I'm a good man. Never do anything wrong. Live by a simple code: do what's right. I go to church five times a year. Christmas, Easter, the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving and the day my wife died.
But when Solar asked me to train her for the Olympics, I had to take pause and think about my moral stance on such a thing. You see, Solar is just eighteen to my forty two and forty two year old men don't often get a chance to be the personal trainer of Olympic gymnastic hopefuls. Well, they don't get the chance to train them in sex, that is. Therein lay the crux of my moral dilemma. Was it right?
Solar came to ask me to do this thing early last summer after she finished her freshman year at UCLA. Came to my house one fine afternoon day in June, sun shiny, birds chirping, blue sky forever, summer hanging in the wings waiting to make its entrance. Just rang the bell and there she was, a vision of youth and health and beauty and as vibrant as a shock of electricity. I invited her in.
"Mr. Smith, I know you're a good man," she said after saying hellos and getting settled. She was kind of perched all bunched up on the couch, "and you're a personal trainer." Well, I work out of my home as a financial consultant, but I'd spent the last few years learning to be a trainer to help my wife stay in good shape despite her condition. She wasted away and died anyway. That's why I go to church.
"What you did for your wife was beyond sweet, it was just plain good," she smiled at me, and it was a smile to light up a room, even her eyes smiled. She was really holding her self tight, her legs together, arms tucked in, hands fluttering around her knees, very nervous. Clad in short shorts that showed off her just about perfect legs and a simple t shirt that accentuated her fine, firm breasts. The shirt said, "I'm gonna get there." I didn't doubt that. I sat back and enjoyed the sweetness of her unexpected visit, coming to brightening up my life and I waited patiently for her to get to the point. She presently did.
"See, the thing is, there's a part of my training program to reach the Olympics that I consider just as important as my gymnastics program. But it isn't something they can teach me at the gym," she said, kind of nodding her head. Then she hesitated, fiddled with her fingers, looked at the carpet. "And," she sighed, tried to start again, made a funny face, then she took a deep breath and continued, "Okay, I fully expect you to say, no, that it's not something you can do."
"Just ask, Solar," I said, very soft, trying to encourage her to open up. Besides I was damned curious at this point.
There was a pregnant pause here. I admit to feeling somewhat apprehensive.
"I want you to train me in sex."
She had my full attention now.
"I know, I know, it's, like, pretty weird, but hear me out, okay?" she blurted out before I could respond. She still couldn't look at me and continued to address the carpet. She was blushing, a red tint rose up from her chest and to her cheeks. It was beyond cute.
She continued blurting, just trying to get it all out. "If I'm going to go all the way to the top of my sport and succeed enough to enter the Olympics in 2020. If I'm going to win a medal, well, everything has to fall in place. Even sex."
I cleared my throat, adjusted my twitching member inside my jeans.
She still stared at the carpet and continued, "I need a simple, uncomplicated, yet completely full and satisfying sex life or it's just going to be hell on me. I've seen other girls crash and burn on this." I should mention that Solar is about as cute as cute gets, with a dash of really beautiful thrown in. And she has a body that, well, has been in physical training since she was seven. Well formed, indeed, just looking at her walk around made my mouth water.
"If I go the usual route, get a boyfriend, date, make a commitment, then I risk all the complications and drama that go with it. Oh heck, I'm gone most weekends and work out five days and three nights a week."
"So, I thought that maybe you, could, like, be my personal trainer. In sex. Just sort of, you know, square that part of my life away for awhile. Fill in a lot of the unknowns and get me up to speed. I'm on birth control. Of course, no way I can afford to get pregnant. But I got to do something, so..."
She finally looked up at me with the question burning in her emerald eyes.
"Solar..." I began, hoping to dissuade her. I'm too old for her. It's just not right. I'm her older neighbor. She should find some nice young man, do her gymnastic thing for awhile, then get married, eventually have kids.
"Wait," Solar interrupted my halting attempt to explain my reservations. "Wait. Let me see if I can help you make this decision.
