Good Girl vs. Slut Ch. 01

  • 1 year ago
  • 18 min read
  • 43,117 Aufrufe

"Great job, girls! Nice hustle!"

Trisha wiped the sweat from her forehead as she walked into the girls' locker room. Cheerleading practice had been extra hard today. Even worse, on Wednesday the JV squad practiced in the middle of the day, which meant the girls had to move quickly in order to catch their next class. The sound of voices, slamming locker doors, and scuffling footsteps on the floor echoed through the room. Trisha reached her locker and opened it. As she pulled out her gym bag, Trisha glanced at herself in the mirror, eyeing her skimpy cheerleading uniform. When they were doing their routines, the uniform made sense – the skirt was short so that it wouldn't get caught on their legs, and the top had to be tight on their bodies so that it wouldn't slide down if they did cartwheels or flips. Once practice was over, however, Trisha couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. The pleated miniskirt barely reached the tops of her thighs – if she had ever tried to leave the house in another skirt this length, her mother would have thrown a fit. The zip-up top hugged her body, accentuating every curve.

"Bye Trisha!" Her friend waved at her as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and left.

"Bye Amanda!"

And Trisha's body frame didn't exactly help matters, either. Trisha had always been a petite girl, barely over five feet, with a tapered, thin waist and slender legs. But despite her slight frame, Trisha had been blessed with an ample, full chest. It was a trait that she had secretly always been proud of, although of course, she would never think of admitting it out loud. 32C… she thought to herself cheerfully. And yet, whenever she wore her uniform, she wished that they weren't so big, that they didn't bulge out of her blouse and strain against the tight fabric. Trisha laughed at herself. I'm complaining about my boobs being too big? Geez, Trisha, get a grip. She pulled her regular clothes out of her gym bag and fished a scrunchie out of her purse. With one hand, she reached behind her head and pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail.

"Ugh, Coach Pennings kept us late again," the girl next to her complained, as she pulled her tank top down over her head. "Doesn't she know that we all have class right afterwards?"

Trisha nodded, rolling her dark brown eyes in agreement. "I know, it sucks. And I have AP History right after this, too."

The girl made a face. "Ooo, even worse. See you around, Trisha!" She had already finished changing and was hurrying off – her class was all the way across campus. Usually, the team walked out together, but in the middle of the day, they all raced off as soon as they could.

"Bye Lisa!" Trisha watched as the girl scampered out of the locker room. As the door swung open, another girl walked into the room, and everyone's head turned to look at her. She was the kind of girl that turned heads; absolutely stunning, tall and statuesque, with shimmering blue eyes and curly blonde hair that fell across her shoulders and down her back. It was Britney, the head cheerleader. She was getting ready for varsity practice, and she was talking loudly on her cell phone.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, opening her locker and unzipping her backpack. "Calm the fuck down, I've got it all organized. I did a little 'talking' with the football coach." There was a strange emphasis on the word 'talking,' and Trisha wondered who she was speaking to. Britney pulled her top over her head and bent over to shove her backpack into her locker.

Even though it was a bit inappropriate, Trisha stared as Britney bent over. The head cheerleader's body was more than envious; her legs were long and slim, looking faultless in the glaring light of the locker room. Despite her height, Britney's frame was impressively thin, and her slender chest and waist were emphasized by a pair of massive, bouncy breasts – a boob job, more than one girl had muttered at lunch.

And there was another reason why Britney always turned heads. Without a doubt, Britney was the class slut at Eisenhower High. New rumors flew through the halls daily about the latest guy – or guys – she had slept with. If nothing else, her outfit was always a clue. Trisha heard a girl behind her scoff as the head cheerleader's black, skin-tight miniskirt rode up her ass, exposing a bright red G-string. The top that Britney had just tossed into her locker was sheer and white, and the neckline plunged to her mid-chest. The JV cheerleaders continued their conversation, but a new, icy vibe had filled the room, as each girl kept a half-jealous, half-disapproving eye on Britney as she changed. Trisha watched as Britney carefully stepped out of her stiletto heels, pulled on her trainers, and tugged on her cheerleaders' blouse and skirt.

As soon as Britney left, still chatting on her cell phone, the talking started.

"What a slut…" That was Rachel, who had just closed her locker and was zipping up her backpack.

"I know." Trisha's friend Mandy had just put a hand on Trisha's shoulder to steady herself as she tugged on her shoes. "How can she even call that a skirt? She might as well be naked."

Trisha nodded, but inside she sighed. She wasn't the biggest fan of Britney's clothes either, but she wished that her friends would stop criticizing her every time she left the room. She was careful to laugh along with them when they made jokes at the head cheerleaders' expense, but she couldn't help feeling a bit guilty every time she did it. After all, Britney was a cheerleader too, and that put them on the same team, right? Why did they have to be so mean?

"Hey, slowpoke, get your butt moving." Mandy's voice jolted Trisha out of her thoughts. "You're going to be late for class."

Trisha smiled at her friend. "I know, I know. I'll be fine. See you tomorrow!" She waved as the rest of the girls filed out of the room, still talking about Britney, leaving Trisha alone to change.

She leaned down to start untying her

Mehr anzeigen
87%
ABOUT
WEITERGEBEN
Written by hiddendesire_
Hochgeladen December 2, 2019
AddTo content hare