Cheerleader Drawing Novels & Stories

She’s on the edge of her seat, worried about the match. The mascot appears on the court followed by the cheerleaders who position themselves to prepare a dance number. Halsey can see Daisy and Lydia in the center, basking in the glory. “One!” Daisy counts. “Two! Three!” The music booms through the speakers and the cheerleaders begin to dance. Everyone cheers for them. Lydia somersaults through the court and performs the perfect split to conclude the routine, enjoying the attention. Halsey’s mind isn’t into it and she’s only nervous about the match.

A mischievous smile graced her lips — there was no way Amber would be able to turn her down after saying this. “Amy, do you know cheerleading will give you the opportunity to see Axel up close during the games?” Amber interest piqued as she finally faced Melissa. “What do you mean?” Melissa held her hand. “Cheerleading isn’t just about dancing in cool and beautiful outfits or getting to hang out with cool and gorgeous girls—” “Get to the point, Mel.” Amber rolled her eyes. Melissa chuckled. “Being a cheerleader means you have to stand a little close to the players and cheer for them. Cheerleaders are mainly supposed to raise team spirits.”

They’re still in their tight uniforms, glittering under the lights, their legs bare and their asses just peeking out beneath the fabric. Some of our boys glance their way, eyes widening with interest. Of course they do. Finally some women they can fuck. Unlike us, the cheerleaders are fair game. They aren’t bound by our rules. They're not forbidden. They're available. The cheerleaders scan us with interest. They whisper to each other with sly smirks and tilt their heads at our boys, running their hands down their hair, their necks, their waists. Like they’re in heat. A public mating display.

Leo cheered, skidding to a halt beside my chair and thrusting the paper right into my lap. I looked down at the drawing, a soft, involuntary smile breaking across my face. It was drawn in bold, vibrant colors. In the center was a stone castle with blue flags on the turrets. Standing in the grass out front were three stick-figure people holding hands. On the left was a figure with black hair in a red dress labeled Mommy. On the right was a broad figure colored in black crayon labeled Mr. Tyson. And right between them, holding both of their hands with a yellow smiley face, was a smaller figure labeled Leo.

Nicole. “Heidi…” my heart softened as I dropped to my knees beside her. “I’m gonna put them back, I promise. I just wanted mum to stay here for a while.” One of her drawings rested ont he table too, almost covered by mum’s scarf. I pulled it from under there. It wasn’t the best picture but I could tell it was two older women with a child in between them. One of the women’s hair was done with a yellow pencil while the other was black, the child had tiny dots around her head to imitate hair, but what they all had in common was the yellow circles hovering over their heads and the triangle wings.

The crowd was a chaotic masterpiece: face paint smeared with sweat, foam fingers waving like flags of delusion, and House scarves used less for team spirit and more for dramatically tossing over shoulders. Joy Tau rolled out her shoulders at the edge of the track, her butterfly locs tied up in a high puff that swayed with every stretch. Her navy-and-gold cheer uniform hugged her like it was tailored by vengeance. Thighs taut, back straight, chin high. Next to her, Denise Poppins adjusted her ponytail like it was a crown. "Try not to get in my way," Joy said with a slow smirk. Denise snorted. "You just want to show off."

“Well, we promised that the highest scorer gets to kiss three girls of his choice.” “That’s an excellent one so we want to remind them while they are in the heat of the game. Can you come up with a cheer that will remind them of the kisses?” We cheerleaders looked at each other trying to brainstorm. We all respect Jessica Underwood so whatever she says we can definitely respect her ideas. Eva suddenly snapped her fingers. “I think I’ve got one!” “Let’s hear it!” “We could call the boys names when they are with the ball and say something like ‘Watcha looking for? We got watcha looking for!’”

but now I'm walking on my own two feet to my boyfriend, who calls me. The cheerleaders perform again. Their dance is rhythmic, lively, and, if I may say so... somewhat sensual. The way they swivel their hips, bend and break them, rolling sideways surprises me since I've never really paid attention to what they do. Alice, in particular, is at the center. Her gestures are graceful and sensual, especially when she turns on her back and flirts, showing everyone her extremely short skirt.

Thank goodness, there's one of them who thinks the right way. “Look, we're sorry if we bothered you, but my name's Leanne, captain of the squad.” Said the redhead and just smiled at me warmly. Okay, I just sat there and stared at them with my blinking eyes because it happened really fast. Are cheerleaders always this snappy? Or do they have super speed abilities just like me? “Ummm, so... you are?” The three of them asked while pointing at me. “Oh, sorry. The name's Blair.” I answered and looked at them one by one, and their smiles were not fading. Aren't they tired of always smiling like that? Maybe it's a cheerleader thing.

One stands out to me. The heading reads: ICE DAGGERS. In the first drawing, a woman has her hands outstretched, fingers crooked in a come hither motion. The second sketch features her arms going up, at the third, her palms turn over. Then the fourth sees her draw it back and before her, jagged icicles fromed from water hover. I replay the maneuver in my head, cataloguing it.