I had two Olympics tickets in my hands. They weren’t the greatest seats and it was a morning athletics session of qualification rounds. But that didn’t matter. I was going to the London Olympics and I knew who I wanted to take with me.
When I called Heather I could hear the excitement in her voice. Was that due to the Olympics, or the excuse she now had to escape her normal life for a day and spend it with me? Probably a bit of both I concluded.The Olympics were a once in a lifetime experience, and opportunies for us to spend time together were few and far between.
I met Heather under the giant Olympic rings at St Pancras station. As I kissed Heather I ran my hands over her body. She was wearing a red patterned summer dress that hugged her curves and showed her body off to perfection. As my hand traversed the small of her back down to her bum I could not feel the telltale waistband of a pair of panties or a thong. I felt my cock stir and Heather felt it too.
“Not yet, cheeky,” she smiled as she spoke in a whisper “we have a long day ahead of us.”
I kissed her again.
“Yeah watching athletics can be pretty tiring.”
I took Heather’s hand.and led her along the concourse towards the platform. My heart fluttered with excitement about what the day ahead had in store for us.
The Javelin train took just 6 minutes to take us to the Olympic Park. As we walked to the entrance of the park Heather squeezed my hand and our lips met for a kiss. Our first glimpse of the inside of the Olympic Stadium took my breath away. When you find yourself in the midst of something you’ve seen on tv it’s a disconcerting experience, but thrilling. As the games-maker clad in his aubergine and orange uniform directed us to our seats I stole a kiss on Heather’s neck, just under her jaw.
I knew from the price that our seats wouldn’t be front row seats. In fact it was the opposite. We were high up in the back row. As we took our seats I turned to see if Heather was disappointed. She placed a hand gently on each of my cheeks and gave me a long kiss. I smiled. This was going to be an amazing day.
I draped a union jack across my lap, ready to celebrate some British success. But as first the women’s javelin and then the triple jump saw Brits make an early exit, Heather could clearly sense a touch of disappointment in me. Her right hand rested on my left thigh and gently rubbed in a comforting manner. Then it moved slightly to the right and Heather’s little finger was now rubbing my cock through the union jack and the shorts beneath. My cock stiffened, pressing against my clothing. I leaned over to her and our lips met for a kiss before we both turned our attention back to the sport.
A short while later the heats of the men’s 110m hurdles began on the far side of the stadium. There were no British medal hopes but nonetheless the thrill of seeing men running and hurdling at such speeds was immense. During the second heat I felt Heather’s hand slip under my union jack and unzip my shorts. My cock immediately stiffened once more, and Heather slowly eased it free and wrapped her slender fingers around it. I turned to look at her but her gaze was fixed across the stadium in the direction of the hurdlers. I glanced around and everyone was looking in that direction, which was just as well. Because with her thumb circling the tip of my cock, her fist slowly working its way up and down my shaft, and the inherent inappropriateness of what was happening, I was not sure how long I could last.
With the final heat over and the qualifiers announced everyone applauded. Heather withdrew her hand and joined the applause. She glanced down at my lap where my cock was acting as a tent pole for the union jack. She chuckled and I crossed my legs in an attempt to disguise that my cock was rock hard and primed.
Next up was the first round of the men’s 200m. If the 110m hurdles had captured the attention of the stadium it was nothing compared to this. The first heat featured Usain Bolt. The fastest man alive. Just two days before he had retained his 100m title with a stunning run. As the athletes took to the blocks I felt Heather’s hand slip around my cock again. Just holding me in her hand. I concentrated on trying to hold back my orgasm. The race itself was a procession. With 50 metres to go Bolt eased up and won comfortably. Heather ran a fingernail up my shaft and over my tip. I shivered involuntarily. During the next heat Heather began running her fist up and down my length. Again no-one was looking at anything other than the race. I knew my face must have been flushed, but I hoped people would put it down to the action on the track rather than the action in my lap. As Lemaitre stormed to victory I knew that time was short.
Next up was Yohan Blake. He is one of the men on Heather’s list of permitted celebrity fucks. As he was shown on the big screen her fist tightened around my cock. So very very tight. As the gun went she began wanking my cock vigorously. Faster and faster. She was cheering Blake on. I was pushing myself back in my seat. It was a photo finish. Whether Blake came first or I did I am not sure. But as the cheers erupted around the stadium my cum erupted all over Heather’s fist and the union jack.
Heather kissed me. Our tongues lightly playing on one another. Her left hand deftly wiped her other hand and my cock clean on the union jack. On how many levels was that wrong? Forgive me your majesty. Heather slipped my cock back in my shorts and zipped me up.
