Freestyle Flirting: A Sweet Lesbian Romance

by Nicolette Dane

  I looked over to Amber and offered her a smile. Without hesitation she returned it.

  “You’re going to kick ass,” I said to her.

  “Thanks Marie,” she said. I could tell Amber was feeling happy. This was what I wanted. I could bury all the trouble she caused. I could forgive her. I just wanted to move on.

  It was Amber’s turn in the water, with Rachel popping up out the pool. I looked up to the scoreboard and saw that we were in the lead. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, I had prepared for this, I had meditated on my confidence that we would succeed, but there in the moment it was so crazy to believe that we were in first and holding. I watched Amber’s butterfly and cried out at her. Abigail slipped up behind me and wrapped her arm around my waist, giving me a one-armed hug.

  “This is looking good,” she said evenly, watching Amber near the wall from behind me.

  As I mounted the starting block, both Abigail and Rachel behind me, my eyes were glued to Amber. She looked huge as she swam back toward us, arms wide as she surfaced, mouth agape and pulling in breaths, the water splashing around her. I couldn’t even see the other swimmers in the adjoining lanes. It was like I had tunnel vision. And as Amber neared, my time to swim upon me, all the speed I’d been feeling for the whole experience was totally decimated. Now I was operating in slow motion. Each second feeling like a minute.

  I quickly looked behind me and saw Abigail and Rachel, both cheering as Amber approached. Then I looked back to Amber, so close, just about to touch the wall.

  Then she touched. And before I could process anything else I was already deep in the water, my legs pumping together, eyes wide open underneath my dark goggles as I saw the waviness of the water parting while I cut deeply through it. The cheering from the crowd was gone, replaced with muted bubbling of an underwater world. I had trained so hard for this moment and as I was living it, I felt accomplished and ready and like nothing could stop me.

  When I came out of the water and began my stroke, I once more heard the roar of the crowd, punctuated by the intense splashing of water around my ears. One ear down, one ear up, then switch. My arms cranking, pulling me along through the drag of the water one arm’s length at a time. I could feel my heart pumping hard, each short breath I was able to take bringing joy to my muscles. Then the flip, my body turning over itself, feet pressing against the wall, kicking off and propelling me once more underwater. I really had no idea where I was on my freestyle leg but at this point it didn’t matter. There were only 50 meters, less even at that point, between me and the end of the race.

  As I levitated there in the water, my strokes hard and fast, my lissome body slipping though the water, I caught a quick glimpse of my teammates standing on the deck. They were cheering me on, pumping their fists, the three of them intently staring at me in the water as I cut through it. It was a blur for me. I had swam as anchor so many times, through so many competitions, that it was second nature. It was my natural state. It just felt right. That’s all I knew. This was where I belonged, in the water, pushing myself, supporting my team, trying with all my might to succeed.

  I felt my fingertips touch the tile wall of the pool and I stopped. It was over. The splashing. The stroking. It was done. I treaded for a moment, legs kicking underneath. I didn’t know what was going on but I heard screaming behind me. I turned and looked up at my team. They were excited. I looked up to the scoreboard. I stared at it, trying to make sense. Then my eyes return to my team, still enthused, wailing, looking down at me. I looked to the scoreboard again.

  Then my brain processed it all. My eyes widened, I smacked the water hard, and I screamed out.

  We had won the medley. The USA had taken Gold.

  The entire Team USA was thrilled for us. Of course we had been the favorites but you never know when it comes to sport. One team could be having a bad day, another team could be on point. We celebrated with both the men and women teams that evening, joining the other Medal winners in revelry. The coaches had reserved a room in a local restaurant for dinner and we went nuts. I wore my Gold Medal around my neck. I couldn’t help it. I was in awe. In awe of myself, in awe of my team. Looking around that private room in the restaurant, gazing at all the Medals, I felt like I was in Heaven. I don’t know how to describe it any other way.

  Paul approached me with a grin on his face. He lifted his hand up and I slapped my hand into it, the two of us gripping onto one another with firmness. He was wearing three Gold Medals around his neck. Yeah. Pretty crazy. But he was a star, one of the best swimmers to ever compete. He was certainly in for more Medals in his coming events.

