Mohini’s Olympic Diary: Closing (legs) ceremonies by Rinky Dink. (Mf, FF, MC)
gregg777us@yahoo.com
Background: Mohini Bhardwaj was a 25-year-old American of Indian/Russian ancestry and the captain of the USA women’s gymnastics in the 2004 Athens Olympics. She got a lot of publicity as she had tried to make the team in 1996 but missed out and then decided to make an incredible comeback eight years later. Her main financial backer was actress Pamela Anderson. She is 4-foot-10; 95-pounds with lustrous brown hair and big brown eyes and an obviously super-fit body. As far as this writer knows, Mohini is
a very nice person and positive role model for young women. For the purposes of this story, she has been given an incredibly high sex drive. This is her (completely fictional) story. Enjoy!
Note: Mohini means ‘illusion’ in Hindi. Thanks to Tranceman for letting me borrow one of his characters.
Although she had been in Athens for just two weeks, it was tough for Mohini Bhardwaj to remember what life was like outside in the real world, so intense had been her immersion in the competition and lifestyle of an Olympian.
But she knew it was her final day in Greece as the U.S Olympic team was flying out first thing in the morning, and she had plenty of things to pack up and ship to her little apartment in Los Angeles.
“Oops, my videotapes, can’t leave THEM here,” smiled Mohini as she whisked them into a suitcase. “They would be highly embarrassing to about 10 countries national heroes if found.”
Her Olympic experience had been everything Mohini could have hoped for but as she folded and stowed away her tiny outfits she had this nagging feeling in the back of her head.
Something was supposed to happen today. Something real big, but she had no idea what. And for some reason she kept looking over at the phone, even though she wasn’t expecting any calls.
She was in midfold of a babydoll nightie when the phone rang.
Mohini jumped at the sound and hurried to pick up the phone anxiously, even though she had no idea why.
“Mohini?”
“Yes, this is Mohini.”
“Mo! It’s Terrance Maples.”
“Oh, hi Dr. Maples, what’s it been? Nine or 10 years since you were my sports psychologist.”
“Nine I believe, and, oh, don’t call me doctor, I had a little problem with Martina Hingis a while ago, but I have one more act as your psychologist to perform:
“It’s time to think of The Illusion, Mohini. Remember The Illusion.”
Mohini’s eyes went wide. She felt like a hatch had sudden opened in her head and a flood of repressed memories poured into her conscious mind.
“I remember. Wow, that’s all I can say right now.”
“Take your time Mo. I’ve waited almost a decade to make this call, a few more minutes won’t kill me. Because the next question is…”
“Do I want to keep The Illusion?”
“Yes, that’s the big question.”
Mohini sighed a bit as she remembered an important part of her past for the first time….
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While Mohini Bhardwaj is now well known for her incredible leadership skills and being such an inspirational role model, the teenage Mohini had been a totally different sort.
At 16, Mohini’s amazing talent had been recognized and in 1995 Inside Gymnastics magazine had hailed her as “finally the new Mary Lou Retton has arrived.”
But soon Mohini had a different nickname, “the Wild Child of Gymnastics”.
Mohini was not a bad kid, but she didn’t have the emotional maturity to handle the hopes and dreams of entire nation resting on her shoulders. She was better than everybody else, and she knew it, and hid her insecurities behind the façade of a party girl.
She smoked, drank, had a tattoo on her ankle and a stud in her nose. She blew off many practices and was sexually promiscuous with boys. (Yes BOYS). The last part was actually what most concerned gymnastics officials.
At the USA Youth Festival they discovered at least 10 boys she had made out with. With her vagina wide open to all comers, they were worried she would get pregnant before the 1996 Olympics and be unable to lead the American team to victory in Atlanta.
They had turned in desperation to Dr. Terrence Maples, a preeminent sports psychologist with a reputation for being particularly effective with female athletes to counsel the brown-skinned spitfire.
Of course, the rebellious Mohini would have none of this and soon found Maples weak spot to control him – namely sex.
It took only a couple sessions of Mohini showing up in tight tops and miniskirts or in her private schoolgirl outfit, complete with plaid skirt and white stockings, to seduce him with her cute and sexy body.
She soon had the venerable Dr. Maples wrapped around her little finger as their time in his office became little more then sex sessions.
