tagChain StoriesThe Literotica Olympics Day 05

The Literotica Olympics Day 05


“Ok, wait a second. I thought this was an Olympiad of sexual games?”

Even over the clash of blades and stamping of feet, I could hear the confusion in McfBridge’s voice. We had walked into the largest Salle’ in Athens together, both somewhat amazed at our own recuperative powers, considering the events of the previous night. What an Opening Ceremony! We had thought that by being early we would have some space in which to train. Although Mac had shown a lot of talent in our earlier events, he admitted to having almost no knowledge of this kind of “swordplay”.

“Meaning that everyone here looks pretty serious about this?” I asked, though I felt I knew the answer. “Yes, we are Literotica Olympians to fight bouts that are perhaps a little more intimate. But for some reason, this event seems to be more about sport and less about sex every four years.”

“Any theory as to why? I mean, everyone seemed to get along pretty well last night.” McfBridge sounded confused. “Now here they are trying to stick each other with swords.”

I laughed. “And just how is that different than what we were trying to do with the girls last night? I mean, those swords aren’t steel and may be a little shorter…”

“Speak for yourself, mate! I think this three foot piece of steel’s got a bit of growing to do to match me.” LewdandLicentious strolled over with the steel in question resting on his left shoulder and raised the famous eyebrow in my direction. “Havin’ a bit of a self-confidence problem, Bel?”

“Not at all Lew. Just ‘cause I usually carry my donuts in a box. Lew, you remember McfBridge, yes?”

“Card player, right? I remember him fine.” Lewd reached over and shook Mac’s outstretched hand. “I’ll see you two blokes later I assume? Equestrian today…”

“Yes, we’ll be there. Say hi to Lou for us when she wakes up.” Lewd strolled out into the morning air. “Ok, lets go over here and tell me what you’re watching…” McfBridge and I walked over to where Liar, Black Tulip and a gosling were watching two shapely bodies taking each other’s measure with Colleen as referee.

We watched as the two ladies continued their conversation with the blades. They seemed very evenly matched and familiar with one another’s style. Just as one seemed to get an advantage, the other would meet each thrust with a perfect parry and riposte’.

“It’s almost as though each knows what the other is thinking,” said Mac. “Who are they? Any one I know?” Although few details about a person’s body are hidden in the tight clothes worn in the sport, the mask does tend to obscure other features. I was about to tell him when a hand snaked over my shoulder and placed a single index finger over my lips. “Quiet, sugar. Y’all just let Mac figure it out on his own.” I obeyed, but I also took Cloudy’s red-nailed fingertip between my lips and nibbled and suckled a bit. I was rewarded for my efforts by a sharp intake of breath and another hand on my right shoulder as the move caught her by surprise and her knees buckled just for a second.

“Well,” McfBridge started, “ The one on our left seems to be focused entirely on speed. She is very quick and I think the woman on the right would be done if it weren’t for her correct anticipation. She is a little reckless, but I get the impression that though her impetuousness gets her into trouble, she is usually quick enough in body and mind to recover.”

“Essentially correct,” stated the gosling, which then shook her feathers and grew before our eyes into a slender woman with golden hair, firm lips and a longish neck. “Lucky is rather obsessed with speed when it comes to sport.”

“What about the other one, Hon?” said Cloudy in her best Alabama drawl, with a slight quiver from my continued oral administrations to her fingers and hand.

“Unfortunately, I’m a little distracted. Give me a second.” Mac was staring at something indeed. His eyes were definitely focused a little less than halfway up the figure on our right.

A male voice said from our left, “The ass? Did you know a quarter bounced off of it goes up about three feet?”

Suddenly the stamping of feet in front of us stopped and Colly turned Liar’s chin back to face forward.

“I heard that Liar. I’d rather you avoid saying things that could distract my participants.” Colleen Thomas can be rather focused at times but she rarely misses anything said in her vicinity, even when you think she isn’t listening.

