There is an ancient proverb, "Those who can do; those who cannot teach." We changed her focus. Coaching someone on, how to coach, is more difficult than coaching them to do the task. Fortunately, she had some experience in helping other gymnasts. Secretly, I had been talking to the committee. The committee invited Michele and I to the Olympics as assistant coaches.
Our team consists of seven sixteen-year-old girls, one head coach, two assistant coaches and two personal coaches. I am the only male. The girls range in height from four and a half foot up to five foot two inches tall. None of the girls weigh over one hundred and one lbs.
The night before our flight I'm in my office when Lillia, the Team Captain, rushes in.
Breathlessly, "Coach, Annika fell in the showers, we need you," Lillia says
I rush to the showers, quickly leaving Lillia behind.
I get to the showers and find it empty. Lillia clears her throat.
I turn and look at her, she casually drops her towel. She stands there naked.
Lillia chimes, "Did you know that a coach has special privileges, Coach Brown?"
Lillia is five foot two inches tall and weighs one hundred lbs, she has red hair and perky B cup breasts. Her skin is flawless. It's an almost translucent white with no tan lines. Cherry red nipples with dark pink areola. She has nicely trimmed pubes.
I'm stunned by her boldness, "I wasn't informed of this."
Lillia, "Can you help me in the shower, please," she bats her eyes.
I'm still lost in my thoughts when she walks past me.
She draws a finger across my chest, "You can take everything off."
I undress as she turns the shower on.
Lillia coos, "Wash my back please," as she hands me a bottle of liquid body wash.
Not completely out of my stupor, "Yes Ma'am," I reply.
I wash her back as if she's glass and at any time she could break. She giggles a little. Lillia reaches between her legs and takes my phallus between her legs. She closes her thighs and slowly rocks her hips Intercrural style. Her labia part and my phallus rub directly on her clit. She braces herself on the wall.
Huskily she says, "Oh coach, I just love it from behind."
She rocks her hips upwards and drives my phallus into her wet pussy.
Panting, "Oh, coach, please, oh yes," she cries.
I grab her hips and drive forth. Lillia's arms give way and she presses her face into the wall. Her body shakes and her knees quiver. I support her with my hips. After an intense orgasm, Lillia cannot stand. I pick her up with my arms under her knees. I draw her body towards me by pushing her breasts with my hands. I turn us around and brace myself against the wall. I drive forlong into her as my balls start to rise. I pound my phallus into her like there's no tomorrow. I push deep and hard, I drive myself in and explode my jism into her. I can no longer stand and without grace drop us to the ground. I hold Lillia close and fondle her breasts.
Quietly she says, "I saw stars."
The following day we make sure that the team has their passports. We double check the seating arrangement and issue everyone their ticket. We settle in for a long twenty-one-hour flight to Bangalore, India. I am seated between the two youngest girls, Stacy and Lacy. They are the first twin female gymnast. They turned sixteen yesterday. Stacy is four foot eight inches tall, while Lacy is four foot ten inches. They both weigh ninety-nine lbs. Stacy has shoulder length auburn hair, Lacy's black locks flow to just above her breasts. In flight, the girls squeal and jump with every bump and jostle of the plane. I calmly plug their headphone into their terminal and find a movie. Slowly they settle down.
There really is not much to do on a twenty-one-hour flight. Eat, sleep, watch a movie and toilet breaks. Boredom happens fast for teenagers. Lacy takes my hand, I look at her.
She whines, "I'm bored."
I relent. Lacy touches her nose, presses my fingers to her mouth and playfully bites it.
I chide her, "If you are hungry, I can call a stewardess."
Before long Lacy covers herself with a blanket, grabs my upper arm and snuggles into me. I notice my elbow is sitting on top of her breast and my hand is pressed between her thighs. The softness of her breast and location of my hand lays on my mind.
Lacy slowly drags my fingers across the hem of her panties. I look at her. Her eyes melt me and I nod. Lacy slowly slides the hem of her panties over and pulls my hand onto her uncovered vulva. Her pubic hair tickles the palm of my hand. She hooks my middle-finger and opens her cleft. She gathers moisture from her opening. She slowly circles her little bead. Her breathing becomes ragged. Lacy clings to my arm and bites the knuckle of her thumb. An ever so slight moan escapes her. She catches her breath and trembles. She softly drags one of her breasts across my arm.
She quietly exclaims, "Holy shit that was good."
Lacy slowly takes my hand out and releases my arm. I smile and kiss her on the forehead.
The Captain announces that we will be landing in India soon. Our team is the last to leave the plane. We go to the bus that takes us to the Olympic Village Hotel. The other coaches and I take the girls to eat while the head coach checks us in. The head coach pulls me to the side.
