As the day wound down, the already small crowd had thinned to a faithful few consisting mostly of parents of the college girls competing in the final few events. One of the spectators didn't have a daughter involved in the track meet, she was only a fan, not so much of track and field but a fan of one of the competitors.
When Laurie Alger first started attending the SUNY Albany track meets she felt a little strange, but after 2 years and dozens of meets it had become a regular part of her life. Not only did Laurie go to all the competitions on campus, she had started traveling to the meets that were within driving distance, the most distant being the trip to Buffalo. Waking up in the middle of the night to drive almost 300 miles each way to watch a girl throw the discus a few times - a girl Laurie didn't really know - was something that even Laurie herself knew was strange behavior, but she did it without thinking.
Now the conference championships, which was the last meet of the season, was going on and the object of Laurie's attention was about to make her last throw of the event. Margo Thayer's name was announced, and as the sophomore walked to the throwing ring with disc in hand, none of the few hand claps were louder than Laurie Alger's, although she had recently toned down some of her enthusiastic cheers when others stared to notice.
"You can do it Margo!" Laurie insisted as she watched the burly girl with the short black hair get ready to throw, almost feeling the power of the Amazon a few yards away and wondering what it would be like to be wrapped up in those massive arms.
Margo looked amazing in her purple and gold uniform, her shorts hiding little of her thick and powerful thighs, and the muscles in her calves rippled as she walked. The college website said that Margo was 5'10 and 180 pounds, and while Laurie suspected they might have hedged a bit on those numbers, the husky girl was solidly built.
Margo was looking out over the crowd, getting psyched up for her throw. The ALBANY across her chest stretched a bit as she did a little contorting, and then she spun one last time, the 2.2 pound discus like a paper plate in her strong hand. Her muscular arm propelled the discus into the sky while Margo hopped to make sure she didn't foul, and when the discus landed with a cloud of dust a bunch of people with measuring tapes did their thing.
"Thayer's throw, 141 feet 2 inches," the drone at the mike said .
"Yea Margo!" Laurie yelled as Margo spun her shoulder around a bit, her face not showing she was all that pleased even though it was her best of the day.
As it turned out when they announced the standings of the event, Margo had finished fourth, which was a little better than she had done last year, and as the competitors patted each other on the back and congratulated the winner, Laurie made her way over to where Margo was putting her things in a gym bag.
Laurie thought that if life was like she thought it should be Margo would have security around her and be signing autographs, but the 38 year old single woman suspected that the only autograph Margo had even signed was for her at the end of last year. Laurie couldn't pass up the chance to chat to Margo and had done just that on several occasions over the season, enough so that while Margo might not remember her name she knew her by sight.
"Margo!" Laurie chirped enthusiastically after she got up to the girl who towered over her diminutive frame, and as Laurie lifted her hand in hopes of getting a high five she added, "that last throw was great. You only missed third place by three inches."
"Might as well been a mile," Margo replied as she gave the little hand the woman offered a slap, making Laurie's day.
"Are you going to any invitational meets after this?" Laurie said hopefully but Margo shook her head.
"No, I'm done for the year," her deep voice announced. "Shoulder's been bothering me all season."
"Is that why you didn't throw the shot put this year?" Laurie asked, her eyes on the towel Margo had in her hand, and when she brought it up to wipe the sweat off the back of her neck a shiver went down Laurie's spine as she stared at the spacious hollow under her arm.
It was a sight she had seen from a distance many times, but being this close got the older woman's heart racing as she took in the vision of the burly girl's armpit, most of the hollow coated with a dense black five o'clock shadow that grew in a long diamond pattern. While Laurie would have much preferred the girl's armpits were unshaven to make her the complete vision of an Amazon as she saw it, this was erotic to Laurie and allowed her to imagine what those muscled armpits would look like if they were left unshorn as nature intended.
Margo had told her that her shoulder was the reason she had cut back, and then she suddenly said, "I'm sorry. I know you introduced yourself once, but I've forgotten."
"Laurie. Laurie Alger," she said as breathlessly as a teenage Justin Bieber fan would. "I'm a fan of yours."
"Yes, I've seen you a whole lot. Do you have a daughter or a relative on the team?" she wondered aloud.
"No," Laurie sheepishly admitted. "It's just that - well I saw you on the news a while back when you were coming in 2nd in the high school state championships, and when they said you were going to school here I decided to start following your career. You look sort of like someone I knew a long time ago."
"Poor girl'," Margo snickered. "Hey, I'm happy I have such a devoted fan. I just wish for your sake that you picked a better thrower."
"No," Laurie insisted. "You're really good and I know you'll do better next season. I bet with luck you'll be trying out for the Olympics in a few years."
This got Margo to laugh, a husky laugh that matched the girl herself, but then she told Laurie that while she appreciated her faith, that wasn't going to happen.
"In fact, I'm not so sure I'll come back to the team next year," Margo admitted, causing Laurie to panic. "I'm not really advancing much."
"No. You can't quit now. Rest your shoulder for a while and then hit the ground running come fall," Laurie almost pleaded, and when she saw the look Margo gave her she backtracked a bit and said, "Sorry. I guess I've sort of adopted you. Don't have much in the way of entertainment. That's why I drive to all of your meets too."
"You show a lot more interest in me than my mother does. I thought I've seen you in meets, like down on Long Island and out in Buffalo. Don't you have a job?"
"Oh yes, a good job. I'm a clerk for the Tax Department," Laurie explained. "It's just that I have a lot of vacation time and... you know?"
"I guess," Margo said, and as she looked around at the emptying field she said. "Time to go."
"Margo," Laurie said, her hand going up to Margo's bare bicep. "I couldn't help but notice. That young woman who you used to talk with last season? The redhead with all the freckles? After the meets were over you used to walk back through those woods, probably to your dorm room, but I notice this year you walk back there alone. I haven't seen her this year. Is she your sister or uh..."
"No, we aren't together anymore," Margo replied and then noted, "You really do keep an eye on me don't you?"
"Yes," Laurie admitted. "Just curious. Do you have plans? I mean I know it's Saturday night and all but if you aren't busy."
"Are you hitting on me?" Margo said with an amused look.
"I don't know. I want to be your friend. Maybe be your manager or personal assistant when you work out? Do you have anybody to go fetch the discuses after you throw them? I could do that for you," Laurie said excitedly. "Your shoulder? I could give you a massage to help take the pain away. I'm not a stalker, I swear. I'm just..."
"Hitting on me," Margo said in completing the sentence. "Just say it."
I'm not - I mean I know I'm old enough to be your mother, and I'm not much to look at. Not even a real blonde," Laurie confessed. "Never really hit on anybody though. What am I doing? I don't know. Offering myself to you?"
"You intrigue me - what was your name again - Laurie?" Margo asked. "Although there's always the possibly that hidden inside that little body is a serial killer or something."
"No. I'm harmless. I swear. Look, do you want to go have some ice cream or something?"
"Ice cream?"
"I don't know. Whatever you want. We could go to dinner," Laurie suggested.
"I'm all sweaty," Margo said as she wiggled her arms, exposing the dark rings of perspiration under the armholes of her uniform top. "I must smell."
