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Message-ID: <61632asstr$1319490601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Sterling Smith <sterling27@live.com>
Importance: Normal
Subject: {ASSM} The Gymnast (Mg cons het 1st pedo rom)
Lines: 602
Date: Mon, 24 Oct 2011 17:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Author: Sterling
Title: The Gymnast
Summary: A fiercely-competitive nine-year-old gymnast discovers
a secret: sex with a man will improve her gymnastics. She finds
a man, and love slowly blends in with the sex.
Keywords: Mg cons het 1st pedo rom

NOTICE:  This story contains explicit sex.
 
First posted 9/11/2009, new header added 8/26/2010.
 
I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.
 
I have written many other stories and they can all be found at 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sterling/
 
You are welcome to copy this story if you include the entire
text unchanged, including this notice.  If you tell me where
you have re-posted it, I can enjoy knowing it is appreciated
and perhaps enjoy the feedback the story gets where you re-post it.
 
Sterling
 
And now, our feature presentation.  Enjoy!
 
==================================================================

The Gymnast

My wife fell in love with another man and divorced me. She got
custody of our seven-year-old daughter Kerry, naturally.  I
didn't get to see her anywhere near as much as I would have
liked. She would have liked to see me more too, but her mother
didn't allow any more than the standard every-other-weekend that
a father gets in this state.  But I went to school events,
encouraged her to bring friends over, whatever I could do to
share her life as much as I could.  I had a lucrative but not
very demanding job with flexible hours which let me make time for
going to all of Kerry's events.

When Kerry was nine, she had a classmate named Erin. She wasn't a
best friend or anything, but they were friendly.  I met her
because they went to each other's parties.  I thought she was
cute, but then I find most girls cute, some of the best scenery
on earth.

I was surprised when her father Elliot asked me out to dinner. 
We had met at a Parents' night once and chatted briefly.  After
pleasantries and sharing the basics of each other's lives, he
began to talk to me about his daughter.  She was a gymnast, and
she took it very seriously.  She was on the team of a local club,
and practiced for hours every day.  Her goal was to be national
champion, and her coaches said she just might have it in her. 
She was an only child, and Elliot and his wife were heavily
invested in her success.

Elliot had made an interesting connection.  Erin shared some of
the gym gossip with her mother.  A 16-year-old had decided to
start sleeping with her boyfriend.  A little later the more
shocking news came out that a 13-year-old had started sleeping
with a boy who was a little older.  Erin's mother Sonya had in
turn shared these tidbits with Elliot.  People were prepared for
their gymnastic performance to slide, but it hadn't.  Elliot
looked into the records and found their performance had actually
improved a little, and it looked like it was around the time they
started having sex.  One possibility was that the improved
performance gave them a self-confidence to try new and different
things in their lives.  But Elliot had hired a private
investigator, who had determined that it was one week AFTER they
started sleeping with the boys that their performance started
edging up.  Wasn't that the strangest thing?  I had to agree it
was the strangest thing, and joked that it was horrifying to
think that competitive gymnasts might start sleeping with boys to
get an edge.  He laughed.  I was expecting him to continue with
his story, but after a few noticeable silences he went on to
other topics.

The steak was excellent.  Then as we were finishing dessert he
shifted in his seat a little.  He had told Erin what he had just
described to me.  He was just sharing information with her, that
was all, he said.  I thought that he may have convinced himself
he was just sharing information, but it was hard to believe that
was the whole story.  Elliot continued that Erin was now set on
having sex, even though she was nowhere near puberty.  Sonya and
Elliot were clear with Erin that she could not start having sex,
but Erin was just as clear that she was going to.  She was going
to find a way, and knowing their daughter's determination, they
believed her.  It was evident to me that Sonya and Elliot should
have made it clear that she would be finished with gymnastics if
she did any such thing, but they didn't.  They really, really
wanted Erin to succeed, and they convinced themselves that they
couldn't stop her.  So, Elliot continued, they decided that if
she was really so set on it, they should try to find a boy who
was suitable instead of her randomly trying to find someone.  And
of course there was this huge obstacle that she was only a girl,
with no sign of sexual development.  Boys wouldn't naturally be
interested in her.  Or if they were, they wouldn't dare admit it
to themselves or risk anyone else finding out.

