When I put on the uniform I become someone else. Soft and delicate. Flexible and Graceful. I’ve always wanted to be her and now I am.
Most guys dream about bedding the cheerleader, but my dreams were always different. I saw the way that they moved, the way that they drew the eye of everyone in the crowd. People stared at them and I wanted everyone to stare at me.
I was so hesitant but she showed me the way. She taught me how to embrace my true dream and now she’s going to push me past my limits.
The head cheerleader did this to me, she made me into this soft and beautiful woman. She made me into someone who turns heads, guys staring at my long legs and my toned tummy. She made me into someone beautiful and enticing.
And now she’s going to show me why. Here in this dark bedroom with his intense green eyes watching me I understand. I’m not just a woman, I’m a gift for him.
It should be cliche, star quarterback and the naive new cheerleader. He should scare me, so tall and strong and hungry for me. I should run away, but instead I’m rushing forward.
I’m letting him have me. I’m letting him show me what a woman really needs.
Excerpt
“Who would you rather be?” she asked me, “Who would you rather look like? Me? Or you?”
“You,” I admitted, blushing as I realized what I was asking for.
But it was easy to ask for a dream. It was easy to beg for a fantasy and know that it would never happen. The hurt would come later when I slipped into that uniform and endured whatever humiliation she had planned for me.
For the moment, I could dream.
Melody smiled and pulled her uniform back on. She turned me away from the mirror then, facing in the opposite direction, and she plucked each piece of my uniform up and started to dress me.
When she slid the white stockings up my legs I felt them, so smooth and so soft. They were so tight that it felt like they were reshaping me, like they were scraping away the hair on my legs and conforming to me but not just that they were moving me to look like someone else.
My legs felt shapely and toned. They felt tall and defined. They felt smooth and soft, the legs of a woman.
The top came next, sliding on over my head and settling around my chest. I felt it grip my ribs a little tight and secure, pushing into my chest and pulling at it at the same time. There was a weight left when they were in place, like they weren’t as empty as I knew they were. Like they weren’t just going to hang there sagging and showing me for who I was.
Like if I looked down I could actually see breasts on me.
“Not yet,” she responded when I tilted my head down. She pushed my chin back up with her knuckles and then softly caressed my cheek, my lips.
Her touch was so soft on me that I couldn’t even feel the stubble that never seemed to fully go away. My lips felt glossy and smooth when she pulled back, a little plumper than I’d expected.
Melody plucked up the skirt next and slid it up onto my hips. She settled it in place and I felt the loose fabric brushing against the bare skin of my thighs. I felt my hips settle in, my upper thighs settle in. I felt a rush of desire when I realized what I was doing and blushed, knowing that my cock must be making an obscene bulge in the front of that pleated skirt.
So my hands moved instinctively to cover it, but Melody wouldn’t let me. She took my hands in hers and squeezed them, running her hands up my arms afterwards and holding onto my shoulders.
“One more thing and then you’ll be perfect,” she said with a smile and a gentle kindness that surprised me.
From somewhere she plucked out hair ties and I stared baffled at them as she moved them up as if to put them in my hair. My head was buzzed and I knew that wouldn’t work, but as her fingers brushed against my scalp I felt the pull and tug as her fingers ran through long and luxurious hair that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
I held my breath as she finished and then turned me back to face the mirror.
It took a while for me to realize what I was staring at.
The woman standing in the mirror, the women standing in the mirror. Because there were two now, Melody and someone else.
Brunette, not blonde, with a fresh-faced appeal to her like the college co-ed she was. She was slight and smooth, not as busty as Melody but just as beautiful. Breasts that filled out her top, hips that flared out her skirt, long and smooth legs that stood just a few inches apart from one another to make you wonder what she had hidden at the tops of them.
She was a woman, breathing heavily with her big brown eyes wide and wondering. She was a cheerleader, picture-perfect.
And she was me.