The final heat of the 200m featured Brit, Christian Malcolm. He started well, and at halfway he was in the lead. As he headed down the home straight Heather grabbed the cum soaked flag from my lap and began waving it. There are two unmistakable smells in my experience. Marijuana and cum. The smell of cum was heavy in the air as she waved that flag. She was ecstatic as Malcolm crossed the line in second and qualified for the semis. My cock was also in a semi as my erection subsided. Heather looked at my groin and in the same instant we both spotted a pearl of cum on my shorts.
“Darling I can’t take you anywhere. You spilt mayo down yourself at Maccy D’s.”
She wiped the cum up with a finger and slowly and sexily she licked it off. To her left a man smiled at me. He knew. I’m sure he knew.
—————-
My mind was all over the place as we walked out of the stadium. What had just happened seemed so surreal, and yet it had happened. As we walked through the massive Olympic Park I regained some semblance of equilibrium. The 20 minutes it took to queue for and eat some fish and chips was long enough to bring me back to normality. The events in the stadium now seemed like a dream. A wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless.
We took a leisurely stroll around all of the Olympic venues, lapping up the colourful multicultural buzz that only the Olympics can provide. The Dutch in their orange shirts, the boisterous Hungarians coming out of the handball arena, and the massed ranks of Polish fans entering the water polo arena were particularly conspicuous among the thousands and thousands of fans milling about. The largest contingent by far, quite naturally, were the British fans. And every Union Jack I saw gave me a tiny jolt back in time to earlier in the Olympic Stadium. Heather meanwhile was devouring the daily guide to the games.
With the sun now shining we made our way through beautifully landscaped flower beds and down to the River Lea. The Lea runs through the middle of Olympic Park, from the main stadium at one end to the hockey stadium at the other. During the Olympics, as it passed through the centre of the park there was a massive double sided screen showing key action as it happened. Thousands of people were sitting on the grass either side of the river enjoying the weather, the Olympic vibe and the sports action.
Heather and I found a spot on a level piece of ground with a good view of the screen. I don’t quite know how long we sat there sipping a cool beer or two, chatting, occasionally pausing to watch the sports action. An unexpected dressage gold for Team GB led to raucous celebrations from the watching Brits, most of whom I’d wager had never watched dressage before. But that didn’t matter. Britain was in the middle of a period of national euphoria and every gold was another cause for celebration. Heather joined in the spirit of it by wrapping her arms around me and planting a big kiss on my lips.
“We are amongst thousands of people and you know what?”
I remained silent
“No-one is interested in us.”
Well of course no-one was. But I was missing the point and Heather knew that. So to make it plain she moved in front of me and then sat on my lap straddling me. Her arms wrapped around me and as our lips met she slipped her tongue into my mouth. As if to underline her point a massive cheer went up around us in response to something on the screen.
“See,” she whispered in my ear “no-one cares what we do.”
I glanced around and she was right.
Heather’s dress was covering our laps. No need for the Union Jack this time I thought. She reached her hands underneath her dress and I felt my belt being undone, followed by my zip. I felt her fingers and then her fist around my cock. She slowly brought my cock back to full hardness with deliberate strokes up and down my shaft. I tried to control my breathing, determined to enjoy the thrill of being jerked off in the middle of the Olympic park.
Heather leant forward onto her knees, pressing her body close to mine. Kissing me and I returned those kisses. She edged closer and closer to me, before gently easing her body away from mine. The penny dropped in my mind at the split second that her cunt pressed down on my cock as she sank backwards. She paused as her tight, wet slit sat flush over the tip of my cock. She moved her hips forward so that my cock ran along her labia. Coating the tip of my cock with her juices.
My breathing quickened. More than anything in the world I wanted to be inside her. I needed that feeling of being enveloped by her. She leaned forward again, pulling her pussy away from my cock. She kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear.
“I want to walk around the Olympic games with your cum in my cunt.”
“Oh Heather.”
“I want to feel it seeping down my legs as I walk around the world’s greatest sporting event.”
Heather knew how much slutty talk turned me on.
“I want you Heather. I fucking want you!”
A big cheer erupted. I looked up at the screen. It was the final of the men’s Keirin race in the velodrome. Britain’s Chris Hoy was going for the 6th gold of his career.
“Hoy?” Heather asked
“How did you…?”
All the time that Heather had spent reading the daily guide had clearly been with a plan in mind. It was no accident that we were sat here now, in this position, with that race about to start. I marvelled at her cunning. I adored her.
Heather kissed me one more time and then lowered herself onto me. As my cock pressed past her lips and into that warm wet cunt she let out a gasp. She sat all the way down, taking me fully inside. Then she stopped. She ensured her dress was fully covering what was happening underneath, and then placed her hands on my shoulders. Poised, and ready to begin.
A cheer went up as on the screen a man on a moped set off around the track at the start of the Keirin cycle final. Heather slowly raised herself up my cock and then sank deliciously slowly back down again. She used her hands on my shoulders for balance, and kept her hip movements subtle and discreet.