Honey123 on the other hand was laughing so hard she had her hands on her knees and had dropped her blade. Which was probably why Colly had stopped the bout.

I was suddenly distracted from the scenery about me by the introduction of a cold pointed object to my adam’s apple.

“Release the Indian Princess’ appendage, sir, or I will stick you in a most uncomfortable place…” I let my eyes travel up the blade until I met Lucky’s laughing eyes, “Besides, that tongue needs rest. It has a lot of work to do over the next 15 days.”

“As you command, milady. Besides, Ol’ Mac here has an appointment with a pirate…”

“New to the true sport of kings, McfBridge?” asked Minsue. “I will be more than happy to take you over and introduce you to Pops. That way we can let poor Bel here try and talk his way out of this one. Now, Pops is a good teacher but a couple of words to the wise. One, that patch is not real; so don’t be surprised if it switches back and forth between the two eyes. Second, the parrot is real, and if it thinks you are trying to hurt Pops it will go right for your…” Mindy’s voice faded as she walked Mac towards the corner where Pops_54 and Svenskaflicka were giving lessons to a few of the Litsters who had never before crossed literal swords rather than metaphorical ones.

Meanwhile, I contemplated how I was actually going to talk my way out of this. Luckily, Black Tulip had my back. Well, actually she had Lucky-E-levens.

“Lucky,” said the dark flower as she leaned over the shoulder attached to the arm that had a sword at my throat, “Let our impetuous friend go will you? I have a use for him.” This last bit she purred in a way more suited to a black cat than a tulip.

“Ok B.T.,” said Lucky, lowering the point off line with a smirk, “But only if you will vouch for his future behavior. You have to watch him. He lurks around all quiet like and then seems to take great pleasure in popping up and trying to be witty. He succeeds about 1 out of 3.”

“Ow, madam. You wound me. Surely I am at least closer to fifty percent? Or perhaps you are just enjoying the tease? I know that you know how badly I want to touch that body of yours instead of just drooling over it…” So saying I moved to slide gently past Lucky, pausing to give her a quick peck on the cheek, before throwing my upper body into a sweeping bow in front of Black Tulip. “My rescuer. What would you have of me?”

“For now, just a sparring partner,” she replied, “We can discuss the rest after we get warmed up.” As Tulip and I made our way to an open area on the floor I could hear the giggling behind me.

Five days later I was nervous as I prepared for the final bout. I had never made it to the finals before. The fighting had been fast and furious, and fatigue was going to be a factor in this final match. Lauren Hynde had pushed me for all I was worth in the semi-finals, and I think I’m going to flinch for a while every time some one shouts out “Porto” at the top of their lungs. I think she would have had me if not for the distraction of an impish little voice that had calmly projected a “Hi Lauren!” at just the right moment. The quick giggle that had caused was what gave me just enough of an opening to get the final touché.

I have a feeling that Abs is going to claim more than just the massage and cigar I promised her. Hey, don’t look at me like that! All is fair in love and war, and fencing with this crowd was a little bit of both.

There had been some interesting pairings. Tatelou and Lew somehow got matched up against each other in the very first round. Lew never had a chance. He got totally lost in the eyes and the cleavage and was done quickly. A blessing for the rest of us, as Lew has the advantage on many of us in reach. A rather surreal moment had come in the early afternoon, when Oggbashen and Jeanne D’Artois had somehow ended up facing each other. My new buddy McfBridge had gotten fairly deep into the tourney before running into the buzz saw in red leather known as Crimson Maiden. CM in turn had been defeated by Liar, who had made quite a run to the quarterfinals, defeating Cantdog, Minsue, Vella_Ms and Destinie21. Yet even Liar had fallen before Colleen Thomas, my opponent in the finals.

I admit to being a little intimidated before facing Colly. None of us guys had ever faced her before. She had always restricted herself to bouts between women, and this had made her an unknown quantity going into this event.

