed like a long time, but was probably not much more than a minute, Mercedes gave several high-pitched shrieks. In the short pause that followed the highest and fastest of these, she unclipped her pony tail and let her black hair fall to frame around her face.
The Hispanic bitch had something of a cruel and domineering streak, and it was an element in her character which made her a fearsome competitor in hockey matches. She slapped my breasts quite hard several times, until they began to sting, and then adjusted her posture to move her cunt over my mouth. ‘Finish the job, pussy-face,’ she ordered. I was getting worn out, and my tongue was sore and stiff. ‘No, no … I can’t’, I protested weakly. This enraged Mercedes, who had no intention of not getting off when her two team-mates had been sexually serviced. ‘You fucking will, you little cow!’, she shouted, and she pinched one of my nipples between her thumb and forefinger. I gave a scream that was muffled by the gagging weight of her body, but her assault had sent an electric shock through me and – amazingly – it revitalised me; it was as if fear was a fuel that supercharged my engine. Although a few tears streaked my cheeks in an involuntary response to the pain in my breast, I was more aroused than afraid. For the third time, my mouth replicated a suction pump on a girl’s glistening vagina, and experience and urgency combined to make me twist my tongue into Mercedes like a corkscrew into a wine bottle. She began to jiggle about on top of me, almost as if she were in the saddle and I was her horse. Finally, she pushed down against my face several times, let loose a string of swearwords, and soaked my lips in a flood of juices as she came uninhibitedly, tossing her head and dark hair from side to side.
After Mercedes lifted herself off my prone form, I remained flat on my back on the hard wooden bench, my face streaked with the sticky residue of the hockey girls’ orgasms. I was half-dazed with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration, and my emotions were in turmoil. However, they began to settle as I accepted what I had just discovered about my sexual orientation. Could it be that I had just made three senior girls come, and had enjoyed every moment of it – even Mercedes’s domination? I even felt the first stirring of anticipation as to what pleasures might lie ahead. In my preoccupation, I did not notice the outer door of the locker room swing open as Ms Gretzke walked in. When her presence registered, I gave a squeak of alarm and started frantically to rise, but Julia at once pressed down on my shoulder. Restraining me, she smiled and said: ‘Don’t worry, babe, it’s cool’. The hockey girls certainly seemed unconcerned that their coach had found them stark naked together, with an obviously fucked younger girl at their mercy. Before I could make any further move, Ms Gretzke had come to stand beside the bench, close to my head. She regarded the three older girls with a half-smile, and asked: ‘Well, how is our latest recruit coming along?’ She was given approving nods and noises in return, with Julia saying ‘she’s hot stuff, the little minx’, and Roberta adding ‘yeah, she’s good’. ‘Does she want to become one of my special girls?’ asked Ms Gretzke, and Julia answered that she was quite sure I did.
Ms Gretzke was still wearing the cheerleader outfit from our practice session, but she stood so close to me (deliberately, I’m sure) that I could see all the way up under her skimpy white skirt. Her tanned firm legs were tantalisingly smooth, but what hit me like a freight train was the realisation that her black panties were gone, that she was nude under the skirt. She was now looking down at me with interest, and saw the realisation dawn in my eyes. Almost casually, she traced her right hand across my chest to fondle and tweak my nearest breast. Then she swung her right leg over me, straddling above my face, and pulled the cheerleader skirt up around her waist. I was right – there were no panties, indeed nothing to obstruct the view of her glorious womanhood – for her pubes were closely shaven, and just a light sheen of sweat reflected on the slight golden expanse of skin (she clearly sunbathed nude, as there was no bikini mark). With the supple strength of muscles toned by a hundred press-ups every morning, she gently lowered her crotch towards my face. I needed no encouragement or telling what to do – as her pussy came closer, I reached up and gripped her waist, and then pulled her down right onto my panting lips. I buried my face between her legs, licking, sucking, probing and pushing.
The tough teacher gave a moan, and this was like a signal for the three girls. Julia came to one side of the bench, Roberta to the other; they pulled Ms Gretzke’s sports top off over her head, and then each clamped like a limpet onto her nearest breast. The teacher’s back arched in her pleasure, as the tableaux was completed by Mercedes straddling the bench behind her, pressing her breasts into the older woman’s back. As well as acting as a human support, Mercedes was perfectly placed to ram two fingers in and out of my open cunt. The effect made me start to buck and jerk (which had the delicious consequence for Ms Gretzke of my face burrowing even deeper into her vagina), and my breasts jiggled about – a motion she stopped by grasping and squeezing them. Mercedes was regarding both of us with narrowed eyes, and again proved her skill at timing, stroking me to a boneshaking climax just as Ms Gretzke gave a deep moan and almost squirted pussy juice onto my face. ‘Oh, good, very good,’ she said, as she stepped off me.
The coach then explained the rules that I would have to abide by, if I was to join the squad – and particularly if I was to become one of her ‘special group’. The first rule was that the cheerleaders were to be sexually available at any time (except when on their period) to any of the girls on the sports teams, singly or in groups, whenever they required it. This, of course, was the real reason for the ‘no boyfriends’ rule – and it was hardly a sacrifice when every girl in all the squads was either lesbian, or bi-sexual and happy to get her thrills with girls now and leave guys for later. The second requirement was that I would perform for Ms Gretzke personally whenever she wanted, and be given by her to the coaches of other teams for the day, either as a gift or as part of the prize betted on in a match, or to the judges, referees and officials of any competition we were engaged in. Third, the existence of her ‘group’ and the sexual roundabout with the teams must remain a secret between ourselves. Finally, I must keep myself neat and pretty at all times, and work hard in my lessons so as to get good grades. After telling me all this, the teacher asked whether I wished to join her select group, and I nodded vigorous assent. ‘Kiss my pussy to show your agreement’, she ordered, and I quickly did so, giving a wet, slobbery and loud one.
