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I thrust forward a final time, grunting my orgasm into Karolina’s ear as a quart of spunk flowed out of me and into her sucking pussy. The gorgeous and famous celebrity athlete I’d only met just last night clutched at me with all four limbs, holding me tightly as if she never, ever wanted to let me go. She crooned her own climax into my ear and our bodies thrashed violently together until our energy ran out and we collapsed together, sweaty and satisfied.
I moaned as I set my forehead down on the mattress over her left shoulder. The rest of my weight sagged onto her chest, but she didn’t complain. Indeed, she seemed to hold me even tighter. And the pair of us remained in that position for what felt like a long, long time, neither of us wanting to be the first to let go.
I *felt* something with her, but my cynical brain scoffed at the idea of love at first sight. Eagerness-to-do-it-again-after-spectacular-ejaculation more like it, and yet I felt a… sadness… I hadn’t felt with almost anyone before.
It was a strange juxtaposition to feel this sad so soon after such a spectacular fuck, but I quickly realized I felt this way because I knew our time was up. That, in and of itself, was weird. After all, I’d been quite fond of Anneke, and yet waking up all alone in the morning with nothing but a good-bye note hadn’t bothered me in the slightest. I’d gone downstairs and hooked up with the Brazilian twins almost right away.
So for me to be sad about parting from Karolina? Well, that meant that sometime in the space of a few hours I’d developed like… *feelings*… for her. Feelings? Really? What, like this world-famous tennis star and I were about to become boyfriend/girlfriend? Wake up and smell the bagels and lox, dude. She went to a nice club looking to get laid, and she did. Now the morning is here, and you’ll just be another footnote in her history.
But if I meant so little to her, why was she still holding onto me?
Could it mean…?
Nah, I didn’t dare to hope.
But that didn’t mean I was letting go, either.
Eventually, my cock shriveled up and slipped out of her now-worn pussy. Eventually, I picked my face up off the sheets, daring to look her in the eyes. I saw the same uncertainty I felt reflected in her gaze, and I finally worked up the gumption to ask her if she could see us meeting up again.
But before I could open my mouth, she spoke first. “That was really nice,” she murmured, still staring deep into my eyes.
“It was,” I replied lamely, not able to think of anything better to say.
She studied me for another moment, and only then seemed to realize just how heavy I was. I saw her struggle for her next breath and instinctively raised myself up and off her. Her hands guided me into a roll, and I wound up lying on my hip beside her naked body, and with a sigh she turned her face away from me.
(That’s it, dude. Game over for you.)
She seemed to confirm my thoughts as she took a deep breath and then rolled out of my bed. Her hands first went to the tissue box on my nightstand, grabbing a couple of Kleenex to blot up the mess leaking out between her legs. She then glanced around for her purse and clothes, collecting them silently before sitting on the bed nonchalantly and pulling on her panties in a comfortable but plainly efficient manner.
“Will I ever see you again?” I asked, my voice cracking. I immediately blushed in embarrassment for sounding like a pre-teen dweeb.
She turned her head to me and flashed a smile at my voice. But there was a sadness in her eyes as she shrugged and shook her head. “Probably not.”
My heart fell with a thud somewhere around my spleen. “Oh.”
She shrugged. “Hey, I had a good time last night… and this morning. Didn’t you?”
I nodded firmly. “I did.”
“Then enjoy it for what it was, a great time. Isn’t that what this Olympic experience is all about?”
“Well…” I hedged. “I DID come here with specific *swimming* goals in mind.”
“And you achieved them. Now it’s your time to celebrate. I know what it’s like to train so hard for an event like this. It’s a lonely road, working from 6am to 9pm every day it feels like. There’s no time to go out and meet people, to just socialize for fun. But you’ve won now, the next tournament… excuse me… swim meet won’t be until… when?”
“A long time,” I replied, having forgotten myself.
By now, Karolina had on both bra and panties, and she was shrugging into her wrinkled little black dress. Her makeup was a mess, as was her hair, and with the cocktail outfit there would be no question what she’d been up to the previous night. But she looked like embarrassment was the last thing on her mind. After she slipped her arms through the shoulder loops, she turned to me and then patted my knee. “The pressure is off. There are THOUSANDS of horny young athletes out there looking to celebrate just as much as you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
I blushed. “Uh, well.”
