If you’re a 20-something male reporter, working a high school gymnastics beat is one of the most agonizing things you can imagine. Aside from the fact that you probably know nothing about the sport, you have girls — some of whom already have the bodies of fully-developed women — contorting their bodies into ungodly positions while sporting a leotard.

Through years of being on the beat, I had developed closer relationships with some gymnasts — usually the better ones — than others, mostly from talking to them so much each season.

My first year on the beat, I saw this girl on one of the area teams with the most intense focus I had ever seen during a routine. It hurt me just to watch her. I went to talk to her after the meet and between every other word was a light giggle. She was a sophomore, so I get it; she’s young, not used to talking to reporters. As she, and her team, improved over the next two years, we talked a lot more. I knew it was unprofessional, but we sometimes crossed the line into harmless flirting during her senior year.

“Have you finally decided on a college?” I’d ask after seemingly every meet. “(laughs) No. I’m still thinking about it.” “God, I’d hate to see what you’re like trying to order food on a date.” “Shut up! It’s a big decision. I don’t want to rush it.”

She had piercing blue eyes, thick brown hair and the whitest teeth you’ll ever see outside of a toothpaste ad. Even against her fair skin, her pearly whites stood out.
I asked her out on a date in March — months after the season ended — but she said she just wanted to be friends, which I completely understood. She graduated two months later and, for all I knew, was leaving for college later that summer.

While covering a preseason event at her old high school, I saw that she posted a photo of what looked to be the benches next to me. I looked over and saw her there. She looked great, but I was surprised she was still in town.

“What are you still doing here?” I asked. “I leave tomorrow morning. I wanted to see the girls one last time.” “Always the perfect teammate, I see.”

I figured that since I had her here, I might as well use her expertise of the school.
“Question, how do I get up there?” I asked, pointing to the upper balcony that provided a bird’s-eye view of the gym. “There’s a door. I’ll show you.”

The view was incredible. “This is perfect,” I said, grabbing her hand, kissing it, then looking back at the scenery. That’s when it hit me; I had just crossed that line.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that!” I said in a panicked apology. I looked at her for a response, which seemed to take an eternity. She looked at me with a puzzled face, like she was trying to make sense of the last five seconds.

“Really?” she said, furrowing her brow. “You didn’t?”

Now I was puzzled.

“What do you mean?” I asked, furrowing my own brow. She broke her stoic pose and laughed, “Nothing. I’m just joking with you. It’s fine; don’t worry about it.”

After I let out a long exhale, she laughed some more. She was basking in the ambiance of my nervousness. I was almost certain she could see my heart beating out of my chest like a cartoon. “This view is nice, but there’s a better view over here,” she said, leading me across the balcony.

It was her coach’s office. Being naïve, I sat in the chair and asked if there was a window or another door. “You don’t think this view is better?” she said, making it very clear that there was no window or spare door in the office.

“A little.” I said, smirking back at her. She removed her cardigan and stepped closer, leaning in with her hands on the arm rests. “How about now?” I put my hands on her hips and pulled her towards me. She positioned herself on my lap, straddling my waist. I leaned in, just enough to feel the light friction of our lips against one another’s. “This is much better,” I whispered, gently kissing her.

Her arms were rested over the chair, her left hand tugging my hair to pull my neck back. She started at the collar of my neck and worked her way up. As each kiss got softer, my hands gripped harder on her sides.

“I take it you like that?” she breathed into my ear. I grabbed her ass and lifted her off the chair and onto her coach’s desk, slamming her on the cool metal. She gasped for air and looked at me with a gaze of surprise. “I take it you like that?” I muttered.

As I started to caress her body, slowly running my fingertips along her shoulder and down her arm, I could feel the goosebumps rising as I got further down. She reached for my belt to pull me closer. She slid her right hand down my pants, grinning. “Why hello there,” she said, upbeat. “Someone’s excited.” She undid my belt and slid my jeans down before stroking the lining of the bulge in my briefs. “Do you want it?” she sighed, breathing heavily. “Yes,” I breathed, my cock now throbbing with its own pulse. “Do you want it?” she said again, with more authority. “Yes,” I said, breathing heavier now.
“Then take me,” she demanded.

