I swallowed his cum in the Olympic Village [MF]

This is it. I’ve made it.

I stare up at the huge Parisian hotel, looming over me against the pale pink sky. The street is nearly deserted, thanks to my disgusting early flight from Australia, but it’s giving me a moment to take stock at least. I inhale deeply, close my eyes, and grin.

Not only am I officially now an Olympian, I’m also at the Olympic Village. And I know exactly what that means.

I open my eyes and step into the foyer.

“Bonjour!” the receptionist greets me with a practised smile. “English?”

“Yep,” I reply, looking around. There’s a few people hanging around, either waiting for someone or having an early breakfast before training.

“May I have your name for check-in?”

“Kate Thompson.”

“Merci,” the receptionist types my name into her computer. “Your roommate will be arriving tomorrow so you have the room to yourself for now.”

“Perfect,” I grin, accepting the key card she gives me. As I do so, I catch the eye of someone staring at me.

A guy, tall and broad, walking back from the on-site gym. Or, I’m assuming so since he’s wearing shorts and no top. His body glistens, his muscles moving hypnotically. The corner of his mouth tugs upward when I don’t take my eyes away from his.

Bingo.

“Thanks very much,” I hurriedly finish my conversation with the receptionist and follow the guy towards the lifts, dragging my luggage behind me. He gives me a sideways look as I catch-up to him waiting outside the lift doors.

“Up or down?” he asks.

“Up, please,” I give my best smile back, letting my gaze trail over him. He straightens his shoulders, clearly pleased with the attention. “Good workout?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to work up a sweat first thing,” he replies and I’m able to place his accent, somewhat. American. I can’t quite figure out where, maybe California? God, I’m so shit with accents.

“I agree,” I say just as the lift pings, alerting us of its arrival. “I love a morning workout.”

I lay it on thick and he notices, glancing at me as we step into the lift. As soon as the doors close, I turn to face him. I don’t waste any time and lean forward, running my tongue along his throat. He steps back, pressing himself against the side of the lift and shudders. Dipping his head, he presses his mouth against mine.

My fingers find the band of his shorts and I push my way down and under the fabric. He’s already hard and I wrap my hand around him, hearing his hoarse gasp as I do so.

“Goddamn, you don’t hang about,” he says, his voice muffled against my mouth. I smile and slide my tongue across his bottom lip as I start stroking. I rub my thumb across the sensitive part under his cockhead and his legs nearly buckle underneath him.

Around us, the lift continues to move up smoothly. I glance at the floor numbers churning higher.

“How fast can you cum for me?” I whisper and he whimpers in reply. I squeeze him slightly, pumping my fist up and down his cock.

“N-not long,” he gasps. I keep my movements graceful, like silk, caressing him and feeling him throb under my touch. His hand grabs the handrail to steady himself.

I look down and watch his abs contract, tense and as hard as rock. I want to lick the sweat from them.

And then the lift starts to slow down. I abruptly pull away, swivelling to the side to stand next to him. He shakily straightens as the doors open.

“Bonjour,” one of the hotel staff politely inclines his head at us and steps in.

“Bonjour,” I reply, as though I hadn’t been jerking off some random guy a few seconds earlier. The doors slide shut and the lift starts moving up again. I cast a sideways glance at the American and see him struggling to hide the tent in his shorts. A bead of sweat trails down from his temple.

A few floors up, the lift stops again. The hotel staff exits; if he’d noticed anything, he pretends not to. As soon as the doors close again, I sink to my knees.

“Let me taste it,” I tell him and he gapes down at me, seemingly too shocked at his good fortune to move.

I pull down his shorts just enough for his cock to spring free and, conscious that the floors are quickly ticking upwards, I envelop him between my lips.

“Jesus Christ,” he throws his head back and places a large hand on the back of my head. I grab the base of his shaft with one hand and start stroking again, keeping my mouth around his cockhead. He tastes salty and pleasant so I flick my tongue across the underside and feel him start to tense.

The lift starts to slow again as we approach my floor. Just as it does, the American gives a low moan and tangles his fingers in my hair. His cum explodes in my mouth, coating my tongue. I keep stroking him, milking him for all he’s worth. My eyes glance up to see him watching me swallow his load.

Ding.

As the doors open, I expertly tuck him back into his shorts and stand up. I casually wipe my thumb across the corner of my mouth, sucking off the last of his cum.

“Thanks!” I say brightly and exit the lift, leaving him dazed and speechless in my wake.

*

My room is pretty nice; open and bright with two sets of single beds on each side. To one side, there’s a door leading off to a spacious bathroom. And there’s also someone already in there.

“Oh, hi,” I say to the maid straightening the bed covers. She jumps and looks at me.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “Je suis désolé! I am so sorry, Madame, I did not think anyone would be checking in. I have not finished cleaning your room.”

