You know, with the 2016 Summer Olympics underway, we must all do our part to show our support for our athletes. . . My way just happens to be having them fuck for our enjoyment. 

If you liked this then check out my other stories, including the ongoing 'Horny Exchange Student' series and follow me on tumblr; address above. 

This story is in no way a true representation of the personal lives of these celebrities, yada yada yada, hope you enjoy! 

Phelps Vs Lochte: Fight For Fuck

            Decorated Olympian Michael Phelps checked himself in the mirror as various swimmers of all nationalities bustled around him in the men’s Olympic swimming locker room.

            It was hard to believe it, but he was going for his unprecedented 20th career medal tonight. And he was just as nervous as he was 16 years ago at the Sydney Summer Olympics. He couldn’t describe the feeling, preparing for a swim like this. It was intoxicating. Four years of training had come to this. It was just a sensation he couldn’t stop chasing. The look of sheer concentration staring back at him from his reflection intensified and he had to look away.

            And there, standing over at the next sink was Ryan Lochte, flexing in front of the mirror obnoxiously with that fucking smirk on his face. Lochte noticed the intense stare his rival teammate was giving and laughed it off. “Don’t look so intense all the time, Mikey, relax!”

            Michael just rolled his eyes in response. Ryan knew he hated being called ‘Mikey’ but he stuck with it anyway, almost like he was taunting him.

            Locthe continued to pose in front of the mirror, practicing his smile for the cameras and winking. He reached into his speedo and snapped it against his ass as he stretched, waving his long arms around to help pump himself up. That ass. . . Ryan Lochte was world famous for his giant ass, but the way his tight speedo barely contained it was almost obscene. Phelps was 99.9% straight. But that .01%. . . Ryan Lochte’s ass always got to him.

            “Aren’t you nervous at all, man?” Phelps asked, failing to suppress a faint smile as he watched his teammate obnoxiously ogling himself here out in the open.

            “Not really.” Lochte shrugged. “Why should I be? I could get dead last and I’d still get more pussy than I’d know what to do with.” He flashed a smile in the mirror again, practicing his signature smoldering look. “You know how it is, man.”

            Phelps rolled in eyes in response.

            “Ah, I forgot.” Ryan added, looking over at him again. “Guess your bachelor days are over now that you’ve got the kid and the old ball and chain.”

            “You know, Lochte, some things are more important than just getting laid all the time.” Michael laughed.

            “Agree to disagree, I guess.” Ryan replied. “I could never do it. The monogamy thing. The pussy’s just too good to pass up, you know? I need variety in my life.” He paused for a second, noticing Michael’s eyes on his ass. “DUDE. . .”


            “Come on man, your eyes have been on my ass for 10 seconds straight.”

            “Oh fuck off, Ryan.” Michael laughed, turning back to the mirror again.

            “Hey, it’s not like I blame you.” Ryan said with a grin. “I got a nice ass. I don’t care if guys check me out. I think it’s a compliment.”

            “I wasn’t checking out your ass, man.”

            “Yeah. . . okay. . .” Lochte said sarcastically, going back to flexing. “Guess America’s Golden Boy isn’t exactly all that golden, huh?”

            “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

            “I think you’ll figure it out.” Ryan smirked. He turned himself so his big ass was facing his rival and he bent down to stretch. “You know the media’s always making us out to be these huge rivals and all that shit.”

            “Yeah. . .?” Michael said, trying to ignore the giant, perfect, muscular ass right in front of him.

            “What do you say we make things interesting?”

            “I’m not interested in making things interesting.” Michael shook his head, smiling. “It’s bad news whenever you’re involved with anything.”

            “Aw, come on man.” Ryan replied to him over his shoulder as he flexed his ass at him. He stood up and made his way right behind his rival and ran his hands over his strong, lithe back muscles looking like he was giving him a friendly, innocent massage to anyone walking by. “I know you want to fuck me.”

