10
Taylor
The final week of the summer semester passed in a blur of exams and term papers. I hardly saw Eric during that week because I was at home focusing on getting all of my work done. I wasn’t avoiding him—at least, I didn’t think I was. I was just eager to finish grading exams before the final NFL pre-season game on Sunday.
The Stallions were playing the Houston Texans at home in front of a full crowd. Even though the outcome of the game didn’t matter, it was still good practice for the team—and the cheerleaders.
I showed up to the stadium an hour before the game. But I wasn’t sure where the cheerleader changing room was. For all of the tryouts I had been to, we came fully dressed.
When I found a cluster of other cheerleaders standing in the hall, I hurried up to them and asked, “Hi! Do you know where the changing room is?”
One of the girls, a blonde, pointed. “It’s that door on the left.”
I frowned at the door. “It says home locker room. Isn’t that for the team?”
“It splits off into two areas inside,” she replied with a wry grin. “One for cheerleaders, and one for players. I made the same mistake when I first got here.”
I thanked her and quickly went inside. There was a small hallway after the first door leading to another windowless door. I pushed it open and then stopped in my tracks.
I was in the middle of the locker room. The locker room. Steam hung in the air, along with the unmistakable scent of masculine athletic energy. Musk and deodorant and pure, unfiltered testosterone.
But the smells weren’t what occupied my attention. There was a totally nude football player twenty feet in front of me, grabbing clothes out of a locker. I pulled my eyes away from him and saw another semi-nude player. Everywhere I tried to look were players in various states of undress.
And then I saw him.
Brody was chatting with someone else on the right side of the locker room. He was totally nude, a tapestry of tan skin and chiseled muscle, damp from his warmups or from a shower. He was turned sideways, keeping me from catching a glimpse of his junk. A dark tattoo covered his left shoulder, which rippled as the muscles moved underneath.
Then he reached down and pulled on his jock strap, twisting enough for me to see one meaty ass cheek, smooth and glistening. I held my breath as the jock strap’s fabric slid up his leg, followed by the perfectly white football pants that clung to his body like a second skin.
“Can I help you?” asked a tall dark-skinned man with dreadlocks.
“I’m looking for the cheerleader changing room?” I said in a squeaky voice.
He pointed. “Go back out to the main hall and hang a left. It’s way down at the other end. It’s tough to miss, unless you’re trying to get a free show…”
“No!” I quickly said. “I didn’t mean to. The other girls said it was this way, and for some reason I believed them.”
The man chuckled. “First year on the cheer team, huh? They always trick the new, naïve girls. They’re probably out there, waiting to giggle about the whole thing.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, and then hurried out of the locker room before Brody could see me. Sure enough, the cluster of cheerleaders were waiting outside. They roared with laughter when they saw my face.
“A little rookie hazing!” the blonde one said. “Don’t act so grumpy about it. Did you at least get a good look at anyone?”
I saw plenty of Brody Carter, I thought, but I wasn’t very cheerful about it. That trick shouldn’t have worked on me. I was an associate professor, not some naïve cheerleader who lacked common sense. I strode away as the girls continued giggling.
I found the real changing room and put on my cheerleading uniform: white boots, a baby blue skirt with white boyshort underwear, and a tight push-up top with long sleeves. That helped cheer (pun intended!) me up as I gazed at myself in the mirror. I looked pretty darn good, in my totally biased opinion.
Yet as I joined the rest of the cheerleading team on the field, I couldn’t help but think about what Eric had said earlier in the week. Brody’s probably used to dating supermodels. And that’s exactly what Isabella looked like as she gave instructions to the other women. She was a total bombshell of a woman. Chestnut-colored hair that was thick and silky like she had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. Her boobs were bigger than mine, her ass was a little rounder, and her thigh gap just a little bit gappier.
“Fox,” she said when she saw me. “You’re in spot eighteen today. E-row.”
E-row. That was the fifth row, in the very back. Why wasn’t she putting me in the front? I was one of the stronger girls on the team. She had told me so last week.
Maybe she’s giving the other girls more experience. It was a pre-season game, after all. This wasn’t the real thing. It was a great opportunity to put the less-skilled girls in the spotlight and see if they shone under pressure.
I would be in the front for the first real game of the season, no doubt.
We lined up and went through our cheers as the game started. Most of the fans didn’t care about the cheerleaders, except for a few creepy guys in the front row who never took their eyes off us. Everyone else was focused on the game.