Rivals and Lovers

The following story takes place in 2018, two years before the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, when the Games were expected to commence as scheduled.

Alyse Hutton and Nicole Lindstrom were Olympic weightlifters and teammates in the Rock Ridge Barbell Club. Both young women hoped to lift in the next Olympics. Tokyo was two years away, not exactly around the corner but close enough. They both competed in the 76-kilo class and were among the top female lifters in the country in that weight division. Nicole, twenty-five, had been top dog at Rock Ridge in her weight class until twenty-two-year-old Alyse came along, the "upstart" as Nicole said behind her back. Even so, she knew on some level that being challenged was a good thing. Competition in anything pushes one to be better, to reach heights greater than they would standing alone.

Nevertheless, in her more self-examining, honest moments, Nicole recognized that she was struggling with feelings of envy bordering on jealously. Alyse was eclipsing her and she didn't like it one bit. After all, nobody appreciates being knocked off their pedestal. In a recent major contest, Alyse went six for six, snatching 111k and hoisting 138k in the clean and jerk. Nicole snatched 109k and clean and jerked 136k, missing her final two attempts at 138k. It was the first time that Alyse had beaten Nicole. The fact that Alyse hadn't been lifting as long made it particularly galling.

Nicole Lindstrom, once called a "hot new lifting talent," wasn't used to losing. In fact, she'd been successful when it came to just about anything she tried. She did well in college, making the dean's list every semester and then got into a highly selective grad school program for physical therapy. Besides gymnastics, she'd been a top CrossFit athlete before devoting her full energy to Olympic lifting. On top of all that, muscle guys found her hot. She stood five-foot-seven, had the requisite large quads and solid arms, though the arms of a female Olympic lifter, not the ripped, vascular arms of a bodybuilder. She had a fair complexion, with lovely skin, skin to match her face, soft and pretty, so pretty. When lifting, she often set her light brown hair in braids, looking like some sexy Teutonic fraulein.

Alyse Hutton drew her share of male attention also, if you were a guy who liked her body type and many muscle guys did. She stood a stocky five-foot-four, with big, curvy female quads, strong enough to back squat 170k and front squat 150k. She wore her dirty-blond hair in a ponytail when training, loose, in waves and below her shoulders off the lifting platform. And she looked so cute the way she alternatively puckered and pursed her pouty lips when she spoke. Nice skin also, too nice, she believed, to ruin it with tattoos, which she found hideous.

Both women had thousands of followers (mostly male) on Instagram. And that's another thing that irked Nicole, because she once had more followers than anyone else. She still did but Alyse, her lifting star rising, was catching up. The thing is, she liked Alyse, knew she was a nice person as well as fiercely competitive and goal-oriented. She just couldn't get used to the idea of no longer being numero uno, not in the prime of her lifting career, not as long as she was chasing an Olympic dream.

Then there was Nicole's weird sexuality that contributed to her angst. She considered herself mostly heterosexual. Mostly, because she had had a lesbian encounter when she was nineteen and still involved in CrossFit. She and Sandra Worley had been casual friends on the CrossFit circuit. Nicole had a boyfriend at the time, and so her attraction to Sandra, a brunette built along the same lines as Alyse, had caught her off guard. She kept it to herself, thinking that Sandra, who also had a boyfriend, would slap her silly. What she didn't know was that the attraction was mutual, something that Sandra revealed one day when they were showering after a training session. "I like you too, honey," Sandra had said, noticing the suggestive way Nicole was looking at her. Under jets of warm water, they began to fool around. Nothing too heavy, soaping each other off, then light kisses and touching in private places. But that was it because neither of them felt comfortable enough to take matters to a more serious level.

That was Nicole's first and last lesbian experience, filed away and kept secret to all except Sandra, who she had lost touch with years ago. Nicole chalked it up to some sort of aberration, a one-time thing. But was it? Because, for all her jealousy, she couldn't deny what she also felt for Alyse. It was so baffling, if not disturbing, that she considered seeking therapeutic help. She didn't think of herself as a lesbian. She had a boyfriend--she had always had boyfriends. And she was tight with her current boyfriend, tight enough to where she could see them getting engaged in the near future. Maybe she was bi. But that didn't ring true either. She liked guys, she loved her boyfriend and she didn't go around checking out or fantasizing about girls. Except for Alyse. Except for that one time in her life years ago. She pondered this thing. Maybe by seducing Alyse, if she ever could, it would be a way of gaining the supremacy that she felt was slipping away. A way to dominate this amazing athlete, perhaps more gifted than she. The old power thing, in other words. That DID have the ring of truth. But so did the physical part of it. She admired Alyse's body, curvy, compact, strong but also feminine. And that face, so cute, the face of a little girl, one that could hoist heavy weights. Being naked next to Alyse, being on top of her, getting her hot, turning her on...Oh, my, she got wet just thinking about it.