She stood up from the couch, paused a moment, watching my eyes, then she slowly removed her clothes, one item at a time. Shirt pulled over her head, showing off her flat hard tummy, shorts wiggled off over a magnificent ass, then unsnapped her bra and let her two beauties, fresh and full, stand free, then she pulled her panties down to reveal a hairless pussy and finally stood before me jaybird naked.
Now, it had been a long time since I'd seen a woman in all her naked glory. And none quite so glorious as Solar. And it had been maybe two years since I'd last lain with my wife, maybe three since it had last been good with us. This was turning out to be the best day I'd had in probably a decade.
A soft patina of golden tan covered her well toned body except where the outline of her bikini bottoms and top had left her white skin the color of Italian marble. Her very prominent nipples looked so hard they must have hurt. Her blond tresses she kept in a short pony tail. Her vagina was, as mentioned, shaved bald. Her legs and ass were world class, amazing examples of what years of muscle training and toning can do to for a female body. Her stomach was flat and ripped slightly. She's small, stands about five three to my six feet. And her pussy lips were glistening. She was extremely nervous.
It took a moment to think of something to say. "Do the pirouette thing you do before you do your routine," I said, and my voice was very deep, as though the words were coming from someplace around my balls. Solar smiled, and, with a flourish of style and confidence - she was doing something she was good at - she lifted one arm, curling her hand delicately, then placed a bent leg in front of her and twirled around expertly, her head held proud and high, her forward foot arched downward. Done naked, seeing her tush and tits spin around there in my living room, her young pussy peeking out from between her slightly spread legs, was a pleasure and vision I'll carry to my grave.
I offered a little prayer of apology to the saints and took a deep breath.
"Tell me more about what is sexual training."
Solar sat back down and this time her eyes stayed locked on me, filled with girlish enthusiasm. She explained that she just wanted to experience free, uncomplicated sex and learn what it was like to have a healthy, full expression of her sexuality. Her main focus in life was her rigorous training regimen and that didn't leave time for dating or developing a satisfying relationship with a guy her age. And if she just ignored it all she might give in to all the horny trainers at the gym who seemed to want to screw her all the time. And she'd seen how that had totally ruined other girls chances for advancing in the sport. Would I? Please? Please? Oh please, would I? She had openings in her schedule tomorrow in the afternoon and two other days of every week that summer. It was important her parents didn't know, but they both worked and wouldn't be at home to see her come to my house. We both lived at the end of a dead end and she could pop over unseen. Would I?
I nodded and she squealed like a teenager. "We'll start," I said, "with getting comfortable being naked," I said, "come for lunch tomorrow."
The next day she showed up exactly on time. I had prepared a light lunch, nutritious, delicious. So, as planned, we both got naked. She was nervous, and I gotta admit, so was I. I keep myself in good shape, but hey, I haven't had a naked lunch in...too long. I mean, who has, right?
Well, that's all we did for the next week and a half, ate lunch without a stitch of clothing on. After, we'd skinny dip in my pool, then she'd get dressed and be back home before her parents got home.
It gave her a chance to see me, all of me. And as she got more comfortable, she began sashaying around, becoming more flirtatious, feeling free to display her considerable charms openly.
At the end of the second week, the last day before the weekend, as we sat on the chaise lounges in the sun, I asked her to show me her pussy.
"What do you do to pleasure yourself?" I asked her softly.
She opened her legs and put her fingers on her labials, as soft and supple as rose petals, traced the delicate slit and pulled back the flesh hood covering her clitoris. She began to stroke it slowly, catching it between two fingers and rubbing up and down. Then she delved a finger inside her vagina, bringing it out wet and her pussy sort of gurgled a bit with fluid.
My erection began rising. Her eyes locked on the hard flesh standing so red and solid in the afternoon sun. She continued to massage her clit and more juice leaked from her slit.
"I'm going to have a taste," I whispered, my voice far more husky than normal. I moved over to her chair and sat at the end, then dropped my head down to her pussy. A soft down of fir was beginning to grow there and the folds of flesh were now glistening with shiny liquid. Her thighs quivered slightly. I kissed them, touching my tongue to wet the dry skin. She shuddered.
