Magdalena, Chapter 5

by Jackie

Magdalena was lucky. The infection had not progressed beyond her pussy and the frequent application of antibiotic cream, the vigilance of nurse Becky and extra care when she jilled cleared her problem up a couple of weeks later.

Meg was excited about the start of swim season. She was the team's star and practically never lost. Her favorite event was the individual medley. She often won that event by half the length of the pool. She entered the sports complex full of expectations.

Sara Prichard was a good coach. After all she'd brought her this far hadn't she? When missus Prichard had announced at the end of last season that she was moving to a more administrative role and that the coaching duties would be passed on to a former star of the Olympic team a lot of the girls had groaned, but Meg was enthusiastic about the possibilities. She was beginning to feel that she had learned all that her coach could teach her and was looking forward to the opportunity to work with a woman who had already accomplished what was HER dream. The twelve year old changed quickly and headed out onto the pool deck.

She saw missus Prichard standing with a shorter, black haired woman at the far end of the stadium pool. The team was gradually gathering around the two older women. The girls who ranged in age from eight to sixteen were talking among themselves quietly while waiting for the seasoning opening meeting to begin. Meg arrived at the assembly and exchanged greetings with her team mates. Some of them she hadn't seen since last season but this wasn't the time for catching up, there'd be plenty of time for that after practice. The congregation of pubescents all in the same red and white competition suits was a sight to behold. The girls naturally arranged themselves by age. The eight and nine year olds formed a group while the eleven twelve and thirteen year olds formed another. Ten year olds sort of occupied the gap between the two. Moving around the semi-circle that had formed, the far side was mainly populated with the oldest swimmers, the fifteen and sixteen year olds. There were exceptions of course but if you'd called for the team to line up according to height or age; very few would have had to move more than a couple of steps.

Magdalena was amazed at the development that had taken place on the off season. Her interest in the attributes of her fellow team members was different this year too. Ever since she'd joined the team when she was nine she'd noticed that she got a funny feeling in her tummy when she was around the other swimmers; whenever her she wasn't concentrating on the task at hand. Meg hadn't really understood it last year but her experience in the off season had clarified the meaning of those pangs. Aunt Tammy had been particularly instrumental in opening her eyes. Her eyes gravitated to crotches and she found herself imagining what all the pretty pussies, so thinly covered by the hi-tech racing suit material, looked like. The thought made her shiver. After practice she'd get her voyeuristic fill in the shower and locker room. The heat was rising between her legs when missus Prichard called the meeting to order.

"Ladies I am pleased to introduce to you Kirsten Johnson. Miz Johnson was a medal winner as part of the relay team in both the two thousand Sydney and two thousand-four Athens games. After the Athens games miz Johnson turned to coaching and we were lucky to be able to acquire her services. Her personal accomplishments are too numerous to mention, and I know that she will be able to provide the coaching and leadership to take our club to a new level of excellence." Spontaneous applause broke out as our new coach smiled and nodded graciously. All eyes now focused on the young woman with the short spiked black hair wearing the team's red and white warm up suit.

"Thank you missus Prichard" the swimming star thanked her predecessor. "I was able to attend your last competition last season, so I know that there is a tremendous amount of talent on this team. I will do my best to continue the winning tradition and I hope be able to provide some new techniques and skills that will make you all a little better."

"With that I am officially turning the team over to miz Johnson. I will still be around to provide advice and help whenever it's needed, but Kirsten, they're all yours." Missus Prichard likely had no idea how profound a statement that was.

"OK ... returning members of the team, you have your own warm up drills ... all the first year girls please follow me" miz Johnson said as she headed toward the shallow end of the pool.

