Date: Tue, 16 Nov 2021 15:07:06 +0000
From: gymcoachnj@tutanota.com
Subject: "Chelsea's Gymnastics Practice"

"Chelsea's Gymnastics Practice"
A Short Fictional Fantasy
By N.J. English

© 2021 All Rights Reserved

DISCLAIMER: The following story is completely fictional in nature and does
not describe any real people, places or situations. The following content
is sexually explicit in nature, and if such material offends you or is
illegal for you to view, please discontinue reading and destroy now.

I parked my car in the staff parking lot around the back of the building.
For about five minutes, I just sat there in my car, the heat hitting me
right in the face. I kept my eyes closed, trying to brush off the stress of
the day. I really do try my best not to bring stress from my personal life
into the gym, but I'm a human being, and sometimes, it's tough!

Over the past week, my whole family has been breathing down my neck,
because I'm trying to plan a holiday get-together, and they're not
cooperating at all. One day it's that they don't like the food choices, the
next day it's the venue, or it's the day or the time, or anything else that
they can think of to complain about. Nothing is ever good enough for them.

After I was done mulling over the day, I turned off the car, grabbed my
bag, and I walked into work. There's a beautiful moment before my workday
starts where the gym is completely empty, and there's nothing but me and
the equipment. No noise, no drama, nothing. I stand in the middle of this
peace for a little bit, right in the middle of the floor exercise. I scan
around the room, and I can see the balance beams, the uneven bars, the
vault, some trampolines, and a ton of mats. The gym is my happy place, and
being here alone puts me at ease, and for right now, I begin to forget
about all of the stress that was occupying my mind.

I put my belongings down in my locker, and I go to sit at the front desk
for a little bit. I've got a little bit of paperwork and correspondence
that I have to do before practices and classes begin for the evening. I've
got to send out some evaluations from last week, fill out an incident
reports for a girl who fell last night and broke her arm, and plan some
staff training sessions for next week, to make sure that the newer coaches
and instructors keep up our standard or high-quality gymnastics
instruction.

About an hour goes by, I finish up my paperwork, and now I have to go to
the bathroom. I get up to walk to the bathroom, and I pass the "lost and
found" table, where I see a shiny little leotard that catches my eye. It's
a hot pink leotard, size extra small, and it's got stripes of pink and
black leopard print across the chest. The back of the leotard has a large
"v" cut into it, with cute, criss-crossing straps to hold the leotard up
and in place. Normally, I don't even notice that the lost and found table
is there, but something about this little pink leotard caught my eye. I
stand there for a second and just look at it from across the hall.
Something about that leotard called me over to it because I walked over to
that table, and I picked up that little leotard in my hand.

I run my fingers over different sections of the leotard - I feel the seams
of the leotards, where the fabric had been machine-stitched together. I run
my fingers over the little rhinestones that are all over it. Then, I feel
the inside of the leotard. It's a little softer than the outside - I feel
where the leotard would have fit tightly over this young girl's tight butt
cheeks. I begin to imagine what kind of young girl would have had this
leotard on. I think about what sporty little legs would have fit into these
leg holes. I move my hands forward a little to the seam at the bottom of
the leotard that would cover a young girl's private parts.

It's then that I really start to notice how excited I'm becoming. I notice
how firm the bulge in my pants is, and I feel it filling my sweatpants to
their maximum capacity. I begin to feel that overwhelming desire that we're
all familiar with, and I need to release all of this newly pent-up energy.
I grab the leotard in my hand, I take it into the bathroom, and I pleasure
myself with the leotard in hand for the next twelve minutes. I release an
enormous load right into the leotard.

I rub my semen into the leotard so that you can't even see it, and I return
it to the lost and found table. I get hard again thinking about a young
girl returning for the leotard she left, not knowing at all what I'd done
imagining her in her tight pink leotard.

Once I make it back to the lobby, I realize that there's ten minutes before
practice starts, and people start pouring in through the front doors.
Family after family comes walking in. Moms and dads to drop off their
daughters, and the young daughters in their cold weather clothes. I know in
the back of my mind that underneath those warm clothes and pajama pants are
tight leotards and shorts, clinging to their tiny little curves.