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach, my heart racing.  I was
afraid I knew where this was heading.  I must not say a word, of
course.  Not one word.  I wondered if this was a sting operation.
 Later I decided it was way too elaborate, but I wasn't so sure
at the time.

Elliot fixed me with a long gaze.  It was clear just what I
should do.  I should change the conversation back to pleasantries
for as brief a time as politeness required, insist on paying half
the check, say it was so nice to get together with him, and
leave.  But not a single pleasantry came out of my mouth.  As I
well knew, there was a hidden but primal, powerful part of me
that did not want to leave.

What they needed was a man.  He and Sonya had done some research
and determined that 10% of men experienced a notable degree of
sexual attraction to pre-pubescent girls.  In today's society,
all of them with one wit of sense kept these feelings of
attraction completely to themselves.  But Sonya and Elliot had
thought it over and now understood fully that it was not a choice
but a natural inclination, just like being gay, and there was no
shame in feeling it.

They needed to be highly discreet about this, so they had hired a
different set of private investigators recommended by the first
to see if they could find a likely man among those who rubbed
shoulders with the girls in the school, mostly other fathers. 
They ruled a lot of them out quickly.  Based on prior experience,
the private-investigator-scientists had found that where men
looked was the best clue.  They arranged to collect a lot of
high-quality video footage.  I tried not to turn pink. 
Surprisingly, there was not just one, not two, not three, but
four men they found who looked at girls surreptitiously, and who
tended to look at their chests, crotches, and dress hemlines,
especially crotches.

The private investigators had also determined that there were
reasons to avoid three of the men.  Their investigations
corroborated Erin's intuition that they were "sketchy".  But that
left the fourth man.  They had been as thorough as to determine
that this fourth man looked specifically at Erin's crotch and
chest, not just those of some other set of girls.  And he was
also divorced and not involved with anyone.

There was a long pause.  "Are you the FBI?" I asked.  I hadn't
ordered any child porn, and had done nothing illegal, nothing to
arouse suspicion -- except apparently glancing at little girl's
crotches, which I was quite sure was not a criminal offense if
done with reasonable discretion.

He smiled, and said they realized full well that they were asking
this fourth man to consider something that was illegal -- a
serious crime.  They had some thoughts on that.  They were
planning to give him, for storage in escrow, documents signed by
both parents and the daughter saying they had initiated this. 
And videotape of Erin describing articulately what she wanted and
why.  If the man was guilty, both parents would also be guilty of
child trafficking.  And though Erin's explanation would have no
legal weight, it might be worth something in terms of leniency.

Another pause.  "One more thing," he said.  "She likes you."  He
had finally gone from "this fourth man" to "you".  "In your brief
meetings she's gotten good feelings about you."   "Think about
it," he said.

---------
It was early evening on a winter's night.  I gave a soft knock on
Erin's door.  "Come in," she said, so I did, and closed the door
behind me.  She was standing by the desk, wearing a sweater,
dressed in jeans.  I hesitated.  She had short brown hair, blue
eyes, an attractive but not gorgeous face.  If I had fantasized
about being in this position a month before, Erin wouldn't have
been my first or second choice among Kerry's friends.  But she
was plenty attractive.  I had discovered long ago in life that
honesty usually served best.  "This is really weird and awkward",
I said.  She gave a forced smile.  "Tell me about it."  I went
over to her and gave her a friendly non-sexual hug and held it. 
"All the papers are signed," I said, "but I have decided you have
to show me every step of the way that this is what you want." 
She pulled away and nodded uncertainly.  Then she handed me a
piece of paper and said "I was going to say all this but I had to
write it down instead".  She then went to the bed and sat,
slumping and looking down miserably.  I read:  "I really want to
do this.  I have stretched my vagina so it can fit your penis,
and I lubricated it already.  I know you are doing me a big
favor, and if you laugh at me that's OK.  And I'm so scared and
nervous I'm going to be in agony until we do it the first time."

