Mao Asada: Vancouver Stories

(Disclaimer: This is a fantasy. Names and places are used in a fictional manner and are not meant to represent actual persons or establishments.)

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The cheers were still going, the assembly having come to their feet to applaud a trio of women, champions and titans of the noble sport of figure skating:

Yu-Na Kim, a South Korean beauty who carried the world on her shoulders. Joannie Rochette, a middling Canadian talent who had limped into third place on a sympathy vote. And Mao Asada, the sultry, strikingly sexy nineteen-year-old Japanese phenom who had paid for not being the flavor-of-the-moment with a close second-place finish.

As they stood on the podium and received their respective medals, Mao could only shake her head and be thankful that she hadn't screwed up more than she had and allowed Joannie to finish higher. She didn't make it a habit to think negatively about her fellow athletes, but there was no doubt in her mind that the woman didn't deserve to be anywhere near a medal. That bronze belonged to American Mirai Nagasu, who had it earned it fair and square only to have the rug pulled out from under her at the last second by judges more concerned with newspaper headlines than sportsmanship.

The cheers turned into a roar when the ladies left the podium. Bouquets littered the ice, tossed by fans to their favorite stars, and the petals made skating to the exit a chore for them all. Yet Mao hardly noticed. She was too busy watching poor Miki Ando on the sidelines, one more victim of Joannie's sympathy win.

Three years older than Mao, Miki had the same five-foot four-inch height but lacked the ballet dancer's figure. She had more muscle, was heavier on her feet, and didn't have the same eye-catching beauty that characterized Mao and her sister, but she was still pretty enough to be named one of Japan Vogue's Women of the Year; and any deficiencies she might have had were more than made up by an ass so firm and pliable it made other skaters sick with jealousy. Mao found it had a similar effect on her, but only because she believed Miki was wasting her time with a deadbeat divorcee when she could be with someone who shared the same interests and was beautiful enough to deserve her.


Someone like herself, perhaps?

Mao glided over--razor-sharp blades spraying chips of ice in the air--and put a hand over Miki's. The older woman smiled, a great sadness in her pretty brown eyes, and sighed when Mao gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek before pulling her into a tight hug. Miki had been ranked fifth in the world going into the Olympics, but a series of so-so showings over the last year had left the impression that she was merely an average skater, something her jump-heavy programs seemed to reinforce. That hadn't hurt Rochette or the American Rachael Flatt, possibly the two most boring athletes the sport had ever produced, but the negative press was slowly and surely wearing the kindhearted woman down.

"That was beautiful," Miki said into her countrywoman's ear. "I was very proud tonight."

Mao gazed into her eyes for a long moment, finally turning away when the injustice grew too great to ignore. A fourth place showing wouldn't have given the woman a medal, but it would certainly have gone a long way to redeeming her reputation.

Taking Miki's hand, she pushed off and began weaving her way back to the center of the ice. Miki went with her, having no reason not to trust Japan's greatest athlete.

"What are we doing?"

Mao looked back and smiled, a twinkle in her eye. She waited until they reached the center and were all alone before spinning around to answer her friend in a way that left the audience breathless.

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Scott Hamilton couldn't believe what he was seeing. Mao Asada and Miki Ando, Japan's elite figure skaters, were standing in the center of the rink, kissing like lifelong lesbians! And not only that: they were fondling each other's tight, athletic bodies and grinding so hard they were constantly in danger of falling on their perfect asses. It was so passionate that even he found himself breathing harder, his heart thumping with a fury not felt in a very long time.

Nor was he the only one, his fellow commentators staring slack-jawed at the erotic scene unfolding before their eyes, their chests heaving in time with the women's loud and sloppy kisses.

Scott shook his head, sighing with relief when a producer hurried over and motioned to the cameras. They were going back on air, the operators rushing to turn the lenses on the sexy pair at the center of the arena. He pulled his headset back on, still not believing this was really happening. First Gretchen Bleiler's raunchy bukkake on the medal podium, then Julia Mancuso's violent fisting of Lindsey Vonn--just what the heck was going on in Vancouver?

He shrugged and turned his mind to the action. Whatever was happening, he just hoped the next Winter Games were this exciting.

<><><>

Mao wasn't usually so aggressive with her lovers. She was the soft one, the sweet one, the girly-girl. But tonight all bets were off, the teenager forcing her tongue into Miki's mouth and probing until all she tasted was hot Ando. Miki responded in kind, and before long they were gliding in slow circles while they ran their hands up and down each other's taut backs and fondled their respective asses with a familiarity that left them both wet and moaning.

Mao had been with girls before, mostly her sister Mai, so she was very aware of what she was doing. Miki, on the other hand, had only been seen with men, lots of them, but if this was her first time with a member of the same sex it didn't show. She kissed Mao in all the right places, touched her where she was her most sensitive, and whispered such dirty things she nearly made the silver-medallist cream in her French-cut spandex bodysuit. Mao, her lips locked with Miki's, giggled appreciatively at that and wondered if the viewers at home would be able to see the wet spot.

