Her Coach's Love- A Love Story Between Coach and Gymnast [Open For 1 Male]

lizzy1228

Literotica Guru
Joined
Aug 23, 2005
Posts
861
Hey Everyone. So I came up with this idea while I was channel surfing the other night and I saw that ABC Family show about gymnasts. It (i.e. the rather attractive coach) got me thinking about how interesting a relationship between an athlete and their coach could be.

So my basic idea for a storyline is as follows: Anna Scott is an 18 year old Olympic hopeful. She's been training and competing in elite gymnastics since she was 7 years old. Alex Bellov is a 26 year old former male gymnast- an Olympic gold medalist- who had to turn to coaching after a knee injury put him in early retirement. He just started coaching at Anna's gym about six months ago.

He and Anna have a special relationship- one of mutual respect and particular understanding- but it has become much more strained since their romantic feelings have begun to develop. Alex feels incredibly guilty and hates himself for thinking of a young girl in his care in such an inappropriate way. He's resolved to using his incredible self control and suffering in silence. Anna just feels guilty and somewhat silly for wanting something so impossible.




So, basic outline: Alex's feelings have been getting stronger and stronger and he's finding it nearly impossible to hide them from Anna. He's been avoiding her and when they do interact he's always cold and anxious to get away. Anna interprets this as him being angry with her and no longer wanting to coach her. This, in turn, makes her angry and she breaks into the gym one night to blow off steam, and Alex walks in on her. While alone, he almost kisses her, but ends up blowing her off, which only makes her more angry. The next night she sneaks into a bar and runs into Alex. Events progress from there.


Anna Scott, 18, Olympic Gymnast
5"3, 100lbs, very small and toned
Fair skin, long, curly brunette hair, big midnight blue eyes
Very driven, independent, and intelligent. Can be laid back, "saucy" sense of humor. Innocent.

Alex Bellov, 26, Coach, former Olympic Gold Medalist
6"1, 180lbs, athletic and very toned
Lightly tanned skin, short brown hair, dark brown eyes
Very principled, kind, and supportive. Hard on himself. Hard on his gymnasts.


Woo. Did ya get all that? PM me if you're interested. I want someone who uses longer posts (obviously) and is as devoted to the romance and plot development as the sex scenes.


And here we go:



Anna stood when her arms crossed on top of the balance beam. Her clenched jaw and quickly bouncing foot belied her frustration. She'd been working on her beam routine for the last two hours and Alex hadn't spoken one word to her. He'd been spending less and less time working with her lately and it was really starting to make her angry. She'd come to rely on him in the past six months and now she felt his absence like a slap in the face.

She glanced up at his office and saw him hunched over a pile of paperwork. He hated paperwork and she knew it; he could easily pass it off to the gym manager and only did it when he had absolutely nothing better to do. Like his JOB? she thought bitterly to herself.

Well, if he wouldn't train her, she would have to do it herself. She turned to face the beam and braced herself for her routine. She quickly threw herself into a series of handsprings, ariels, and walkovers, landing each move with precision. She finished the routine with two full somersaults in and air and a perfectly stuck landing. Slightly out of breath with flushed cheeks, she glanced up at Alex's office, only to see him staring down at her, a slightly wistful expression on his face. They locked eyes for a moment, both seemingly paralyzed, before Anna got flustered and dropped her eyes, turning to grab her towel and water bottle.




PM me if you're interested in playing Alex!
 
Alex Bellov, 26, Coach, former Olympic Gold Medalist
6"1, 180lbs, athletic and very toned
Lightly tanned skin, short brown hair, dark brown eyes
Very principled, kind, and supportive. Hard on himself. Hard on his gymnasts.


It had been a mistake.

Life had been so much simplier back then, before he got what some people had called a "handycap". How little they knew. The bussniess side of things was much harder and more time consuming then what he was used to. Yet, he put himself into all of it, just the same.

Fire Preinspection sheet, oh goody. He set it down for a moment, trying to refocus his mind, when all of a sudden that old rush, the thrill of DOING, came back onto him. Or, at least, that's what he liked to call it.

His pupil, Anna, had just preformed her routine, flawlessly. It reminded him of his "young" days, although he was anything but old, back on the mat, training for the Quebec City Olympics. It was almost, divine the way she could will her body around, and he missed that.

Then came the mistake. He had looked at her.

