Unspoken Pleasure

After I left, I was instantly face to face with Karen so I screeched to a stop as she said, “Miss Morgan was so into you.”

I blushed and agreed, “She did seem to be checking me out.”This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“Checking you out? She wanted to have you for supper,” Karen amplified.

“Well that may be overboard,” I said.

“We may just have to get you to seduce her,” Karen speculated as we headed for the gym. Other cheerleaders quickly joined us, so this conversation would have to wait. The next two hours were insane. I’d never put a second of thought into what cheerleaders do. I had never considered them athletes or skilled, but after doing a single practice with them, my whole respect for them skyrocketed.

My whole body ached fifteen minutes in, and that was just from the stretching. Miss Hopkins the cheerleading coach, was a slave-driver and a complete bitch. She was a perfectly fit, black woman, in her early thirties I would guess, who was pretty much Sue from Glee if you’ve ever watched it. She yelled, she criticized, and she humiliated all of us. Sweat was pouring off my whole body by the time the workout was done. The last hour was cheer after cheer and dance move after dance move with hardly a chance to catch your breath between each one. I learned I had no memory for the cheers, but I caught on to the dances pretty quickly. When practice ended, I was pleasantly surprised to receive what I guess passes as a compliment in Miss Hopkins’ world as she told me, “Hey Jenny, you don’t suck as much as I’d assumed you would.”

“Um thanks,” I responded, but she’d already begun walking away, so I found myself talking to her back, which didn’t look very approving, so oh well. I showered and changed and was then asked by Sabrina to give her a neck massage, which she criticized the whole time. I wasn’t massaging hard enough, but then I was massaging too hard. I couldn’t ever get it just right for her and I wondered if she was just making stuff up so I’d feel bad. She finally got up and said to me in a condescending tone, “Thanks, I guess, but you’ll never be a real cheerleader.” She then walked away.

On the drive home Karen reassured me, “Sabrina will come around. She isn’t one to accept change or any threat to her power. And she sees you as a threat.”

“Threat? Me? Why?” I asked, stunned.

“Can’t you see? You’re a diamond in the rough, honey.”

“What?”

“You’re smart, cute, sexy, sweet, and the head cheerleader captain (me) has taken an obvious liking to you,” she said, her right hand dropping to my leg. “In other words, she feels like you could replace her.” She then paused as she moved her hand up my leg and under my skirt. “And she should be worried, because she’s right: I hate that bitch.”

I gave a soft moan as her finger touched my pussy over my underwear as she drove. As she reached my house she said, “So I think we’ll test a theory tomorrow.”

“What theory?” I asked.

“That Miss Morgan is a dyke,” she blurted out, her finger tracing my pussy lips through my underwear.

“How so?” I moaned.

“Wear a pair of heels tomorrow and throughout her class, dangle your shoe. Even let it fall to the floor once in a while. Don’t look at her to see what she does, but I will. Then afterwards I’ll tell you about her reactions,” she said as she formulated the plan, her finger still teasing my now extremely damp pussy.

I finally said, “Mistress, please stop before I cum.”

“So?” she teased.

“Mistress Megan said we can’t.”

“She’ll never know,” she whispered, her finger putting pressure on my clit.

“But I can’t ever lie to her,” I whimpered, “and I never will.”

“Suit yourself,” Karen said and withdrew her hand from under my skirt. I was both disappointed and relieved as I got ready to leave the car, and then she asked, “What are you going to write your poem about?”

“Miss Morgan asked me to write it about how I became a PomPom girl,” I said.

“Fuck off!” Karen said, shocked, it appeared in a good way.

“Seriously, but I have no idea what to write.”

“But this is perfect!” Karen exulted.

“How so?” I asked.

“Write a poem where you come out to her,” Karen said confidently.

“What?” I said horrified.

” If she’s a dyke, this will be a perfect ploy.”

“For what?” I asked freaking out inside.

“Oh, just for you to fuck her,” Karen said casually.

“You want me to fuck Miss Morgan?” I asked.

“Don’t you want to?” she asked back.

I paused for a long time, knowing deep down I would love to pleasure Miss Morgan, so I answered shyly, “Well… yes.”

Karen responded, “Jenny, you need to stop being so insecure and shy. You’re a PomPom girl now! You’re in! Be aggressive, be confident.”

“OK,” I said rather unconvincingly.

Karen’s tone dripped with frustration as she wouldn’t let go of this, “Now tell me what you want to do to Miss Morgan?”

I responded after a few seconds, “I want to eat her pussy.”

“Well, that’s a bit better, but be more aggressive,” she said.

I contemplated this for a bit before finally releasing my real feelings as I said, “Mistress, I want to eat that hot bitch’s pussy until she cums all over my slut face, and then I want her to fuck my pussy till I cum like the little dyke that I am. Then I want to hide under her desk licking her cunt while she has a parent interview with my Mom. I want her to share me with the entire female teaching staff in the school. I want to be her lez whore. So there!” I didn’t stomp my foot, which would be awkward in the car.

Karen’s mouth dropped a little as she said, “Well, that’s way better! I knew you had it in you!”

A bit breathless after my outburst (which even I thought was sexy), I looked at my watch and said I should get inside.

“OK,” Karen said.

I said, “Goodbye, Mistress Karen.”

Karen leaned over and kissed me. The kiss sent electric shocks throughout my whole body as it was so unexpected and tender. She parted my lips with her tongue and we French kissed for a couple of minutes. She then broke the kiss and told me, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at the same time.”

“Ok,” I said.

The night was uneventful as I tried not to think of tomorrow; that said, writing my poem was difficult and frightening, yet when it was done I felt relieved; it seemed to wash away any insecurities or doubts I had. I was a lesbian and that wasn’t going to change… although I was still not ready to give such news to my mother. In case you’re curious, here’s the poem…