I went home, removed my underwear, put on a pair of sweats and waited… knowing that if I got a hard on in these, it would be impossible to hide. But maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
I then thought how ridiculous this big cock theory would have seemed if I hadn’t been living it the last little while. Based on all my prior experience this was a ludicrous theory… yet it was my new reality. I would have tried to debunk it if it were presented to me… although I guess I did just that at first with my Dad.
Not surprisingly, Amber arrived ten minutes late.
Unable to hide my contempt, I said, as I checked her out in her cheerleader outfit, which she noticed. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, practice ran late,” she apologized, although her tone implied the apology was only pro forma instead of sincere as she breezed into my house.
“You have practice on Saturdays?” I asked, a little surprised.
“Of course,” she said, “we’re competing in State next week.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, realizing perhaps cheerleaders were more than just dumb girls wearing skimpy outfits and cheering inane phrases. Truth was, I’d never watched them compete. That said, she looked so hot in the outfit. In truth, all that was missing was pantyhose.
“So how long will this take?” she asked, clearly not impressed to be in my house, although she was scanning my living room.
“Depends how long it takes for you to learn the content,” I answered.
“Oh,” she said. “I was hoping this would be quick.”
“Me too,” I said, wanting her to know I was as unexcited to be working with her as she was with me.
“You have a nice house,” she said, seeming surprised and not noticing my disdain.
“What?” I asked, annoyed by her presumption that I was poor because I wasn’t a chiselled jock.
“Nothing,” she said, “it’s just a very nice home.”
“Thanks,” I said, deciding not to make a big deal out of an assumption.
“So where do we start?” she asked, her blue eyes and blonde hair having the power to wow almost any guy.
“Did you bring your textbook?” I asked, even though I knew she hadn’t, since she came empty-handed and without a bag.
“No.”
“I’ll get mine,” I said, leaving her in the living room… my cock already hard because of her skimpy outfit.
I grabbed the textbook and returned to find her sitting on the couch on her phone.
I walked over to her, making sure my hard cock was poking directly at her, impossible to miss, handed her the textbook and said, “Here, show me what you’re struggling with.”
She looked up from her phone and did a double take when she saw the tent in my pants. It was brief, before she dropped the textbook on the couch and said, “All of it.”
“I can’t help you with all of it in an hour,” I said, lingering above her for a little while as I noticed her glancing back at my crotch area. To make sure I wasn’t imagining things, I flexed my cock and yep, her eyes went wide.
I casually sat down as she stammered, “J-j-just show me how to make sense of this gibberish.”
“Geometry is all about thinking outside the box,” I began.
“I don’t even know what that means,” she sighed heavily.
I repositioned myself so my crotch was in clear view as I said, “Let’s tie this into cheerleading.”
“How?”
“You guys do a pyramid, correct?” I asked, as I made a show of adjusting my cock.
“Sure,” she said, as she watched me adjust.
“That’s geometry in motion,” I pointed out.
“It is?” she asked, looking a bit flustered.
“Sure; there are angles involved, among other things,” I said, before adding, “that must be very hard to do,” as I stressed the word.
“It takes a lot of balance and teamwork,” she said.
“I bet it does,” I agreed, encouraging her. “I mean, one little mistake and the whole thing comes tumbling down. It must take a lot of practice.”
“I wish the basketball players thought that,” she said. “They don’t understand the hard work it takes to be a cheerleader.”
“They just see you as rah-rah girls,” I said, before adding, “or as sure things.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, instantly offended.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said, knowing I was reeling her in. “It’s just that in the locker room before and after gym class, they talk.”
“They do, do they?” she said, still angry, but the focus of her anger had changed.
“All the time,” I spurred her on, which wasn’t really a lie. The guys talked big around each other between attempts to bully guys like me.
“What do they say?”
“I don’t want to offend you,” I said, knowing this demurral would just reel her in some more.
“Tell me!” she demanded.
“It’s actually quite disgusting,” I continued.
“Just tell me!” she repeated.
“That you girls motivate them before and after the game,” I answered.
“Well, we do,” she said, before thinking for a moment before saying with scorn, “those bastards.”
“I think they actually keep score of who does whom,” I said, not sure that was true, but it seemed like something they’d do.
“Those assholes,” she said, venom literally coming out of her mouth… okay not literally, I hate when people misuse the word literally… but she was furious.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I joked.
“I imagine they’re assholes to you too,” she said.
“Well, most cheerleaders aren’t much nicer,” I pointed out.
“I guess not,” she agreed, surprising me. After a pause she surprised me again, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked, curious what her answer would be.
“For being a bitch and judging you superficially,” she answered, the surprises continuing.
“I’m sorry too,” I apologized back.
“For what?” She asked this time.
“I’ve been judging you, too,” I admitted.
“And how have you judged me?” she asked.
“Do you promise not to get offended?” I said. “I’m told I can be blunt and that I don’t read social cues well.”
“Nothing you can say will be something I haven’t heard before,” she said, now looking a little vulnerable.
“That you were just a dumb blonde,” I answered.
“That’s it?”
“A really hot dumb blonde,” I smiled, trying to make a joke, which may or may not pass as flirting.
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or to hit you,” she smirked.
“Hey, you asked for honesty,” I said. “I can only imagine what you thought… or maybe even still think… about me.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know your name before Ms. Watson insisted I get you to tutor me,” she said, that not coming as a surprise. I mean why would she know me, we didn’t run in the same circles at all.