Chapter 43: Greetings Y’all!

Femke

Thankfully Mark’s bout of being utterly horrified with himself was short-lived. I was quick to explain that Shirin did not have a boyfriend, or not anymore since January. Her beau had lacked the patience to wait three weeks for her return and had sought companionship elsewhere. That was a lot of relief for him.

And secondly, considering she put a hot smooch on Mark afterwards, it was clear that Shirin was anything but upset about the incident.

“Now I have an idea why you’ve been on fire since Mark started showing up at our races,” she mentioned with a grin.

“Yep, golden hands,” Meri quipped.

Mark

After two quiet days in Pasadena, we had moved to Telluride for some last minute altitude training. Since this wasn’t an official team camp, we were just the four of us. Shirin did get to enjoy the ‘extended massage’ a few times more, on the understanding that this was as far as things would go and would immediately end if she got herself a new boyfriend. She agreed with that.

After nine days it was time to relocate to Georgia for the big event.

Of course over here our unique relationships counted for nothing. I was not an athlete, so I had to book and pay for a hotel myself. Since the Olympics were on only once every four years, Lydia had insisted we go all out and book me into a hideously expensive noble suite in a five-star hotel. Neither she, nor Meri and Femke had too much desire to spend all their time in the rather spartan Olympic Village.

One of the good things was, they had the best internet connection I had ever seen and since internet search engines had finally reached a point at which they had become usable, I could finally catch up on what was happening back in Germany.

It seemed Jenny had burned some serious rubber. She was miles ahead in the championship. Now in her second year she knew all the tracks and many of the posh boys who had tormented her last year had graduated to the next higher class.

Over the last two days in Telluride I had been involved in some heavyweight logistics planning. We had lost the services of Fred and Jack at the end of 1995 as they finally started their own charter business. Lydia and I had become minority shareholders to inject some more cash for them to get off to a good start. Theoretically we could now just hire them on a flight by flight basis, but that didn’t always work out and we often had to use the two new pilots John had hired.

This time though they were available for a rather complex mission. After flying us to Atlanta, they went back to Pasadena, flew Jonjo over to Emden and collected Regina there to fly her out to Atlanta. Of course she would stay with me. Jonjo had also planned to come to Georgia, wanting to see how Mrs. K would be doing in her second Olympic Games, but in the end he decided to be Jenny’s race engineer again for the last three races. That boy’s term breaks were busman’s holidays.

Regina

My Lord! Three years ago I had left my old rickety council flat in Cottbus, and now this! This wasn’t a suite, it was a palace. Everything was so posh, I barely dared to touch anything.

Right now I was sitting in a jacuzzi for the first time in my life, next to Mark and we were watching the Opening Ceremony on TV. Everything was very colorful, very loud, and very American. But we concentrated more on the athletes as they marched in.

Normally we would have expected to catch a glimpse of Femke first, as the Netherlands came much earlier along the alphabet than the United States, but since the order went by French names, due to the modern Olympic Games having been invented by a Frenchman, we caught sight of Lydia and Meri first. They were walking side by side at the left side of the Americans’ large group of athletes.

Since les Pays-Bas came much later than États-Unis d’Amérique we had to wait quite a bit for Femke to arrive, but she was hard to miss. Normally countries selected a sturdy rower or track and field athlete to carry their flag, but there was our favorite muscled babe proudly carrying the Dutch flag, grinning from ear to ear.

Mark

Only Meri dropped by the next day. I had stayed in since Regina was still too jet-lagged to venture into the city and I didn’t want to leave her alone in the unknown surroundings. Lydia and Femke already had their first event the next day – the individual time trial on the road – and wanted to concentrate on their preparation, although I was quite sure Femke would find a way to show up in the evening for her ‘good-luck boink’.

I left Regina and Meri to get reacquainted, quite enthusiastically by the sound of it. After all they hadn’t seen each other for three weeks, and there was the added reason for celebration that Regina was now a certified English and Music teacher in good standing. As I had predicted, she had aced her state exam easily, with only a minor wobble in the piano exam. But the only B in a sea of straight A’s was hardly a reason to be dissatisfied with the result.

Normally they would at some point ask me to become part of their love-making – they almost always did when I was available – but both knew that Femke was likely to show up in the evening and they didn’t want to take too much out of me beforehand.

Lydia

Although we would go back to the Olympic village early in the evening, there was no way Femke would miss their cherished ritual of getting a darn good seeing-to from Mark before a big race. As usual, I had had first dibs on being the fluffer who took the edge off him, but now I was watching the spectacle from the jacuzzi, together with Meri and Regina.