The first practice went smoothly with the new coach mainly observing and making notes. They were going through their cool down exercises and stretches when the whistle sounded signifying the end of practice. "Good first session girls" the new coach congratulated them "next practice is at four on Wednesday." Some of the swimmers continued their post practice activities while others immediately headed for the showers. Meg was one of the first in the locker room. Not that she was in a hurry, quite the contrary. She dawdled around fussing with her towel and her clothes, anything and everything, as she observed her team mates strip and head for the showers. Some of the girls wrapped their towel around themselves and some didn't bother. One way or another Magdalena saw every one of them for more or less time. All the different vulvas the ones with long outer lips, the ones with long protruding inner lips and the ones that were just plump and round with a demure split down the middle. Slowly she stripped and made her way to the showers without missing a viewing opportunity.

As she headed for the shower she saw her new coach stroll through the room. Miz Johnson walked quite slowly taking in the scenery before exiting out to the hall of the sports complex. It was interesting because Coach Prichard had never done this. There was a door from the pool area that led directly out to the corridor where the offices were. The only reason to go through the change room was to get an eye full. None of her team mates seemed to notice but for Meg the action was significant and telling. Her coochie had been droning along at a simmer but the idea that her new coach might be interested in her team's abilities beyond swimming made her girlhood twitch very pleasantly. She started to hatch a plot to determine how interested miz Johnson really was.

Kirsten arrived back in her office where she didn't have to control her breathing. She had virtually been holding her breath as she made her way through the locker room to keep from panting. She pushed the door of her office closed with her ass and rested against it taking deep breaths. The fever in her pelvis had reached the stage were something had to be done. The swim coach shoved her hand down the front of her warm up pants and clutched her mons. The pressure brought some relief but she knew it would be short lived and inadequate. Stripping off the warm up suit the bathing suit followed seconds later. She sprang athletically onto the high training table. Her right hand went to work between her legs while her left began rhythmically squeezing and tugging at her C cup boob all while then images of her team flashed behind her closed eyes.

This was Kirsten's dream job. Teaching young girls the fine points of swimming and other things when the opportunity presented. The time worn adage applied here 'be careful what you wish for'. When opportunity did not or in this case had not had time to present itself the ex-Olympian was subjected to torture like a destitute kid in a candy store. As she worked her thick slippery juices over her clean shaven vulva memories of her initiation into the sisterhood were conjured from deep in her memory.

Fifteen years ago she'd been a rising star on an elite swim club. Confident and brash and not yet thirteen she'd challenged two of the older girls to a race after practice. To this day she was convinced she would have won if it hadn't been for the groin pull caused by slightly over doing her powerful kick. Her team mates rescued her and summoned the club's trainer. Sophie Braun was the forty year old physiotherapist who attended to the girls when overexertion affected their performance. Miz Braun quickly and accurately assessed the condition right there on the pool deck. "I don't think it's too bad" she comforted in her slight German accent. She gave Kristen cold compresses and told her to apply them fifteen minutes on and fifteen minutes off to keep the swelling down. "Come and see me tomorrow after school so I can see how the injury has progressed."

Recalling how painful it had been to limp to the therapy room the next afternoon was not very sensual. Miz Braun wasted no time in having the preteen future Olympian lay down on her treatment table. Kristen felt the electric pulse shoot up from her pussy as she recalled Sophie squeezing her good leg. Working her way up from just above her knee the talented masseuse had commented that she needed to compare one leg with the other. The experienced fingers kneaded the supple flesh all the way up, incidentally pushing her skirt up ahead of them. The injured athlete was embarrassed when the back of the trainer's hand made contact directly between her legs. The feel of the hand against her girlhood, shielded only by a double thickness of white cotton, made her feel really hot all over.

The pubescent miz Johnson had recently discovered the intense pleasure she could generate by playing with her demur little slit but she was mortified that the trainer's apparently innocent and incidental contact was arousing those same feelings. The naked coach's fingers moved faster atop the training table in her office as she remembered the older German woman repeat her squeezing progression up the injured leg. At the top of her thigh the same intimate contact produced the same warm rush. Kristen recalled moaning and the therapist saying "I know its tender sweetheart ... but trust me it'll feel much better after I massage it a little." She was glad the trainer apparently associated the moan with discomfort and not its real cause. When miz Braun continued her kneading action with one hand and casually flipped the adolescent swimmer's skirt further out of her way with the other. Coach Johnson inserted two fingers deep in her steaming vagina recalling how the trainer's face looked. The older woman was flushed, and her face looked surprisingly strained considering the amount of effort that was going into manipulating the injury. The repositioning of her skirt had of course completely exposed the twelve year old pudenda which was clearly where her therapist's eyes were focused. It made perfect sense for the trainer to be looking at what she was doing, but the combination of the woman seeing her thin white panties and the way the wrist of the massaging hand was pressing against her pubic bone was nevertheless causing the pubescent pussy to hum.

