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Be Careful How You Play

Jamie Stroud

This new group of middle-school girls started taking summer camp classes at my gym. They all walked by me as I was training and they were very impressed with my skills (and probably my body too). They cheered for me as I performed skill after skill. Another coach snickered to me, saying that they all have a crush on me but it's too bad that they're too young for me... or so she thought. Taylor, a 12 year old cutie, was the most wild for me. Over the next few weeks, every time she saw me she'd ask if I remembered her name, and she'd get ecstatic when I'd say it.

Weeks went by of our small talk and subtle flirtation, until it came to be the last day of summer camp. Taylor came up to me and told me she'd be sad to not see me anymore. I confided the same sentiment. She asked for my number. "You're way cute! ...But I'm not sure how ethical it'd be for a coach and a student to be friends outside of work." I sighed. She could probably detect my immediate regret, so she pleaded, knowing she could win me over. I pulled out my business card and told her I only give that to people who want private lessons, emphasizing that it's strictly for business purposes, yet confident that she could read between the lines. Sure enough, she called me. She told me she wanted to hang out with me. I asked if her parents knew she was calling me. She assured me they had no idea she even had my number. "Good, keep it that way." I said nervously. "There's a park near where I live," I began, then explained she could tell her parents she's meeting a friend there but to make sure they don't tag along. So I went to the park and engaged in some exercises, so as to not look suspicious. Eventually she showed up by herself. We hugged and we both seemed excited to see each other outside the gym.

We played at the park for a bit then I told her my parents are gone so we could hang out in my room if she wanted, and so we did. I showed her around briefly, then I whispered, "So we're alone in my room, what should we do now?" She blushed as she responded, "I don't know," but I could sense sexual arousal behind her shy demeanor. I asked her if she's ever had a lap dance. She hadn't. I put on Tiffany - I Think We're Alone Now. I made some small talk as I danced for her, and I took her nervous hands and put them on my body so she could feel my ripped abs and protruding glutes. Once I was topless, I was having her squeeze my manchest, then we started making out as the song played on repeat. She could feel my erection pressing against her legs and she moaned as it did. I never wanted this to end. Then I heard people entering into the house. I assumed it was my parents coming back early. Not a big deal, I could just say she was a friend... but then the cops came into my room. "I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around. I think we're alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound." I fell to the floor and everything faded to black. I eventually woke up but part of me wishes I didn't. I might have preferred that my life ended on a high note.


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