I kissed him deeply, and he kissed back, wrapping his arms and legs around me, holding me tightly. Could this get any better? I thought to myself. I r...lled, still kissing, running my hands all over his toned muscular body. I slid my fingers through his silky hair, down over his cheek bones, feeling the slight stubble of days without a shave. Down his pronounced neck, and onto his broad shoulders, hugging and kissing him. I broke from his lips to explore his body with my mouth, leaving a trail. She had been quite nice and after a short chat about their sports, she had wished Shawn good luck. In those last few days she had met rowers and swimmers, arches and judoka and all kind of other athletes from pretty much everywhere. And to her astonishment, most of those athletes, no matter how experienced they where, had seemed just as nervous and excited as herself.The thought of the Olympic Village reminded her of another kind of excitement she experienced there every day. Each night, she. “Oh, Mr. Buzz,” Muffin cried out. “Your dick is too big!”“Take it, faggit,” demanded Buzzer.“Fuck my culo, Mr. Buzz!”“Yeah, bitch! That’s my Puerto Rican culo!”“Oh, Machote,” whimpered Muffin calling Buzzer a macho man who’s proud of his balls in Spanish.“I love it when you speak Spanglish,” sissy boi.“You two are amazingly hot,” shared Lovell. “I’m jerking my shit!”“Yeah, bruh! This punk is the truth,” howled Buzzer. “I fuck his faggit, punk, girly, asshole four or five times a day!”“Fuck that. The receptionist was in her late 40s, I estimated, and she blinked when Liz entered the waiting area (which was bereft of clients, I noted).Although it was entirely unnecessary, I thought, Liz introduced herself and then announced that she had an appointment with the attorneys for 9 a.m.“Please take a seat and somebody will be with you shortly, Miss Larimer,” the receptionist (or paralegal) said. Liz looked at the chairs and decided to pass on the suggestion. They didn’t resemble the soft,.