The usual procedure, after a while, would have Mohini come into his private office in some low-cut top and a barely covering-her-ass skirt.
She would light up a cigarette and go to Dr. Maples bar and fix herself a scotch and soda (diet soda of course as Mohini was in training).
She’d then bitch to him about how her coaches were too tough and how the other gymnasts were jealous of her because she was so much better than them and she didn’t even have to practice hard, while she smoked and drank.
Eventually, Mohini would simply whip off her clothes and go on the floor and give Dr. Maples, who by now was not wearing pants, a blowjob as he sat in his psychologist’s chair next to the couch.
Soon, they would both be either on the floor or on the couch having sex for the rest of the session. When time was up, Mohini would put back her clothes, down another drink for the road, and leave while Dr. Maples filled out a report on how well Mohini was progressing under his ‘care’.
The arrangement seemed to make both happy. Mohini was left alone to do whatever she wanted and Dr. Maples got lots of sex.
However, reality crashed in when the gymnastics federation told him Mohini was going to be shipped to an exclusive gymnastics academy in Florida to hone her skills for the Olympics.
There were boys at the academy as well, not to mention the nearby beach but now that Dr. Maples had settled down Mohini, as far as they knew, they felt comfortable having their leading light go down there in close quarters to many temptations.
Dr. Maples knew that, if anything, now that Mohini knew she had him in her hip pocket, she was even more brazen sexually than before she started seeing him.
Being totally on her own, Maples knew Mohini would get knocked up soon after her arrival as she refused any kind of birth control, saying she loved the feeling of a man’s cock pouring his seed into her womb.
Maples wondered if Mohini didn’t deep down want to get pregnant, thus relieving her of the intense pressure to be the superstar of the Atlanta Olympics.
Well, whether she liked it or not, Mohini was NOT going to be with child as Maples knew a pregnant 16-year-old Bhardwaj while under his care would ruin his reputation.
The result of this was the tiny nude figure of Mohini Bhardwaj laying limply on his couch. Her eyes were open but totally blank as she stared at a black-and-white spiral twirling in Dr. Maples hand in front of her.
Since he found out about her pending move, Maples had begun talking Mohini into trying his ‘relaxation techniques’, after having sex with her of course, which was actually him flat out hypnotizing her.
With the mind relaxants he began spiking her drink with, Mohini was soon becoming deeply entranced.
She was only a week away from going to Florida and Maples thought he now had Mohini hypnotized thoroughly enough to start molding her thoughts. But into what?
“Mo, you will look at me now, the spiral is in me, I am the spiral, you obey the spiral, you obey me,” said Maples and he slowly pocketed the spinning wheel.
“Yes…you are the spiral ….I obey you,” said Mohini in the flattest tone possible.
Dr. Maples thought he was off to a good start but when he started telling Mohini to stop having sex she would refuse, always saying the same thing.
“I obey the spiral…I am its slave…but must have sex…must.”
Maples was totally frustrated, which led him ironically to the key to Mohini’s sexual controls.
“I wish you were a lesbian Mo, then you and I wouldn’t have any problems,” he spat out. “You could do what you want, have a mountain of sex and never get pregnant.”
“A lesbian? That sounds fun,” said Mohini with a bit of feeling for the first time since she had gone under.
“Really?” said Maples, desperate for any solution to making sure Mo didn’t get a bun in the oven. “Would you like me to program you into being a lesbian?”
“Yeah, sounds like a kick,” said Mohini, who despite being completely hypnotized now had a small smile. “I mean, not forever, I do want to get married and have kids someday, but you men are so easy. I can have sex with a man anytime, any where. No challenge.
“Women, that’d be a challange, and I love challenges.
“Particularly all the pretty gymnasts I’ll be living with at the academy. So young, so innocent, they don’t know probably much about sex with men, so to do something so…naughty, with a girl. They’ll feel so guilty about the deed but love the feeling I’ll give them. And I know I’ll be good in bed with girls. I just know it.
“I want to be a lesbian. Right now.”
During her explanation as to why she wanted to be a carpet-muncher, Maples noticed Mohini’s hips bucked slightly as she obviously was turning herself on with the idea of seducing innocent girls into the world of sappho sex.
Dr. Maples was taken aback a bit. Man-hungry Mohini wanted to be a pussy-licker? Maybe deep down Mohini realized that all her sleeping around with men would eventually bring her trouble, and this was her subconscious searching for a way out.