He noticed the change almost immedatly; skin flushed, tunnel vision, biting down on his tounge to still the sudden urge to scream. Although he could guess what it was, he had never actually felt it before about a months ago. He absoulutly HATED most woman, with their superior air even though they where such paracites, but Anna was, differnt. To say he hated her would to be saying he had hated his past. They met gazes for what felt like an eternity before he finnaly drew himself back in.

Then he decided a trip to the restroom would do him good.

He scooted out of his chair and into the hailway, still favoring the knee that never quite healed, constantly dabbing away a nervious sweat. So preoccupied he was with both figures and emotions that he diden't notice that somebody was coming right at him, only noticing when she plopped onto the floor after tripping over his leg.

"Oh," he paused, holding down a helping hand. "Sorry mis."
 
Anna let out a small, startled "Ah!" as she felt herself pitched forward and started falling toward the floor. She'd let her mind wander as she made her way from the beam over to her gym bag, something it was doing more and more of lately. She was picturing herself learning the new tricks she wanted to add to her routines, with Alex guiding her every step of the way. She was rarely alone in her daydreams anymore, as she always had been. Alex was almost always there, even if he was just standing silently and watching her. This had happened so naturally Anna barely even recognized the change, but in the back of her mind she knew she shouldn't be thinking of her coach this much, or feeling this reliant on him. She had to get her act together.

She let out a small groan as she hit the floor. So much for control and grace she thought critically to herself.

"You're off your game," whispered a small voice in her head.

She shut the thought down quickly and rolled herself up into a sitting position, hearing "Oh, sorry, miss," as she did so and coming face to face with a large, callous roughed hand.

Damn it, Damn it, Damn it." She cursed her luck and bit her lip before taking her coach's hand and letting him pull her to her feet. When they were on equal footing she let her gaze rake over him- almost drinking him in- and raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to break their two week silence.
 
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Great.

Alex just stood there, eyes agape, as he noticed exactly who had tripped over him. Anna was lying there, in all her gordious glory, dripping with sweat. "Ahhhh," he stuttered overhimself, although still in a very collected manner. "Yo."

Yo? This is the girl he had been working with for months, who was who she was today due almost entirly to him, and all he could say was Yo? He looked back over at a drinking fountion and decided he'd had far too much coffee today.

"Sorry about that," he gripped onto her arm and pulled her back up, catching a slight glimpse of things he probebly shoulden't have in the process. " Lots of things to do lately." he coulden't help but avoid looking right above her eyes, at the base of the forehead.

She really needed a trim.

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed out the upper part of his pants before asking "So, how have things been on the equiptment latly?"
 
Anna's arm tingled where Alex had gripped her, and she suddenly became very aware of the fact that she was only wearing a very small, very tight, leotard. She practically lived in the skimpy outfits and they never made her uncomfortable, but it suddenly felt inappropriate and she wished she had a pair of sweats she could hide in.

When Alex held on to her arm just a moment too long, she almost softened toward him and opened her mouth to say something but he beat her to the punch.

"Yo."

Yo? Was he kidding? That's all he had to say to her after two weeks? Not "what's up?" or "sorry" or "how's the gymnastics?" She pulled her arm from his grip and stepped back.

He had stopped looking in her eyes and looked as if he was ready to run away at any moment. His rejection tore at her heart and her anger was slowly being replaced with pain. She'd become so accustomed to his friendship and support that she'd come to rely on it. No one understood her the way her coach did and she desperately missed the closeness they had shared only a month or two ago. Now she was tired and all she wanted to do was go home.

"So, how have things been on the equipment lately?"

Feeling defeated, she shrugged and mumbled "lonely," but her heart wasn't behind the dig.
 
"Oh," he paused

Alex had never done well with guilt. At the age of five, his mother had left him and his father, who was well to do for a ship mechanic, to run off with a English bussniessman. Although he had been told many times it had nothing to do with him, he never quite go over how it first felt when it had been "his fault". Now, he had let somebody down again.

But was he really letting her down? If he did anything differntly, if he kept guiding her like he hade been doing, it was just too big of a risk. One small slip, and she'd lose confidence in him and herself. Now, at least, he could make shure she could follow her dreams unhaunted.

"I'm sorry," he bowed with pure honesty. "The gym manager's wife just gave birth and so he's had me in charge of the bussniesswork. Not the easiest thing, but it keeps a roof over our heads."
 