I let the door close behind me and dump my luggage on the plush, carpeted floor.

“Looks pretty clean to me,” I say, scanning the room. She must have been finishing up.

“It is not quite to my standards, Madame, my apologies,” she replies, her French accent thick. I appraise her then.

She’s shapely and maybe a few years older than me, with her dark hair in a neat bun and just a hint of cleavage in her maid uniform. Pretty, I think.

“D’you know what its like at the Olympic Village?” I ask, putting one hand on my hip. The maid doesn’t say anything but her cheeks tinge with pink. I take that as a yes. “Are you open to it?”

She chews her lip for a moment, eyes wide.

“I am here to serve Madame in whatever capacity,” she eventually replies and a slow smile crosses my face.

“Excellent answer,” I say. “I’ve just blown a guy in the lift and now I’m pretty horny.”

“Ah… I see, Madame,” she casts her eyes downwards shyly but I see her squirm slightly, rubbing her thighs together under her skirt. So, I think to myself. She’s horny too.

I cross the room and lie on the bed, feeling a bit bad that I’m ruining her neatly made sheets, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her eyes follows me the whole time, watching as I settle back on the pillows.

“A nice massage would be great,” I tell her. “There’s oil in my bag.”

Pink blush spreads across her cheeks.

“Of course, Madame.”

She retrieves the oil for me and by the time she returns, I’ve discarded my leggings and top so I’m lying naked on my stomach. I tuck my arms underneath my head, enjoying the cool air as it tickles my skin.

Being naked is natural to me. It’s my favourite state to be in, ever since I travelled around Europe and lived in a “free use” house for a while. I smile to myself and close my eyes, fondly remembering the times I would be bent over the kitchen counter when I was half-way through washing the dishes or waking up to one of my room mates cock inside me. I sigh contentedly and wait for the maid.

I feel her a few moments later, the mattress sinking slightly as she joined me on the bed again. I can sense her hesitation and turned my head to look at her.

“Hey, it’s cool if you don’t want to,” I say. “Just say the word and we can stop.”

She shakes her head.

“No, Madame,” she replies firmly. “I am here to service you.”

Her words make something warm unspool in the bottom of my stomach and I grin, turning back to rest my head on my arms.

I hear the crack of the massage oil being opened and the wet sound of her spreading it onto her hands. A few moments later, her soft hands start gliding up the back of my thighs.

Her grip is gentle and firm at the same time, pressing into the muscles of my legs pleasantly.

“Mmm,” I give a low moan, closing my eyes in bliss. “You’re good at this.”

“Merci, Madame,” she replies and I can hear the smile in her voice.

Her hands continue to trail up and down, up and down, gently plying me. With each stroke, she moves further and further up, until she’s softly kneading my ass. She pauses briefly to apply more massage oil and her movements spread me open for her, exposing my ass and pulling my lips apart.

Slowly, almost teasingly, she slips a finger between my legs. She runs her forefinger along my slit before sinking it inside me. I moan and clench around her as she fingers me slowly.

“Does this feel good, Madame?” she asks, her voice quiet.

“So good,” I confirm, raising my hips slightly so she could go deeper. “Keep going.”

She obliges, picking up speed slightly and adding a second finger. It stretches me slightly but in a good way and I spread my legs further. I know my pussy is gushing because I can hear it as she pumps her fingers in and out of me.

And then she withdraws them. I’m left feeling empty where her fingers had been and nearly turn my head back but then…

Then her mouth is on me.

Her lips are soft and warm against mine, her tongue dipping out teasingly to lick me. Her oil-soaked hands grab my cheeks, pushing them apart so she can have better access to me. I shudder and moan under her touch, her tongue deftly brushing over my clit before sucking on it gently.

“Ah, that’s it…” I gasp, feeling my orgasm build. “Right there…”

She does what I say, continuing to suck my sensitive bud steadily, not slowing down or speeding up. I rise my hips up, pushing my pussy against her face, desperate for more. I end up nearly on my hands and knees, my back arched and my face against the pillow. She grips my hips, keep my to her as she feasts on me.

“Yes!” I cry out, my orgasm washing over me. I buck underneath her with the intensity of it, my toes curling and my hands gripping the sheets. She only pulls back when I utter a weak, “Stop.”

I collapse onto the bed with a loud exhale, followed by a giggle.

“Wow,” I say and flip onto my back.

The maid is smiling shyly, her face glistening with my juices.

“Have I serviced you well, Madame?” she asks, as though she’s only changed my towels and not given me a crazy good orgasm.

“Oh, yeah,” I laugh. “Yeah, you serviced me well.”

She inclines her head politely before climbing off the bed. She pulls a tissue from a pocket in her skirt and she wipes her mouth with it. There’s something about the way she does it, almost practiced, that makes me squint suspiciously.

