AmericasDarlings by Gail Bridges Page B

found my clit and I was almost happy. I smiled at him, allowing my eyes to leave the wonderful scene at my side. Maybe—just maybe—my life as an Olympian wasn’t over after all. I felt better than I had when I’d arrived. Much better. Even my toe didn’t hurt anymore.
    I looked back at my special couple. They hadn’t moved.
    But then Yuri blocked my view. He crouched, giving them a good long look. He stood again and shook his head, grinning.
    I squeezed Dmitri’s cock.
    We weren’t the only ones cheating. Other couples also moved in subtle ways, giving each other pleasure whenever they could get away with it, whenever Yuri wasn’t looking. Maybe this rampant cheating was part of the game? I liked this game more with every moment. Yuri moved around the room, weighing the creativity of the frozen couples. He stopped next to the “almost-but-not-quite” couple. He clapped his hands and said something in Russian.
    “They win,” translated Dmitri needlessly.
    The winners cheered.
    I cheered.
    A man from across the room shouted something that made everyone else laugh. The winners—finally, joyfully—completed their coupling with the entire room as an audience. After a few up-to-the-hilt thrusts they separated, panting and laughing. They pulled themselves from the couch and picked their way to the center of the room where they huddled together, whispering. They would be the leaders for the next round.
    The woman glanced in my direction, frowning.
    “Are you ready?” said Dmitri. “They choose next theme now!”
    I shouldn’t.
    I knew that. Coach Bob had been clear. No partying.
    What I ought to do was watch a few rounds, grab my bag, go back to my room and knit until I fell asleep. I ought to go before I did anything stupid. But I wanted to play, and badly. The Russians’ game was fun! I knew I could win.
    I bit my lip.
    I really, really liked winning.
    And I wasn’t being all bad…I was staying away from alcohol, wasn’t I?
    What harm could come if I stayed?
    “Yes,” I said, nodding, “I’m ready.”
    I kissed him.
    Dmitri grinned then bent his head and took a good long suck of my nipple. The people around us watched with undisguised interest, whispering to one another. He raised his head and licked his lips. Then he said something to them, looking quite smug. They laughed. A man pointed at my breast.
    My nipple stood out, hard. Oh yes. I was ready to play again.
    The winners shouted out the next prompt.
    “ Angry gorillas ,” translated Dmitri.
    The woman clapped her hands.
    Dmitri and I faced each other. We were gorillas!
    Angry gorillas!
    We circled each other. I barely noticed the other couples all around us as I hooted and scratched my armpits. Dmitri thumped his chest. I tried not to laugh. He grabbed my hips, shrieking, and forcefully turned my hairy gorilla ass to him as I flailed uselessly. He bounced up and down on the soles of his feet, hooting. He knocked me down on my knees and spread my legs. I shrieked! I was a furious she-gorilla! I turned my head, trying to bite him. He hit me on the small of the back with a heavy gorilla fist, taking my breath away, subduing me. Then—hooting in triumph—he forced his cock into me from behind like the silverback he was. Over and over he drove his angry penis into me. I shrieked again. I pounded the floor with a fist, snarling.
    This was fun! The slight pain in my back only put an edge to the passion.
    A whistle. We froze.
    I could feel his long, beautiful cock inside me, so different from Benson’s.
    Torture. Pure torture.
    I wanted more! I wanted more gorilla coupling, more in-and-out, more cock! More thumping from his gorilla fist, more animal lust claiming my body! But I was a competitor. I wanted to win this silly game. So Dmitri and I held our frozen position, his hips tight against my butt, his cock frozen in me, my fist in the air in preparation for striking the ground.
    We didn’t win.
    The couple on top of the table won.
    Dmitri gave me a