Deciding that when we all gave up our chance for a roll in the hay with the coveted only male specimen in our group, Femke had decided that they could at least put on a show for us, and it certainly worked for Meri and Regina, who were too busy with each other to really pay attention.

I, however did. I liked Marks new physique. He had given up his weight training mostly, and was looking a bit leaner now. He was still muscular and well sculpted, but the large biceps had given way to more moderate ones. And with less oversize muscles to burn all that oxygen, he had definitely gotten more stamina, something that was always a good idea when trying to make Femke orgasm. Mark had found a few tricks to make her climax relatively quickly with his fingers or his tongue, but when they did the deed, he still had his work cut out for him.

Her boobs – which had taken their final shape in late ‘94 – were bouncing as she rode him reverse cowboy style to give us a good look at how Marks large organ repeatedly disappeared into her. Not that anyone but me paid attention. Regina and Meri were all over each other’s tits. I wondered if they would beat Mark and Femke to the punch.

I didn’t have to wonder for long, as Regina came just a few moments later, closely followed by Meri. Apparently this was infectious as Femke followed almost instantaneously.

She and Mark joined us in the jacuzzi to cool off and Regina blew the stuck load out of him as he hadn’t cum while doing it with Femke. That girl would have made a fine diver. She didn’t have to blow him very long, but she did so without coming up for air once.

Mark

Meri, Lydia and Femke had soon left for the Olympic village to make sure they got into bed early, and Regina and I called it an early night too, mostly to get her internal clock adjusted to the correct time zone for the next day.

We waited until after lunch to go and watch the time trial. As their countries’ respective national champions both Lydia and Femke were starting relatively late. As was normal for a time trial, or cycling races in general, one didn’t really see much of the race from the side of the track, we would be watching most of it on the large view screens, showing the world feed TV coverage.

Lydia went first, and having seen some of the riders before her, I knew the level here was way above what she was up against in the US championships, and she had won those by only a few seconds last year. I could see she took noticeably longer to get up to full speed compared to the riders before her. Once up to speed though, she was riding at a faster cadence than she had done last autumn in Philadelphia. By that time we were already watching her on the screens.

Femke rolled off the ramp twelve minutes later and with a much bigger sense of urgency. She arrived at her cruising speed a lot quicker than Lydia. But Lydia had an ace up her sleeve. Among all those big-engined athletes she looked like the odd-woman out, but she needed to expend less energy to reach the same speed and thus she wouldn’t tire so easily.

At twenty-six kilometers the course was only half as long as the men’s race, but it was a fairly normal distance for a women’s race, which meant there were bound to be some athletes who would overcook it. The initial signs were good. Lydia remained in the top five when she passed the intermediate points, but there were quite a few still coming through behind her, and one of those was Femke. She was tearing up the intermediate times, only to have them beaten narrowly by France’s Jeannie Longo who had started last.

Lydia had started slow, but she was steadily gaining time. When she crossed the line, she had taken a narrow lead, but from the intermediate times we knew she wouldn’t keep it for long. For her this race had been a mere warm up for the 10K and the marathon, and a case of not saying no when your nation asks you to represent it in the biggest sporting event in the world.

When Femke romped home a few minutes later, she smashed the then leading time of a Canadian girl by nearly forty seconds. Now it was a case of waiting for the grand dame of French cycling, the only athlete in the field who was even older than Lydia. Now Femke had to wait which color her medal would have.

And it was Gold! Her lead at the last intermediate had been just two seconds, so it was obvious that Longo had run a bit out of steam towards in the latter stages. When she crossed the line, she had lost 20 seconds on the winner – our favorite muscle babe.

Lydia finished a respectable seventh.

Regina

Celebratory sex was not an option. Femke and Meri would have to run the road race right the next day, and Lydia would have to run the first of two preliminary races for the 10.000 meters. They all stayed in the Olympic village. Mark and I spent most of the evening on the hilariously comfy sofa and later the jacuzzi to watch the day’s events.

Unlike for the worlds last year in Sweden, the scheduling had been a bit more kind to Lydia this time around. The preliminary races for the 10K were six and four days before the marathon and the finale four days after it.

Since there were going to be two events at the same time, we had decided to split up for the day. I would return to the cycling venue, while Mark went to watch his better half in her preliminary race over ten kilometers.

The women’s road race was just 104 kilometers long, quite a bit shorter than for instance that crazy last stage in the Belgian race and it didn’t have any too difficult hills in it. The pace was accordingly high right from the start. A few riders got into a breakaway group, including Femke, but they never got more of a gap than two minutes on the main bunch. Even I knew this wasn’t going to be enough.