  “Dude,” said Paul. “That was such an intense race. You made me almost shit my pants when you jumped off the block and lost a tenth. That Japanese chick was ahead of you by, like, this much,” he said, holding up his hand and making the smallest of spaces between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Are you coming over here to criticize me?” I asked with a wry smirk. I sipped from my drink, a vodka cranberry, the very rarest of alcoholic drinks. It tasted bad, as I was so unaccustomed to the alcohol flavor. I’m sure I made a face as I sipped it.

  “Naw,” he said, smiling and looking off. “You killed it. I was so pumped to see you win. Good job.”

  Even though Paul was the face of Team USA, the guy in the commercials, the household name, the swimmer that all of America rooted for, he never seemed to let any of that go to his head. He was a team member like everyone else, just the same, just trying to compete and achieve his goals. It was really reassuring.

  “It’s insane, Paul,” I admitted. “After all I’ve been through, to experience this, I mean, I can hardly believe it.”

  “Your parents would have been really proud of you, Marie,” he said. “I know they would have.”

  He was right. He did know. Paul knew my parents. He had swam for U of M a few years before me, trained there, and he even had my mother as his professor at one time. I wanted to cry when he said that, but I held it together. It wasn’t a time for sadness. It was a time for celebration.

  “Stop,” I said, looking off, feeling a little nervous laugh in my throat.

  “Get ready,” said Paul. “If you win your individual, too, I’m sure there will be some media clamor around you. You’ll probably get invited on to talk shows, do that circuit,” he said, shaking his head, obviously remembering doing it all 4 years ago. “It’s crazy. It happens fast.”

  “Don’t try to put any ideas in my head,” I said. “I can barely process this.” I told hold of my Medal, feeling its weight, and flipped it out from my chest.

  “I’m rooting for you over Amber,” admitted Paul, a bit of devilishness in his eyes.

  “I don’t care about that anymore,” I said. “Amber and I have made our peace. I just want us both to Medal. That’s all I can ask for.”

  “Good on you, Marie,” he said. “But don’t lose your competitive edge. I think you’ve got another Gold in you.” With that, Paul grinned one last time at me, wrapped a single arm around me and pulled me in for a hug. We stood there for a moment, embracing. For the longest time I had felt so distant from people, all people, even my teammates, my coaches, my friends and what was left of my family. But I really felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself there in Rio. It melted away my barriers, the wall I had put up around myself. The feelings were really beginning to come back. I mean, I know I’ve talked a lot of feelings to you so far but I mean the empathetic feelings. The feelings directed outward. The feelings that made me feel connected to other people.

  And then, once Paul flitted away to go bro out with the guys, I caught eyes with Dasha. I couldn’t help it. Of course I’d been looking at her the whole evening at the restaurant. Can you blame me? It was one of those things where you’re staring at the person, thinking to yourself, “look over here, look over here,” and then they finally look and you smile demurely and look away. After a few moments of playing against each other with our eyes, Dasha stood up from her
seat and slinked over to the hightop table I was hanging around.

  “What is this?” she asked as she approached, making a face and pointing down to my drink sitting on the table. She looked disgusted and stuck her tongue out.

  “I’m celebrating,” I said, looking down at my drink and giving it a quick stir with the straw.

  “It’s not over yet,” she said.

  “I don’t even like it,” I said. “I ordered it to fit in and have the celebratory look. You know I don’t drink.”

  “I know,” said Dasha, softening. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Have at it!” She threw her hands up in mock frustration. “Get drunk, lose your competitive edge.”

  “Dasha!” I protested with a laugh. I softly rested my palm on her shoulder. “C’mon.” Her pretend chastising felt flirty and nice. It made me warm inside.

  “Perhaps I need some of that,” she said, swiftly reaching for my glass and taking a sip. After she swallowed, she coughed and brought her hand to her mouth.

  “Slow down,” I teased, lightly patting her on the back.