I folded the paper in half and put it on the desk, and slowly
walked over to sit next to her on the bed, and stroked her hair
gently.  "I would never laugh at you."  Then I thought about what
would make it easiest for her.  "OK," I said.  "Tell me if you
want to do anything differently, but here's my plan:  I suggest
we turn out all the lights, then you take off all your clothes,
get under the covers in your bed, and face the wall."  She
nodded, though I noticed she was a little pale.  I went over to
the desk and turned off the only lamp in the room.  The shades
were already down, so it was quite dark.  There was an
illuminated clock, and I looked to her for any possible objection
before I unplugged it.  I could hear her stripping and getting in
the bed.  I also took off all my clothes, and climbed in bed
behind her.  Her small warm presence in itself was thrilling.  I
ran my fingers over her face, around her short hair, then
meandered down her smooth flat chest, over her hip, down the
outside of one thigh, and then gradually up the inside.  I came
to a gentle stop where the two legs came together.  I lifted her
upper leg a little and she held it up, lifting the sheet and
blanket as she did.  I gently stroked labia that were perfectly
smooth, no hair or shaved skin, just the tiniest hairs that are
all over a woman's body.  "You are really sexy", I said.  She
gave a soft, ambiguous "HmmMmHm".  My erection was rock-hard. 
"Are you still sure?  If you have second thoughts, we can stop
any time."  "No, I really want to do it," she whispered.  OK, I
thought, now I commit the felony.  "OK.  Let me know if you want
me to stop and I will."  So I gently spread her labia and felt
alluring dampness.  I touched my penis to the opening.  "OK, here
goes" I said, then pushed.  I slid in easily just a little.  She
giggled.  She was wet inside and my penis felt enfolded, kissed,
blessed by an angel.  I went out a tiny bit, then in further,
each time a little further.  She was giggling the whole time.  I
reached the end of her vagina, and while I had fit only about 3/4
of my penis into her, that was just right for a girl.  I knew the
giggling was nervousness, not derision, but still I wanted some
solemnity to what was to me a sacred moment.  "Shhh" I said
gently, and she quieted.  Let's put this girl out of her virginal
misery, I thought.  I ran my fingers over her smooth chest as I
thrust gently back and forth, my desire and excitement building
to overwhelming.  I kissed the nape of her neck and squeezed her
torso against me just before giving way to my spectacular orgasm,
which sent my mind reeling and breathing heavily.  But gentleman
that I was, I had made sure not to press into her too far, not to
thrust in a frenzy of strokes.  After a few more slow strokes my
body relaxed.  I pulled out and fell onto my back behind her,
panting.  "All done," I said.  "Really?" she asked.  "Yes, why?"
"In the movies daddy showed me it was a lot more than that." 
"Well, you said you'd be dying of nervousness until we did it the
first time, so I did it as quickly and gently as possible.  How
are you doing?"  "Fine.  It felt weird, but it didn't hurt at
all."  There was a pause.  "Do you feel anxious or ashamed or
angry?"  "No, no, it's a huge relief.  Thank you so much." 
"Well, then can I hug your back?"  I didn't wait for an answer. 
I spooned up beside this lovely young girl and draped my arm over
her.  "That was really special for me," I said.  After maybe
thirty seconds of back hugging she asked "Can we get up now?" 
Maybe neither of us had thought about this part of it in detail.
"OK," I said, a little disappointed.  So I turned on the light
and dressed while she stayed covered in bed.  I stroked her cheek
once and said goodbye.

I thought about it more.  It was a dream come true, but there was
something a little unsatisfying about it.  I wanted more than
barely-touching little fucks in the dark.