She could swear he was just feeding her an excuse- a platitude to keep her off his back- and she opened her mouth to say so, but her words died in her throat when she got a close look at his face. His exhaustion was obvious and written all over his face. His hair was ruffled where it was usually neat, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his brow was furrowed in what looked like anxiety and something close to pain.

She could feel herself softening toward him and immediately started to feel guilty for being angry with him this last week. Maybe he was just stressed and overworked. It was selfish of her to think he would always be at her beck and call.

Feeling foolish for thinking his behavior had anything to do with her, Anna smiled sweetly up at Alex, feeling an innate pull to comfort him.

"It's ok," she said, the anger gone from her voice. "But I do need your help on a few moves. Promise not to hide in there forever?" That last part she'd meant as a joke, but her sincerity showed in both her words and her eyes.
 
At first, he could feel the swet building up in his pores. After he had abadoned her like he had, would she still trust him? Then, his mind took over; she diden't have much of a choice. It was the truth, simple as that. He haden't slept in days, and even with his mostly perfect physic it was still starting to show on his face. It was, however, surge of releif when the anger left her face.

"I woulden't be doing my job if I did," he joked back. " The boss will be back in a day or two, so you'll just need to hold on a bit longer."

He weakly waved her goodbye as he turned, heading for the doors with heavy load dragging him down. So much for catching a few winks tonight. His movement was noticably slower as he dragged himself along, muscles aching.
 
"You'll just need to hold on a bit longer..."

You have no idea she thought to herself as she watched him walk away. She bit her lip and let her eyes slide down his sculpted back to rest just below his hips, resting there for a moment before she forces her attention back to the present.

Pivoting to face her gym bag, Anna bends to grab her sweatpants and quickly pulls them on over her leotard. She had to get out of the gym. She was tired and frustrated and there was only so much she could take. She was a gymnast for a reason--she loved control. Not being able to control her feelings and the situation with Alex was driving her crazy.

She tossed her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the gym, shaking out her ponytail as she did.

----------------------------

1 AM that Evening:

Anna woke with a small groan, shifting and trying to sink deeper into the covers. She laid still for a minute before finally sighing and opening her eyes. She wouldn't get back to sleep now, she knew that much.

Her body felt alive now, burning with a familiar energy, and there was only one way to get it out.

She slid out from under the covers, shivering in the cool air, and quickly changed into spandex and a sports bra. She threw her hair up into a ponytail and hopped into her car, making the quick drive to the gym. She parked around back and grabbed the extra gym key she hid in her wallet.

She slid into the gym, being as quiet as she could, and dropped her stuff in the corner. She walked over to the edge of the mat and threw herself into her floor routine.
 
What a day, what a day

Alex collapsed onto his worn sofa, breifcase clattering onto the floor. It wasen't a physical exaustioin, he'd delt with that before, but the mental kind. He was supposed to be out there, leading the way on the mats, and yet there he was taking care of the grunt work, like some useless intern.

Then he rembered the accident. Athlest had to be perfect, especially at the level of skill he had. One knick, one dent, and that was all there was to it. He had let himself trip on that passing attendent, let himself fall down that stairwell, and whale everybody said he'd been lucky to get away with just his knee out, he knew that wasen't true. If he'd lost his leg, that would have been better. THen he woulden't constantly feel as though he still COULD do it, just like at Quebec City.

That's when he knew what he had to do.

He arrived at the gym just before one, using the security combo that he'd been given to turn on and shut off the alarm each day, as part of his grunt duties. Changing into his sports shirt and tights, he went down into one of the gyms, keeping the lights on only dimmly, and then he could see it; the crowds, the flags, the mat, nothing else in the world had mattered.

"Let's go," he whispered and hurled himself into that day's routine. Jumping, spinning, darting like one possesed, he amazed himself by preforming each and every move perfectly. Then came the final part, leaping the line and landing perfectly. Drawing his knees back, he hurled himself forward.

Then he felt it, that slight unbalance, the tiny shift to the right that he misplaced cap caused, and for a moment he could almost hear himself crashing. Then, almost instincually, he shifted his weight to the left, and stuck the landing perfectly. The applause ran through his mind just as strong as that day, and he could even imagine what the flag had looked like, stars and stripes, what he had done all of this for.

Then her heard it. The soft click of shoes on tile.

Somebody else was in the building
 
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