Ballet or Gymnastics – Our Wager! Part 1

I like nothing better than to meet with my girlfriends for a coffee and a catch-up, ideally sitting outside in the sunshine at my favourite Hampstead coffee shop. During a recent lunchtime chat with one of my close friends, our conversation came around to the varying merits of our chosen ‘keep-fit’ passions. She was in the Gymnastics camp while I, as you know from previous blogs, was a firm advocate of ballet. After more discussions and a flip of a coin, a challenge was wagered as to who could survive a session of each other’s pastime. As my friend won the coin toss, it was Gymnastics first.

On the appointed day, I arrived at the Gym suitably attired in skin-tight Lycra. My friend was waiting for me with six stunningly fit beauties and the coach, who was a greying 40-something sporting a tight Lycra outfit that left nothing to the imagination.

We started warming up with some gentle stretches, easy for me to complete with my ballet training, and then some cardio work with jogging on the spot. Well, I thought, if this is as tough as it becomes then my friend, Julia, is in for a big shock when she is at my dance studio. My feeling of smugness was short-lived, however, as the mat work began. As an incentive, possibly, the coach stood at the finishing point with a table tennis bat and was administering stinging slaps across the buttocks of anyone who he felt had not met his exacting standards. One by one each of the girls presented their routine and most received a slap of differing severity, depending on how well they had performed.

Soon enough it was my turn and so I rolled and bounced my way across the mat, hoping to impress with my gracefulness but, at the end of the display, there was a pause and then howls of laughter. The coach looked at me, I looked at the ground and then he instructed me to touch my toes so that I could receive a sharp, stinging smack.

Perhaps to placate me, or maybe this was normal for their Gym, the coach suggested that he should massage my calves and hamstrings to improve my take-off power from the mat. Why he then needed to venture further up my legs and to my groin baffled me, until I glanced across and noticed the massive bulge in his shorts – it seemed that gymnastics was far from his mind!

As the other girls left for the day and shut the doors behind them, that seemed to be the signal for the coach and my friend to strip and start working out in a very different manner. As I was already ‘there’ so to speak, I was encouraged to join them and, when a couple of vibrators appeared, pretty soon the sounds of horny women joined with the noise of the vibrators echoing around the building. Far too soon for my liking, the scream of an intense orgasm came from Julie, which my mind took as the signal for my own mind-blowing climax. Now, what of the poor coach you may ask? Well, as soon as Julia and I came back down to earth, we focused on his needs and after bringing him close to the edge several times, using our 4 hands to maximum effect, we relented and let him have the loudest and happiest orgasm on the planet.

On the way home I thought ‘how can I follow that?’, but a few filthy thoughts came to mind.

You can decide what happens next, or even live out your own spanking fantasy with an ending of your dreams.

Love Lilly x