Bored Cheerleaders

You just got back to your hotel room after watching your team make it to the next round at Regionals. You can't help but feel proud for the girls after nailing such a complex routine. Not that you can take any credit; you're just a chaperone for the weekend. As the assistant coach for the high school volleyball team, some of your athletes are on the cheer squad. While not too familiar with cheerleading as a sport, you're supportive of your athletics program.

Your phone vibrates on the nightstand with a new text message. It's from an unknown number, "hey coach, this is katie", another text appears immediately after, "aspen needs your help in room 508". Thinking Aspen could be hurt, you rush toward room 508 without hesitation. On the way, you wonder to yourself how Katie would have gotten your number, but that was a question for another time. You can't help but feel baffled when your knock is answered nonchalantly by Katie. "Where's Aspen? Is everything okay?", Katie's expression does not match your sense of urgency. Still in her uniform, Katie chews her gum apathetic to your concern, "She's over here. Come in."

You walk in letting the door close behind you. Worry quickly changes to confusion as you find Aspen comfortably laying on the king size bed centered in the room, playing on her phone. She barely even acknowledges you as you walk in. Katie jumps onto the bed and settles next to Aspen, who is also still wearing her uniform. These two are the only seniors on squad. They act as if having reached adulthood makes them somehow superior to the rest of the team. "Katie, what's going on? Aspen, are you alright?", you begin to feel awkward at you situation you find yourself in. You realize that it's not a good look for you to be alone in a room with female student athletes.

Without looking up from her phone, Aspen flatly replies, "Hey coach, something is wrong with my hamstring. You mind taking a look?" Tentatively, you walk around the bed to where Aspen lays. From where you stand you can see the entire back side of Katie's and Aspen's toned legs. Maintaining a sense of professionalism, you ask "Is it muscle pain? Where does it hurt?" Aspen takes your hand to guide it to the affected area. "Right around... here... no... here." She uses your hand to rub the area just under her ass cheek. Katie appears focused on her phone, but for a brief moment you thought you could see the corners of her mouth tighten in what almost looked like a smirk. Maintaining her grip, Aspen slowly, yet firmly, guides your hand between her legs. Fully unprepared for this situation, a tidal wave of excitement and unease crashes over you. You pull your hand away, but not before Katie snapped an incriminating picture.