“When are you leaving the Village?”
“Not until after bursa escort the Closing Ceremonies.”
“Perfect. Then you’ve got a whole week of partying to do.”
“You *guess*? You heard about Mr. Incredible four years ago, right? He paraded himself down the middle of the Athlete’s Village wearing absolutely nothing but his eight gold medals, his arms spread wide as he shouted out loud, ‘Who wants a piece of history?'”
“He had a lot of takers,” I said with a chuckle, having heard the stories.
“That he did. Now you’re not him, and you don’t have eight of those suckers, but one is certainly good enough, and I really think you should enjoy yourself.”
She gave me a wan smile. “We had fun, but let’s not overcomplicate things. I’m leaving in a few hours anyway, heading home to train for the next tournament.”
“You’re not sticking around? What about that little speech of staying in the Village and letting loose?”
She shook her head while pulling on her high heels. “Life is different for me. I’ve got a packed schedule, and since my Olympics are done, I’ve got to get on the road and get into the US hard court season.”
I whimpered. “Can I at least get your number?”
Karolina smiled, but hesitated. Her lips parted for just a moment, but she then took a deep breath and lowered her gaze to the floor. And in a quiet voice, she replied, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
If my heart had fallen down to my spleen before, now it dropped to… well, you don’t WANT to know where it dropped to. “I see,” I replied in a weighted voice.
She patted my knee once more, and then leaned over and pecked my cheek. And with one final sigh she got up, clutching her purse, and then opened my bedroom door, heading straight for the bathroom off the living room.
Turns out, Tyler, Preston, and Jacob were all in the living room. I would later find out that they’d hooked up with a group of London fangirls, partied until 3am, and then come home to sleep things off. Tyler had peeked into the room before figuring out I had a girl with me and then magnanimously slept on the couch rather than intrude. But this morning’s romp with Karolina had woken them all up, and now that my bed partner had finally emerged, all three of them went from curious to downright SHOCKED at who had walked out my door.
Karolina gave them a polite smile and a wave, saying, “Hi, guys.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom to fix up her makeup, closing the door behind her.
And since I closed my bedroom door and locked it, retreating to be by myself for a bit, that was the last time I saw her.
I played it cool with the guys, play-acting as the gentleman who didn’t want to tell-all about the lady. They more or less left me alone after that, although I heard Preston mumble “Holy-fucking-KaroLINA” a time or two days later. But I remained in something of a funk for the next couple of hours, going down to a café by myself to get breakfast and then leaving the Village to check out a few more sporting events (Olympic, not sexual) since I had the time.
I missed her, but I told myself not to miss her, and I reminded myself of what she’d told me about celebrating and enjoying myself for the rest of my time here. Yesterday, the idea of meaningless sex with hot athletes was a real turn-on, and I tried to rediscover that mental aspect as I went out of my way to ogle the hot chicks I saw and think about what it would be like to get into their panties.
On a whim, I ended up at the indoor volleyball arena, and wouldn’t you know it, Brazil was playing. Front and center were Leticia and Larissa, bounding about, diving for loose balls, and elevating over and over again for blocks and strikes. The Brazilian team wore bright yellow and green uniforms that reminded me so much of the twins’ color-coordinated G-strings. Their shorts were REALLY short, molding around their butt cheeks in a way that couldn’t help but remind me of what it had been like to part those clefts with my blood-engorged cock. And wouldn’t you know it, I ended up with an erection.
I stuck around long enough to watch the Brazilians win their match and advance out of the preliminaries and into the knockout rounds. I thought about going to see the twins for a moment, maybe see if they recognized me, but instead I decided to head home and see what else the Village had to offer.
I headed into a tea house close by to the Asian area, this time with my Gold Medal proudly hanging from my neck. The girl behind me in line asked what event I’d won for, and we struck up a conversation. Fifteen minutes later, I was sipping at a mug of cha while the South Korean diver I’d just met was swallowing the load of sperm I was currently spilling down her gut.
She told me she couldn’t fuck me, not until after the 10-meter platform competition at least. But she thanked me for my load, saying that she had a superstition that drinking the cum of a gold medalist would help her perform better at the 3-meter springboard competition she had that afternoon.