Anyhow, if one was a lesbian, being surrounded by cute gymnasts day and night was a pretty good way to live, Maples thought. Mo might be a wild child but she wasn’t stupid when it came to sex. A lesbian she would be.
“Ok Mo, you will be a lesbian. It’ll take a bit of time to rewire your thoughts towards liking chicks but since you want it we can accomplish it by the time you have to leave for Florida, if we work together.”
“Awesome,” Mohini almost shouted despite still being in a deep trance.
“Now the question is, how long should we set the ‘lesbian clock’ for,” said Maples. “You’re only 16, so what, keep you this way until the end of your career, like nine or 10 years. Maybe set the timer for the end of the 2004 Olympics.”
“Huh, are you kidding?” said Mohini softly but firmly. “You don’t know much about girls gymnasts. After we turn 18 we’re over the hill. The ’96 Olympics is my one and only shot. I’ll be almost 26 by the 2004 Olympics. That’s like a 50-year-old playing for the Cincinnati Reds. It’s simply impossible for a gymnast, even someone as talented as me, to be good enough to be in the Olympics that old.”
“OK, it’s your pussy getting licked,” said Dr. Maples. “How long do you want your ‘lesbianization’ to last.”
“Hmm,” said Mohini as she twitched her Romanesque nose. “Obviously in 1996 as I’ll be the darling of the Olympics. I’m so much better than everyone else it’s not even close. The Russians have this young little snot called Khorkina, I hate her, but she’s not ready yet.
“After the Olympics, I’ll be a big star then so I’ll want to keep a lesbian for a while with all the pretty starlets I’ll meet and I don’t want to settle down so some guy who might be a golddigger can get his hooks on my big money.
“By 2000 I’ll be in college, rich and famous and able to bed any pretty coed I want to. No way I’m not keeping being a dyke then. Too much fun.
“You know what, the 2004 Olympics is a great time to end my lesbianism. I’ll undoubtably be an honored guest in Athens, that’s where they’re going to have it you know, as one of the most beloved athletes in Olympic history.
“By that time I’ll have all that big endorsement money socked away, living high on the hog, unable to walk down a street without people begging for my autograph. Yep, time to settle down. I’ll probably live in a mansion in Hollywood by then. It’d be guy time again.”
“Of course Mo, you might like all that licking,” said Maples, who frankly was getting turned on thinking about Mohini lapping another girl’s slit. “Maybe you’re a closet lesbian and all this sleeping around with men is just a front.”
“Who knows? Just make sure you give me the option to stay gay if I want,” said Mohini. “I’m sure I’ll have a good time with it. You’re the doctor. You figure out the way.”
“OK Mo,” said Dr. Maples as he whipped out the spiral again and put it in front of Mohini’s face, which instantly went blank. “With this, plus some drugs I haven’t used on you yet, you will be playing for the other team soon enough.”
——————————————————————————
“Well, I’ve never gotten pregnant, that part did work,” said Mohini with a bit of a laugh into the phone to the man who had brainwashed her into lesbianism so long ago. “And I did have fun seducing all those gymnasts, and coeds in college, and a lot of other girls, so I was right about that – but not much else.”
“I did notice you were not the new Mary Lou Retton of the ’96 Olympics since you didn’t even make the team, and I guess you’re not rich and one of the most beloved athletes in Olympic history,” said Maples.
Mohini gave a small cackle.
“I was the most popular waitress at the restaurant I was working at six months ago,” she said. “The lesbianism helped a bit, it gave me a safe outlet for all my sexual energy but I had too many issues back then to succeed. My head wasn’t ready for all of this.
“Now, eight years later, I am. I’ve had some real rough patches in my life since I last saw you but now I know there is a reason for everything. The United States didn’t need me in 1996, they won the gold without me, but they definitely did here in Athens. I’m finally at peace with who I am and what I want out of life.”
“Well then the question is “Do you want to lick girls pussies in your peaceful, settled life,” said Maples. “Continue ‘The Illusion’.”
There was no question in Mohini’s mind, at the least the way her mind was currently aligned, what the answer should be.
She loved having sex with women. From the time she had gone to the academy in Florida and began sleeping with innocent gymnasts to boffing a Playmate like Amy Acuff the night before, she had thoroughly enjoyed her lesbianism.