The recollection now made the coach insert a third finger. Pumping steadily with the back of her thumb colliding with her throbbing clit on every stroke she was reliving the moment fifteen years ago when she'd given herself permission to stop suppressing the moans. The preteen on the table was twitching a little as the soft noises escaped her throat. "It's OK honey ... it won't be much longer now..." Sophie had assured her and she sounded quite breathless. As if to comfort her patient the older woman began to stroke circles with the palm of her free hand on the prone girl's heaving tummy. The elliptical caress went from hip bone to hip bone. The top of each stroke brushed her lace trimmed waistband and the bottom traveled across the super heated pubic bone.

Kirsten relived the massive surge that made her hips thrust up off the training table in her office; just as they had done a decade and a half ago under the skilled hands of Sophie Braun. In spite of the fact that Sophie's stimulation of her girlhood had been sort of indirect that time Kristen was sure that the waves of heat and ecstasy that washed over her that day had been even bigger and more powerful than the ones she'd just produced with her own plunging fingers. The coach brought her soggy fingers up to her mouth and cleaned off the slick pussy juice that coated them. Her mind played an indelible recording of the trainer's parting words " ... I want you to come back every day for the next week for treatment..." Yeah that was only the beginning miz Johnson mused as she replayed her recent stroll through the locker room one more time.

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Wednesday day morning was a long time coming. Meg was ready with her plan and when school let out she could already feel anticipation leaking into her panties. Concentrating in class had been hard and now that she was in the company of her target it was impossible. Luckily swimming came so naturally to her there wasn't much need to think. Meg was quite conscious of the fact that Coach Johnson spent a lot of time looking at her.

'Sara was right she is something special' Kirsten thought as she observed the twelve year old go through her paces. She saw a lot of herself in the little curly haired blonde. Not of course the hair color Kirsten had always been dark, but certainly in the way she moved once she was in the water. The Olympics were only months away and the teams were obviously already chosen but Kirsten was well aware of how brief the career of a world class swimmer could be. 'We need to get busy so she'll be ready for the next trials' which were only two years away.

It was further tribute to Meg's talent that Coach Johnson did not even recognize how distracted the swimming prodigy was. When she sounded the whistle to signal the end of practice Kristen positioned herself to observe to nubile bodies, in the red racing suits with the large white stripe up the side, file into the locker room. She busied herself picking up discarded towels and throwing them into the hamper to fill in time. She knew most of the girls would be hungry, especially after the strenuous work out, and wouldn't waste any time getting home for supper. Giving just enough time for most of the suits to come off she took the scenic route to her office again. Passing through the locker room her pussy twitched and ached as the pubescent smorgasbord paraded before her eyes. She issued words of praise and encouragement to the girls she passed closest to. By the time she was out in the hall her breathing had gotten quite ragged again.

Magdalena's friends were starting to wonder what had gotten into her. Britney and Emily, the other two twelve year olds on the team had finished their showers and were dressing before Meg even had her suit off. "Are you planning to stay for the night?" Emily quipped as she pulled the T shit over her puffy new chest.

"Na" Meg replied distractedly "I gotta go fast in the water ... as far as I know, there's no prize for going fast in here."

"Suit yourself but I'm starved and I got a ton of homework" her friend confided as she picked up her bag and headed for the door with Britney close at her heels. Meg finally stripped off her suit and entered the showers just as two of the senior girls were coming out. 'They're always the slowest' Meg recognized and appreciated the impressive development of the sixteen year old's busts as they exited past her without giving her as much as a glance.

