ESPN’s article about the rampant debauchery sure to be
taking place this weekend in Olympic Village has given me the biggest flashing
green light to put a voice to the fantastical wonderland of sexy fun I’ve
always imagined it to be. I mean, my
god, how could it not be? In fact I think it’s wildly hypocritical to ignore
the obvious. Athletes are amazingly in
touch with their bodies and what they can do with them. Hmmm…. let’s see. What do people tend to do with their bodies?
So I’m as patriotic as the next red blooded American and I appreciate
the sentimental image we all cherish of the stoic and dedicated athletic
hero. But what about all that sexy muscle
saturated in adrenaline? That’s going to
make for some very healthy libidos.
If only I could find a way into the biggest party noted for
the most washboard abs per square foot in the universe. It might just be worth picking up
archery. (As I crack open this bag of
Cheetos) I mean, there can’t be an age
limit for holding a bow and arrow, right?
;)
It Takes a Village
Copyright Alyssa Turner, 2012
“Is that a fish?” The name on his warm up jacket says Diederich
and the look on his face says that he doesn’t understand a word she’s
said. “On your chest.” She points to it, grazing her finger over the
tail as someone bumps her from behind.
He smiles and pulls the German flag on his warm up jacket away a little
more.
It is a fish. She can
see it better now, especially since he’s flexed his pectoral a little to make
it swim.
“Ha, neat trick.”
Maybe he knows who she is. In the
US, she’s suddenly a household name for the two gold medals she won on beam and
floor exercise. Just in case, she’d
better introduce herself. She has to
yell because the Brazilians are pumping their brand of hip-hop at full
tilt in the crowded hallway. “I’m Cait.”
He nods. “Cait Mi-zi-ohh-la”
She shrugs. “Close
enough.”
“Lukas … Luk,” he says tapping the fish with his index
finger a few times.
“Nice to meet you.”
Someone bumps her again, shoving her into his arms and it
occurs to her that she’s the only one blushing.
Unfair advantage. But this
isn’t about fairness is it? This is about the last night in the Olympic Village
and the looming promise of swift goodbyes in the fuzzy light of the morning.
Her voice flutters. “I
saw you swim. Bronze, not bad.”
His turn to shrug. And
then he has his fingers in her hair and creeping up the nape of her neck. “Gold,”
he whispers. “You are gold.”
Unrushed, but inevitable none-the-less, he eases his hot tongue
into her mouth. Their kiss makes up for
their clumsy words. Words are over-rated
anyway.
But then there is German being spoken around her and Luk
takes a last slurp of her bottom lip before turning his head towards his
teammate.
It isn’t clear at first, what they are saying. Then Luk tucks his finger under her chin, his
purple lips pursed with a hopeful question on them. “More?”
She’d never turned from a challenge before. More reps, more rotations, more, more,
more. Now the question hangs in the air
in front of her like a bright ripe cherry.
With growing confidence, Cait reaches over to the zipper
pulled high on the other swimmer’s chest.
As she tugs it down, the grin is spreading on his razor clean face. She’ll keep it simple. “Yes, please.”
___
This is just a start. Do you ever imagine what goes on after dark in the Olympic Village? It's definitely something to think about.