What an outrageous, crazy idea. It made her question her own sanity. Maybe she should seek therapy. Then again, maybe not. Sexual attraction, even to one's own gender, didn't make one crazy, did it? But to actually move forward, putting fantasy into action--now that might be kind of crazy. Alyse could charge her with sexual harassment, get her kicked out of Rock Ridge, not to mention what it could do to her wholesome, All American-girl-next-door image. She tried to repress all this, with little success. Some thoughts just won't go away, no matter how hard one tries to make them.

*****

Rock Ridge Barbell was located in a big garage that stood next to a Goodyear Tire/full-service automobile outlet. The garage had stood empty for years until new owners purchased and renovated it into a well-equipped, climate-controlled gym, geared toward the needs of power lifters, CrossFit athletes and Olympic lifters. Three lifting platforms lay across the concrete floor. There were power racks, Olympic bars, racks of dumbbells, kettlebells and stacks of bumper plates of various colors. There were dip bars, chinning bars and rings and ropes that hung from the ceiling. This was a "serious" gym, where athletes trained for serious competition.

Nicole and Alyse usually trained at the same time, in the late afternoon, after Nicole had gotten off work from her physical therapist job and after Alyse had finished her college classes (she was in her last semester) for the day. They were training partners as well as rivals, although the rivalry was more of Nicole's making.

Nicole greeted her with a hug in the small locker room adjacent to the gym. She wore what she normally wore for work, khaki pants and a loose-fitting, blue short-sleeve sports shirt. Alyse dressed like the college student she was, jeans, a V-neck pull-over and sneakers.

"Front squats today," Alyse said. "Ugh."

Nicole could empathize. Front squats were uncomfortable but necessary. "I hear ya, but we gotta do 'em."

"Yeah, I know," Alyse sighed as she bent over and began to peel off her jeans.

Nicole couldn't help watch while she began to take off her own street clothing. "Hmm...mint-green panties today, huh?"

Alyse straightened up and grinned. "Um, yeah. You look surprised."

Nicole shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. In fact, she was becoming aroused at the sight of Alyse in those mint-green panties and no bra. Unlike herself and many athletic women, Alyse had boobs; size C would be Nicole's guess. "I just never saw you in mint-green panties before."

Alyse drew a confused look while she focused her blue eyes on what Nicole was wearing. "And if I'm not mistaken, I never saw you in red panties. So I guess we're even." She giggled.

"Guess we are," Nicole said, pulling up her tight blue training shorts that weren't much longer than her underwear.

Alyse wore a similar outfit when she was training, which included a sports bra and bare midriff. The pants were an alternative to the long spandex pants she sometimes wore both in training and in competition. The shorts drew more male attention, something that both Alyse and Nicole had mixed feelings about. Yes, it was nice to be admired, but they also wanted to be taken for the serious, elite strength athletes they were. It was a way of keeping their feminine image in a traditionally male-dominated sport.

No surprise, a few of the guys looked up when Nicole and Alyse came into the gym. They didn't even try to be discreet, gawking at that luscious female muscle, flexing with every step.

After a few minutes of stretching, Nicole placed an empty, 20k Olympic bar on the squat rack. She did a set of twelve warm-up reps, then rested while Alyse did the same. Both women had good shoulder flexibility, which allowed them to rack the bar high on their shoulders. They worked up to 140k for three reps, a relatively light weight for Alyse, not so light for Nicole who struggled to stay with her.