Back at her locker instead of donning her street clothes she put on the team's red and white warm up suit over her nakedness. Exactly according to plan the seniors were leaving she was the last one in the room.

Thirty feet down the hall Coach Johnson was naked on her training table rotating three fingers firmly on her plush bald vulva. She was recalling the second therapy session for her groin pull; the one where the team's trainer had convinced her that she'd be more comfortable if she took her panties off. As Kristen recalled it, Sophie hadn't been too explicit as to how this would make her more comfortable but she also recalled that she hadn't argued or asked for a detailed explanation; she had just complied. her mind was trying to recreate the nervous excitement she'd felt as she pulled her underpants down that day fifteen years ago when the firm rap on her office door nearly made her jump right off the padded surface.

Breathless as she was she managed to choke out "a moment please!" 'Who the hell can that be?' she cursed as she scrambled into her warm up suit. When she opened her office door she was greeted by the shy smile surrounded by the still damp blonde curls of the team's undisputed star. "Meg!" she said and it came out an octave higher and somewhat louder than her normal speaking voice, reflecting her surprise. "I thought everyone was gone."

"I ... I wanted to talk to you in private ... if that's OK?" the twelve year old said feeling her nervous stomach do a couple of somersaults. When she'd flashed her Aunt Tammy she'd had no idea where this kind of thing could lead. After all she'd been sneakily displaying her crotch for months, sort of every chance she got. The only thing that happened was that she got a really funny ... funny good, feeling between her legs. Her aunt had acquainted her with the fact that, given the opportunity, some people would do more than just look.

She hadn't set out to show off her goods to the school nurse. That was a situation born of necessity. She still visited her Florence Nightingale as often as she could for ... uh, check ups, to make sure her problem didn't come back, but the nurse was a little paranoid about her coming too often. Magdalena found, now that she was standing face to face with the woman she'd been fantasizing about, that actually executing her plan was going to take more guts than she'd thought. "Sure come on in" the coach invited opening the door wider. "What can I do for you?" Kirsten asked resting her butt on the edge of her desk. Briefly the older woman wondered how the hi-tech material of the warm up suit would deal with her on going flow of pussy juice. The fabric was designed to wick moisture away from the body and spread it out, allowing it to dry more quickly. It was, of course, intended for water and sweat not the thick ooze that generally coated her aroused vulva. She resisted the temptation to look down to check. She would have needed to be a little psychic at this point to know that she could have resolved the question by looking at her pubescent visitor's crotch.

"I ... er, well it's ... uh, really personal" Meg stammered wishing she'd rehearsed the actual words. Feeling the girl's embarrassment Kirsten went to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Just relax sweetie ... I want you to be comfortable and feel like you can tell me anything... 'cause ya can ya know ... tell me anything. I won't judge you, I just want to help." The reassuring words and the softness of the evidently unfettered breast against her shoulder plucked up Meg's courage. 'This is supposed to be fun..." she reminded herself.

"Well it's about hair ... uh ... down there" she said waving in the direction of her crotch. The coach felt a significant thump in her pussy, which was suffering from diddle-us interrupt-us. She suddenly found herself trying to picture the twelve year old's pubes. She had probably seen it but it was too early to connect vulvas to faces. Kirsten was having trouble imagining that the fair haired swimming star had enough hair down there to be of any concern; and she was right. The taller black haired woman wasn't sure how to respond so there was an awkward silence. Meg swallowed hard and felt the pressure increasing between her legs as she continued. "All of the older girls shave ... uh, down there and I was wondering if it's ... important to ... uh, your speed ... or ... or ... uh..." her voice trailed off, her excitement was building and she decided to just shut up and see how her coach was going to respond. Kirsten wasn't used to having opportunities like this handed to her so she was a little off balance.

"Well honey most swimmers do remove their pubic hair" she confided. "I don't know if it has anything to do with speed ... it's more a matter of comfort. Wouldn't want any embarrassing hairs sneaking out the sides of your suit." she added with a tension breaking chuckle. Magdalena felt the atmosphere change. Her shoulders, which had been pulled up tight with nervous tension, dropped and she felt the coach's grip on her shoulders relax slightly; she suspected for the same reason.