After bursa escort bayan leaving her room, I went down the elevator intent on finding some new pussy and actually getting to FUCK something. But when the doors opened at the lobby, two little girls hopped in, saw the medal around my neck, and immediately latched onto my arms.
Their English was shit, and they mostly babbled in Mandarin at each other. But they didn’t let me get out of the elevator and after jabbing a couple of different buttons on the controls, I got the general idea that they were trying to sneak me around their extremely strict Chinese coaches.
We wound up getting off on the seventh floor, these two little girls dragging me down the hallway with their intentions quite clear. I wanted to get laid, but as I looked down at their sub-5-foot frames, I started to get a little worried. I didn’t really know what the age of consent was in Great Britain, but my American upbringing had instilled quite the fear of pedophilia. When we got to an apartment, I refused to go inside until both girls INSISTED they were 18-years-old, and could produce documents if necessary to prove this.
One of them had her hands in my shorts, stroking me as she insisted this, so I really didn’t argue too much. The upshot is that I wound up flat on my back while these two Chinese dynamos went to work on me, teaming up to fuck my brains out while they bent themselves into all sorts of positions that didn’t seem humanly *possible*, let alone physically comfortable. I mean, at one point, the girl had her CHIN on the floor while she curved herself BACKWARDS into a full circle with her toes on the carpet to either side of her face.
Hey, her pussy was in the right place.
Thing is, word must have gotten out to their teammates, because at some point I realized there were FIVE Chinese gymnasts running around the room throwing themselves on my prick, wherever they could fit it. Think a 4’8″, 80-pound girl can’t take an eight-inch dick up her ass? Think again. And they kept doing some crazy clamping thing with their hands on my balls to keep me from shooting off while I fucked them, so even though we must have been in that room for nearly two hours, I actually only ejaculated twice in that whole time while barely losing my erection.
What the hell was in the tea they served here?
Hours later, I woke up completely alone in that apartment. The sun had already set and I’d been washed, re-dressed in my clothes, and put into the bed. I later found out that the apartment had been vacated the day prior, and the Chinese girls had simply jimmied the lock to get inside.
There was also an ache in my balls that REALLY felt uncomfortable.
The next day, the swimming competition wrapped up with the final Medley Relays. My ball-ache had thankfully gone away, and both the US Men’s and Women’s teams got together for a big celebratory party that REALLY got out of hand.
Mr. Incredible and his retinue disappeared, but about 80% of the US swimmers stuck around and then got naked. The orgy was pretty incredible, and at one point I quite literally fucked the entire Women’s Medley Relay Team back-to-back-to-back-to-back (or is that back-to-breast-to-fly-to-free?). It was awesome enough that the breaststroker and freestyler both invited me to find them again in the lavatory on the plane ride home.
And at that point, I was only halfway through the Games.
Over the next several days, I had more sex in more varieties than at any other period of my life. People called the Athlete’s Village the world’s biggest dormitory, and that seemed a fairly apt description. There were literally tens of thousands of people living all in one fenced-in area, free from cameras, fans, and even parents. The vast majority of those people were between the ages of 18 and 25, mostly single, and mostly looking for a good time.
They say Olympic athletes do everything in the extreme. They train harder than anyone else on the planet, and once their competition is done, they PARTY harder than anyone else on the planet. Ordinary folks go out for a couple of beers – an Olympian goes for 20. Ordinary folks hit up a bar and look for a one-night stand – an Olympian is looking for the ULTIMATE one-night stand. Being in the Athlete’s Village is most likely a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and we want to make our memories count. There’s no tomorrow, there’s little chance of ever coming back again. We live full speed so that we don’t regret the unlived life.
With each passing day, more and more athletes finished their competitions and turned their attention to partying. Those unlucky few who still had events to perform would board their shuttles to get ferried off to their respective arenas while their friends were just coming HOME after being out all night. While nobody was quite willing to blow off their event just to get laid, many of them decided, ‘What the hell? I’m not gonna win a medal anyway. Might as well enjoy myself!’