Nicole knew that Alyse wasn't stupid, knew that she probably sensed her insecurity of watching her once dominant position at Rock Ridge being challenged. Nicole could see that Alyse had the potential to make tremendous gains in the next few years. She could even see her standing atop the podium in Tokyo with a medal hanging around her neck. Gold, silver or bronze, she couldn't be sure, of course, but she could see Alyse brimming with the sort of self-confidence one needs to get there. If the American Olympic trials for weightlifting were held today, she knew that Alyse, barring injury, would earn the number one spot at seventy-six kilos. Nicole might be an alternate, depending on where she stood internationally, though taking alternates these days were a luxury most teams could not afford. Nicole hadn't given up her own Olympic dream. Far from it. But seeing what Alyse could do had weakened her once heady confidence. Peculiarly, it made her even hotter for this cute blond "upstart."

"Okay, time for snatches," Alyse said after her last set of front squats. "I'm shooting for what I did at our last meet. If I can do that one-eleven after squatting, I figure I'm good for much more. How about you, girl? Feeling strong?"

Did Nicole detect a smug tone in her voice? She couldn't be sure, though she didn't rule it out either. Either way, she wasn't about to back down to what she perceived as a not so veiled challenge. "Feeling great. Let's do it."

They took off their lifting belts (not needed for snatches), grabbed another bar and took the center platform. As always, they'd begin by doing repetition snatches from the hang. Then, as the weights got heavier, they'd do singles from the floor. They began with a routine of stretching amid the usual sounds of this place that echoed off the concrete walls and high ceiling--shouts and grunts, the clang and thud of weights being loaded, unloaded and dropped. Then they loaded the bar to 61k to begin their exercise. Standing in front of her, Nicole watched Alyse do her first set, paying close attention to her form but also catching an eyeful of cleavage when she bent over, plus her chunky, powerful legs propelling her out of the squat like she was lifting cardboard instead of steel.

When they reached the 100k mark, it was all singles from the platform. Nicole had big strong thighs also, and had no trouble keeping up with Alyse at this point. She had snatched 111k herself in training. Unfortunately, she had failed to do it at that last contest. Today, however, she was determined to match Alyse lift for lift. She followed her with 104.5, then 109k. Her legs were tired from squatting but she still made it, albeit with more effort.

"Okay, it's time for that one-eleven," Alyse said. "Are you with me?"

Nicole, hands on hips, nodded. "Bring it on."

Alyse made it. Not only that, she looked strong doing it, looked good for more. "Come on, Nikki, you can do it," she said, knowing that Nicole would take the same weight.

Nicole chalked up, stood over the bar, let out an abrupt shout, then stooped down and hooked her hands around the bar. After a slow pull from the floor, she exploded on her second pull, jumped into the squat and...She couldn't quite lock out and the bar came crashing down. She shook her head, then stood up. "I'm taking that again." She did, but again she missed. "Damn it," she said, kicking the edge of one of the 25k red bumper plates. She sounded almost annoyed when she said to Alyse, "I suppose you're going higher."

"Got to, at least two more kilos," Alyse said. She then proceeded to load the bar to 113k.

Nicole knew that this was pushing close to Alyse's personal best--after front squats yet. "Easy weight, let's go," she said, while hoping she'd miss. She hated herself for feeling that way, although she realized that every competitor felt that way, hoped their competition would fail, whatever the sport. It made sense. Someone would have to fail for someone else to win. It was a natural reaction, human nature.

Alyse not only made 113k, she made it look easy. As if to rub it in, she slapped on a half-kilo plate on each side. "Might as well make it an even two-hundred and fifty pounds," she said.

"Might as well," Nicole said through clenched teeth, her tone skirting on the edge of hostility.

Moments later, her insides were roiling with envy. Nevertheless, Nicole hugged her for succeeding with 114k. Once again, Alyse had done something that Nicole couldn't do, at least at the moment. "Good show," Nicole said, struggling to hide her negative feelings. She then kissed her on the mouth, right on those sexy pouty lips of hers.

"Wow!" Alyse cried after pulling away. "You kissed me like you meant it."

Nicole did mean it, though on a level that she doubted Alyse would welcome. "Well, that was some effort," she said. "Very impressive, considering that we just did front squats."

"Thanks, although I'm starting to pay for it." She winced as she bent forward and touched her lower back. "I think I might have pulled something."

Nicole stepped closer and placed her hand on the area. "Here?"

"Yeah." Alyse arched back, then forward. "Shit. Maybe I should call it a day. Rest up and ice it down."

Nicole nodded. "Good idea. I've pulled muscles in my back before and tried to push through it. Only made things worse."