It had consistently been the one part of her up-and-down life she could count on for a positive experience. To stop having girl-on-girl sex was unimaginable, unthinkable. It was a part, a major part, of who she was, what she was about.
But Mohini also remembered those nagging feelings she had the past couple of days. That it was time to open a new chapter in her life, that she done everything possible sexually with women.
And she now knew that her lust for female flesh might be artificial. As fun as it was, and Mohini certainly had enjoyed every second of her many girl sex sessions, she would never be sure if it was her true sexuality poking through or if she was merely acting out what Maples had programmed her to do.
Mohini knew in her younger days she never would have considered stopping having sex with girls. She would be too afraid of what lay ahead in unchartered territory. She would have acted impulsively, I like banging chicks, why stop?
Mohini made what she thought was the mature decision. She had to know if she was really gay or straight or bi or into farm animals. She had to follow the path of the real Mohini, not hide behind a brainwashing that told her how to conduct her private life because it was the easy thing to do.
“No, end The Illusion, it’s time,” she said firmly.
“Are you sure? There’s no turning back,” said Maples. “Your mind will never be as soft or pliable or as willing as it was back when you were 16 and accepted the programming so well. You never can be remade into a pure lesbian ever again.”
Mohini took a deep breath. Her perky breasts almost reached her chin. You’re suppose to be a role model, not a wild child anymore, act like it big shot, she thought, even if it meant possibly ruining her very successful and enjoyable private life.
“I’m sure, I’m ready now, maybe I wasn’t even a few weeks ago, but I’m ready,” stated Mohini. “Do it.”
Maples then said a line of words that sounded like gibberish to Mohini, but she then felt like a bubble just popped in her head.
“The Illusion is over,” he said before hanging up.
———————————————————————————————
After her life-altering phone call, Mohini had to get back to the task at hand, namely, packing her things for the trip back to America the next morning.
She still looked fondly upon all her sexual exploits at the Olympics as her pussy tingled a bit remembering all the tongues that had been in it, but she also wondered how it would have been to ‘do’ Michael Phelps.
Where’d that thought come from?
Her bed was filled with socks and leotards when she heard her door open and then a ‘whoosh’ sound. She turned her head in time to see Carly Patterson do a backflip onto her bed, and socks and sports bras began flying off it.
“Hey, just because you’re the new Mary Lou Retton doesn’t mean you can ruin my packing,” said Mohini a bit more sharply then she meant. Carly was always bouncing into her room, whether to have sex or just to talk about life in general or her now worldwide fame.
“Mary Lou Retton can do anything she wants,” said Carly with a smile. She was wearing a t-shirt with the American flag on it and blue lycra shorts and was barefoot, looking her most cutest and wholesome in front of her lesbian lover.
Suddenly, awareness hit Carly and her face became solemn.
“Oh, I forgot, you were suppose to become the next Mary Lou Retton way back when,” said Carly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. You know that. I’ll show you.”
Carly got to her knees and made her way to Mohini. She gave her a deep, French kiss and then dipped her hand into Mohini’s shorts and found her clit and started gently rubbing it between her fingers.
Mohini gave a quick gasp. Even in her non—hypnotized state getting her love button fondled by a little cutie like Carly Patterson made her hot.
“Oh, OK, Mary Lou, oooohhh that feels so good,” moaned Mohini. “You’re, ah, forgiven.”
Carly took her hand out of Mohini’s pants and gave an electric smile. She then turned around and pulled down her shorts and shook her wonderful butt in Mohini’s face, just like in their first encounter months earlier.
“I don’t know, I’ve been bad,” Carly giggled. “I need to be punished severely, don’t I captain.”
Mohini gave Carly’s butt a couple of playful whacks and Carly yelped her approval.
“I’d love to have more fun Carly but you know we have to get packing, first thing in the morning we’re headed to Athens Airport,” said Mohini, who immediately realized she had changed, she never would have made an excuse, even a good one, to stop having sex with a hot girl before.
“Yeah, I know,” said Carly as she hiked up her shorts. “Anyhow, I came here to talk about sex, not have it.”
“Really?” said Mohini who had no idea what this was about. Carly’s only sexual experience was basically romps with her. “What about sex.”
