Kick, stroke, kick, stroke breathe.I tumbled into the last turn. Three laps down, and only one remaining. This should feel harder, I thought. My muscl...s felt fine. A little warm but that was to be expected after a hundred-fifty metres of butterfly. I knew I was overdosing on adrenalin.Who wouldn’t be high after posting a personal best to within a second of the Olympic record for the fifty freestyle? That performance in the final guaranteed me a slot on the national team. I was going to the. She came again, each outward breath a rising squeal of sexual anticipation that the next breath would bring satiation, and yet simultaneously craving more raucous riveting from my ramrod. Meanwhile, my passion was increasing as a tightening knot in my belly and my control was not helped by her thrilling, reciprocating hip movements and the slipperiness of her fanny. The tension mounted despite my mind wanting to continue plugging her perfect pleasure pot. When she came there was no doubt that. More

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