Alyse looked despondent, looked the way all athletes look who sense they might be forced to lay off. "Well, I know you have incline presses to do," she said, picking up her equipment bag. Anyone of these guys can spot you. See ya."

"That can wait," Nicole said. "I know it's not easy getting dressed after that sort of injury."

Alyse managed to smile. "Sounds like the physical therapist in you coming out."

"It's what I do."

Nicole followed her into the locker room. Alyse sat on a bench in front of her locker, arching her back, trying to assess the extent of her injury and wincing, not only from the physical pain but the pain of not knowing how long it would take to heal.

"Here, let me do that," Nicole said, watching Alyse strain to unbuckle her lifting shoes. After slipping them off, she reached out to slip off her training shorts.

"Oh, I can do that much," Alyse said. She stood up, then began to slide them down her bubble butt and bulging thighs. "It even hurts to do this." She stepped out of them, leaving on her mint-green panties and sports bra.

"I bet," Nicole said. "It might feel better if you let me massage it a bit. Is that okay?"

Alyse shrugged. "You're the therapist." Per Nicole's direction, she lay on her stomach on the bench.

"I'll be gentle," Nicole said, rubbing the palms of her hands over her friend's sweaty skin. "Too bad I don't have any methyl salicylate handy."

"Methyl what?"

"It's an ingredient in creams that some therapists use for muscle pulls and the like."

"Does it work?"

"It helps. Rest and time help the most. Ice and heat, too. In that order." Her hands kept moving. "By the way, you smell good."

"Thanks. So do you. I noticed that when you kissed me. But, you know, I felt kind of weird saying it."

"Weird how?"

"Well, some girls might take it the wrong way. If you know what I mean."

"Yep, I think I do," Nicole said, smiling to herself while she slipped a hand under her panties and then onto her butt. When Alyse picked her head up, Nicole assumed it was to protest and she jerked away.

"No, that's okay," Alyse said. "Keep going, it feels good."

Nicole did, massaging her friend's lower back and butt at the same time. She almost couldn't believe she'd gotten this far. Maybe she should drop the urge to go further. It wasn't the right time or place and somebody could walk in on them any second. Even so, it was hard to resist. She was in charge now, attending to her injured training partner who just minutes before had bettered her on the lifting platform. But it wasn't a dominatrix thing at all. She really wanted to make Alyse feel better--and herself in the process. At this moment, she felt almost motherly toward this athletically-gifted girl, as well as sexually charged. "Look, Alyse, I'm about to do something that might make you feel even better. If you don't like it, tell me to stop. Okay?"

"Okay."

Moments later, a CrossFit woman came in to use the bathroom. In response to her concern, Nicole said, "My friend here pulled something in her back. Just giving her a massage."

The woman nodded, then went into one of the two stalls. Upon exiting, she asked if there was anything she could do to help. "Thanks, but I think we're okay here," Nicole said.

Tactfully, Nicole pried Alyse's legs about an inch apart, nudged aside the edge of her panties and then used her index finger to apply a gentle massage between her labium. "Feel good?"

Alyse laughed. "Girl, you're so bad. Yes, it feels good. Makes me forget about my back, that's for sure."

"That's what I was hoping." Nicole's own panties were soaked. 'Oh, if only we were in my place right now,' she thought. She glanced toward the entrance. Then, seeing that the coast was clear, she got on her knees at the edge of the bench. "Okay, Leesie, my tongue should feel even better. El Supremo."

"Wait, you're going to lick my--" Alyse couldn't finish her sentence. She didn't have to, for the erotic, sensuous feel of Nicole's tongue spoke for itself. "Ohmygod! Ooo, that feels good! You're such a bad girl, Nikki, and I'm even worse for letting you do this. "Ooo, you're too much, keep going."

Nicole did for about a minute more, swishing her tongue furiously over her clit and into the juices that gushed forth from between her friend's legs. Then she stopped, fearful that Alyse's moans would carry out to the gym. "Look, we better quit while we're ahead." She bent over and kissed her back.

Slowly, almost in slow motion, Alyse sat up, then shook her head in disbelief. "Ohmygod, that was wonderful to the max, Nikki. I'd always heard that guys can't compete with girls doing that. Now I believe it. Whew! Did they teach you that, ah, therapeutic technique in grad school?"

A tongue-in-cheek question deserved a tongue-in-cheek reply. "They did. In fact, it was on one of our midterms. I got an A."