MARLON:
Marlon had dreamed of the Olympics his whole damn life.
Growing up in London and realising he was so much faster than his peers he had set his goal right there and then.
And now he sat in his room, crushed, angry and beyond disappointed.
All years of training, early starts, grinding his ass off... All over with a false start before he'd even officially set foot on the hallowed 100m straight.
Crushed.
SYDNEY:
"Hey Ronda, wait up..." Sydney called after her teammate.
"Hey girl!" she greeted, catching up.
"Say, do you remember that Brit we were hitting on last night," she asked in her distinctive Southern accent.
"No? Why? What's happened?" Ronda responded, "Nothing serious I hope?" a look of concern creasing her face.
"That was one fine looking black man!" she added, laughing as she parroted back Sydney's words from last night, gently mocking her friend's soft accent.
Syd's treacherous brain suddenly flashed an image of the "fine black man" unbidden into her mind, all muscle, broad, tall and powerful.
"Yeah well, looks like the guy just crashed and burned his qualifier, false start out the gate, disqualified, gone," Sydney filled her in.
"Oh man, that must suck! Imagine that?" forgetting that Syd didn't have to, Syd herself having suffered the same at the Worlds 200m final two years ago.
A race she was heavily favoured for.
And no wonder, Her 5"7 frame was writhed in lean muscle that flexed and popped with her every movement, the light played off her rich ebony skin, making her glow with a contained power which belied her effortless grace around the track.
"I just feel so bad for the guy, he was so funny! And he was so upbeat about his chances," Syd commiserated.
"Yeah well, I know how upbeat you were when you saw the bulge he was packing in his sprint suit," joked Ronda, laughing.
"Shut up!" drawled Syd, slapping her friend's buff bicep and smiling.
Ronda was looking good today, thought Syd, guns on display, only wearing a USA team vest and filling out a pair of navy yoga pants with her firm round ass and strong, thick thighs.
"So, you want to go find him, make sure he's ok?" Syd asked hopefully.
RONDA:
"Sure Syd, let's go."
*Why does she want me tagging along*? Ronda thought.
I know why she wants to go see the guy, and it's not to talk about the race.
Ronda was a little jealous that Syd had spotted him first, unspeakingly claiming him as her own, because when he had playfully flirted with them both last night she had felt strong swirls of lust in her belly.
She didn't compete till Thursday, so she was awash with nervous energy that could do with being released.
Ronda competed in the 50 kg weightlifting, so despite her small stature, barely clearing 5 feet tall, she was pound for pound, literally, one of the strongest women on the planet.
If you'd seen her on the street in her jeans and hoodie you would barely imagine the thick muscle beneath that could jerk well over twice her body weight over her head.
"Are you sure you want me crowding your style Syd?" asked Ronda, " I don't want to be third wheel, you know?"
"What you think gonna happen girly?" laughed Syd, "besides if anything did happen, you know I perform better with the crowd behind me!"
Both girls shrieked laughter and bumped into each other as they walked the halls.
MARLON:
Marlon sat in his own private world of pain and regret, living the twitch that had sent him off early over and over again.
One tenth of a fucking second was all the time it had taken to ruin his life.
His dreams never felt more unattainable.
There was a light knock at the door.
"Fuck off mate I'm not in the mood," called Marlon to the closed door.
"Well that's not a welcome I'd have expected from a fine respectable English gentleman, not at all."
That wasn't the voice of his coach, who he'd been expecting, it was that soft spread out drawl of the fit as fuck yank from last night, the one with the tight little blonde friend.
He was sure he could have taken either home last night if he wasn't saving himself for the race.
"Syd?" He asked of the door.
"And my friend Ronda, can we come in?" the door answered.
"Yeah, alright come in, yeah," he invited, hesitation in his voice.
He wanted nothing more than to wallow in his pain alone, but who's going to turn down these two? For anything?
"Oh baby are you ok?," cooed Syd entering his apartment, "we heard what happened"
"Yeah, so sorry to hear hunny, " Ronda added, joining her friend in sitting on Marlon's bed, one either side.
"Four fucking years guys...what the fuck?" Marlon threw himself back flat on his bed in despair.
SYDNEY:
"Oh baby, there'll be another chance, you're only 20, this wasn't your time. It's the worlds in two years, then it'll be Brisbane before you know it," commiserated Syd, placing her hand softly on Marlon's rock hard abdominals, feeling his pained breathing move beneath her.
Something about this man's distress, this wounded animal, it spoke directly to her nurturing centre, she just wanted to make it all better for him.
She knew how to make it better, she knew how to take away this man's pain, but did she dare with Ronda in the room?
Sweet sexy Ronda, they'd talked about sex together, men, experiences. And Syd had liked hearing her talk about the dick she'd taken. It turned her on listening to her friend, but would she be ok with watching Syd do what she had suddenly decided to do?
The thought of it focused her intent.
"Oh honey, can I take your mind off it?" she breathed, stroking, first up his rigid torso, then down. Then down further until she reached his cock, thick and meaty even at rest.
MARLON:
Marlon sprung to his elbows in surprise.
"What you doing there Syd?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" teased Syd, starting to move her hand up and along his cock as it twitched in reaction.
Marlon looked from Syd to Ronda and saw his own shock reflected in Ronda's face.
What the fuck was happening? I mean is this going to happen, is Ronda going to...aswell?
RONDA: