Chapter 6

As the winter weather cleared away and the color of lawns began to show green, Stephanie had progressed more than anyone could have imagined possible. Her coach praised her performance on the balance beam, and entered her in the final competition of the season. On the afternoon before that meet, Greg planned a light workout for her and after completing all of the routines, he escorted her to the massage therapy room, which was directly connected to the gym but in a separate area.

"Lie down on the table. I am going to give you a real treat."

By this time, Stephanie had complete faith and trust in Greg, and promptly hopped onto the table. Greg applied a liberal amount of lotion to her legs and began to massage them, firmly, but sensibly, not creating pain but allowing them to relax. As he moved above the knees, he asked if he could remove her workout shorts, and she didn't object. She raised her hips slightly and he easily slid them down and past her ankles, allowing them to fall to the floor. He said nothing but resumed massaging the backs of her legs, working his thumbs deeper into the strong muscles and rubbing out any tight spots that he could feel. Eventually he arrived at the spot where they came together. Without hesitation, he began to massage both cheeks, trying his hardest, at this point, not to stimulate her in any way. When he was finished, and satisfied that she was relaxed, he asked her to roll over.

Stephanie was in a dream-like trance. She was completely relaxed, felt quite secure in the comfort of her home and with the man she was sure, at the age of fourteen, that she loved. His request had been so soft and soothing that she thought nothing of the fact that she no longer had anything covering the lower half of her body.

As he had done moments before, Greg began by rubbing the soles of her feet and slowly moved up around her ankles, and progressively higher. When he reached her knees, he pushed her legs apart slightly so that he could reach his hands further to the inside of her thighs. It was at that point that he stopped, and finally looked at Stephanie's body. He stood motionless for some time, and finally Stephanie realized that he had stopped.

"What's the matter?" she asked him, concerned that something was wrong.

"I knew in my heart that you would be beautiful here as well, but I never dreamed that you would be this beautiful."

He moved his hands from her knees and with the index finger of one hand began to lightly run it around the top and side of her pubic hair triangle. There, not two feet from him was the most perfect bush he had ever seen on any girl. Absolutely coal black in color, the hair was soft and somewhat curly and quite full, covering her labia from sight. The top of the triangle, he guessed, was at least five inches wide, and the sides went down almost to the creases where her legs met her hips. He ran the backs of his fingers across her hair slowly, from side to side, just barely touching her at all. When he moved his hand lower, Stephanie brought her legs up somewhat and allowed him visual access to the rest of her. Greg leaned forward, whispered something that she could not quite hear, and put his lips to the opening of her vagina. Stephanie nearly jumped from the table. Every nerve in her body was excited, agitated, and sensitized to the effects of his kiss there. For his part, Greg had seen the droplets of her moisture that had seeped from her body, and could smell the aroma of arousal. He pushed the tip of his tongue into her quickly, moving it around as much as he could. He could feel her body beginning to tense, and, after a minute or so, began to slide his tongue upwards, pushing it firmly against her inner folds until he reached the top. Without touching her clit with his tongue, he circled around it twice and then sucked it firmly into his pursed lips, holding it then with great tension. Instantly Stephanie had an orgasm, as intense as any Greg had ever delivered to any girl before. With his lips, he continued to hold her clit outstretched from her body, nibbling on it gently with his teeth and then tormenting it with the tip of his tongue.

As he brought her to her second orgasm, her legs slapped hard against his head, but he continued on, not relaxing at all, nor allowing her to. After a third, and then a fourth, he finally moved his head away and allowed her to calm down. She went limp.

"I don't know what to say." She finally whispered to him. "That was incredible!"

He kissed her tenderly, and then reached down for her shorts. After he managed to get them back onto her and cover her body satisfactorily, he said, "You are incredible, my dear, in so many ways. I want you to just lay here for a bit and rest. Tomorrow is your first real contest. You only need do what you have been doing with me for the last several weeks, and you will do well. I will be in the stands watching, you know that, and I will be back here to welcome you home when you get back. I am sure that you will do very well."

Stephanie did do very well, finishing first in the balance beam event and third in the overall having competed against the varsity teams from four high schools. Among her teammates there had been some whispers of dissatisfaction and jealousy about allowing a first year student to even be on the team, much less compete in the biggest meet of the season. Those whispers disappeared as the final scores were announced and the ribbons and trophies were awarded. What had been a pre-meet roster of anticipated winners was altered slightly by this tiny upstart girl, a girl who only comes to practice twice a week.

Although it was forbidden by school policy, the coach allowed a sports reporter from the local paper to ride back to school on the bus with the girls and the other coaches. He sat on the seat even with Stephanie's but across the aisle. After verifying her name, age and the name of her parents, he began the interview in earnest.

"Stephanie, I saw you working out at the beginning of the year. I must say that your improvement is nothing short of amazing. How did you get to be so good, so quickly?"

"I don't know what to tell you. I practice a lot."

"But the coach said that you only come to practice a couple times a week. You miss more than half the scheduled practices! What is your secret?"

Stephanie knew what her secret was ... Greg, but she certainly wasn't going to tell that to a reporter. "I told you I practice a lot. I have a gym in my house as well."

"But who teaches you, who spots for you, who guides you?"

"I have a coach at home as well. Look, I don't want to be rude, but I would just like to be able to enjoy this ride home with the rest of my teammates, okay?"

"But, Stephanie, just tell me who..."

"Coach," she yelled out, surprising all on the bus. "Will you make this guy move away? He's beginning to bother me."

Immediately, one of the other male teachers, along on the bus as a chaperone, jumped up and stood between them. "Your choice now, Pal. Move to the front of the bus and stay there quietly, or I'll throw you out the back of the bus, except we won't be stopping."

When the bus arrived that the school, the reporter was the first one to step out. He quickly moved to the back of the group of people that had assembled to meet the team. He was most interested to see who, if anyone, came to meet the young girl. Greg also was standing at the back of the crowd, and recognized the reporter immediately. Quickly, he turned and walked away, distancing himself from the group. Stephanie would have to be content to be met by her parents alone. When they pulled into the driveway, they saw his truck parked near the back.

"I saw that reporter get off the bus and I didn't want him to see us together," he said to the three as he hugged Stephanie and offered his congratulations. "He is too nosy, and always thinks he is about to break out the story of the year."

"He was on the bus, and was trying to get me to tell him who my private coach is. He really made me upset. When I called the coach to ask him to make the guy move, one of the teachers who rides the bus with us threatened to throw him out the back door."

"I wish he had."

"He's creepy."

Mrs. Adams suggested that everyone go into the house and enjoy some hot cocoa or something. "Anything was better that standing outside in the cool damp air, and it's not summer time yet."

As they sat around the kitchen table, Stephanie began to unwind. "I wasn't the least bit nervous on the beam. I knew what I wanted to do, what we had practiced and talked about, and I just climbed on and closed my eyes for a second to get settled, and then started in."

"It was perfect, Sweetie," her mother chimed in. "You looked like an angel out there."

"I just wish that I had done better on the bars."

Her father jumped in then. "Stephanie, this is no time for regrets. You finished first in the event. You have a ribbon and a trophy. You were better that all the other girls at the meet. How much more could you ask for? It was your very first competition."

She looked at Greg, but he nodded. "Your dad is right, Steph. You blew everyone out of the water. Even your own teammates had no idea you are this good. This is your day. Enjoy it. They don't come like this very often, and they don't last forever."

"Well said, young man," her father added, tossing a compliment Greg's way.

Several days later, Stephanie's coach sent a note to her asking that she stop by his office after school. He offered his congratulations to her again and then explained that even though she had won that event, the team as a whole had not scored well enough to continue on to the next bracket of the state competition. He encouraged her to continue to work out during the off season.

"I didn't realize that you have a gym in your home. I had no idea."

"Uh huh. That's why my dad bought that house, so that I could have a place to work out in private, without all the others staring at me when I goof up."

"But doing routines in gymnastics can be dangerous. Do you have someone there spotting for you?"

"Uh huh."

There was a pause before the coach continued. "But does this person know anything about what you're doing so that he can provide for your safety? Who is this coach? I'd like to meet him and find out his secrets."

"Coach Jenkins, I really appreciate everything you have done for me this year and thank you for having the confidence in me to allow me to compete. After that rude reporter got me so upset on the bus ride home, my father told me that I do not have to answer any questions about who he employs in our home, so I guess I'm not supposed to say anything. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Stephanie, I was just really curious. I'm very proud of you and your accomplishments." But her answer didn't stop Coach Jenkins' curiosity one bit. He was determined to find out just who Stephanie had as her home coach. When she left, he put in a call to the reporter.