"I wanted to do it ... ya know, like shave, but I was scared to..." the preteen said shyly looking up at the older woman. "I haven't really like shaved anything very much ... I shaved under my arms a couple of times and ... and once I cut myself so I was afraid ... I mean what if I like cut myself down there..." Meg paused and waited for her words to sink in. she hoped her coach and potential victim would get the message she was sending, without her having to draw a map.

Miz Johnson got the message and it rekindled the flames of arousal that had subsided to embers during the interruption of her self pleasuring exercise. "Would you like me to help you with it?" she offered. The full meaning of what she had just proposed nearly made her cry out when the pulse hit her squarely in the clit. The talented preteen simply looked up at her with wide trusting eyes and nodded.

Stunned by the sudden fortuitous turn of events Kirsten felt herself beginning to quiver. She searched the wide blue eyes of her pubescent visitor for understanding. 'Does she have any idea what she's agreeing to?' the coach wondered and simultaneously realized she didn't care. This was not unlike scenarios she had constructed to get her hands on adolescent pussies. The only difference was, in this case, the lamb had volunteered for the slaughter. OK, maybe that was an inappropriate metaphor, but the tantalizing question remained.

The coaching office had a private three piece bathroom, so miz Johnson had a full range of bath products readily at hand. "You'll have to take your warm-ups off" she said as she turned toward the little wash-up facility to collect the necessary gear.

'Moment of truth' Magdalena recognized as she felt the throbs of anticipation. She quickly skinned the red and white pants over her nearly non-existent hips and placed them on the end of the training table. In a bold and entirely unnecessary move she stripped off her top as well. Standing naked in the middle of the coach's office she felt an amazing sense of freedom. Kristen did a double take when she returned from her supply gathering mission. She hadn't expected the girl to strip completely, so the alluring view of the small rounding boobs with their adorable plump pink caps was a bonus. The preteen's Mona Lisa smile coupled with her completely disrobing spoke volumes to the black haired seductress. 'She not only knows what this is about, she's playing me' Kirsten concluded. 'Well let's just see who's better at this game'.

"Sit up on the table" the coach instructed. Meg put her hands on the vinyl padded top and vaulted her self up onto the tan plastic surface. She squealed when her hot butt hit the cold massage table. "Cold, isn't it?" Coach Johnson sympathized. The thermal shock had sent a thrilling pulse through her overheated girlhood and she found that she wasn't able to reply beyond a deep groan. The older woman pulled her desk chair over and sat in front of the youngster's knees. She had placed her shaving supplies on the corner of the desk, and only had to roll her chair back a few inches to wring out the washcloth that was soaking in the bowl of warm water. Looking up into the girl's wide blue eyes surrounded by the tight blonde curls she whispered "Open nice and wide for me honey." The eroticism of the scene made Magdalena's head spin as she parted her legs for the former Olympian.

"Wider, sweetie" Kristen encouraged by pushing outward on the pubescent thighs; "and slide your bum right to the edge." The combination of the coach pushing on her thighs and her shifting her hips forward spread the preteen's legs to the max. Meg tried with only limited success to suppress the groan and she felt her pussy blossom before the appreciative woman's eyes. Miz Johnson watched with fascination as the plump pink vulva opened revealing the dark pink treasures inside. Surrounding the pearly pink gash was a golden fringe of fine curls. The clear juices glistened under the fluorescent lights and the black spiky haired woman seated on the desk chair inhaled deeply to draw in the sweet adolescent fragrance. Meg noticed a change in the tone of her coach's voice when she said "Forward just a little more honey." Miz Johnson sounded croaky, like her throat was raw. The talented young swimmer complied with the order and found that her tailbone was resting on the very edge of the table. Kristen was pleased as the puckered brown spiral of the tight little anus came into view. "You'll be more comfortable if you just lean back" Coach Johnson suggested. Meg put her hands behind her on the padded table top and let most of her weight rest on them.