Fencing is a lot like sex. Little cues can mean a lot, and learning and responding to the slightest of hints can reap great rewards. You have to pace yourself, and time your thrusts. Done well, the conversation of steel is enthralling. Done poorly, it is still fun and educational. But when the various factors all come together a single bout can seem to last hours instead of minutes, and both combatants will remember details such as the rhythm of breathing and the trail of a single drop of sweat down the forehead of the person across from you. You truly do enter a zone.

I had been pushed into that zone often today. Not only Lauren but also CharleyH and Cloudy had pushed me right to the edge. I honestly did not know how much I had left for Colly. I had been watching her when I could and I could tell she was as capable of manipulating the emotions of her opponents as she was of her readers.

Little did I know that Colleen was having some of the same thoughts about me. As much as I saw it to be an advantage for her that she had never fought in the co-ed ranks she felt it was a disadvantage. Liar had pushed her to the edge of elimination not because he was more skilled in his blade work but because he had used tactics that had caught her completely off guard. She wondered if it was due to Liar being remarkably innovative or whether his approach to the bout had been influenced by his gender in ways that she could not anticipate.

Having fenced Liar before, I could have told her that his tactics had little to due with testosterone. He was simply that good. He has especially strong hands and the beat parry approach he had used on Colleen in his first two touches was a result of him leading with his strength rather than exploiting her weakness.

The arena had been reconfigured so that the audience lined the fencing strip on both sides. In the center sat some of the past winners of this event, including Rumple Foreskin and the winner from the Sydney games, Damppanties. Pops had been chosen to referee this final bout, a wise choice. Pops could be counted on as a fair and impartial ref as long as Tatelou was not involved. He and Oggbashen both had a fascination with her lower anatomy that made them useless as judges in her bouts. I understood, as Destinie21 affected me in the same way. Hard to concentrate when you are sneaking glimpses at someone’s ass.

“Ready, Bel?” Carl asked as I stood watching Colleen approach the strip. Carl East had volunteered to be my second for the final bout. Black Tulip and I had been sharing each other’s company for most of the event, but she had been called away suddenly by the Committee On Unfair Competition. I hoped it did not have anything to do with the doping scandal that was the subject of so many rumors.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, “Let’s go.”

As I stepped up onto the platform I had to stop short. Colleen had already taken her place at the opposite end of the strip. She had thrown back her head to shake out her long dark hair and tie it back away from her face. The light of the sun shining through a window behind her had created a halo effect. The paleness of her skin and the deep black of her hair combined in a moment that would have given Rembrandt pause.

“OK,” said Carl behind me, “First reminder. Do not be distracted by her beauty. I shouldn’t have to tell you this Belegon. You’ve fenced Lucky, Cloudy and Honey over the last few days. You should be able to put it aside. And whatever you do, don’t think about bunnies!”

“Alright already!” I responded to him. “Did BT put you up to this? She’s been hammering me with that same thing all day long.”

“And here you are in the finals,” said Carl.

“Right. OK, point to you and Tulip. I understand.”

Pops stepped forward to the center of the strip, our cue to meet him there. Colly took her mask from Sub Joe and received her blade from Virtual_Burlesque, who were both acting as seconds to her. I took the mask from Carl and lifted my steel and moved forward to this final confrontation.

Pops was waiting for us and spoke quietly in a voice meant for our ears alone.

“Awright, you two. I want this clean and without incident. Colly, keep that temper in check. We don’t want Belegon here sent to the hospital, we’ve got the Triple Jump tomorrow. You know what I’m talking about; I’ve seen how fierce you can be in the political threads. Bel, this is foil, not epee! You must establish right of way before you can attack. Watch what you’re doin’ ere.”

“Awww, c’mon Pops, would you let that rest. I told you I was grabbing for Abstruse and CharleyH. They were wearing poor Remec out. I didn’t mean to grab your ass. How was I to know Vella was going to spin you that way?”