I get to my practice, and for the next 3 hours, I'm in charge of a group of
22 girls, all aged 11 to 13. My practice today is our level six and level
seven girls. They're super talented, and ahead of other girls their age. It
takes everything in my power to not stare for too long at any one girl in
particular, so that nobody notices me looking at and lusting after their
daughter.

Throughout the practice, I do glance at the girls, though - it'd be
impossible not to. While they're warming up and stretching, my eyes fall on
Allison, who's coming in late from the lobby. Once she gets to the floor
with the rest of us, I watch her pull her pajama pants off, revealing every
inch of her leg and the lines of the leotard framing her legs. She pulls
shorts on over top of her leotard, and as the elastic waist band snaps
against her stomach, her butt bounces like a ball.

To finish off practice, I decide that we'll do thirty minutes of
conditioning. The point of conditioning is to make my athletes' young
bodies stronger, more flexible, and more ready to perform the tough
gymnastics that they're supposed to. They're going through a circuit of
strength training exercises and stretching when another coach runs up to me
and says "Hey, I think that Chelsea has her hair caught in the uneven bar!"
I nonchalantly walk over to the uneven bars, all the way in the other
corner of the gym, and I find Chelsea laying on the floor, her hair caught
in the locking mechanism of the bar. Now, you don't know Chelsea, but she's
got a strong and tight young body, as flat as a board, with hair like
Rapunzel that falls all the way down to her tail bone. It's just Chelsea
and I on this side of the gym, and she's locked into the bar by her hair. I
assure her that it's all going to be okay. The first thing I do is try to
pull her hair free from the bar. I try messing around with the bar
hardware. I can't make anything budge to help get her free. I ask her if
maybe we can cut her hair to get her free. She starts crying, and it's
instantly clear that cutting her hair is not an option.

"All right, I want you to use your hands to hold onto your hair, and I'm
going to go down by your feet and pull from your legs" I tell her. I'm on
my knees down by her feet, and I grab onto her legs. It starts to work, but
I can't get a good grip on her legs because of her gymnastics shorts.
"Chelsea, I can't get a great grip on you to pull you free because of your
shorts.

"Is it okay if I take your shorts off?"

You can see that she's uncomfortable, and she squirms around on the floor a
little bit before hesitantly telling me that I could remove her shorts. I
wrap my arms around Chelsea's hips, and curl my fingers underneath the
waistband of her shorts. As I begin to pull down, my hands softly caress
over Chelsea's waist, then hips, then sweet, tight butt cheeks before I get
her shorts down past her ankles. This moment passes by in slow motion, and
each and every inch makes my mouth water more. As I'm pulling her shorts
down, more and more of her navy-blue leotard is becoming visible. I see the
manufacturer's logo, a little stitched in heart, right over top of her left
hip bone. Once they're off, I tell her that I'm going to try to pull again.
I wrap my hands around her firm thighs, and I give a big pull. She doesn't
budge, but the force of the pull yanks me toward Chelsea, and my hips ram
into her athletic butt. I instantly feel that familiar bulge in my pants
again as my brain registers what's just happened. I just dry humped an
11-year-old. Now the gears in my head start spinning.

"Hey Chelsea, I think I might be able to get you lose if you were on your
front side; do you think you can turn around onto all fours?"

Of course, she has no reason to argue, and instantly starts wiggling her
perfect physique over so that she ends up on her hands and knees. In this
position, I have never seen such a beautiful sight. From behind, not only
can I see her gorgeous long brown hair being yanked above her head by the
bar, but I can see each and every vertebra in her spine, leading me down to
her tight rear end. There isn't an ounce of fat on this girl, but from
behind I can see the outline of her labia through her navy-blue leotard.
It's like her private parts are sucking the leotard into her. As much as I
want to just put my hands and my mouth on her through that leotard, I
momentarily resist the urge, and I tell her that I'm going to pull again.
This time, I again grab her from the outside of her hips, I really squeeze
onto her legs as I try to break her free from the uneven bars. She's
audibly in pain from her hair being pulled out, but it's not going to stop
me from pulling her.

