The Gymnast Read online

  The Gymnast

  By: Mackenzie Young

  This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Mackenzie Young

  All rights reserved.

  For the passionate, who feel let down by life’s rules and restrictions.

  Preface

  The Gymnast is a story about emerging adults dealing with sexuality and life changes. There are explicit scenes with sexual content, body parts, fluids and all that goes with being young, taking risks and being alive.

  If you are offended and grossed out by such subject matter, I suggest you stop reading right now. I don't want to waste your time.

  This story does not stop at, “and they kissed” followed by a fade to black. Often, what happens after the fade to black is the most interesting part.

  Keeping sexuality in the darkness is dishonest, inauthentic and boring.

  Still with me?

  Onward…

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Preface

  Chapter One - Cody

  Chapter Two - Ethan

  Chapter Three - Jayden

  Chapter Four - Cody II

  Chapter Five - Matthew

  Chapter Six - Jayden II

  Chapter Seven - Summer

  Chapter Eight - Goodbye

  To Be Continued

  Afterword

  CHAPTER ONE

  Cody

  AVERY TURNER KNEW the end of her dream was getting closer.

  After all, making the national team was more difficult than winning an Olympic medal, and she certainly wasn’t getting any younger. 18 was young in most areas of life, but in the world of gymnastics, it was middle age.

  At 5’1” and 103 pounds, her body was nearly perfect for gymnastics. She had light brown hair which, after a summer of sun, turned sandy blonde. She kept it up in a ponytail most of the time, or a small bun. Her skin was too pale for her liking, but it was soft and smooth, not a blemish to be seen anywhere. The only exception was a small brown spot on her right shoulder that guys liked to comment on when they were kissing her neck.

  Avery had been doing gymnastics since she was six. Her mother Laura was the one that always pushed her, while her father David was more relaxed. There were so many times when she wanted to quit. She never got to hang out with her friends, didn’t go to many parties. It was all school and gymnastics.

  All the effort and sacrifice had paid off; Avery became an elite gymnast soon after her 16th birthday. She was near the top of her team in beam, she owned it. She excelled on floor and uneven bars too.

  Vault was the one event she really struggled with, it kept her up at night. A severe landing a year ago could have ended her career. She noticed a stabbing pain in her back and the doctors determined she had spondylolysis, a stress fracture of a part of the bone in the lumbar spine. She had to wear a back brace for several months following, it hurt to even bend over.

  She recovered and won medals in several regional meets. In spite of all her success, time was running out. It was too late to make the national team and the Olympics were out of the question.

  She had a big 18th birthday bash at the gym with all her teammates and another smaller gathering at home with her family and a couple of close friends, Sophia and Isabella. She had a good time and laughed a lot, posting a lot of pictures.

  But when everyone had gone home, Avery was lonely. She’d never really had a steady boyfriend. Normally it didn’t bother her, but for some reason, hitting the milestone of 18 screamed at her in big red neon letters. The pressure to acknowledge her career was over and finally call it quits was looming. Her mom was having a harder time than Avery dealing with the end of gymnastics; Laura had invested as much time as Avery, driving her to practices and meets—not to mention the money, it wasn’t cheap trying to compete at a high level.

  After the summer it would be college and finding a real job; Avery was not looking forward to this. Gymnastics was her life and it would be very difficult to give up.

  Avery’s alarm had gone off early; it was Saturday, and her coaches wanted her to be in the gym by 7 a.m. for vault day.

  In the shower, with the warm water running down her small, compact body, she visualized her run up to the vault. Avery imagined her perfectly timed Yurchenko double twist, with a round-off onto the springboard, a back handspring onto the horse, and a double twisting flip off.

  Her body felt good today. Her hands were calloused from her time on the uneven bars yesterday, but her legs were limber and her back didn’t seem to be giving her any trouble.

  She drove herself to the gym and stopped for a large coffee on the way. She would have to pee more often throughout the day, but Avery liked the extra energy boost it gave her.

  The Austin, Texas sunrise was in her eyes on the way to the gym, her sunglasses provided relief.

  She was the first one to arrive; even her coaches weren’t here. Just Ms. Anderson, who had arrived a few minutes before Avery to open the doors.

  Alone in the locker room, she set her gym bag down and sat on the bench. She took off her shoes and socks and rubbed her feet for a moment. She always thought they were a bit too big, but she was only a size 6.

  Avery stood up and took off her jeans and shirt. She had put on her leotard, high-cut panties and dance comfort fit bra at home. But she forgot to put on her athletic protective cup so she grabbed it out of her bag; she took her leo off so she could strap the clear shoehorn-shaped device to her crotch.

  She checked the mirror.

  Camel toe crisis averted.

  Her leotard was red with blue flames on the front, she slid it on and made sure nothing was showing.

  Avery knew she was pretty, everybody told her so. Boys started eying her up when she was thirteen, but knowing she was pretty and feeling pretty were two different things. Feeling pretty was emotional; it was about feeling confident, feeling wanted, feeling desired. She desperately wanted someone to lust after her.

