Page 28 of Life Lessons

I found this place years ago and it’s been my secret getaway, until now. Music pours through the open windows, strobe lights flashing from inside. I shoulder my drawstring bag containing the two bottles of flavoured water and hand towels I brought for us, something I over-thought too much and almost left behind. Abbie might read into it as some kind of chivalrous bullshit, and sure, if ensuring she doesn’t pass out from dehydration is chivalrous, then fine. I’m chivalrous as shit. But this is still not a date.

Pushing open the metal door, I ease Abbie inside by the small of her back and give her a moment to take in the view. It’s rustic, it’s grimy, it’s perfect. We take the metal staircase down to the lower ground floor, a level below the entrance. Aside from the edges, which are lined with lockers, the entire floor consists of trampolines, as are the walls beneath the walkway. The DJ booth is set on the far side, beside a foam padded and fully stocked bar. Yeah, I’ve been here a few times. Enough to have a gold card that frees me from the usual one-hour jump and drinking restrictions.

“I may have been lingering in the cafeteria for longer than you realized earlier. I overheard Harley mention something about carrying you through the trampolining round for the rally. I reckon you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve, you always have.” I wink at Abbie, her face glowing beneath the disco lights. The smile she gives me is everything. Her eyes are glistening with excitement, flicking between me and the trampolines. “What are you waiting for? Show me your moves.” I spank her ass in the speckled purple lycra, letting the dark boost my confidence. Abbie giggles and kicks off her shoes, literally jumping straight in.

Picking up her discarded sneakers, I place them in a locker with mine and the bag before joining her. She’s already in the centre of the room, her ass and fitted vest gaining the attention of many guys nearby. Her high ponytail swings wildly, reminding me to throw my shoulder length shaggy hair into a top knot. Then, I quickly make my way over, flying from one trampoline to the next.

The rush of air on my arms and legs bolsters my adrenaline, since they’re bare in a Lycra blue t-shirt and my black gym shorts. I’m by Abbie’s side in no time, double bouncing on the same trampoline rectangle so she flies higher on a squeal. I catch her before she lands, pulling her back against my chest. We bounce together gently in the dark, the occasional coloured light passing over us as the heavy bass echoes around the building. With every flex of my legs, my dick rubs against her perfectly rounded ass. I have to pull away, because jumping with an erection is as uncomfortable as everyone seeing it in my shorts. Abbie knows exactly what she’s doing, giggling at me whilst jumping towards the side. I follow, like a dog on a leash, panting and everything.

Reaching some of the angled trampolines at the edge of the huge building, Abbie jumps at one feet first to flip back onto the original trampoline. I knew she had tricks. She’s too unpredictable for presuming otherwise, and from what I’ve seen so far, she doesn’t rely on a man to save her. Especially an egotistical asshole like Harley.

“We used to do gymnastics, and we were great,” she beams before bouncing off. I don’t think Abbie realized that’s the first time outside of my bedroom she’s let it slip about her twin, and I can’t help wondering if it’s an accident or if she’s becoming more comfortable with me. I pause to watch her, one question spinning around my mind. How comfortable is too comfortable? Putting the fact I’m her teacher aside, I don’t get attached to people for a reason.

Low by Flo Rida starts to play and I shake myself back to the moment. Worrying can wait for when I’m alone and unable to sleep without a heavy dose of whiskey. Abbie has stopped to bounce beside an elongated trampoline in front of the DJ booth with a golden yellow safety mat around the outside.

“What’s that for?” she shouts over the nearby speaker.

“It’s a stunt ring. When two people enter, it’s like a jump-off to see who can do the best stunts.” I see her face light up the moment I finish speaking, my hands not quick enough to grab her as she jumps over the mat, landing inside the ring.

“Looks like we have our first challenger of the night!” The DJ roars through his microphone, quieting the music to a low undertone and brightening the lights to a shallow dim. “Who’s going to battle against this beautiful young lady?”

I surge forward the same time a handful of other guys do, throwing myself forward for my feet to land beside hers.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” I mutter before striding away. Her voice just catches my ear in reply.

“Like you always do.” I grin without facing her, the memory of her screaming into a pillow with red marks on her ass and my cock buried to the hilt in her wet pussy coming to mind. She can goad me all she likes, I know the truth.

I turn to face Abbie, a line of spectators having formed on my right. The DJ goes through the rules whilst my eyes are fixed on hers, her determination is sexy as fuck.

“Stunts must take place within the challenge area. If you leave this area, you forfeit. You’ll each do a stunt, one after the other, ladies go first. The winner is determined by the audience at the end of the 90-second timer. Any questions? No? Good. Let’s do this!” The screen on the front of the booth brightens with the timer, cheers sound just before a foghorn indicates for us to start.

For a second my heart starts to race, and the pounding of the base accelerates my heart rate to the point I feel as though I’m going to have a panic attack. What the fuck am I doing? I haven’t done any gymnastic moves since she left me. The nearest I‘ve ever come is the flip I just did not five minutes ago.