“Well, I really, really love all the sex we’ve had Mohini, it’s been awesome,” said Carly. “Particularly the anal. But the last week or two I’ve had like boys come up to me and want to go out with me when we get back to the States, maybe not as cute as say Jason Gatson on the men’s (gymnastics) team but still pretty good looking.
“And my agent has me booked for lots of personal appearances and I’m sure I’ll meet some nice boys there too and well…”
“You want to go out on dates with boys and you’re worried I’ll be upset,” said Mohini, who wondered if this was ‘I’m not sure I’m a Lesbian Day’.
“Not at all. I’m glad for our time Carly and, believe me, anytime you want to crawl into my bed you are welcome, but you’re just 16 and need to see the world and try different things. Lord knows I did when I was your age. I understand totally, go out and have a ball, with my blessing.”
Carly smiled and gave Mohini a big hug. The hug continued as Mohini and Carly began pawing at each other’s lithe bodies and then they began passionately kissing each other.
After a minute, Mohini broke off the kiss and went to her drawer and pulled out a strap-on.
“One last time, for good luck?” said Mohini.
Carly squealed and went to her knees on the bed and once again pulled down her shorts and wiggled her rear in Mohini’s direction. Mohini’s could see Carly was already very wet, and Mohini dropped down her shorts as well to reveal her snatch was in the same condition.
“I hope boys like to give me anal as much as you,” said Carly as Mohini began piercing her crack.
“My guess is it won’t be a problem Carly,” said Mohini as she began reaming her butt out.
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The closing ceremonies of the Olympics are much more informal than the Opening Ceremonies. It is more like the end of summer camp as, after the athletes march in, they mix and mingle with each other, showing the world people from different backgrounds can become friends and live in peace and harmony.
Mohini was greeted by all the women she had sex with the past two weeks and was glad to see most of her partners had won medals of some sort as well.
The programmed Mohini would have talked many of her conquests into a quickie under the stands and spent the entire ceremonies having sex, but the new Mohini wanted to bask in her final night as an Olympian. She had worked so hard to get to this point, she wanted to wring every second out of it.
Not that she was now frigid, just mature. She knew there would be plenty of time for sex later that night and she had exchanged addresses and phone numbers with almost all of the women for future rendezvous.
The Indian delegation then surrounded her and begged for her autograph as Mohini was now well-known in the country of her ancestors and considered a big deal.
(Mohini would later on be voted the Indian Abroad Person of the Year)
Suddenly, a very concerned looking Jason Gatson came up to her as the last of the awe-struck Indians peeled away.
Jason was known as the hunk of the USA men’s gymnastics team. He was about 23 with sandy hair and a great physique and had won a silver medal on the uneven bars. All the girls on the team had big crushes on him and even Mohini, though she was deeply under Terrence’s lesbian spell, considered Jason gorgeous, for a guy.
“Mohini, glad I caught up with you,” said Jason anxiously.
“No problem Jason, I’m not going anywhere, I’ve waited eight years for this, I’ll probably be the last one to leave the stadium,” said Mohini. “What’s up?”
“I just, well, I wanted to make sure you were going on the Tour of Champions, that you didn’t have anything else lined up or were going back to school or something.”
Mohini thought this was an odd question. She was the only one on the women’s gymnastic team who was not in school or married. She was the most available of anyone to go on the tour.
“Nope, I’m on the tour from the beginning to the end,” said Mohini. “I’m a single woman you know living on my own. I have bills to pay.”
“Yeah, I asked all the girls on the team and they said you didn’t have a steady boyfriend at the moment,” said Jason, who then had a look of embarrassment for letting Mohini know he had been asking about her personal life. “Well, I’ll see you on the tour then.” And Jason hurriedly walked away.
Mohini didn’t have much time to think about her strange encounter with Jason as swimmers Natalie Coughlin and Amanda Beard stopped by. She HAD to know what the heck she had done during her 12-hour orgy with them and Jennie Finch after they had entranced her.
After they told her the highlights, during which Mohini stood there slack-jawed in amazement she could do such physically impossible things with her little body, she walked over to another group of new friends.
“I can’t believe I still had a pussy after that,” she said to herself.
———————————————————————————-
Epilogue:
Mohini Bhardwaj peered through the curtains with the event director from a corridor underneath the stands as they watched the seats at the Broome County Arena being filled.