Apparently Erin reported that it had gone OK, and Elliot called
me the next day.  "We never talked about the details," he said. 
"I'd be interested in knowing how often you're willing to do
this.  We don't know what aspect of sleeping with the boys may
have caused the performance to increase, but it certainly might
have been more than just brief intercourse."  Ah, maniacally
competitive minds and pedophilic minds think alike.

---------
I knocked on Erin's door and went in, smiling.  She smiled too. 
We sat on the bed next to each other.  "We don't know what might
help your gymnastics, but acting more like a boyfriend and
girlfriend is probably a good idea."  "Yeah, that's what we
figured too."  That still left a great many choices.  I decided
kissing should wait until she felt some real romantic attraction,
if ever.  Was I going to try disrobing her?  That didn't feel
right either.  Once again I decided straightforward might work
better.  "How about taking all your clothes off?"  I started
taking mine off.  She hesitated.  She stood facing me and slowly
took her clothes off, but as she had her hands on her panties
ready to pull them down, she paused and looked thoughtful.  My
hard penis had just come into view. "But I haven't even started
puberty, or grown sexy at all".  I looked her up and down and
said with feeling  "I love your body, and I think it's incredibly
sexy".  A pause.  "So, you're a pervert?"  I froze, and drew in a
deep breath.  The question was delivered in a friendly and
curious tone, but it still stung.  A tear came to my eye as I
whispered "Isn't that what you need?"  "I ... I'm sorry", she
said.  My erection was falling fast, and she noticed.  Looking a
little uncomfortable she asked "What can I do?".  "Take your
panties off, for starters."  She made a sort of "doh" expression
and quickly took them off.  I thought a moment.  "Say 'I really
really want you to fuck me.'"  She was startled a little by the
f-word, but after a brief pause said "I really really want you to
fuck me."  But she went on with greater enthusiasm:  "I really
really want you to FUCK me!"  She wasn't pretending to be wild
with desire, she was just telling me what she wanted, and that
was good enough for me.  "So now move your hands lightly all over
this fine organ here which has to get hard again before I can do
what you really really want".  She knelt down to touch my penis
tentatively, respectfully, and with curiosity, and her gentle
stroking was working pretty well.  She then smiled at me, leaned
forward and took the tip of my penis in her mouth.  That was
surprising, and from the surprise and the gentle touches of her
small warm wet gymnast's mouth my erection revived fully.  "That
feels great" I said, and she stopped.  "I saw it in those movies"
she said.  She then lay back on the bed with legs spread wide,
smiled at me, and reached out her arms as if inviting me for a
hug.  That was more like it!  I was starting to get a little
sense of her personality, and I was charmed.  Her body was fairly
small, perfectly proportioned, and muscular if you looked
closely, just the way a champion gymnast should look.  Her skin
was light, smooth, glowing.  Her chest was perfectly flat, and I
could see now the innocent labia I had felt the night before. 
She was perfection.  I descended on her.  She spread her labia
and I slid in, holding myself up with my hands.  I had felt her
once in the dark, but this was far better.  She had welcomed my
powerful masculine organ up inside her body, right between her
legs, forming a tube to connect us.  "I'm the luckiest pervert in
the whole world" I said.  She smiled. I could have come in
seconds, but I wanted to luxuriate in the experience. I pushed
insistently up inside her for maybe fifteen minutes, faster and
faster, grunting, more and more urgently, then I came with a big
"Aaaah!" and collapsed on her heavily.  She put her arms around
my back and patted and gave me a squeeze, but not many seconds
later she pushed me aside so she could breathe.  "That's more
what I expected."

"So are you all ready for sleeping?"  "Yup", she said.  We got
under the covers still naked, and I snuggled up to her back.  I
didn't fall asleep right away -- 10 wasn't my normal bed time! 
But I treasured my girl beside me, chest rising and falling with
each breath.  In the night we switched to our other sides, and I
felt her small but warm presence behind me, and felt her breath
gently tickle my back.