But then, I look over at the bright, carefree face of my opponent and it occurs to me that I’m not on the verge of a panic attack, I’m just excited. How fucked up am I that I can recognise despair and anxiety easier than I can happiness? I push that out of my mind, thats a thought for a therapist my parents would pay a fuck-ton of money for. Right now, I just want to enjoy a sport I used to be good at.

The DJ announces that the contest will start, and my eyes glance over to the timer that will begin counting down any second. I recognise the song the instant it begins, it was one of Tillie’s favourites. Girlfriend by Pussycat Dolls, an oldie but a goodie. It almost seems iconic to be bouncing in my first mini-challenge without her, but using the song she would pick. As the words get into full swing and it becomes obvious to the gathering crowd what the song is, I hear the loud klaxon indicating it’s time for me to start. I risk a small glance over to my opponent and offer him a little wink before showing him what I can do.

I waste little time doing only a few warm up bounces to give me the height I need before going into my first stunt. I start off easy, as I’m not even sure Jett can match my easy mode, plus I like to be underestimated. Well...that and I have no idea how my busted leg will cope with doing these types of moves again. But we will soon find out.

I keep my body completely straight, my arms tucked by my side as I perform a straight backwards whip. It may look like a simplistic move but being able to whip your legs over your head and keep your body entirely straight and aligned whilst doing it takes skill. It’s also something that is well received by the crowd of supporters. They roar and clap, but Jett wastes no time with his retaliation move.

Before I’ve even had a chance to recognise that the crowd is cheering me, Jett starts to bounce. His powerful legs gave him a height I could only dream of. He does a couple of short but high bounces over to the curved trampolines that line the wall. Bending his knees he pushes off hard and reaches out with one of his legs. He uses the momentum from that leg to propel himself backwards, ensuring to get in almost two corkscrew twists as he does.

Fuck, that was by far the hottest thing I have ever seen. Jett always manages to take me by surprise, but this is something all new entirely. If I thought the cheer I got was loud, they nearly take the roof off with his move, and I notice that more and more people are gathering. He saunters back to his original position, a cocky grin on his face, and I know I have to beat him. He has laid down the gauntlet and there is no fucking way I’m letting him beat me. The corkscrew may be one of the most complex individual skills that can be done on a trampoline, but it is by no means the hardest routine.

I begin my warm up bounces quickly, bending my knees and pushing off as hard as I can. That old burn I remember so well begins to rip through my thighs, and it’s so familiar that I almost ache from it’s absence in my life. But it doesn’t cause the pain I expect to feel from pushing my recovering leg too far, which means I can safely keep going.

It doesn’t take me long to get the height I need and I begin my flip sequence. I start with a double front flip, ensuring that my body is tucked tightly into the pike position, but when I get all the way around for a second time and I’m getting ready to hit my landing, I let the momentum propel me. Only when I’m in a horizontal line do I remain as tight and straight as possible, ensuring that when I land on the trampoline, I do so on my front.

Using my chest muscles, and ignoring the pain I feel roaring through my tits from the impact, I push myself up and flip backwards into a standing position. It’s not the easiest of moves, and it is a crowd pleaser, but definitely not something that beats Jett’s corkscrew. As Jett begins an elaborate flipping routine I look over at the clock. The seconds tick by at a crazy fast speed and I realise that when Jett finishes this bounce we will only have time for one more. I need to make it a good one.

I watch as Jett completes his moves and I can’t help but admire his athletic body. I obviously know he is ripped because I spend many hours tracing his hard lines with the tip of my finger as I lay with my head on his chest. But, to be honest, I thought he drank way too much alcohol and lazed about far too much to ever be able to do something like this. The fact this trampoline park has its own bar is not lost on me. I know Jett is in pain and that one day I will have to talk to him about his drinking, but today is not that day. Besides, I have noticed he has cut down a lot when he’s with me. It’s like he knows I hate tasting it on his lips.

As Jett finishes the flip sequence that was very similar to mine, he gives me his cocky smile and I know I need to pull out something good. I know he’s pushing me, trying to bring out my competitive side, and he just got his wish.

I waste little time getting into my move, doing only a couple of little bounces to give me the momentum I need. I bounce towards the wall of trampolines, and when I am near enough I turn slightly and start by doing a freehand cartwheel, which basically means I don’t use my hands as I flip over like a rolling wheel. Then as my first foot hits the floor I make sure to bend my knee and push into the direction I want. My other leg passes over my head and I use my upper body and arms to begin to twist. I flip off the side trampoline into a corkscrew, but I make sure to include an extra three-hundred and sixty degree twist compared to the one Jett did. I know that move on it’s own is a winner, but I need to be sure. So, instead of landing on my feet, the way I would normally stick it, I let my body fall. Keeping it perfectly straight, I fall backwards until my back hits the mat. The force from the triple twister gives me the impact I need to push myself back up and propel my body forward into a triple forward somersault. My knees are held tightly up against my chest and I curl up into a ball as much as possible. The smaller I make myself the more rotation I am able to get.

I thought I would only be able to pull off a double. That’s the most somersaults I had ever managed from a falling position. Normally I need the height from a jump. Not to mention that it’s been just over a year since I stepped foot onto a trampoline. I think the determination to prove I am still capable, combined with the competition element, allows me to push my body further than ever before.

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