We have an excerpt from "Swimming the Distance" by Annabeth Albert in the Going for Gold: M/M Olympic Anthology.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You still want my help shaving?” His mouth asked the question even as his brain knew he should go back to sleep. Avoid reminders of how much he loved Bohdan and how much things were sucking right now. No. Not sucking. He wouldn’t let the Olympics take away everything good they had. He sat up more, shook out his tired muscles. We will make it.
“Please.” Bohdan bit his lip. His haunted expression from earlier was back. He should have been sleeping hours ago, not sneaking out to see Kyle, not fucking, not waking up in the middle of the night. But the naked need in his eyes told Kyle everything he needed to know.
Kyle turned and stroked Bohdan’s arms. Something was wrong — something sex hadn’t fixed, and Kyle felt powerless. He wanted to take away some of the melancholy chasing Bohdan.
“Into the shower with you. You bring the stuff?”
“In my backpack.”
The first time Kyle had watched Bohdan shave pre-meet, he’d been mesmerized. Bohdan said it was mainly a psychological thing — some swimmers said it made no difference, while others swore by pre-meet shaving. The second time Kyle had been with Bohdan pre-meet, he’d asked to help and from then on, it became kind of thing for them.
“Thanks.” Bohdan stared at the floor, sheepish look in his eyes.
“Hey.” He wrapped his arms around Bohdan, keeping his voice light. “You know this makes me hot.”
The contrast between fuzzy and smooth was wicked hot. Kyle had waxed his chest a couple of times back in his clubbing days, but he was fair enough that it didn’t make much of a difference. Bohdan, on the other hand, naturally had lots of dark, springy body hair, which Kyle loved feeling rub against him. And removing the fuzz, finding tawny skin underneath? Hawt.
“Fancy. These razors from the sponsor?” He put the supplies on the side of the tub and shucked his own clothes.
“Mmmhmmm.” Bohdan stood with his face in the spray, letting it pelt him, like a parched desert dweller, not a guy who spent up to eight hours a day in the water.
Bohdan had shaved for trials six weeks ago and for various photo shoots since, so his body hair was sparser than normal. He could have done the job himself in thirty minutes or less. Something pulled inside Kyle’s chest — it meant something that Bohdan had come to him for this, that he needed Kyle for something.
Grabbing the soap, he started lathering Bohdan’s chest and back. Bohdan leaned into him, bracing one arm against the tiled wall, muscles softening under Kyle’s touch. Kneeling, he worked a thick lather up both Bohdan’s legs.
“Totally wish I could have brought you along to rub me down for the stupid photo shoots.”
Kyle bit his tongue against all the reasons why Bohdan would never take him along for something like that. The same reasons that kept them home on the couch instead of out. Out. He’d promised not to argue tonight. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, letting the broad contours of Bohdan’s body distract him.
“Rinse.” He collected the razors and shaving cream. “Everything off?”
“Yeah.” Bohdan stretched his neck languidly. “Leave my balls and most of the pubes, but everything else.”
“Aw. Ball shaving was fun.” He clung to the teasing. It was getting harder to talk around the lump of emotion in his throat and the churning of his stomach. Not gonna think about tomorrow.
“Yeah, but what was fun was you fucking me after. Don’t have time for that now.”
Never enough time, yet time enough to hide. His mind wasn’t obeying commands to stop dwelling.
He started with Bohdan’s back, lathering up the broad expanse with shaving cream and then taking his time with long, slow passes of the razor. We. Will. Make. It. Each stroke became a prayer. He repeated the process with Bohdan’s arms.
Bohdan crossed his arms behind his head, biceps flexing, deltoids popping.
Kyle had always found the underarm area sexy on other men — exposed, yet hidden. Earthy. Intimate. Hard to tame. Slightly taboo. Shaving it on Bohdan made Kyle’s dick swell and his breath speed up. Down boy. Only your own hand for company later. He rinsed both sides before tracing one underarm with his tongue, nuzzling it, finding the hidden spots that made Bohdan moan or wiggle.
“You trying to kill me?”
Yes. “Trying to give you extra incentive to swim fast.”
Reluctantly, he moved onto the chest and stomach. Both were already pretty smooth — Kyle kind of missed Bohdan’s usual thick arrow of stomach fuzz.