Kristen was using all her willpower to not dive on the adorable confection so perfectly presented. With regret she applied the warm wash cloth to wet the sparse curls realizing that she would be wiping away some of the precious nectar. 'Plenty more where that came from..." she rationalized.

Magdalena had to exercise willpower of her own to keep her hips from bucking at the contact of the warm flannel. From her precarious position such a movement was likely to land her on the floor. The twelve year old bit her lip but again was only partially able to stifle the moan. Having wetted the area Kirsten reached back for the aerosol shave gel. Applying a small blob to the fingers of her right hand miz Johnson made contact with the plump flesh above the seeping crease. The feel of the hot pliable flesh sent a shockwave through her tortured clit. She was spreading and lathering the gel in time with the pounding sensation between her legs.

Meg didn't even try to hold the vocalization of the pleasure wave back this time. She loosed the loud groan that increased in pitch until it was a squeal. Kristen was so enthralled by the feel of the spongy hot vulva under her finger that she barely noticed. She actually surprised herself when she summoned the restraint to pull her hand away from the delectable girlhood and rinse her fingers in the bowl of water. With the white foam surrounding it the gash looked an even deeper shade of pink. 'Business before pleasure' the former Olympian reminded herself as she pick up the razor. Employing the highly developed ability to concentrate that had made her a champion; Kristen made firm sure strokes slicing the blonde curls from the delicate flesh. Meg felt only the tugging on her vulva caused by her coach keeping the skin taught. The manipulation was not intended to be stimulating but the result was, all the same. The nimble fingers of Miz Johnson's left hand were complimenting the razor strokes but simultaneously driving the girl mad. The pulling and stretching without getting to the heart of the matter was driving Magdalena crazy. She wanted so badly to thrust her hips; to force the teasing fingers to enter her but she knew any unexpected movement could be disastrous, so she bit down and endured the torture.

Kristen Johnson would have had an argument about who was being tortured. She was staring up the most delectable pubescent pussy she'd ever seen and couldn't take advantage. Her limbic system was in overload and if not for her super-human powers of control and concentration she would long since have devoured the all but irresistible feast. The non-stop flow if juice from the overheated quim was not helping matters. Kirsten was hard pressed to remember when she'd seen anyone as juicy as this. The clear fluid tracked down the pubescent lips and channeled between the pubescent butt cheeks before dripping off the edge of the vinyl topped table.

On auto pilot the coach wiped the residual shave cream from the dripping vulva with the wash cloth, taking care not to remove any more of the preteen ambrosia than was necessary. "Nice and pink and bare" Kirsten announced as she completed her labors.

"Oh God ... oh my God" the girl whimpered several times as the warmth of the cloth further stimulated her already engorged pudenda. When Kristen was satisfied that all the shave cream and stubble was gone she used both hands to part the bald vulva. Holding the plump outer lips she worked her fingers to collect the inner petals as well. The deep pink and draining fluid confirmed what she already knew; Meg was right on the verge. The breath mint sized clit sticking out from under its protective hood caught Kirsten's attention and she just knew she had to taste it. She lowered the flat of her tongue onto the firm little knob and at the same time she inserted the first joint of her ring finger into the preteen's anus. The abundant lubrication let her digit slide easily inside the hot tight recesses. When she had scooped up a mouthful of pubescent pussy juice she fastened her lips around the rubbery clit and sucked. The ring finger disappeared inside the adolescent bum.

Magdalena felt a wave of heat like she had never felt before rising from her pelvis. Two never before experienced sexual sensations at the same time were way more than her over stimulated system could stand. Gongs and whistles and bells and rockets all happened simultaneously as she shook and shuddered on the training table. The twelve year old thought she was probably screaming but her ears were not really functioning so she wasn't sure. When the thrashing subsided the wonderful feeling of the coaches finger in her bum and the tender lapping of her post orgasmic vulva made her feel serene but still aroused.

Looking down into miz Johnson's big brown eyes she simply said, "My turn..."