Shifting a bit, she reached up and grabbed the zipper of Miki's slinky costume. The twenty-two-year-old groaned, knowing precisely what Mao had in mind but unwilling to stop her. She wanted this, perhaps even more than Mao did.

Mao pulled, dragging the zipper down Miki's back before taking the woman by the shoulders and slipping the bodysuit from her shoulders. The entire arena went silent as thousands of people held their breath, Miki turning bright red and looking as if she might pass out at any moment. Mao refused to let her, tugging the flashy costume down around Miki's slender waist before she could even try and back out. She nearly gasped at seeing her friend topless for the first time, forced to bite down on her knuckle to keep from cursing while she admired the woman's supple flesh and firm breasts.

It was Miki who made the next move, pulling Mao's head between her jiggling mounds and holding her until she began kissing and licking like a love-starved virgin. Mao took over from there, running black-gloved fingertips over sticky flesh and teasing and fondling Miki until she trembled. She thumbed small brown nipples, playfully twisting the hard nubs until Miki shook her head and begged for mercy. Mercy Mao wasn't about to grant her.

"Lower," Miki breathed, undoing Mao's bun so she could run her fingers through dark, silky hair. "Lower, please."

Mao could only nod. She liked this girl, really liked her, physically aching whenever she looked into her lovely eyes. She would do anything Miki asked of her, anything at all, even if that meant doing so in front of millions of strangers watching from around the world.

Pushing away from Miki, she glided gracefully backwards and stopped a mere heartbeat later. She reached back and began slowly unzipping her bodysuit. It was red and black and very tight--giving her slender body an even sleeker appearance--designed to be incredibly revealing whenever she did one of her famous poses. Figure skating, once popular only with women and gay men, was fast growing into a powerhouse with straights as well, thanks in no little part to the stunning women, tiny outfits, and arousing positions that saw long legs thrust into the air while barely covered crotches and asses were flashed at the cameras.

A simple tug left her as topless as Miki, her smaller but firmer and even more supple breasts eliciting wild applause, but although she had turned a bright red when the cheers grew even louder Mao wasn't about to leave it there. Taking a deep breath, she spun around, sending a spray of ice into the air, and shoved the rest of her outfit down her longs. She lifted a foot, tugging the costume off over her skate, then did the same with the other before tossing it away.

She could barely see the audience with most of the auditorium's lights focused on the ice, but if the shocked but delighted look on Miki's face was any indication, they were pleased with what Mao was showing them. Flawless golden-brown skin, a perfect body, lush pubic hair, and an ass that came very close to matching Miki's own--she was, in short, the ultimate athlete. Perhaps even the ultimate woman.

Or so Miki must have believed, a frightening change overtaking her as she pushed Mao against the nearest wall. Her lust was electric, bestial, and she didn't hold back as she mauled Mao's breasts and ran her hands over her naked body. Mao cried out, throwing her head back and wincing as a particularly bright light burned into her eyes, spreading her feet as the grunting beauty dropped to her knees and began kissing her way up the silver-medallist's seemingly endless legs.

Miki knelt there, topless and pretty as she ran her flicking tongue over every inch of Mao's smooth flesh, leaving it wet and sticky and sensitive to the touch. Her eyes fluttered as she moved even closer to her intended goal, the musky scent of Mao's burning-hot pussy made stronger by the sweat she had worked up during the several intense minutes that had won her silver. Miki didn't shy away. Instead, she seemed to grow stronger with every breath, as if Mao's smell had touched something primal in her brain and was driving her lust to ever-greater heights. She dug her nails into the woman's firm thighs, moaning like a cheap bukkake whore as she buried her face in her new lover's dripping sex.

Mao cried out, whimpering like the girls in the videos as she ran her fingers through Miki's dark hair. She resisted the urge to throw a leg over her friend's shoulder, the blades on her skates as deadly as any well-made sword, and kept her feet firmly planted on the ice while she caressed the woman's face and ears. Her pussy was so wet, so hot, that she couldn't fathom how Miki was standing it. But standing it she was, slurping and groaning as she devoured Japan's most wanted woman in front of a crowd of thousands.

Mao lowered her eyes and watched Miki while she worked. Sweat was breaking out along her naked flesh despite the chilly air wafting up from the ice, and it was a struggle to keep herself in one place. Her long program had left her drained, and now that the adrenaline of having sex in public had worn off she found her famous legs shaky and on the verge of giving out. But every time she tried to move away from the wall Miki used her superior strength to hold her in place while she feasted, forcing Mao to chew on her bottom lip while her body was assaulted both from within and without.