Head coach, "The hotel informed me they had lost reservations for two of our team, Stacy, and Lacy. There are no more rooms available. The other coaches rooms are full. You were booked into a twin suite by yourself. Stacy and Lacy will stay in your suite."
Dasha takes a deep breath, "Coach Brown, what happens in India stays in India," and walks away.
We finish eating and head to our respective rooms. I get in one of the beds the twins the other. One will shower and change in the bathroom and then the other. They never change together. I observe they place pillows between themselves. Stacy on the left and Lacy on the right. I don't ask.
Early in the morning, I go to a small conference room to complete forms. Annika creeps in and starts massaging my shoulders. She whispers sweetly in my ear and then nibbles it. I hadn’t noticed that she was naked till she ran her nipple across my forearm. She had come to me before, I am always busy. Annika is four and a half foot tall and she barely tips the scale at ninety lbs. Her olive skin tone is indicative of her Japanese roots. She presses her breast onto my arm making little circles with her erect nipple. She kisses me behind my ear and licks my earlobe. She stands and walks to my side. She presses her nipple into my ear and slowly grinds her Venus mound on my elbow. Softly she moans. Slowly she rides my elbow. She is meticulous in her movements. She pushes herself up to where my elbow has direct contact with her clitoris. She gasps ever so softly. She hugs my head to her breast. Her gyrations become frantic and her breathing comes in gasps. Her legs tremble and her body shakes. She uses me as a crutch to stand. Slowly she gathers strength. She kisses my cheek and leaves. How this started is a mystery. I have tried to join her. I have tried to kiss her to no avail. This is the relationship she wants and I respect that.
We have seven days until the opening ceremonies. Woman’s gymnastics is first, later is Rhythmic gymnastics and lastly is Trampoline. The team and coaches go home after Woman's gymnastics, except Stacy and Lacy. They stay for Rhythmic gymnastics and then go home with me. The entire time I share a room with two sixteen-year-old girls.
Three days before the opening ceremonies Stacy winces when she hits the uneven bars. I get her into a private room for a massage.
Once in the room, I say, "Stacy get on the table."
I get my massage oil and set up. I turn around and find Stacy has stripped out of her leotards. She lay on the table, nude, face down with a towel over her butt.
Stacy, "I will not have oil on my leotards, I always get massaged nude."
I’m slightly confused, Who doesn’t get a nude massage?
I roll my eyes, "What is going on out there? You look like you're in pain on the bars."
Quietly she mumbles.
I kneel beside her, "Stacy, I need to know so I can do a proper massage," I quietly say.
Quietly she replies, "I'm ovulating."
This type of massage requires the lower back, her sides and the abdomen just above the pelvic bone. I start the massage. I finish her lower back and ask her to turn over. Stacy rolls over without hesitation. The towel drops to the floor. Stacy's tiny nipples stand erect on her small, pert, A cup breasts. She is sweating and her breathing is ragged. I pour oil on her abdomen and start.
Stacy gasps, "Coach Brown I can't calm down. Do to me what you did to my sister, please."
She bites her lower lip and pushes my hands downward. Upon the first contact with my hand on her Venus mound, her hips thrust upward. Oil pours down her cleft as I cup her vulva. Stacy rhythmically grinds her hips. My middle finger rubs lightly over her lower lips. She gasps and raises her hips. I part her lips and draw my finger up to find her clitoris. With only a few strokes she catches her breathe and trembles. Her hips give way and then she is still.
She exclaims, "Holy shit that was good."
We towel the oil off, she gets dressed and gets back to work.
Finally, it's Opening day with all its pomp and pageantry. We queue where told and wait. From beginning to the finale lasts three and a half hours. We drag ourselves back to the hotel and sleep.
Our last day for practice. Just like you see on TV, various teams are in the arena at the same time. We move around the circuit, following one country and leading another. When we're finished, we all leave and more teams enter.
We go into the arena and queue at the floor exercise. Unfortunately, Coach Jill has a case of Karachi crouch also known as traveler's diarrhea. Coach Jill is the personal coach for Yvette. Yvette is five foot one inch tall and weighs one hundred and one lbs. Yvette looks stiff when doing her routine. She huffs off the floor and storms towards me.
Gruffly Yvette says, "Coach Brown I need a massage," and walks towards a side room.
I stand there.
Yvette stops and turns around. She shouts, "Please!"
All the girls and coaches stop and look at me. Coach Dasha glares. I toss my hands up and begrudgingly follow Yvette. Everyone goes back to what they were doing.