Coach is an extreme androphile. When he’s training his jocks or bulls, he demands all of his boys conform to masculine orthodoxy. However, he recognizes that the men he singles out for his cheerleading track are not like the other boys, and he’s happy for them to indulge their femininity. To a point.
He doesn’t let them dress in pleated skirts, much less bras or make-up or heels. They are, in fact, dressed much like his jocks; jockstraps, baseball caps, sports socks, nothing else. Their full cheer uniform is similar, only with added booty shorts and crop tops. And they’re not pink – maroon and white, with roaring grizzlies on the butt of the pants. All in honor of Coach and his tribe. But here, in the privacy of Coach’s bedroom, he indulges them the feminine lure of pink.
Coach does enjoy seeing his cheerleaders frolicking on the bed; dicks caged, asses ready, titillating, deferential, submissive, and happy to please the men on the Team in whatever way they want. They’re here for support; that is the job of a cheerleader. Whether on the pitch, cheering on his boys to make the winning touchdown, or in the locker room afterwards embarrassing themselves on jock dick while they flaunt their asses in their tiny little cheer shorts, lips pouting and moist, eyes pleading yet innocent, the lust for their masculine older brothers offensively obvious.
Coach is forever conscious of the threat that femininity poses. It’s why he doesn’t let his jocks interact with women, except as sex objects when they’re out of chastity, or in porn. Women can never be friends, lovers or confidants. Too much risk that they will slither into jockboi’s mind and poison it against Coach’s masculine temple. He doesn’t let the cheerbois adopt a fully feminine perspective – even though some, at least, are of that temperament – because he worries about the same thing. That their femininity will somehow reduce the masculinity of his jocks.
He really has nothing to fear. Cheerleaders look with awe and lust at their jock brothers, but the jocks see their little cheerleader brothers as nothing but cute bois to protect, and puffy pussies to fuck. The cheerleaders have no influence, no power. They couldn’t undermine a jock’s masculinity, even if they wanted to. And they most certainly don’t want to! No one is more attracted to the bro-ish machismo of the jocks than the cheerleaders. And Coach knows this, and accepts this, and thus is happy for his bois to indulge their femininity. To a point.
Read the first Jocked novel here!
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