            Michael took in a deep breath. “Lochte, you’re taking this way too far, man. Cut it out.”

            “Interesting.” Ryan muttered, stepping away from him, his cut abdominal muscles forming an indentation in his stomach as he breathed in and out. “You didn’t even deny it.”

            “Deny what?” Michael asked, getting a little frustrated. He didn’t want this on his mind right before an important swim.

            “That you clearly want to fuck me.”

            “Oh fuck off, Lochte.” Michael spat back at him, turning away from him.

            “Yet again.” Ryan smirked. “No denial.”

            Michael turned to him, almost getting angry now. “Look man. I do not want to fuck you.”

            “Jesus, no wonder your endorsements bailed on you.” Ryan laughed. “You’re about as bad an actor as you are good in the pool.”

            “Alright, what the fuck is it going to take for you to just leave me alone so I can get ready in peace?”

            “Agree to make a deal with me.” Ryan said simply.

            “What are you talking about, Ryan?” Michael asked him, getting impatient.

            “We have a team relay tonight. Your time beats mine, I’ll let you have my ass. My time beats yours, you give me your ass.”

            “Yeah. . . right.” Michael laughed, turning back to wash his face.

            Ryan stepped up to him so that he only Michael could hear him. He bent down to his ear to where their faces were almost touching. “I’m completely serious, man.”

            Michael gulped as he saw the intense stare his rival was giving him in the mirror.

            Ryan made sure he had Michael’s attention and turned to where his ass was in the center of the reflection and lowered his speedo down a few inches to where his giant, meaty cheeks started to overflow over the skimpy fabric. “This is your only shot to finally get this ass. Tell me you’re not gonna take it.”

            Michael bit his lip as he looked at it. Fuck. He’d run this scenario over in his mind countless times before. Fucking that cocky smirk off of his rival’s face as he reveled in the glory of winning gold and knocking this guy down a peg or two. “What’s in it for you, Locthe?”

            “You kidding me?” Ryan scoffed. “I get to fuck America’s Golden Boy.”

            “Bullshit you are. I’m fucking you.”

            “Well I guess we’re just going to have to see about that, won’t we, Mikey? Do we have a deal?” He extended is arm for a shake, the look on his face unmistakable. It was the first time Michael had seen Ryan Lochte look 100% serious.

            “I can’t believe this. . .” He muttered as he considered it.

            “Times ticking, Golden Boy.” Ryan said, gesturing to the clock hanging from the ceiling. Their relay was starting in three minutes.

            “I win, you give me your ass?” Michael asked him, looing him the eye, man to man.

            “You win, you get what you’ve been dreaming about for years, man.” He turned to the side so that Phelps got a good look at what he had to offer. “Just take that in for a second.”

            Michael reached for his hand and shook it with a firm, masculine grasp. “I just hope when it’s time for you to pay up you’re this cocky.”

            “Better not choke, Golden Boy.” Ryan smirked at him. “You’ve got a lot more on the line than just losing out on a medal.”


            Michael Phelps panted as he tried to catch his breath, slipping his goggles up on his forehead as he looked up at the clock.

            He’d swum a good race. A really good race. There was no question the Gold was going to the US. All around him everyone was cheering USA but the only thing on his mind was how fast his personal time was. And how fast Ryan was.

            He looked up at Ryan Lochte, pacing around with his teammates with a towel around his shoulders, an almost ghostly white look on his face. He knew they had both had good races. It felt like every single second that went by grew longer and longer as they awaited their fate.

            As Michael watched the pretty boy pacing the crowd suddenly erupted in unanimous applause.

            “Michael!” One of his teammates yelled. “We did it, man!”

            “USA! USA!” The crowed roared.

            “Holy shit man, you broke your old record!” Another teammate yelled, slapping him on the back excitedly.

            Before he could react his eyes were back on Ryan Lochte, who was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost.

            Michael had won.

            And just like that, Phelps could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, his blood rushing back to his head.