‘Boss, she’s still a virgin’, said Mercedes. ‘Oh?’, said the teacher in surprise, looking down at me with regret. ‘I’m sorry, we have a strict rule – no virgins allowed, you have to be available for whatever kind of fucking the team girls want.’ I was suddenly desperately afraid that my new world would be snatched away from me, and at once I replied that I didn’t want to be a virgin, and I begged Ms Gretzke to take me and make me a woman.
She considered for a moment, and then nodded. ‘OK, girls, parade position, please’, she ordered. I didn’t know what this meant, but Julia showed me. We all stood in a row on one side of the bench, facing across it and with our backs to the teacher. Then we bent across from the waist to hold on to the other edge, arching our backs, pushing our butts up into the air, and shifting our feet out to spread our thighs wide. There was a short pause as Ms Gretzke shed the cheerleader outfit, and from the corner of my eye I saw her pull a strap-on from her sports bag and step into it, cinching the belt tight around her waist. She approached the line-up from the other end, the first girl being Mercedes. Ms Gretzke positioned her pelvis just behind and slightly below the young Hispanic girl’s upthrust cunt, gripped her firmly just above each hip, and then pushed upwards and forwards. I watched from the corner of my eye, as the dildo sank in with a soft wet sound. All three hockey girls were already erotically aroused, and the coach was an expert pussy-shagger with years of experience, and so it took barely a dozen swift smooth shafts for Mercedes to wail out in orgasm. As soon as she came, Ms Gretzke moved to the next in line, Roberta. The black girl got slightly different treatment, much rougher – the coach punched the dildo in and out of her gaping vulva, whilst pulling back hard on Roberta’s luscious hair with one hand and pulling on one of her breasts with the other. Of course, the teacher knew that the black girl liked to be taken hard, and in fact she came even quicker than Mercedes had – quicker, and louder. Again, without a word being said, Ms Gretzke instantly pulled out of the black pussy and, with barely a break in her motion, thrust between the smooth white buttocks of the hockey captain.
I could tell that Ms Gretzke was getting quite aroused, as the force of her first lunge into Julia’s cunt almost lifted the captain off the ground – and she was no slip of a girl. Julia altogether lost the cool assurance she had displayed up to now, juddering and shaking under the piledriver thrusts, and howling out broken phrases about ‘fuck me, yah, cum me, do me, urk, yeh, now!’ I swallowed nervously – if Ms Gretzke was building up to a crescendo, what kind of a savage ripping was my pussy going to receive? I began to quake, but resolved not to make a run for it – I knew that if I left that room then, I would bitterly regret it for the rest of my days. I needn’t have worried: the coach was no undisciplined fool, and knew exactly what she was doing. As she drove Julia to a screaming climax, she came herself and so released her sexual frustration. It was thus with calmness that she withdrew the strap-on from a sweat-drenched Julia, and brought it around next to my face. It had been lubricated with the cunt juice of all three hockey girls, and glistened in the light. She asked again if I was sure that I wanted to do this, and when I vehemently insisted that I was, she told me to kiss the tip of the plastic dong.
Ms Gretzke then stood behind my bent body and for a moment stroked my virgin opening with her fingers. She brought the knob of the dildo up to it, and gently pressed it in until she encountered the resistance of my hymen. She began with short firm strokes that all stopped just short of the barrier, but which built up a mounting heat in my stomach and crotch. Then she said ‘Now, babe’, and with the next forward stroke pushed deeper with an even pressure, meeting the resistance and pushing it aside. I felt a brief tearing sensation, and a second of pain that was like catching a fingernail on something – a jump, a jab and a wince – but no worse than that. Now Ms Gretzke’s strap-on was going deeper into me, pressing open flesh that had never before been intruded upon; that also hurt a bit, and remained tender for longer afterwards as well. But the cunny lubricant of the girls, together with my own aroused juices, were enough to give a smooth passage. Before long the coach was confident enough to shaft me fully and with much greater vigour, and she took me to a screaming climax nearly as loud as Julia’s. Halfway through, I lost my grip on the edge of the bench, and slumped down to rest my arms on it from my elbows to my wrists. As I was still bent over at the waist, this merely had the effect of thrusting my ass even more up in the air, and this encouraged the coach to even firmer strokes.
After I came, Ms Gretzke removed her strap-on, and took me to sit in her lap for a short cuddle. She stroked my breasts, and then cupped my chin and looked into my eyes. ‘Welcome to my special squad’, she said; ‘I think you’ll do very well, very well indeed’. She instructed me that my next duty was the pre-match briefing which, for home matches, was always held at her house on the Friday evening, with food and drink provided. Then she smacked my rump, and shooed all four of us girls into the showers to clean up before we could go home. Of course, that took us rather a long time, with quite a lot more bodily contact than showers conventionally require. I found that Roberta and Mercedes were something of a couple, with the former enjoying the latter’s domineering streak, and so I found myself, without regret, in Julia’s firm embrace. Oh, yes, I thought, this is where I want to be!
The next chapter is called ‘Home Games’, and will follow later …
If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories … you might like them too … there are several more lesbian first-time schoolgirl stories.