“Well, boy,” replied the ol’ pirate, “Number one, you should look where you’re reaching. Number two, Opening Ceremonies was five days ago and that was not necessarily what I was referring to at this time. Number three; don’t assume I didn’t like it. How would you know?”

Colly cleared her throat loudly. “If you two boys are finished flirting, can we move along? The audience is getting restless.”

Twenty minutes later I was staring down at the point of Colleen’s foil in the center of my chest. Not only had she beaten me, she had embarrassed me! After we had saluted each other, the judges and the audience, the bout had finally begun. I had scored two quick touches in the first few moments. She had been overcompensating on her parries to low thrusts and twice I had scored with quick counters to six, that is to say by thrusting towards her outside shoulder.

She had tricked me. I became convinced she had a weakness on the outside. By the time I realized that her real vulnerability was inside and I had been lured into concentrating on her strong exterior defense, she was ahead 4-2. It had stayed that way for the last six minutes of the bout, as we had fallen into a steady rhythm of lunge, thrust, parry, riposte and counter. Our steel sang and the tension in the audience built as they waited for the eventual climax. We had found a strong pace that was tiring us both and yet there was a joy inherent in the fast and hard movements. Fencing is about speed, spacing and precision. The constant pressure on the blades and the quick movements are hard to see with the naked eye.

There is a wonder in knowing that your opponent is coming so very close to piercing your defenses and stopping them at the last possible moment to respond with an instant riposte. They must then recognize the reversal and meet your thrust with a response strong enough to continue the exchange but soft enough to draw you in to a position of vulnerability.

Six minutes is a very long time to continue to hold the emotional and physical focus of such an intense experience. At the end I felt I had finally seen an opening in a few of her responses. I began a series of outside feints to try and make Colly believe that I was once again concentrating on her exterior, where I had scored before. I did not realize the trap she had set for me.

When I finally committed to my inside attack she had been ready. It had almost succeeded anyway, but she was just too good. I honestly think most people would have been caught by that attack even if they were expecting it. Not Colly.

At the very last millisecond she had knocked my point off target and perfectly placed a riposte in the center of my chest. In my eagerness to penetrate the opening she had allowed me to see, I overextended my reach and was unable to parry her reply. Fifth and final touché. Game over.

I stepped back and peeled my mask off of my sweat-drenched brow. I moved my shaking legs together and raised my blade in a formal salute that I filled with as much respect as I could muster. As I brought the blade slashing down I realized I was not upset at losing. The last exchange had been incredible. We had maintained a level of intimacy that no other activity could have matched in that time. No, not even sex. I now knew things about Colleen I would never be able to explain, and she about me as well.

I could see the slight tremble in her knees as Colly also stepped back. She raised her blade to her chin in the traditional salute and then let it drop to the floor. I felt a small satisfaction in knowing that I must have pushed her as far as she had me. She raised her hand to the bottom of her mask and drew it backwards off her head with a flourish, shaking out her hair, the sunlight behind her once more creating a halo, this time with a slight gleam off the thin layer of hard won perspiration that lay on her lovely face.

Suddenly she threw down the mask and stepped into me to draw my face down into a long hard kiss. I put my hands on her hips and concentrated on returning the passion as our tongues began to dance as our blades had moments before.

Seconds seemed hours but eventually we both noticed the annoyance of the outside world. We had become so lost in each other that we forgot we were in a room full of spectators. Now the applause washed over us and brought us back to reality as the crowd erupted. They had sat in stunned silence during the final point, but Colleen’s bold finish had created an explosion as that tension was released and they surged to their feet as one to cheer.

“Milady,” I breathed when she gave me a chance, “Never have I been so happy to lose. This was the greatest contest I have ever experienced.”

Colleen just looked in my eyes for a moment, running her fingers through my hair. “Oh no you don’t,” she said, grabbing a fistful at the back of my head and pulling me down towards the floor as she kissed me again, “We’re just getting started…”


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