A/N: I am aware that this situation is a tad unrealistic, but I think we can all agree to set that knowledge aside for a little bit, right? Enjoy! And review please!
Sasha sighed as he closed the door to the Airstream behind him. It had been a trying day, to say the least, and he wanted nothing more than a hot shower.
He'd been working with Payson on her beam routine for Olympic Trials, and she had expressed interest in adding a little more of what Lauren called "sizzle," not much she had assured him, just enough to remind people that she is actually a girl. He thought it might have something to do with the resurgence of her "Robot Payson" nickname.
Of course, Sasha didn't think she needed to remind people of her femaleness. Anyone with eyes in their bloody head could see her soft, sinful curves and her pouty lips.
He shifted uncomfortably. Watching her move across the beam with even the tiniest spark of sizzle made Sasha's blood rush to all the wrong places. Images of her flashed unbidden through his mind; Payson's body wrapped around his, her face flushed with pleasure, her voice crying out his name. It was enough to drive him mad.
It was also enough to increase the uncomfortable stiffness in his crotch. He tried everything he could think of to make the erection go away, but each and every time his thoughts returned to Payson in that tight little purple leotard, the one that brought out her eyes. The one she'd worn the very first time he laid eyes on her…in person, of course. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Sasha shucked off his boxer briefs and his jeans and lay down on the narrow bed.
He supposed it should feel dirty, fantasizing about a seventeen year old girl the way he was, but it was hard to think of Payson as a teenager. She was just Payson; his best friend, his confidant. It didn't feel dirty, it felt right. And that made him feel guilty.
Sasha let his mind drift, dreaming of Payson in ways he didn't normally allow himself, and without the guilt that slammed into him every time his gaze lingered on her body a little too long. He imagined the soft silk of her skin, the way her breasts would crush against his chest. He imagined what it would feel like to be inside her.
His hand was a poor substitute for the way he was sure she would feel, surrounding him, clenching around him, but it was all he had. As he closed his hand around his painfully hard erection, he imagined it was hers; her calloused palms, her slender fingers.
The images in his head turned even more graphic, fantasies that would never be true. His heard started beating faster, the muscles low in his stomach clenching as his hips jerked involuntarily.
"Payson," he moaned, trying to hold on as he shivered in pleasure.
There was a sharp gasp.
For a moment, Sasha thought the noise came from him. But in almost the same moment he realized it hadn't and his eyes flew open.
Payson stood just inside the closed door, her eyes impossibly wide and a flush spreading rapidly up her neck and face. But she didn't turn away. She didn't seem to be able to. Sasha's hand stalled as they stared at each other. Sasha knew he should cover himself, force her to turn away, and then find a way to repair the damage he had just done, but he, like Payson, was frozen. He couldn't move, no matter how loudly his mind screamed that he should.
As he watched, her eyes roved his body, leaving his eyes to travel down his chest, to the proud thrust of his erection. It occurred to Sasha that though he saw her in a tiny leo that left her nearly naked every day, she had never seen him in less than a t-shirt and jeans.
Sasha had expected Payson to be repulsed when her gaze landed on his stiff cock, as so many young, innocent, inexperienced girls tended to be the first time they saw one, but if anything he thought he saw a flash of…interest? Desire? Hunger? He wasn't quite sure, it could have been one or all. Her fists clenched beside her, the first bit of movement since he's discovered her there, and she took a tiny stutter-step forward before stopping and rocking back on her heels, like she was half tempted to run away. But she didn't.
"I just…I wanted to ask," she trailed off, still not able to take her eyes from the space between his legs. Sasha kept silent as she took another hesitant step forward. Confusion seemed to cloud her face for a moment. "You said my name."
It was a breathy whisper that made Sasha harder, which he didn't think was possible. He felt like he was going to explode any moment.
"Yes," he answered, because he felt as though he should say something. Payson's eyes flicked up to his, realization dawning in those beautiful blue irises. He could see that it was all finally connecting for her, the knowledge that she was the object of his fantasies. Her lips parted in a perfect little "o" and she took another step.
Sasha was at a complete loss for words. He knew, knew with every fiber of his being that he should stop her, make her leave, because if she didn't there would be no turning back. But he was just a man, and he was being faced with his dream come true. He couldn't turn her away.
She was standing at the foot of the bed now, close enough to reach out and touch him, so close that her knees brushed slightly against his, making him shiver. She started to reach out for him, but stopped halfway, her arm hovering in the air as she looked back to his face.
"Can I?" she asked quietly. A lump rose in Sasha's throat, making it impossible to speak. Payson looked so vulnerable, so out of her element, but eager, that he couldn't imagine turning her away. He nodded.
With all the grace he had helped to bring out, Payson sank to her knees before him and reached out with little hesitation. The moment she touched him, Sasha thought he would die. He was never one for melodrama, but the feel of her hand against him, everything he'd just imagined happening in real life, was almost too much. It was nirvana.
She explored him slowly, lightly tracing her fingers up the length of him, her index finger swirling the pre-cum that had leaked out of him around the tip, before pulling her hand away and staring at her finger. Her eyes met his as her tongue flicked out to taste it.
Sasha groaned, his head falling back onto the bed. He wondered if she knew what an incredible picture she was painting for him. What a sensual scene that was? Lifting his head again he saw that her focus had returned to his shaft. She reached for him again, this time closing her hand fully around him, though her grip was loose.
Payson looked back to his face, her eyes burning the same way they did when she wanted to learn a new skill or routine.
"Show me," she demanded softly, her voice unwavering.
As Sasha closed his own hand around hers, guiding her, he marveled at the woman before him. She had been so innocent, so seemingly uninterested in all things sexual, and yet here she was demanding that he teach her. She gave no indication that she was nervous, no outward signs that she was uncomfortable or apprehensive. She seemed eager.
After a few moments of silent instruction, Payson gently pushed his hand away, taking over. Her hand moved slowly, up and down, changing the pressure every few strokes. Sasha shuddered, wanting badly to screw his eyes shut but unwilling to look away from Payson.
Sitting up, Payson surprised him once again by leaning forward and flicking out her tongue to taste him. He hissed as waves of pleasure washed over him, fighting to hold on. And then all thought went out of his head as she leaned forward again and took him in her mouth, sucking lightly. His eyes rolled back and he couldn't stop the violent shudder that went through him.
As she explored him with her mouth, Sasha reached out for her hair, twirling strand of it around his fingers before bury his hand in her hair and cupping the back of her head. She didn't seem to mind the guidance, following the slight pressure of his hand as he showed her what to do.
Finally, Sasha didn't think he could hold on any longer. Surging forward, he hauled her up, rolling over her and pressing her against the mattress. For a moment he paused, just staring at her. She smiled, tracing the line of his brow with her fingertips.
"Kiss me," she urged. Knowing that their relationship was forever changed, that they were no longer just coach and athlete but something so much more, he obliged.