body. The dark hairs I hadn't shaved that day showed in a triangle at my center. I realized it was the night of the ice bath, when he stayed over.
Why do you have images of me like this in your phone?
Coach: They remind me to look and not touch.
Lol! It’s not possible for you to look and not touch.
Coach: You make me crazy when I am around you. All I can think about is touching you.
All the air left my lungs. I saw him seven days a week, a good ten to fifteen hours on days when I didn't have tutoring. He always had his hands on me during practice and our private classes. And yet that wasn't enough. He needed pictures of me.
This man confused me to no end. Just when I think I've figured him out, he hits me with something new, and it's as if I'd never known him at all.
You make me look beautiful.
Coach: I do not do anything. It is all you, malyshka.
Malyshka? I thought it was malysh.
Coach: My phone will autocorrect to the correct spelling. It is actually malyshka, but I shortened it to malysh. It is like equivalent to babe.
Seconds turned to minutes turned to silence. Figuring this was a good place to end the conversation, I placed my phone down and went to pick up my clothes I had dropped on the floor earlier. We'd never texted like this, and while I found myself liking it much more than I should, it struck a worry of fear through me. There had been no evidence of our relationship before, and now there was.
Coach: What would you title this photo? I want your first thought.
My stomach tightened as I sat rock steady waiting for the image to come through. Something in my gut told me it would be more suggestive.
Sure enough, I was right on the money.
It matched the last photo, except this time Kova's hand was gripping my inner thigh. His fingers were so close to the lining of my panties.
And it was hot as fuck. I replied, giving the picture a title.
The corruption of an honorable man.
Coach: Okay. And what about this one?
The camera was angled differently this time. Instead of it being at my side, it was taken further down the length of my body without the view of my face. Like he moved to sit next to me.
My lips parted, desire igniting within me as I stared in revelation. His hand was curled against the center of my sex, cupping me, his thumb pressed into my mound.
I was instantly wet from the image.
Shit. This was bad. This was very bad.
But it felt so fucking good that I couldn't contain the smirk that slid across my mouth. I wasn't that young. There were girls having sex at thirteen and babies by fourteen.
At least, that's what I told myself.
Lust and hunger. Sin. Wicked. Prey.
Before he could respond, I shot him another text.
I thought the sole purpose of these photos was to not touch.
Coach: Morals were never my strong suit.
Why can’t you ever just be open and honest about how you feel? How you act confuses the hell out of me. It hurts.
Coach: I never said I was perfect. Being misleading is easier because I cannot explain the shit that goes on in my head. Both sound recklessly accurate in that moment.
I mused over his text. From his point of view, it made complete sense because I felt the exact way.
You're right, I'll give you that. I guess from now on, whatever you say and do, I'm going to have to assume you mean the opposite. Talk about a mind fuck.
Coach: Trust me, I confuse myself.
Show me more. I know you have more.
He just admitted he lacked morals, I presumed he had more photos of me hidden away.
Coach: You want more? You are not upset? Disgusted?
Not even close.
And I wasn’t.
Kova sent another photo. He was seated between my legs, my knees spread out, and his hands gripped the top of my pale pink underwear, like he was ready to rip them off. They were teasingly pulled down half way, and the embarrassing dark little hairs peaked out. I was going to have my shit waxed religiously after this. I hated the way that looked. But then again, it also showed I wasn't as young as it originally appeared either.
God. I was just as bad as Kova.
The next image showed his hand underneath the thin material of my panties, his thumb pressing on my