Sex in Sochi

Handball

   Mindy sat in her dressing room reading from a newspaper more about the fallout from the hockey final. She’d reported on it yesterday during the five minute update. Roman was taking his turn as host of the update as she read. It wouldn’t be a repeat of what she’d informed their viewers of as new statements and reports were always coming out.

   In the end twenty members of security had been injured while trying to break up the fight between the Canadian and Costa Rican teams. Both Canada and Costa Rica had been disqualified from all events for the rest of the olympics. This was announced after the leaders of both countries said they would not compete while the other was allowed to. The hockey final was replayed between the beaten semi-finalists Germany and India and won by India.

   The Olympic Committee was refusing to say any more. All they said was that they would not be drawn into further statements until after the games had come to a close, by which time they’ll have had a chance to carry out proper investigations. Meanwhile the games went on and Mindy prepared for the night’s show, where they would be covering the handball event.

   “Welcome to Sex in Sochi!” she was saying a few hours later.

   Roman clasped his hands together. “How time has flown! To think we’re only going to bring you two more events. Well we can be sad later. For now let’s get on it!”

   “Now, the handball event,” Mindy said.

   “Yes,” Roman continued, “an event in the art of humans coming together to jerk each other off. A quick explanation of the rules, a woman per athlete chosen from amongst volunteers with give the athletes a handjob. The one to ejaculate last is the winner. The athletes will not know who their partners are in advance. It will be revealed to them when it is revealed to us, as they walk out.”

   “We’ve got Cesari Bartolli here with us, winner of this event in the last Sex Olympics, representing Italy.”

   Mindy was used to the pressure of the job by now so barely felt nervous anymore. But when she looked at Cesari… no wonder a record twenty thousand women had volunteered to be his partner for this event the year he’d won. It was a rather cold summer day but as soon as Cesari walked in Mindy felt the urge to ask a technician to put the air conditioning on. She resisted, though, and remained the epitome of professionalism as she led the way over to the massive screen where thumbnails of a dozen videos were ready to be touched and played.

   “Nice to have you here, Cesari,” Roman said, shaking his hand as they went. “This event must’ve brought back memories?”

   Cesari grinned and Mindy’s pulse raced faster. “Great memories. I met my wife thanks to this event.” Mindy resisted the urge to swear. “The committee chose well, I have to say. I got gold and a goddess.”

   Roman laughed. “There’s a line for today’s winner. Right, let us reveal who the successful volunteers.”

   The first few were typical. The video showed an athlete, then the announcer said the name of his partner and she came out, always a beautiful woman. This trend changed with the athlete from Brazil, Falcao, who was gay. So he didn’t have an advantage over the opponents, a man was unveiled, one with chiseled muscles and a proud grin, who took Falcao’s hand. The last athlete was Mauro Mufasa, the winner of sprint. He stood, ready to greet his athlete as her name was read out. The woman had more… tires of fat than just rolls. Mauro looked slightly disappointed but went to greet her anyway.

   “What do you make of that look?” Roman asked.

   Cesari considered the question. “I’d say he hoped his comment about liking fat women wouldn’t come back to bite him but this was only fair. They gave Falcao his preference and had to remain consistent.”

   The athletes stood in a circle with their backs to each other. Their partners got to their knees. An announcer reminded them they were only allowed to use their hands. “Grab the shafts!” the same one demanded. “NOOOOW PUMP AWAAAAY!”

   There was a great amount of cheering now. The athletes seemed to be trying to block it and everything else out. “Haha, smart,” Cesari said, pointing to Falcao, who was trying to see Mauro’s partner out of the corner of his eye. The announcer quickly told him off for it and threatened to disqualify him. Mauro  went first, spraying sperm all over the woman who accepted it like a fresh shower. The Nigerian wasn’t so happy. He fell to his knees, slamming the ground with his fists while the rest continued. One by one, all the athletes came until it was Falcao and Verti Fevo, another Italian, left. Mindy had to give him credit. His partner was working him well and yet he still held on. “GAAAAH!” Falcao growled as the event came to an end for him as well.

   There was an arrogant laugh in the studio. “As if an Italian could be matched in this,” Cesari said.