  She gathered up her street clothes, stuffed them into her bag and put it in her locker. By now the gym was filling up with the junior gymnasts and judging by the noise, the boys were here too.

  Isabella and Sophia arrived as Avery was leaving the locker room.

  “You’re here early,” Isabella said.

  “Gotta work on vault,” Avery said.

  They exchanged brief hugs.

  “Cody just showed up.” Sophia rolled her eyes.

  “Cody’s an ass,” Isabella added.

  “I should start practicing.” The last thing Avery needed today was a distracting conversation about some stupid boy.

  “Okay. Later,” Isabella said.

  Sophia walked with Isabella into the locker room and Avery made her way over to the vault.

  She adjusted the mats around the springboard and went to the starting position to do some stretching. She could feel Cody looking in her direction. She kept her gaze away from him.

  The whole sordid history of Avery and Cody began last summer. They had several weeks off between school and training. It had begun innocently enough; they went to a movie, shared a bag of popcorn and their hands touched a few times—that was it.

  Cody was an okay gymnast, and somewhat good-looking. He was persistent, however, and didn’t take no for an answer. When Avery was non-committal about hooking up again, he kept at it. He would always tease her about her mistakes at the gym and offer to give her massages. She rebuffed, refused and ignored. He backed off for a while but when Avery found out she wasn’t going to make nationals for a second summer in a row and was feeling particularly vulnerable and weak, he saw his opening.

  Now, one year later, Avery wished she would have declined his offer, but she knew she couldn’t turn back the clock.

  She ran toward the vault gaining speed and hit the springboard perfectly—Avery launched into the air.

  Several hours later, Avery was home.

  The vault practice had gone well; her coach, Mike Henderson, complimented her on the solid landings and the symmetrical lines. She was able to keep her legs together and her arms and knees straight for most of the vaults. She had a small hop on the landing, but nothing serious.

  Avery closed the door to the bathroom and took off her shirt and pants.

  She had worn her leotard home underneath, so she slipped it off and glanced at herself in the mirror. She ran her hands down her chest between her breasts. Her nipples were so hard they almost hurt, and she knew why. It had been a rigorous practice and she often got horny once it was done—lots of physical exertion and elevated heart rate.

  She touched her left breast with her fingers, a shiver went down her body. She walked over to the shower and turned it on, the hot water kicked up a cloud of steam.

  Avery had noticed Cody looking at her several times throughout the practice, but he never did come over to talk to her. She was mad at him, but somehow having him ignore her was worse. She wanted him to talk to her, so she could tell him to get lost, but he stayed on his side of the gym the whole time.

  Before Cody, Avery had only slept with one guy, when she was 15; his name was Aiden. He was sweet, but he didn’t really know what he was doing; he was awkward and never spent much time on foreplay and she’d never orgasmed with him.

  Sex with Cody was so much better and that’s what made it so difficult, she missed him—her bod
y missed him.

  She made sure the bathroom door was locked and got into the shower. The water caressed her firm body, dripping down her flat stomach and firm little butt all the way to her feet. Her hair was wet; she slicked it back to keep it out of her eyes.

  Avery could feel the increasing warmth in her mid-section, and it wasn’t just the hot water.

  Her thoughts drifted back to that tough day at the gym when she finally gave in to him…

  “You’re better than those girls, you just have to show it,” Cody said.

  Avery sat on the mat crying.

  “I’ve seen you at your best, and you can beat them.”

  Avery didn’t want him to see her crying, but she guessed he could tell anyway. “Thanks,” was all she could muster.

  Cody sat down beside her and put his arm around her.

  She was too weak to resist; she rested her head on his shoulder. “It sucks. All that work—I almost had enough points from beam—but the stupid vault landing, I took that extra step to the side.”

  “You’ll get another chance.”

  “Yeah, but I need to do it in the next year or my parents are going to pressure me to start applying at colleges and quit gymnastics.”

  “Don’t worry about that now. Just focus on what you need to do to improve.”

  Avery remembered being surprised at how lucid and insightful Cody sounded that day—normally, he was a dolt.

  He had short brown hair and, being that he was a gymnast, a strong muscular body. He had no illusions that he would ever go much past the regional level and he didn’t mind. Avery actually admired that about him; maybe that’s why he was so relaxed about things, he just didn’t care about making the national team.

  His arm felt good on her shoulder. He smelled good too, he had already showered and was in jeans and a white T-shirt.

  Cody had big hands and forearms, something Avery had noticed before, but was really aware of now that they were so close.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Cody stood up and reached his hand out to her.

  Avery took it and he pulled her up forcefully.

  She was standing right next to him now, still in her leotard.

  “We should go for a drive. I know a good place.”

  Later, Cody picked her up and they drove out to Lake Austin where they could pull right up to the water. He drove his dad’s muscle car that rumbled when he hit the gas; Avery could feel the vibrations right up her legs, it was not an unpleasant feeling.