The New York state championships were being held there over the weekend and to kick off the festivities Olympic heroine Mohini Bhardwaj had been brought in as a celebrity guest. Today, she was to give an exhibition, speak to the audience and then sign autographs. Lots of them it appeared.
“My hands better be in shape,” thought Mohini as she saw thousands of young girls clutching pictures of her in the stands, all undoubtedly wanting her signature on it.
Mohini was always glad to meet her fans but she was not there entirely out of the goodness of her heart.
While after the Olympics the rest of the sports world had moved on to fixed soccer games, baseball stars on drugs and greedy hockey players and owners; the small world of gymnastics still remembered the incredible comeback of Mohini Bhardwaj and her courageous performance on the balance beam that saved the United States at the Olympics.
Noting her popularity, after the very successful Tour of Champions was completed, the national gymnastics federation had asked Mohini to do something she was a natural at: Make personal appearances around the country and promote the sport with her inspiring story. Of course they would compensate her for her valuable time.
“Wow, I’ve been running this for like 10 years and I’ve never seen anything like it,” said the director. “Every gymnast in Upstate New York must be here – and a lot of them brought the rest of their family.”
“You’re lucky Carly Patterson isn’t here huh, I’m only a silver medal winner,” said Mohini with a smile. The director would report the massive turnout to the federation, which would encourage them to book Mohini for more appearances. The days of having Pamela Anderson give her money were over.
“Are you kidding?” said the director. “All the women on our steering committee demanded you as our first choice. They said in these times the most important thing is for impressionable girls to be exposed to the most positive role model as possible, and that’s you in spades. And obviously all these moms who have shipped their daughters here to meet you agree.”
“Well, thanks,” said Mohini humbly. Yes, she did have her head screwed on straight – now.
But Mohini laughed to herself a bit, thinking about how in her speech she better bypass the part of her life where she was a sexually promiscuous lesbian, or how as a teenager she blew off practices and schoolwork to smoke and hang out in bars and party. Moms probably would not appreciate those life lessons. although it had made her the ‘role model’ she was today.
“Uh, you still want me to do the balance beam. To be honest, I’m a lot better at the vault, that’s why Courtney Kupets was suppose to do it originally.”
“Oh, no way,” said the director. “Everyone wants to see in person the performance that gave the U.S. the silver. It’s a part of gymnastics legend now.”
Mohini shrugged her acceptance. Hey, she was here to entertain, she’d give them what they wanted.
The conversation was then interrupted as a tall, middle-aged man in a fireman’s outfit approached them.
“Excuse me, are you in charge here,” asked the man.
“Yes, what’s the problem? Is there a fire or something here,” said the director nervously.
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m the fire marshal for the county and you are almost at the legal capacity limit,” the fireman said. “There is still a big line of people waiting to get in and we have to shut it off soon for fire safety reasons, so I want you there when we close it off. Explain to all the people who can’t get in.”
Mohini looked at his eyes and thought she saw the director’s pupils actually take the form of dollar signs as he left with the fire marshal.
She was not by herself for long as a security guard shortly approached her.
“Excuse me, you’re Mohini Bhardwaj aren’t you,” said the guard as Mohini nodded yes. “A Miss Smith and a Miss Arnold are at our office saying they are old friends of yours and wanted to say hello before the show.”
Mohini wracked her brain but the names did not ring a bell.
“Sorry sir, never heard of them,” she said.
“Well, and this sounds weird,” said the guard. “They said to tell you that it’s Kathi and Sandi, and both end with an ‘I’.”
Mohini’s eyes flashed wide. NOW she knew exactly who it was. Kathi and Sandi – and the ‘I’ was for intercourse.
Mohini had been competing for UCLA when they had a meet against Penn State.
She had thought Kathi, a cute brunette, was hot and gave her a wink and mouthed across the gym to wait for her after the competition, and she had winked back. Sandi, a taller blonde, had been standing next to Kathi and thought, and hoped, the wink was for her and when she winked as well Mohini knew she was in for a fun night.
Kathi and Sandi had both been very nice girls, Mohini thought, and that night they had gone through every sex toy Mohini had in her room. Mohini couldn’t talk for the next two days due to all the shrieking she had done.
“Oh, why yes, I do know them,” said Mohini. “I’d love to say, um, hello to them.”