I was rudely awakened by a radio at 5:30.  Early gym practice. 
She was briefly disoriented to find me sharing her bed.  But she
got up showing no sign of discomfort at my seeing her naked.  She
proceeded to find the day's clothes and put them on
matter-of-factly.  I decided to go back to sleep, and let myself
out at 8am when I woke up again.

The third night I found myself licking her all over, and when she
didn't object licking her labia before I gave her another little
dollop of semen in ecstasy.  The fourth night when I went to her
labia I made a point of attending to her little clitoris.  She
definitely felt something stirring, and had an expression while
my penis was inside her that wasn't simply the polite approval
she had been giving so far.

I was in heaven making love to my darling Erin every night, and
she was not just lying back to take her medicine.  But she had a
different agenda.  Eight days after our first sweet little
virginity-taking in the dark, she hit a move she had never hit
before, and by ten she got solid on two others.  This experiment
was looking promising.

---------
Her parents got us a double bed and we became roommates.  I
should mention here that I kept hosting my daughter Kerry every
other weekend, and she and my ex-wife never had a hint of the new
flame in my life.  I never in my life had a sexual thought
towards Kerry.  She was my daughter, and that just felt totally
different.

Erin would come back from the shower with her towel around her
and promptly drop it to expose her nakedness.  I took to making
the bed, picking up her towel, her discarded clothes, her dirty
underwear -- mmmmmmm.  I helped her with homework.  I took to
massaging whatever in her poor, overworked body needed massaging,
either before or after sex.  She talked about her life and all
the things about her parents that annoyed her.  She naturally
talked a great deal about her gymnastics, but I got lost with the
technical details.  I stayed away from the gym to keep from
blowing her cover.  I got her to concentrate on the essence of
the challenges and the feelings rather than the specifics. 
During sex she came to watch me with a thoughtful smile as I was
mounted on her, thrusting away.  She squirmed a little too.  She
gave me a hug when she felt me have a big satisfying orgasm.  She
shyly said once that it made her feel special that her little
body could give me such pleasure.  One morning I was already
awake, and then she woke up too before the alarm.  I turned it
off before the radio went on.  "Would you mind if I ...?" I
asked, my hand going over her naked chest.  She gave a sleepy
smile and said "Sure, go ahead."  So I tentatively entered her
from the rear, and thrust a dozen times before ejaculating at the
end of one long deep thrust.  She seemed to like that more than I
would have thought.  We had sex again as usual that night.

One Sunday morning I awoke to find her playing with my penis. 
She knew me well enough to know that if I objected I would say
something.  As she played it got harder.  On a whim I asked if
she would like to see what it looked like when I spurted, but
this time without being inside her?  She said sure.  I had her
sit beside me with her legs wide apart -- she was a gymnast, so
they went out completely to the sides -- so I could look at her
lovely private parts just inches away.  And I gave myself a hand
job.  Maybe a minute.  The delay was that I really wanted to be
inside her.  But once my body was resigned to the idea of
ejaculating into the air, I got right to the point of no return
and said 'Look' just as the semen spurted out.  She smiled,
waiting for my hip thrusts to subside and my hand to stop.  She
gave an evil grin and said "Now we can put it where it goes!",
and taking one fingerful of goop from my chest put it up her
vagina.  She held her labia wide open, leaving the rest to me.  I
had goop on my hand which I got off with my other hand, and put
that inside her.  It took several swipes to get all the goop from
my chest and I slid my finger deep into her vagina with each one.
 I was getting to know Erin's little quirks of taste and whim,
and I liked her more and more.

One morning I woke up to find her face close to mine, smiling. 
She slowly moved forward and just barely touched lips.  I
responded, and we shared a minute of the tiniest, sweetest
kisses.  That removed my last doubts:  I was in love.  From the
look of it she was getting pretty attached to me too.