Finally, her hair pulls free from the bar, and her tight little athletic
but slams back into my hips. She lets out a huge moan "Unghhhh..." I'm
still rock hard from the first time she bounced off of my cock, so this
time, she feels it. She must have noticed how hard I was, because when she
looks back at me, she instantly starts blushing. She doesn't know what to
say, but, taking immediate advantage of the moment, I do.

"You must be in a little bit of pain from the bar and hitting me. Do you
mind if I take a quick look at you?"

"Not at all, coach. Thanks for getting me off of that bar."

I gracefully accept her gratitude, and I begin to inspect her body from
head to toe as closely as I can. I start off up by her hair, looking at the
back of her neck. I run my fingers behind her ears, underneath her jawline,
and against the back of her shoulders. Moving down her back, I make sure to
caress her shoulder blades and her lower back.

I roll her over onto her stomach, and I run my hands across her waist, and
her hip, feeling every inch of her perfectly undeveloped body. I move my
hand down to her incredibly shaped butt. I give a quick massage to each of
her round butt cheeks, and I move my hands down to her thighs. There's
something so exciting about being able to almost fit my one hand around her
entire thigh. I continue down her leg, rubbing her calves and moving down
to her feet. Her feet are perfectly clean, and I wrap my excited fingers
around each and every toe.

Finally, I move to help her back up to her feet; as I do, I place my left
arm around her back, and I put my right hand firmly on her left butt cheek.
I make sure that I grab as much of it as I can, feeling that perfectly firm
musculature in my grip. I feel her slipping out of my hands, so I move my
hands to get a better hold on her, and I give her butt a little spank with
my right hand.

I feel my erection pressing against not only my pants, but her hips as I've
got her in my arms. And she can definitely feel it too. She doesn't say
anything about it, but a knowing look in my direction says it all. What's
most exciting to me is that the look wasn't disgusted or surprised, but one
of a peaceful happiness, a look that says that she liked it.

I put her back down on her feet, and I give her a big, warm hug, my cock
pressing against her belly through both of our clothes. She goes back to
practice like nothing ever happened.

I, however, can't just go back to practice like it didn't happen. My
thoughts and testosterone are racing around. I make a quick walk to the
men's room, and I sit down in the stall. I drop my pants down to the
floor. Taking my cock in my hand, I begin to think about what more could
have happened with Chelsea. I begin to think about what it would have been
like to remove her leotard from the top, taking it off starting at her
shoulders. I'd expose her small brown nipples, and instantly my tongue
would be drawn toward them. Her breath would shudder with strange
excitement that she's never felt before. She wouldn't know what the feeling
was, but she'd know that she enjoys it, as she feels the warm space between
her legs start to become wet.

Removing the leotard further, I'd remove it from the bottom of her, leaving
her olive-tanned skin flush against the gym mats. She'd be completely naked
on the gym floor, all of her preteen body ready to be examined. I'd begin
on her backside, taking her tight butt in both of my hands, massaging and
spreading her cheeks. Moving over to her front side, I'd examine her
preteen private parts, how tight, hairless and undeveloped everything
is. At this point, she's dripping wet, and she doesn't even know why, and
that's part of what makes it so exciting.

All the while, I'm stroking my cock in the men's room, imagining what each
and every hole of Chelsea's body looks, feels and smells like. The moment I
begin to envision entering her tight preteen body, I let out a huge load of
cum, so much that it lands on the floor in front of the toilet, and I have
to quickly clean it up before anyone walks into notice.

For a moment, I feel guilty for having subject this young, pure innocent
girl to be the object of my twisted fantasy and desires, but then I think
back to that knowing look that she gave me when I grabbed her butt and she
felt my rock-hard cock against her body, and I assure myself that she'd
have loved to make my fantasies a reality. For the time being, though,
they'll remain as a fantasy in my mind.