A couple of minutes later, two very pretty women in their mid-20’s showed up in the corridor, with a phalanx of 20 girls, average age 11, trailing a couple of yards behind. All were wearing orange sweatsuits with “Syracuse Gymnastics” on the left breast.
“Remember the ‘I’ girls?” asked Sandi, the blonde. Mohini went up to both of them and gave each a big hug. Mohini was glad that even in her wild, hyper sex-crazed youth she had not slept with too many skanks.
“I guess we don’t have to ask what you’ve been up to since we last, uh, met,” gushed Kathi. “As you can see, we’re both still involved in gymnastics, as instructors now.”
“Yeah, we’re both 24 so we were told we were too old to compete anymore,” said Sandi as the three of them laughed.
“So you guys are like, still together,” said Mohini as she arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, no, no, no, it’s not what you think,” said Sandi. “We’re just friends and co-workers. I have a boyfriend and Kathi’s engaged.”
“Yeah, believe me, it was the most fun night of both our lives Mohini but, well, we like guys, sorry,” said Kathi. “You just made us temporary lesbians. Very happy ones though.”
“That’s OK, I’m actually dating a guy myself,” said Mohini as the women showed total surprise on their faces. ”His name is Jason Gatson, he was one of the men on the gymnastic team at Athens.
“He really pursued me during our post-Olympics tour so I figured I’d experiment and see what this heterosexuality thing is all about.”
Mohini knew she had sex with a lot of women during her 9-year tear but the enormity of the amount had not been obvious to her until she had started touring the country.
She estimated at 90-percent of her stops she met at least one woman she had previously had sex with, and that for 90-percent of them it was only time they had slept with another woman, which Mohini took as a compliment.
“We know you’re busy. We just came to say hi and to prove to 20 of your biggest fans that we knew you,” said Sandi motioning to the gaggle of youngsters standing nervously a few yards away.
“Yeah, when we told them we actually knew Mohini Bhardwaj the girls at the gym went nuts,” said Kathi. “They put pictures of you all over the walls and whenever you performed they had their own parties at one of the girls’ houses. They are absolutely dying to meet you.”
Mohini went over to the girls, who stared at her like they were seeing a living God. Most had their mouths open, totally agog. Finally a tow-headed redhead spoke.
“Did you really know Miss Kathi and Miss Sandi in college?”
“Indeed I did, very, very well,” said Mohini as she gave Kathi and Sandi a wink. “As a matter of fact, there is a lesson to be learned in how we met about being good sports.
“When we went against each other in college, I won. Now, Kathi and Sandi could have been sore losers but instead after the meet they decided to make me their friend and I let them come up to my room and play with all my fun toys (Mohini could hear Sandi and Kathi giggling behind her) and we had a very nice time.
“So see, sportsmanship is very important. If Sandi and Kathi had not been good sports, we never would have met and had lots of fun.”
The girls drank Mohini’s words in like there was no other truth.
The public address system announced that there was 15 minutes until the show started. Mohini gave Kathi and Sandi a look showing she had to get ready. Kathi quickly gathered the young girls and led them away to their seats. Sandi lingered a bit.
“Seriously Mohini, it was great to see you again, you are a special person, in many ways, and me and Kathi are glad to know you, in some small way,” said the blonde. “Like, what are you going to do now? You really are getting too old to do this much longer.”
Mohini smiled and laughed, her shimmering dark hair, not yet pulled back for her performance, whipping left and right.
“For the first time in my life I can actually pay all my bills on time so don’t retire me yet,” said Mohini. “Jason wants to try for Beijing in 2008 so he talked me into moving with him to Colorado Springs to train at the Olympic Training Center.
“Watch out, I might be the first gymnast pushing 30 to ever be in the Olympics. Who knows where my sexuality will take me by then. I could do a rim job actually on the Pacific Rim.”
Diary has run out of pages.
(Author’s note: This is the end of Mohini’s tale. If you have read all the chapters thanks for the support. This was an experiment, seeing if a truly inspirational story could be combined with erotica. Sort of a XXX version of Rocky, except with a female lead in the remarkable Miss Bhardwaj, who as of this writing appears to be doing quite well. Of course, if she does make the 2008 Olympic team I’ll have to check her new ‘diary entries’. Feedback appreciated, you can send it to gregg777us@yahoo.com)