I began to lift her dress up, just enough to get over her curves. As she was pulling my briefs down, my cock was creating a mountain effect, making her stretch the lining out further to get over it. I pulled her red thong to the side and slowly inserted myself into her. She grabbed my shirt and put her head against my shoulder as she started quivering. “Oh God,” I moaned.

I grabbed the front of her dress and wrapped it in my hand, strapping myself in for what was about to happen. “You know we can’t be in here long, right?” I cracked. She squeezed my face and kissed me. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

I don’t know if it was the thrill of someone walking in on us at any moment, the fact that I was living out one of my wildest fantasies or a combination of the two, but I didn’t care about anything else in that moment.

“Is this what you always imagined,” she said, smiling back at me. “No,” I said, beaming into her eyes.

I pulled out and took her hand. I stepped back to the chair and sat down. “Sit,” I commanded. She wiggled her hips as she removed her thong and tossed it carelessly to the floor before slowly lifting her right leg high over my lap. After following suit with the other, she grabbed my cock with her hand and put me back inside of her.

“This is what I always imagined,” I said.

Her hands were pressed firmly against my torso and she rocked up and down on my cock, moaning routinely whenever I was fully inside of her. “God, you’re so much bigger than I thought,” she groaned, her eyes closed and head tilted back in ecstasy. “I definitely wasn’t expecting that.”

After awhile, she paused and got up. She grabbed my shirt until I was vertical, standing over her petite frame. She cupped the back of my neck so that our lips could reach one another.

“One more time, here,” she said, backing up to the desk. I started walking towards her when she put her hand up against me chest. “Stop.” She crouched down to the floor, giving a quick lick to my cock before wrapping her lips around it. I could see her playing with herself with her left hand as she stroked me with her right.

She released me with a *pop!* before standing back up to position herself before I took her again. “Finish strong,” she said.

I took my shirt off and threw it behind me, my chest was now glistening with sweat. I stuffed my cock inside of her one last time, now releasing a sigh of relief from her. I took her left leg and started raising it, first to torso-level, then shoulder-level, then head-level.

I gripped the inside of her thigh as I would thrust harder, preparing to finish. I would thrust, she would scream; I would thrust harder, she would scream louder; I would thrust faster, she would breath faster. She was holding her left ankle with her left hand, but was searching for anything to grab with her right until she clung to my forearm and sank her nails in.

“Give it to me,” she sighed. As I penetrated her harder, she struggled to have the words leave her thin lips. “Fu-, fu-, fu-, holy fuck,” she exhaled. “You better cum for me,” she demanded.

“Hold on,” I said, thrusting harder. The sensation of busting was euphoric. “Fuck!” I exclaimed, sweat running down my forehead. She threw her head back to lay on the desk, depleted of all energy.

“Well, I’m guessing that neither of us are going back to the gym now?” I joked. “Na, we look like hell,” she smiled back. “Do you know a back exit or some way to get out of here relatively undetected?” I asked.

“An actual exit…” I sarcastically cracked.

“Yeah, there’s one down the stairs and to the left,” she laughed. I paused. “Seriously,” she said.

I picked up my shirt off the floor and we walked back out onto the balcony. Just as I grabbed my laptop and notebook, my brain went off. “Oh shit,” I said, running back to the office. I looked behind the door, where her red thong was sitting bunched against the coach’s file cabinet. I picked up them and dangled them from my finger as she walked back to see what all the fuss was about.

“What’s up?” she asked. “I thought you might need this.” I said, smirking shamelessly. She smiled back and reached for them, grabbing the thong and my finger all in one.
She pushed her fist and my hand against my chest.

“That’s OK. You keep them. That’s my going-away present to you,” she said.