Did I, a modest figure skater , think that Olympic champions in skiing from Norway and speed skaters from the Netherlands would let me go around when I made my way with my boyfriend to compete in Beijing ? Of course not.
But the Olympics is not your usual boring sports camp . It's a holiday where things don't go as planned . This happens once in a lifetime .
In the morning, my teammates and I were going down to the dining room, sleepy , when we were surrounded by tall, broad-shouldered blondes . One of them , Olaf , spoke English, but so slowly and gallantly that I understood . He kept stroking my waist with his hands . First with one hand, then the other , as if we were old friends .
From the sagging backs and shabby ass of my friends, I realized that they also like this kind of attention .
We could not communicate with representatives of other teams because of the coronavirus, but I literally melted from the touch of a radiantly smiling and such a social Olaf . He joked with his friends , telling how they like Beijing and what an important start they have tomorrow . And he constantly removed his hand from my back , then again held it under the shoulder blades , where I have an erogenous zone .
, I had to rush to breakfast before the coach or my boyfriend and at the same time figure skating partner fired me up . On the other hand, Olaf spoke so interestingly with a European accent about their chances of winning .
We didn't say much because of the language barrier , but we giggled and laughed a lot . Three of his friends Johannes , Erik and Ole were also worth a visit . Everything is like a match with perfectly even Hollywood smiles , blond thick hair , standing stake , tall . Athletic bodies in expensive tracksuits in national Norwegian colors . And sportswear . I love looking at the hips of guys in sportswear .
Well, you know , when this elastic tubercle is visible .
And my gaze ran in a shuttle run between Olaf's shining eyes , which, like a gentleman, looked only into my eyes and his plane , where jeans usually have a fly , and sportswear has just a plane with a relief translucent manhood .
Johannes , Eric and Ole were already flirting with Julia and Dasha . I tried to communicate with the tall leader of the Norwegian ski team , but my eyes squinted at their strong hands , bare beautiful legs in size forty-six slippers .
I was already a little embarrassed, because I couldn’t really say something and blushed from the fact that he noticed that I was staring at his penis .
I understood that I was getting turned on and my nipples were already standing under the Olympian , but I could not do anything .
I looked into his sparkling blue eyes . Olaf said something. I , like a complete fool , did not understand anything , but smiled at him in response and could not control my gaze , which nervously slid down to him on the hook rising under the thin fabric of sweatpants .
The three of them freely took hands , touched Yulia and Dasha . They stood so close that the priests of our one and a half meter girls touched their legs from time to time .
The Scandinavians were not intrusive , like some Caucasians , rather the opposite . They were emphatically small talk on distant topics like food in China and the design of the bus in which we were taken to the competitions , but there was so much sex in them …
Powerful , stately , contact , rich , and we are in front of them – half-mute, flat-chested, small fools .
I decided to say at least something smart , but blurted out only stupid :
– Ours will overtake you.
Olaf and his friends instantly neighed .
– Let's bet !? If we overtake the guys from your country , then in the evening you will come to our party!
I tried to laugh it off , but the girls smiled like whores and said “yes yes yes” .
And Johannes raised his hand for us all to give him five to confirm the bet .
Yulia and Dasha immediately slapped him on the huge hand.
I also did this and immediately felt Johannes quietly, barely perceptibly, hug my palm with his giant five . It was so…hot . My chest was already heaving like a wheel , and it was like an electric shock.
The guys left. Discussing something already in Norwegian . It was completely impossible to understand . We exchanged glances with the girls, hardly tearing our eyes away from their huge pumped up stone asses moving away .
We went to eat in the dining room looking forward to a delicious Olympic breakfast and a savory discussion of these guys .
Giggling , we swallowed freshly squeezed orange juices , looking at the unreal Poles of Canadian bobsledders .