  “It tastes like cleaning solution,” she said. “I don’t understand how people drink it.”

  “I think sugary mixers help,” I said.

  “Bah,” said Dasha, flippantly waving her hand.

  There was a pregnant moment between us, a moment of silence, of potential, almost a dare as to who would speak next. Finally, unable to last any longer, I cracked a smile and opened my mouth.

  “Can we start over?” I asked. “I mean, it feels like we hit this speed bump and we weren’t wearing seat belts. We got tossed around a bit.”

  “My career is really important to me,” mused Dasha. “I love what I do.”

  “I think we’re going to be okay,” I said. “Amber has come around. I don’t know, something changed in her, some switch flipped being here in Rio. Our teamwork and our winning melted her.”

  “It’s still…” began Dasha. “A bit improper.”

  “Not for much longer,” I whispered with a smile.

  Dasha looked off for a moment and then casually stepped closer to me. I could feel the heat between us. It was familiar. It was wanted. It was needed.

  “Perhaps I was a bit hasty,” admitted Dasha. “I was scared. I worked very hard to get where I am.”

  “As did I,” I said. “I’m not looking to throw my hard work away either.”

  “I just don’t want to throw you off your game,” she said while simultaneously sliding her hand over to me and caressing her palm over my lower back. “You need to keep your head in it.” Then Dasha looked around suspiciously. “If you’re going to beat Amber,” she said in the lowest murmur.

  “That’s becoming a theme,” I grinned.

  “What?” said Dasha with a bemused look on her face.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Don’t worry about anything.”

  “That Gold Medal looks good on you,” she said. “Brings out your eyes.”

  “C’mon Dasha,” I protested with bashfulness. I felt really awesome with that Medal around my neck. It made me feel supremely accomplished and hungry for another.

  “Look,” she said, leaning in even closer, her lips lingering around my ears. “I still want to keep this a secret for the time being. We can’t give the team any kind of weird drama. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I confirmed. “I think you’re just jazzed up by life in the Olympic Village,” I teased. “It’s obvious that there’s a bit of desire in the air.”

  “Oh, stop!” she said, her pale cheeks becoming slightly rosy. “You’re crazy.”

  I looked around the room, surveying the attentions of the other team members and coaches, listening to the din of muddled conversations, laughs and joyful screams. It was orchestral in its conviviality. Assured that I could speak freely without anyone else overhearing us, I offered Dasha a smile.

  “I really want to kiss you,” I admitted.

  “Stop,” replied Dasha in a whisper, but I could tell it made her excited.

  “And more than that,” I said. “I want what comes after kissing, too.”

  Dasha now looked around the room, just as I had, trying to make sure we were sequestered enough for relative privacy. Once she was assured that she couldn’t be heard, she too dissolved into our mutual flirtation.

  “I really missed you,” she said. “I hated having to back off.”

  “I think we just need to live our lives,” I said. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my life, it’s that happiness can be taken from you at a moment’s notice. So when you do find some love, you need to hold on to it, cherish it, and give in to it with all your heart.”

  “Straight from a greeting card,” joked Dasha.

  “Hey!” I said, smacking her lightly on the arm. “I was trying to be sweet.”

  “You don’t have to try,” she said. “You just are.”

  After the team dinner, we all returned to the Olympic Village together to turn in for the night and get some rest for the next day’s continuation of the games. Dasha and I brought up the rear of our group, slowly sauntering down the hall of the hotel as the rest of our team moved forward without us. It was by design. We wanted some alone time.

  As we walked, sure that we weren’t being watched by anybody on our team, I gingerly moved my hand to Dasha’s and knitted our fingers together, ending the movement in an eager squeeze. Dasha squeezed back. We smiled at each other.

  “This is your room, isn’t it?” she asked as we approached the door to my room.

  “Maybe,” I said. “Let’s keep going.”

  We continued our walk down the hall, speedily releasing each other’s hand when we saw one of the guys from the team coming toward us. We said goodnight to him as he waved to us with a smile and we kept moving. I could feel my heart rate doubling, the excitement within me mounting. My skin felt warm.

