Cold Sports, Hot Bodies: A Collection of Erotic Short Stories

by Aphrodite, Ana

  He rolled his head forward to catch her lips, and as they kissed it was almost as though there were no inch of their skin not pressing against each other, no place not warmed by raw, primitive heat. She clenched her muscles tighter, and he moaned, rocking harder against her.

  Just when she thought their speed and force couldn't increase any further, his hands strayed between her legs, rubbing a finger against her clitoris. The sensation was so intense she screamed, incoherent with pleasure. Time slowed and sped up simultaneously, and all her other cares melted away, small and irrelevant compared to this feeling, this moment. As she shuddered against him, he came hard, pounding against her arrhythmically as he lost control.

  They slumped together to the floor, tired and breathless. As they leaned against the wall, he reached out and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. "I like this pattern we're establishing, Jackie," he panted.

  After sex that good, she couldn't bring herself to disagree.

  Team Effort

  Sven paused in the middle of his workout for a swig of water. They'd survived the trials, but Sweden's four-man bobsled team still had a fight ahead of them before the medal was theirs. An evening workout was in order, a typical lower-body routine.

  He paused in his appreciation of the other members of his team. They'd all grown close over the years they'd been sledding together. Olaf, Hans, and Jan were more than just teammates. They'd been there for each other in the difficult times, through physical injuries and emotional ones. Olaf had even been a pallbearer at Sven's father's funeral, and they'd cried together after.

  But Sven was keeping something from them. At first, the secret had weighed heavily, a worry that it would grow like a cancer within the team, fracturing their closeness. He kept it in check so much of the time. But Sven worried more about the revelation of the secret, and so far keeping it hadn't kept them from being here, from representing their country.

  But as he drank water, watching his teammates squat and leg-lift and curl, he felt himself grow warm. Jan's beautiful upper body, trim and toned, Hans' tight calves, Olaf's gentle face. Olaf reached the nadir of his squat, and he made eye contact with Sven. Olaf's blue eyes always reminded Sven of the clear Swedish sky, and today Sven felt so light headed it was like he was a balloon, drowning in the cloudless blue.

  Sven shook his head to try to clear it, but Olaf put down the weights and joined Sven for a drink of water himself. "It's warm in here," Olaf remarked, taking off his shirt to reveal his muscles glistening underneath.

  "I could try to find the air conditioning," Sven volunteered, and Olaf laughed.

  "No, we'll be grateful for the memory of this warmth tomorrow," Olaf replied.

  Sven knew he should get back to his routine, but his body felt heavy, content, and then Hans and Jan joined them for water as well. A last workout was helpful, but maybe it wasn't a physical one they needed. Maybe it was an emotional one, a re-affirmation of the deep connection they shared.

  There was, of course, a physical workout he wouldn't mind. A physical workout that needed more than one person…

  Sven was so caught up in Olaf that he didn't even notice what was happening until Olaf whipped his head around. Sven followed his gaze, and was startled to find Jan and Hans kissing.

  "What are you doing?" Sven asked, almost offended that after keeping his inclinations hidden for so long, they would just kiss each other like they hadn't a care in the world.

  They broke apart, Jan blushing. "We're sorry," he said. "We know it isn't good for group morale to do something like this, but..."

  "It's okay," Sven replied, though inside he was burning, partially with jealousy and partially with a deep heat he couldn't articulate. He put a comforting hand on Hans' shoulder.

  "It is?" Olaf asked, looking between Jan and Hans, and Sven. He stepped to join them, their circle tight. "I never thought I could share..."

  "What?" Sven asked, not sure what he was hearing.

  "I'm attracted to men," Olaf said. "I never thought I could--"

  But Sven didn't let him finish, locking his lips over Olaf. And for a split second, he worried that maybe his impulse was wrong, that this was all a dangerous misunderstanding and everything would....but then Olaf was kissing him back, both men greedily trying to make up for lost time.

  Hans was already stripping down, Jan's hands eager on him. Sven and Olaf reconnected, lips and hands and teeth exploring bodies they already knew in intimate visual detail. Sven's fingers caught the waistband of Olaf's workout pants, sliding them over his firm hips, brushing the ridge of his Adonis belt.

  Olaf was already growing hard, so Sven took his dick in his hand, light touches at first as it grew larger and harder, then a firmer grip, rubbing against Olaf's shaft. Olaf moaned and leaned against Sven. Just as Sven was preparing to go down on his knees, he felt a hand at his own waist.

  The hand wasn't Olaf's. It was Hans'. Hans' eyes were slightly unfocused, occupied by the motion of Jan's hand on his cock, but he was still reaching for Sven. Sven fumbled with the drawstring on his workout pants, fingers ripping at the knot until his pants were free to slide down. Hans' hands were warm, his grip tight. Sven let out a shuddering breath at the all-encompassing feeling of Hans' strokes.

  His world narrowed down to two points: Hans' hand and his own, and Sven found himself stroking Olaf more roughly so that the two rhythms matched. Olaf responded to the change, his body arching, his voice low but wordless. His eyes opened, and his gaze flickered to Hans.

  Olaf smiled the lazy, confident smile that Sven loved so much, the look that reminded Sven of a tiger sizing up prey in the jungle, the smile Olaf gave movements before the whistle blew to begin their Olympic trial. Jan was looking at the smile as well, and when Olaf cocked his head, Jan moved to close the circle and Olaf reached for him.

  As Sven's world collapsed into nothing but the thought of physical pleasure, he reflected that this was the final link in their close-knit teamwork, the ultimate connection. They conformed to the way the others were stroking until they were one unit, until it felt like a jolt of energy was passing around the circle, hand-to-dick and back around again.

  Pressure grew within him, and Sven worried that he would be the one to break this glorious moment. The feeling felt so good, and to lean into it was the greatest temptation, but he wasn't ready for this to be over, for them to return to what they once were. It was a terrifying pleasure, dancing on the knifeblade between ecstasy and pain. Finally he could contain himself no further, and--

  As he gave in, fireworks exploding behind his eyes, feelings of shivery pleasure spreading from his core to the tips of his fingers and the ends of his toes, he felt Olaf's warmth in his hands, Olaf, too, going spineless with orgasm, as was Hans, as was Jan.

  Sven waited until he could take it no longer, then with shuddering fingers, pushed Hans' hand away gently. He let go of Olaf and slumped against his shoulder, both men breathing heavily. When he finally caught his breath, Sven looked up, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes, and Jan grinned widely.

  "How come we never told each other we're all gay?"

  Epilogue

  Dr. Lovetooth watched each event closely on his television. He smiled at every sign of his plan working: tousled hair, smudged lipstick, an unkempt snowsuit, a furtive glance between athletes. Occasionally he would see Amelia in the background, moving through the crowd or handing out water to thirsty athletes.

  He worked tirelessly on his plan for world-domination. His left hand stroking the ever-present erection and his right hand writing down the details of the Phase 2.

  He spoke out loud to the television when athletes were standing on the podium, their beaten rivals staring up at them in envy.

  “Don’t look so defeated, friends! I’ve given you the greatest trophy of all - a fuck trophy! Though it will take a few months for your trophies to be delivered!”

  He laughed the evil maniacal laugh of a man-possessed with ambition and delirium.

 
; When the closing ceremonies began he stood naked before his television with a bottle of Ambrosia water in hand. It was finally time for to try his own medicine and celebrate with an explosion to rival the colorful fireworks bursting above the stadium.