I got her to try it doggy style, and I was ecstatic to see her
narrow butt presented to me for mating, and I wasted no time
taking her up on the invitation.  She thought that was fun for
the novelty, but didn't care for if all that much. She still
asked to do it every week or so because she knew I loved it.  She
loved riding me, so we did that a couple times a week.  With her
gymnastically limber body she could go into just about any
position.  But mostly we did it missionary style, my sweet Erin
on her back, legs apart, as she offered herself up to me, and I
took her, possessed her, made her body mine, filled what was for
the moment my vagina with my very own pulsing penis and filled it
in turn with the cream of life, the cream of creation -- the
cream of gymnastic success.

She got better in the gym.  She frequently traveled away on day
trips for meets, but then she made the nationals, where she would
be away two days.  I wished her luck and said goodbye.  She did
poorly, and said on her return that she missed me, and it was
unclear how much it was my semen she missed and how much it was
my familiar company.  Whichever it was, we thought of a cover for
how to handle this in the future.  Ordinarily gymnasts doubled up
in hotel rooms, but she would stay in a suite with her parents,
feigning a medical necessity.  I would play the part of a doctor
for her, but unbeknownst to those outside the family I never got
around to leaving her suite at night, of course.  We played
doctor.  My penis so yearned for her innards it nearly played
surgeon.

She was looking for every edge she could get.  We didn't know
that semen was the key to the gymnastic success, but it was
certainly the prime suspect.  Naturally my semen would drip out
of her after intercourse.  Now she started collecting the drips
with her finger and putting them in her mouth, then on her upper
lip, in case breathing in the essence of semen would help.  From
the beginning I would often wake up in the middle of the night
desiring her, but controlled myself to let my little angel sleep.
 Now she encouraged me to poke her and give her spurts of semen
any time I wanted.  I would snuggle up to her from the rear, lift
her leg a little, and slide in.  She might not really wake up,
but I would give a series of gentle, quick thrusts and in ecstasy
deliver safely up into her vagina more of the fluid she craved. 
Or if she was on her back I would part her sleepy legs and inject
her that way.  In the week before the next nationals we were
making love once before sleep and once in the morning, and I was
doing it to her in a more one-sided fashion maybe twice each
night.  When we got to the city, her father with some
embarrassment gave me a little vial of semen and said it was from
him, and if I thought it could help to have even more...  I
thanked him, but flushed it away.  Erin was mine alone.

As the nationals began, we thought maybe an uninterrupted night's
sleep would be more important for her, so we only did it before
going to sleep.  She did OK that day, but not great.  So the next
night I was giving her every drop I had.  Every drip from her
vagina went on her upper lip or in her mouth.  She became junior
national champion.

--------
She pulled a hamstring and had to stop training for at least six
months.  Her parents thanked me and said they all owed me a
tremendous debt of gratitude.  I said goodbye to Erin and moved
back to my lonely quarters.  I had known this would happen and
worked on framing it as a magical interlude that was now over --
instead of losing Erin making me feel so lonely and empty inside.

But Erin didn't adjust so well either.  She didn't feel like
doing her physical therapy or schoolwork.  Her parents suggested
we could talk on the phone or I could come over for conversation.
 That made her miss me even more.  She found her way to my
apartment, and I can still see her on my doorstep -- pleading,
vulnerable, gorgeous.  I couldn't resist.  The minute she came
through the door we headed straight to my bed, throwing clothes
off as we went.  She begged me to get myself inside her and
ejaculate just as soon as I could.  I happily complied.  We
rested fifteen minutes and then did it again, and again after an
hour.  She thought maybe she could see me on the sly, but I
wasn't willing to go behind her parents' back.  So I went with
her to lend her support while she told them she was in love with
me and needed me.  They relented more easily than Erin had
thought, though I wasn't so surprised.  By analogy, it might be
damaging to marry off your daughter at age nine, but it was
inflicting another serious round of damage to make her get
divorced when she was eleven if she loved her husband.