And if an athlete wanted to make a once-in-a-lifetime Olympic memory, why escort bursa not do it with an Olympic Gold Medalist? Sure, with each new day there was a new crop of gold medalists, but we were still an exceptionally rare breed. I found myself a highly-sought after commodity, and being a tall, handsome, well-muscled swimmer was just a bonus.
There was the Australian beach volleyball pair who didn’t make it out of the preliminaries and kept me in their room all night as a consolation prize to themselves.
There was the rhythmic gymnast from Kazakhstan who seemingly could hold onto the shower rod indefinitely while I pounded up into her from below.
And there were the THREE Romanian rowers with incredibly powerful muscles who more or less fucked MY brains out. One of them was a butch lesbian, and I was under strict orders not to touch her. But she had no problem working together with me to tag-team one of her mates.
Then there was Sophie, the lovely British lass competing in the equestrian events who insisted she had fallen in love with me, talked incessantly about bringing me home to Kensington to meet her parents, and stayed in my room for two nights and a day offering her body up to me in any way at my slightest whim. Tyler had already gone home, leaving me the room all to myself. And Sophie simply pushed the two beds together and brought over all her belongings, ignoring every protest from her coaches and trainers. It was LOVE. We were MEANT TO BE.
Nevermind that I continually insisted that this was just an Olympic fling, nothing more. My protests were only half-hearted. After all, crazy chicks are INSANE in bed.
Still, she started dragging on me by following night. I left the apartment and went hunting for fresh pussy, thinking she would take the hint when I returned home with someone else. But Sophie insisted that we were meant to be together, even when I brought home a Jamaican track star who wanted to see my pale cock sliding between her chocolate thighs. And I have to tell you that the threesome that followed was pretty incredible.
But then the morning after, something clicked in Sophie’s fucked-up brain, and Sophie decided she WASN’T in love with me anymore and she left with all her bags within five minutes to go out there and experience even more.
So it was back to the party for me. I drank, I had sex, and then I slept and did it all over again. My coach wasn’t a problem, not after I walked into his room and found him banging a field hockey chick doggy-style on his couch. Nevermind that he was a married father of three and that the field hockey chick was probably the age of his eldest daughter. This was the Olympics, and what happens in the Athlete’s Village, STAYS in the Athlete’s Village.
And then all too soon, it was time for the Closing Ceremonies.
Bittersweet to end our stay here, yeah. But hey, they weren’t kicking us out of the village until tomorrow. And I was told to expect one hell of an After Party.
The French footballer (that’s soccer chick in American) above me might have said something a little more comprehensible, but with her thighs clamping down around my ears, I couldn’t hear very well. No matter. I knew she was having a good time, since I had to hold onto her legs to keep her from bucking off my face. And after adjusting my grip to keep her pinned down on me, I resumed wrapping my tongue around her prominent clit.
Meanwhile, the Finnish pole vaulter kneeling over my lap continued bobbing her head up and down, taking my eight inches deep into her throat every so often, sucking off every drop of pussy juice the Japanese marathoner had left smeared around the base of my cock.
My Village experience with sex up to this point had remained largely private, behind closed doors. Sure, there were the adventurous couples who frolicked on their balconies, most of them time (but not always) the balconies that didn’t face somewhere a distance camera could catch them. But by and large, while everyone KNEW everyone was hooking up all throughout the Village, it had never been completely out in the open.
Also, my varied hookups to this point had been like diplomatic encounters, a meeting between two nations for mutual benefit. Whether it was Asher and I taking turns with the Brazilian twins or even just me trapped in an abandoned apartment by those Chinese gymnasts, the sex had always been limited to two pre-existing parties.
Not tonight. The French footballer had never met the Finnish pole vaulter before tonight, and neither of them had met the Japanese marathoner. The only thing all three had in common (besides being decidedly female… well… and being *horny*) was that all three had only recently finished their last events. While the rest of the Athlete’s Village had been partying for over two weeks to this point, these three were trying to make up for lost time, and it didn’t really matter that they didn’t know their new partners (or me). In fact, NOBODY at this party seemed to care. When French footballer screamed out ANOTHER orgasm, she finally toppled off my face. And I looked up just in time to see Japanese marathoner stagger over to another couple before grabbing the guy’s face and promptly sticking her tongue in his mouth.
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