She gasped when the music suddenly kicked in, shocked that the sponsors were abetting this nasty display. She closed her eyes, blushing when the audience joined in and began clapping to the beat. Men and women, young and old, even their fellow skaters, all were cheering them on, the sea of faces blurring into one as time ticked by and Miki grew ever more aggressive with her exquisite oral pleasures.

Mao couldn't believe this was actually happening.

It was then, in that supreme moment of embarrassment and arousal, that she felt the first serious tingle in her belly, a tell-tale sign that Miki was doing too good a job and she had only moments before she came to a creamy finish in front of the entire figure skating world.

"Miki!" she cried. "Miki, don't! Stop, please!"

Her lover hesitated, Mao taking advantage of the lull to grab her under the arms and pull her to her feet. Chest heaving, skin glistening, she kissed the woman hard, hugging her tight while giving her trembling body precious time to recover. Miki immediately realized what she was doing, trying desperately to pull away just to have Mao wrap her lithe ballerina legs around her own and hold her in place. Not it became clear that she wasn't going anywhere did the twenty-something relax her body, sighing erotically as she returned the teenager's exhausted embrace.

That was good, because the way Mao was feeling right now she couldn't afford to let Miki anywhere near her pussy for at least another few minutes. Anything less and she would come hard and long and collapse to the ice in a heap of taut brown flesh. She had already missed out on gold, she wasn't about to let Miki Ando show her up sexually, too.

She pushed away from the wall, holding Miki at arm's length, and together they skated a slow circle around the rink. Mao let them gain a bit of speed before dropping into a kneeling position--her back foot balanced precariously on the front edge of her blade--and lifting Miki's skirt out of the way. The older woman was kind enough to help out, holding it up so Mao could concentrate and nearly falling on her ass when the kneeling beauty reached up with both hands and tore two fistfuls of material away from her crotch.

Mao was already hard at work by the time they drifted to a stop, her nose buried in Miki's dark curls while she lapped at her pink opening and crinkled folds. The smell was strong but pleasant, the heat a nice contrast to the coolness of the ice, and it wasn't long before she found herself drooling like a wild woman as she feasted on Miki's delicious juices.

Miki took several deep breaths while Mao's tongue and lips sent her into a sexual frenzy, finally letting out a shout and tearing what remained of her bodysuit from her body. Her flesh-colored stockings were left in tatters, but before she could remove them Mao pushed the remains down her strong legs and began running her hands over Miki's smooth skin. Miki reacted by closing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips, relaxing her body as if she were meditating.

Mao groaned hungrily, her lover's noises like music to her ears as she ate as fast as she could without compromising her technique. Her sister Mai had taught her that lesson long ago, showing her that woman preferred slower but more precise licks to fast but sloppy jabs, and it continued to work wonders even to this day, Miki's moans growing louder and increasing in speed even as Mao slowed her pace and focused on giving her long, deep licks she was certain to feel in her very bones. Yu-Na Kim might be the acknowledged queen slut here in Vancouver--the South Korean having pleasured her country's skating committee to ensure a slot at the games--but even she paled in comparison to Mao, the undisputed champ when it came to eating pussy and pleasing members of the same sex.

As if to reinforce the point, Miki let out a surprised gasp before taking Mao by the head and pulling her tight against her. She bucked and whimpered, her pussy spasming and leaking and gushing all over the teenager's face and chin and neck. It was all Mao could do to keep up, eyelashes fluttering as she licked and sucked and used her fingers to stimulate her friend's quivering hole while she drank down all the sweet girl-cum she could gather on her tongue. There was quite a bit, perhaps too much, and it wasn't long before Mao's chest was glazed with Miki's juices, a wet stream trailing its way down her flat belly and vanishing into unkempt pubic hair.

She waited merely for Miki to stop rocking before slowly kissing her way up the woman's spent body and showering her with affection.

They had seconds to bask in their afterglow, the audience breaking out in furious applause and many jumping to their feet to deliver an ovation for the hottest performance they had ever seen. Flowers rained down on the naked, sweating duo like gifts from the heavens, tokens of appreciation for the women who had transcended mere mortal beauty and represented their country in ways few others had ever dared.

Mao and Miki reluctantly came apart, holding hands and smiling as they turned to the rapturous crowed and bowed together. They could be embarrassed tomorrow; today was about taking pride in the games, and in themselves.

They skated away, waiting until they were off the ice before putting their arms around each other and escorting themselves into the locker area like longtime lovers. They stopped when the audience could no longer see them, blowing kisses at the camera following in their wake. The crowd went wild at that, the image transposed on the arena's massive screens.

Another pair of ladies took to the ice once they were gone, the cheers returning in full force. By then Mao and Miki were too busy in the steamy shower room to notice, cleaning each other not with soap but with their mouths.

The cheers only grew louder.