“You weren’t really here cleaning my room, were you?” I ask and her eyes go wide.

“I-I do not know what you mean, Madame,” she stammers back, clenching the tissue in her fist.

“Suuuure,” I give a sly grin.

She nearly smiles back but catches herself before giving me a quick curtsey and swiftly leaving my room.

“Interesting,” I muse to myself before tucking my arms under the back of my head. I stare up at the ceiling thoughtfully. The orgasm the made gave me was great but I’m not used to having just one; I need a few before I’m really satisfied. I wonder if the guy from the lift is still around?

I get up and pull my luggage over, rifling through my bags until I pull a fresh pair of clothes free. I don’t like the idea of putting clothes on but, despite the lenient rules of the hotel, I would definitely get in trouble if I didn’t. Once I’m dressed, I make my way down to the foyer. I secretly hope I’ll find him in the lift again but its disappointingly empty and I ride my way down through the floors alone.

The hotel is a lot busier now, bustling with a fresh load of new people checking in and everyone who’s finished their morning workout on their way to breakfast. I keep an eye out for the anonymous elevator guy but the foyer is a blur of people.

After a few minutes of no luck and with a stomach that’s starting to rumble, I resign myself to breakfast. It’s important to fuel up, after all, when you plan on fucking for several weeks.

The hotel restaurant is cute, cheap(er than the rest of Paris) and the closest place for food, so I head there first. But when I see the large queue outside, I quickly do a U-turn and leave the hotel in search of food elsewhere.

It’s a beautiful day outside. The sun shines brilliantly overhead and the morning air still has a slight crisp to it. I inhale deeply, feeling it fill my lungs and grin to myself.

I’ve been to Paris before, of course, when I travelled around Europe, but it was a quick and cheap stay in a tiny hostel and I only got a day to see as much as I could before I needed to catch the train into Switzerland. Now, though, I could enjoy myself a little bit more. Although, it could be argued that I already was.

I slide my hands into my pockets and leisurely walk down the busy street with the idea that there’ll be some restaurant that’s free for breakfast, I’ll just keep asking until I find one.

The third restaurant I try has a table free, but only for thirty minutes. I happily accept and sit myself down at a cosy, two-person table. I order something protein-heavy that my coach would be happy with and a glass of orange juice, but I haven’t even got my order yet when a shadow falls over my table.

“I thought I had thirty minutes…” I trail off when I look up and see who’s standing over me.

The American.

He’s fully dressed this time, although I can still see the muscles in his arms ripple as pulls out the seat opposite me and sits down. I don’t stop myself from staring.

“Hey,” I say, my eyes flicking up to his face. There’s a small smile playing on his lips and his gaze is intense.

“We didn’t get much time to talk earlier,” he says, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table.

“My mouth was full,” I shrug and his face breaks out into a grin.

“Sure was,” he says, before leaning forward even further. He glances over his shoulder, as if checking that no one else is listening, before lowering his voice. “I get the feeling you’d be down for something.”

“What thing?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.

“Something I’ve wanted to try for a while.”

His eyes travel down to my lips and back up again.

“If you give me your room number and leave the door open tonight, I’ll fuck you in your sleep.”

I sit back, regarding him.

“I’ve done that before,” I reply and his eyes widen.

“Would… you do it again?”

I tap my finger off my chin, pretending to think about it. In reality, it was one of my favourite things. I think of my old roommates, rubbing the heads of their hard cocks across my mouth until I woke up, taking them into my mouth even while half-asleep. The thought makes me wet again.

“Why wait until tonight?” I say. He blinks in surprise. “I’m still pretty jet lagged so I’ll take a nap this afternoon. I’ll probably be asleep for a couple hours. You can come over then.”

“Wait, really?” he seems stunned that I not only accepted but accelerated his proposition.

“Sure,” I shrug. “Just try not to wake me until half-way through. I like to wake up with it inside me.”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his fingers flexing. I imagine how hard he is right now without me even touching him and smirk. “Anyway, I can see my food coming so…”

“Oh. Right. Sure,” he stands up, letting the waiter set my breakfast down on the table. He almost turns to leave before stopping himself. “Wait. What’s your name?”

“Kate,” I reply, picking up my knife and fork. “You?”

“Jace.”

“Cool, see you later, Jace.”

*

With a full stomach, I stroll back to the hotel, taking in the sunshine and the bustling atmosphere. When I get back, the crowd has dispersed somewhat but I see people dipping in and out of the swimming area and gym. I eye a few of them but, with a sure thing happening in a few hours, I don’t bother making any serious effort. Hopefully, Jace gives me the second orgasm I need to be satisfied. If he gives me a second and a third, I’ll definitely keep him around.