She no longer needed my sexual attentions for her own purposes,
so any sex that happened now was just out of habit and for my
pleasure.  She found that she could tell me she wasn't interested
in sex and I would respect her wishes and not pressure her.  But
as soon as she found she had that choice she had me on my back
impaling herself on me and moving up and down in the rhythm I
liked best, watching intently as she gave me a magnificent
orgasm.

Later that year she recovered from her injury and started
training again in earnest.  She also started going through
puberty.  After consultations we decided an IUD was the best
thing, and had the insertion done in the Bahamas, in a
nondescript room in a nondescript medical building.  I adored
getting to watch her develop little by little, and cherished the
sex with her body at each delicious moment of development.  She
developed a little fine silky pubic hair to rub against my mat,
then a few full-fledged hairs, then more.  I watched slowly
increasing jiggles from her breasts as she rode me.  Her sexual
appetites grew, slowly at first and then faster.  She started
hungering for the inherent genital pleasure of the experience. 
She had her first orgasm with the patient loving work of my
tongue, and I never thought my adolescent baby could be as
thankful as she was then.  Soon she started having orgasms now
and then when we had intercourse, and then could have one almost
any time she wanted.  She usually wouldn't bother more than once
a day, happy the other two or three times with the closeness,
with making me happy, and with the magic semen I gave her.

There was just no way I could sleep with her at the world
championships.  She desperately wanted to, but we grown-ups got
her to trust our conclusion that we would very likely be
discovered, with disastrous consequences all around.  I could
stay in the same hotel and slip her a sample of my fresh semen to
mix with the frozen that I had been stashing away for the
occasion.  And she could at various times in the night put some
up inside herself with a plunger, wipe more over her face and in
her mouth.  She won the gold on uneven bars, but was disappointed
with a bronze in all-around.  We occasionally wondered in later
years whether sleeping with me during those nights would have
made the difference.

Later that year she wrenched her knee, tearing cartilage. 
Returning to competitive gymnastics would have been a long road,
required a tolerance for pain and a great deal of hard work.  But
she no longer had the fierce competitive drive that she had in
the past.  She retired from competitive gymnastics, but she kept
me -- for the time being.  Her sex drive reached its peak.  She
didn't need the semen any more, but she wanted me pumping her
full of it three times a day, and she got it.  On her back.  From
the rear.  As she straddled me.  And she was getting enough
gentle rubs, tugs, pushes, licks on her clitoris that now she was
having at least one orgasm every time.

But at the end of high school she decided we needed to break up,
since she was going to college and needed to enjoy the freedom
all the other kids her age had -- to make new friends, to date,
to experiment.  I succeeded in hiding the depth of my
devastation.  She knew I was disappointed, and she was very sad
too.  I tried moving on with my life, but it was hard.

In the fall of her sophomore year Erin met a boy and they started
going out.  She even slept with him a half dozen times.  But she
realized that even though she was fond of him and fond him hot
and he was ideal by objective criteria, it was not going
anywhere.  She missed me too much.  She had had enough freedom. 
Most girls got to be single and free for years, and Erin was
going to give that up.  But then Erin had been national
gymnastics champion, and most girls didn't get to do that.  Most
girls didn't have an understanding friend to snuggle with every
night, and didn't get to satisfy all of their sexual urges from
the instant they started having them.  And, I blush a little to
say, most girls never got to have a lover like me.

We got secretly engaged.  She came to see me many weekends -- I
never went to campus, at least not as her boyfriend.  We were
married in a small private ceremony one year after her college
graduation, and have been together since.  I am 30 years her
senior.  I was ready to retire just as she was finishing med
school, so I stayed home to raise our two sons and two daughters,
and got to experience four-fold the stages of Kerry's childhood I
missed.  I was never attracted to any of them, just as I had
never been to Kerry.  As to their friends, well, I could tell
that the pedophilic inclinations were still there, but they
stayed dormant, and I didn't even surreptitiously glance at their
crotches, or at least not very often.  I had my own Erin, love of
my life.


==================================================================

I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.

 		 	   		  
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