  And then Dasha unlocked her door, opened it up, and we glided inside, first me and then her. As soon as the door was shut and locked, in the low light of Dasha’s room there in the Olympic Village, we embraced and pushed our lips together. I was hungry for her, so missing the taste of her kisses, the wetness of her mouth. Our kiss was immediately passionate. I had missed her.

  “Mmm,” I moaned softly between kisses. “Hello there.”

  “Hi,” said Dasha with a soft giggle, reaching forward to steal another kiss from me.

  Together we maneuvered toward’s Dasha’s bed, lips still locked, hands coursing over one another’s bodies. We were both in our team tracksuits, emblazoned with logos and flags. I was beginning to feel really heated, intensely warm under my clothes, wishing that I could just snap my fingers and all the material would fall off me.

  I pulled back from Dasha and gave her an excited grin, which she mimicked. We were both burning for one another, that much was obvious. I swiftly unzipped my jacket and yanked it off, Dasha following my lead once she saw what I was doing. Next came my pants and after quickly pushing them down my legs and stepping out of them, I flung myself on the bed and crawled up toward the pillows wearing just a tank and panties. Reaching over to Dasha’s bedside table, I grabbed a hair tie and put my hair back as I watched Dasha follow me up onto the bed. She was in just her t-shirt and panties as well. I still had my Medal hanging around my neck.

  Dasha saddled up to me and wrapped her arms around me, the two of us returning to our kiss. This time it was slower, more sultry, potent with heated lust. I felt a gentle rumbling, a tightness, low in my stomach as Dasha’s hand seductively moved down over it and rested at just the top of my panties.

  “This is so nice,” I cooed, enjoying the feeling of Dasha’s attentions, her hand beginning a more furious circular rub just below my navel. The weight of my Medal felt heavy on my chest until it gradually slid to the side and plopped down onto the bed.

  “I missed you,” murmured Dasha into my lips. Our eyes met and held each other for a tender moment. The connection between us was transcendent, something I couldn’t quit
e comprehend but I didn’t question it. Sometimes you just have to give in to life’s magic.

  I felt Dasha’s hand slip down into my panties, her wrist stretching the elastic of the band as her fingers walked downward, caressing over my moistening folds. My head fell back into the pillows and I moaned. I had been longing for this, desire aflame in my heart.

  As Dasha rubbed me down below, I hurriedly went to remove my tank top. Pulling it up over my head, I made sure to thread my Medal through the neck so that once I had the top removed, I was still wearing my Medal, the prize hanging down now over my bare chest. Dasha grinned at me and bounced up from her lying position, sitting up on her knees as I squirmed there on the bed in just my Medal and thin panties.

  “You are so gorgeous, Marie,” admitted Dasha, lovingly looking down at me. Her warm hand grazed over my belly.

  “You’re just blinded by this,” I said, taking hold of my Medal and showing it off.

  “I have one of those,” she said with a smirk.

  “I don’t believe it’s this color,” I teased. With that, Dasha took hold of the top of my panties and gave them a tug, causing them to ride up in front and leave, um, very little to the imagination. “Hey!” I called out, pumping my legs back and forth.

  “I’m your coach,” said Dasha. “You tease me, I punish you.”

  “How about I tease you, you please me?” I crooned.

  “Hmm,” mused Dasha mockingly. “I think that could be arranged.”

  Dasha lowered her face down toward my midsection and began kissing my stomach in a sweet circle, each time her lips pressed to my skin she left a small wet mark. I purred and wriggled into the sheets, my arms moving up into the pillows as I searched for something to hold onto. I don’t think I was ever more carefree and at peace than I was in that anticipatory moment.

  I felt my panties being pulled down off my hips, the fabric being guided down my legs, until they were pulled off my feet. Then Dasha’s hand gradually moved between my legs, touching me, pressing against my fur as she began to stroke. My head dropped further, eyes squinting, mouth agape. I felt loved. I felt wanted. It was amazing. I spread my legs and gave my body to her, impatient for her ardor.