I make my way through the foyer and up the elevator. I think about Jace’s cock in my mouth earlier and feel myself getting wet again. I’m almost glad for the jetlag; if I wasn’t so tired, I think I might be too excited to sleep.

Once I’m in my room, I catch the door before it closes and place a train ticket in between the door and the frame. I test it a few times to make sure it’s open and, when I’m satisfied, I focus on getting ready.

I take a long shower, letting the hot water ease my muscles and clean myself thoroughly. I can’t resist tweaking my nipples with my soapy fingers, thinking of what’s going to happen in a few hours, and feel my body rev itself up in preparation. I take my time, exfoliating and shaving until my skin is buffed and smooth.

The room is equipped with blackout curtains so, once I’m dry, I close them. The room is plunged into darkness, except for the small bedside lamp which only casts a small, yellow glow. I set a bottle of lube on the bedside table and, clean and naked, I slide between the sheets of my bed. With a contended sigh, I click on the lamp and let the room go dark.

My heart thumps hard behind my ribcage but exhaustion sweeps my body and, only a few minutes after shutting my eyes, I drift off the sleep.

The next thing I remember is something pushing against the lips of my pussy.

I’m on my side but leaning back, pressed against something warm and solid. Something is hooked under my knee, spreading my legs. I blink groggily, trying to make sense of what’s going on.

I must make a noise because there’s a voice behind me.

“Shh, it’s just me,” he says, kissing my temple. One of his hands is on my bare breast, squeezing it softly, and the other is the thing hooked under my knee. As I start to wake up, I realise it’s his cock that’s pressing against me.

He only managed to get the tip inside before I woke up but it’s enough for me to give a quiet whimper and shudder with delight.

Jace. He did it.

I let my sleep body relax against him as he thrusts a bit deeper. His cock is solid but he must have slathered lube on and in my pussy before he started because I feel slick against him.

“Mmm,” I murmur, wanting to say something but I haven’t fully woken up yet.

“You can take it,” he whispers back, pinching my nipple.

With another short thrust, he reaches even deeper. He tucks his knee under mine, holding me open while his free hand grabs my hip. He angles me with my back arching slightly so he can thrust easier. He feels amazing, the ridges of his cock rubbing against every nerve ending inside me. I give another sleepy murmur which seems to encourage him and he pushes himself deeper until he bottoms out.

Jace breathes hard behind me and I can feel him throbbing, just like he’d done in my mouth this morning.

“Cum inside me…” I mumble.

“Absolutely,” he answers and starts to pull back but stops before he withdraws completely. “Fuck, you feel so good, Kate.”

“Mmm,” I sigh, keeping my eyes closed and enjoying the feeling of him as he starts to move faster. My pussy drools around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls back. I squeeze around his cock, feeling the hardness of him, the desperation in his movements as he gets closer towards cumming.

“Fuck… fuck…” he gasps before giving one last, deep thrust. Thick ropes of him cum are shot deep inside me, filling me to the brim. When he pulls out, I feel it overflowing, spilling down my thighs. But I haven’t cum yet.

“Can you get hard again?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he replies breathlessly. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

When he rolls onto his back, I throw the covers off us and climb on top of him. He’s fully dressed in his clothes from earlier, except his cock while has been pulled free. I sit on top of him, my legs on either side of his hips.

“I’m just going to do this for a while until you’re hard again,” I tell him, bracing my hands on his firm chest.

“Do what?” he asks.

Without answering, I position my cum-soaked pussy over his semi-hard cock and start rubbing myself along it. His dick is pressed against his stomach while my pussy lips wrap around the shaft, puffy and pink with use. He stares down at where I’m rubbing against him, his mouth slightly open.

“Jesus,” he says, licking his lips.

His hands are on my thighs, gripping me tight while I slide along his shaft. I sway my hips back and forth, feeling him harden against me. His cum and my juices leave us slick, letting me slide against him with ease.

“Fuck, Kate, I might cum just with this,” he tells me.

“That’s okay,” I reply, closing my eyes again. Every time I slide against him, his cock head rubs across my clit and brings me closer to my desperate orgasm. “I want you too.”

His hips start to buck, mashing himself against me as I grind back down on him. I move faster and more urgently as my orgasm gets close.

“Yes…” I breathe. “Yes…”

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna-”

He cuts himself off with a groan and I feel him pulse against me. A second load of his cum shoots across his stomach just as my orgasm breaks over me. I moan, long and loud, as I’m finally satisfied.

By the time we’re finished, sticky with cum, I let him use my shower before he leaves. I lay on my bed, listening to the shower run and tilt my head until I’m looking at the empty bed across from me. I grin and wonder what new adventures my new room mate might bring.

_____________

**Thanks for reading :)**

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Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/121ptvw/i_swallowed_his_cum_in_the_olympic_village_mf