  They sat in the front seat and talked.

  “So, why are you so cut off from everyone,” Cody said.

  “What do you mean?” Avery looked out the passenger window.

  “You keep everyone away. People call you Ice Queen.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not going to say, it’s just that, you need to lighten up and relax—you’re too tense.”

  “I appreciate the psych evaluation, but I don’t really need advice from you on how to behave.” Avery was one remark away from demanding to be taken home, this was not fun.

  “Hey, don’t take it personally.”

  “Fuck you, Cody. You lecture me about how I act? What people call me behind my back? And then tell me it’s nothing personal?”

  “This is what I like! Fired up Avery, unhinged. Now we’re getting somewhere. I think this is why you have trouble at nationals. You’re holding so much in and when the time comes, it’s too much pressure—you need to cut loose.” Cody really wasn’t going to stop talking.

  Maybe he had a point.

  She turned to him. “I have to train, I have school—maybe there’s no more room in my life.”

  “But all the shit you carry around with you, it gets in your subconscious or whatever and you end up messing up. If you go in with a clear head and more relaxed, you’ll do better.”

  “Thanks, coach.”

  “No, listen, you can do it. I’ve seen you do floor and uneven bars perfectly. Beam is no problem for you, but so many girls fall or fuck up. It’s just vault that gives you trouble. I’m saying, you’ve done all the training you can do, so it’s not a technical problem, it’s mental. When was the last time you had fun?” Cody had moved closer to her.

  “I have fun.”

  “I mean really had fun—spontaneous, outrageous fun?”

  “All the time.” Avery scowled.

  “You look miserable.”

  “What should I do for fun?”

  Cody smiled, and before she could even put up an arm or hand to protest, he kissed her. His tongue swirled around hers, his left arm went around her neck. He touched the sensitive spot right underneath her ear that sent shivers down her back.

  After ten seconds or so, she pulled away. “So, this is your idea of fun? One kiss from you and all my vault troubles go away?”

  Avery feigned outrage, but her voice betrayed her, her body betrayed her. Her mind screamed at her to tell Cody to fuck off, but her body wanted more—it wanted Cody. She had no idea which impulse would win out.

  “Okay, we don’t have to make out. I thought you wanted to.” He put his hand on the keys in the ignition switch.

  He was about to start the car when Avery spoke. “It’s not you, Cody. I know I’m a bitch sometimes. I have to be, you know? All the girls I’m competing with, they’re ready to pounce on any weakness.”

  “But you can’t do it alone. I can be your friend, if you’ll just let me. We don’t even have to tell anyone at the gym, I know what the gossip is like.”

  Avery was confused, but the longer she sat there, the stronger the urge to kiss Cody. Any fear she had about the risk of being found out was just a whisper now. Cody’s body next to her was a powerful force, pulling her in. She could struggle all she wanted, but it was easier to give in. She felt weak, the longing to be closer to him pulsated with every heartbeat; her breath was rapid, and she could feel her cheeks turning red.

  Cody started the car and was about put it in gear.

  The next thing Avery knew, she had put her hand on Cody’s right arm and slowly worked her fingers towards the ignition. Her hand on his, she turned the car off.

  He turned to her, nothing more needed to be said.

  She was on him, kissing him. She used her flexibility to wedge herself between the steering wheel and his thick chest.

  His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her even closer.

  She could feel him through his jeans growing larger, he was rock hard now.

  They kissed on the lips; their tongues danced inside each other’s mouth.

  Cody broke away and kissed Avery’s neck.

  She loved that so much, her whole body shivered, her panties were already soaked through…

  Avery had been in the shower for ten minutes now, the whole bathroom was fogged up.

  She took a step back and let the spray from the shower hit her vagina, it tingled. She could feel herself getting wet. She began caressing her lips, spreading them slightly to find her clit. She touched it and her stomach contracted.

  She moaned; her knees buckled slightly.

  Thinking about her first time with Cody was almost as good as when it happened.

  Avery loved masturbating; it was better than sex a lot of the time. She had a vibrator, but it made noise and she could only use it when her parents were out. The shower was perfect, because you could lock the door and the noise drowned out any moaning—besides, she had perfected the silent orgasm.

  She was not silent that day last year in the car with Cody.

  Far from it…

  Cody spun her around and had her on her back with her head bumping against the passenger door. Thanks to the car’s classic bench seating she was able to lay back completely.

  Cody was still sitting up and took off his jacket and shirt.

  Although his body was gorgeous, Avery didn’t think his face was that good looking. His features were a bit off center, his mouth a little crooked.

  But his body was just fine; he didn’t have the most defined six pack abs ever, but his chest and pecks were nice. His arms were big and his hands…well the hands were the thing Avery noticed when she had met him; they were big, strong and calloused from gymnastics. Knowing they were rough turned her on even more. She had always wondered what it would be like having him lift her, hold her or pin her down—now she was getting her chance.