Bohdan’s legs were another favorite of Kyle’s to shave. Strong. Powerful. Kyle ran and cycled and, thanks to Bohdan’s urging, had even signed up to do a triathlon. But his legs were nothing compared to Bohdan’s. From his wide feet to the curve of his ass, Bohdan was solid muscle. Kyle felt like a sculptor uncovering the subtle muscle definition from its covering of soft brown fuzz. He rubbed his face against the now smooth calves, tonguing behind Bohdan’s knees and over his hard thighs.
“Not fair.” Bohdan’s hard dick bobbled in front of Kyle’s face. He couldn’t resist a quick lick across the head. Bohdan rocked his hips forward, trying to press deeper into Kyle’s mouth.
But Kyle grabbed his hips and held him still. “Patience. Can’t send you into battle tomorrow only half done. Spin again.”
Bohdan’s frustrated moan made Kyle’s dick jump. He spun around, placing his arms against the tile wall and resting his head on his arms.
He’d purposely saved Bohdan’s ass for last. Technically, it was covered by the suit and didn’t require shaving. But Kyle was nothing if not thorough.
He did the backs of Bohdan’s bulky thighs, leaving a string of soft bites along the curve of his ass. Then he grabbed a fresh razor and did some serious manscaping. The competitive value might be zero, but seeing Bohdan’s world class ass all bare and porn star smooth and getting to apply his tongue and lips and teeth to the newly bare flesh was priceless.
“Fuck incentive. Wanna come.” Bohdan rocked into Kyle’s tongue.
“Don’t you want the edge of sexual frustration driving you to the finish line?”
“Want the edge of coming home to you.” He turned so his dick was back in front of Kyle. “You rimming me like that and fucking me senseless afterwards can be my incentive. You’re all I need.”
I need more. The thought was right there, before Kyle could push it away. He almost couldn’t do it, couldn’t suck more of Bohdan into him, couldn’t add one more memory of Bohdan all needy and vulnerable, yet bossy and toppy. He didn’t wait for Kyle to move, instead bumping his hips forward and brushing Kyle’s mouth with his dick.
Kyle’s own cock pulsed hard and heavy against his belly. It took over, making the decision for him. He opened his mouth, relaxed his jaw, and let Bohdan set the pace. Conscious of time ticking away, he teased the head, using all his tricks, tickling underneath Bohdan’s balls, scraping against the sensitive skin he’d uncovered earlier.
With his free hand, he worked himself, drinking in Bohdan’s gasps and murmurs. We. Will. Get. Through. This. Each thrust brought them closer, until Bohdan’s thighs tightened and he filled Kyle’s mouth. The salty tang tipped Kyle over, coating his fist in slick fluid. Unfortunately, his churning emotions didn’t wash away as easily.
Thanks to editor EM Lynley, who put together this terrific anthology, which reads yummy even without the competition in the background. Annabeth's story was one of my favorites in Going for Gold. Find my review here on site or here at Jessewave's.Going for Gold: A Gay Olympic Anthology
It's not hard to see the outward appeal of the Olympic Games: watching the fittest and most-accomplished athletes in the world compete---generally with fairly skimpy uniforms. Voyeurism aside, there's nothing sexier than a beautiful body running, jumping, swimming, rowing, and a couple dozen other activities. Who wouldn't take the chance to enjoy the spectacle?
But the Olympics are more than just a chance to watch athletes at the peak of physical perfection. Every competitor at the Games has a story behind why they run or jump or swim, and why they compete. How they got to the Games, and what they sacrificed along the way to make the cut. To spectators, they may perform superhuman feats, but each and every one is human in the same way we all are.
In this collection of stories, you'll find there's a lot more to competing at Olympic level than being the best in one's field. Expectations and pressures from family, friends, coaches and country add up, and sometimes it's only the love of the right man who can make the effort worth it. And sometimes, love is more important than going for gold.
Stories include: Hot Shots by Michael P. Thomas, Into the Deep by Nico Jaye, The Quad by Kelly Rand, Lightning in a Bottle by Sarah Madison, Swimming the Distance by Annabeth Albert, Shooting for Gold by Whitley Gray, Olympic Goal by K-lee Klein, Tumbling Dreams by Kaje Harper.