Up and down.
Another cheer went up as the cyclists set off in pursuit of moped man.
Up and down. Slightly faster now.
I felt Heather clench her cunt around my cock. I responded with some hip movements of my own. My hands clasped Heather’s waist and slowly moved over her body.
Up and down
Feeling her curves though the thin fabric of that pretty summer dress. I made sure to brush her breasts, though if the state of her nipples were anything to go by she needed little in the way of stimulation.
Up and down.
Another lap gone and just like the cyclists Heather was speeding up. Her hips shimmying a little each time that she filled herself with my cock.
Up and down.
My cock deep inside her warm, wet, lushious vagina. I could feel the first signs brewing that the cum she so desired would not be a problem to deliver.
Up and down.
Moped man was on his last lap. Once he left the track the cyclists could race for the finish. I bucked my hips forcing myself upwards, reaching deeper inside her.
Up and down
A massive roar erupted around us. The race was on. Heather gripped my shoulders harder, leaned forward and kissed me as she sank her cunt down around my cock. Again and again, faster and faster. Her breathing fast and shallow. My cock engorged. It would be obvious to anyone looking that we were fucking in their midst. But all eyes were on the screen. Losing all inhibitions I grasped her breasts. I squeezed them again and again as she impaled herself on me. I slipped a hand down the front of her dress and squeezed a nipple. Heather whimpered but there was no let up in the wildness of her riding of my cock.
The noise built around us. The fervour of the crowd augmented my excitement at being fucked in this most public of places. My tongue was deep inside her mouth lashing wildly in a demented tango with her tongue. My hands went under her dress to her bum. Pulling her cheeks apart. Running my fingers from her cunt to her arsehole. Playing with that tight hole.
The cheering was at fever pitch.
“Oh Dylan…” she panted “Dylan!”
A mighty roar engulfed us. In my peripheral vision I could see flags waving, but my eyes were locked on Heather’s.
Her cunt so wet, so soft, so embracing. Enveloping my tumescent cock. She slid a hand down to her clitoris. By rubbing her clit she supplemented the feeling of my cock filling her cunt, my fingers in and around her arse, and the kisses I was raining down on her face, neck and shoulder. Her eyes were ablaze.
“Dylan…I love you.”
I felt her cunt clench around my cock. Tightly squeezing me as she raised up my length. Producing an exquisite mix of pain and pleasurable sensations as my cock’s head passed through her lips. As she plunged her cunt down once more I felt my cock pulse.
“I love you too.”
As I came I felt her wrap her arms around me. No longer bucking on my lap she was trembling as the feeling of my cum coating her cunt triggered her own orgasm. She rested her head on my shoulder. Biting down on my collar bone.
Around us people were cheering. I glanced up at the screen. Chris Hoy was waving a union jack.
“Gold.”
“Yes, yes, fucking yes!”
Heather’s words were not out of place, but they were driven by the orgasm cascading over her rather than the cycling.
As her orgasm subsided Heather’s lips met mine again. A soft and loving kiss.
We stayed there, locked together hugging and kissing for seemed like an age. My erection subsiding until my cock slipped out of her cunt. It was then that I jolted back to reality. The crowds had thinned around us. Had anyone seen us fucking? Would they have cared anyway?
We composed ourselves and walked back along the river. We held hands, talked and kissed.
“This has been the perfect day.”
“Yes it has Dylan.”
Heather kissed me, smiled and glanced down. Running down her leg was a barely noticeable trail of cum. I guided her off the path and sat her down amongst the gold and purple flowers. Spreading her legs apart I ran my tongue along that trail of cum before lapping my tongue around her shaved pussy. Moving back up her body our lips met and my cum and her juices were transferred from tongue to tongue.
We lay there holding each other as the sun went down. In the distance the stadium was illuminated and the cheers of 80,000 fans rippled through the park. It was time to leave, so reluctantly we got up. My union jack gave us one final service as Heather wiped up the remaining cum residue from between her legs. We left the union jack flag tied to a nearby tree. Who knows, maybe someone else had a use for it?
As we left the park we passed a games-maker.
“Hope you had a great day!”
“Possibly the best ever.” I replied. I kissed Heather as we walked to the station. My arm around her waist, holding her close.
We were quiet on the journey back to St Pancras. Quiet as we walked through the station to the platform where her train was due to depart. As we said our goodbyes there were kisses and tears. I stayed on the platform as the train pulled away, taking Heather back to her husband. Then in a daze I caught my train home.
Looking back it was the most intense day of my life. Dreamlike and yet it was so very real. I have never felt so alive as when we made love while Hoy was winning gold.
London 2012 gaved British sports fans 29 golden orgasmic moments of success. In that moment were Heather and I really so out of place after all?
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/exhibitionism/the-olympic-fun-and-games