            He slowly made his way to Ryan Lochte with a cocky look on his face. There were cameras all around him as they swarmed to get footage of the victors and ask him about his new record.

            He leaned in close to his rival teammate and brought his mouth up to his ear so that only Ryan would hear him. “You do know I’m not going to go easy on you, right?”

            He pulled back and feigned an excited smile so as to appear like he had cracked some inside joke for the cameras.

            Ryan looked at him and gulped.

            “Michael!” One of the reporters asked him, sticking a microphone in his face. “Yet another Gold medal and extending your lead for the most decorated Olympian in history. . . After so much recognition, how do you keep yourself motivated to keep pushing yourself?”

            Michael turned to look at Ryan and with a smile, he said right to the cameras. “You know, there are some victories that can’t be measured in medals. . . I couldn’t have done it without my team, and I’m going to make sure Ryan Locthe here feels just how stoked I am for this victory.”

            Ryan’s jaw dropped at the gall this guy had to brag about his would-be conquest right here in front of all the cameras, but the reporters just nodded their heads and smiled, appearing to eat it up like it was just another ordinary post-win sound-bite for the audience at home. No. . . it appeared that little speech was just for Ryan.

            The reporter turned to Ryan and asked him a question as Ryan’s mind raced about what he had gotten himself into.

            “Ryan?” The reporter asked him, the microphone in his face.

            “I- I uh. . .” He stammered, trying to focus and realizing he had completely missed the question.

            “Aw, look at him.” Michael chided him, stepping in front of him and taking his spot in front of the microphone. “I think what Lochte is trying to say is that he’s a real team player. He knows what’s expected of him and he’s a man of his word. You know, right before the race he and I had some time to kill in the locker room and we worked each other up, you know? What he said to me really made me kick it into high gear and made me want this win like no other.”

            Ryan couldn’t believe the gall of this guy, literally stepping in front of him and stealing his spot at sharing the limelight.

            “So there’s really no rivalry between the two of you?” The reporter asked with a smile. “Come on, you know the people watching at home love a bit of friendly competition!”

            “Ah, we’re just old buddies.” Michael said to the camera with a flashy smile. “We really pumped each other up before the match and kind of made a personal commitment to each other to have our best swims tonight. You know he really inspired me to win this one and I can’t thank him enough for that. I told him I’d give it my all and I think I was a man of my word.” He turned to Ryan, who was still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “What about you, Lochte?” Michael asked him in front of the cameras. “Do you think you’re a man of your word?”

            The reporter’s microphone moved right in front of Ryan as they waited for his response. Ryan looked up at Michael as he breathed in and out. “Y-yes.” He answered. “I am a man of my word.”

            “Well there you have it, folks!” The reporter said to the camera as they segwayed into the next segment. “Fresh off of another amazing win, USA leads the medal count. . .”

            Ryan turned to Michael, his fists clenched. “Dude, what the fuck was that?”

            “Aw, come on Lochte, it was just a little bit of fun. Relax, remember?” Michael chided him.

            “Yeah, ha ha, we were just kidding about that whole thing before, right?” Ryan laughed nervously.

            “Oh no.” Michael shook his head. “We made a deal, man. It’s time for you to pay up.”

            “Come on, man.” Ryan huffed. “It was just a joke, alright? Besides, you’ve got a fiancée and everything and-“

            “Oh, my fiancée is completely on board.” Michael interrupted him with a grin.

            “Dude, what are you talking about?”

            “It’s like you said back there in the locker room.” Michael muttered. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you.” He grabbed his rival by the arm and started dragging him back to the locker room, the high from his win still running through him.

            “Dude, Mickey, what the fuck are you-“

            “You know I hate it when you call me that.” Michael muttered as he pulled Ryan into the locker room.

            “Michael, where are we-“

            “I’m looking to collect, Lochte.”

            “W-what, here?” Ryan panicked, the sound of the crowd still very audible just outside the locker room walls.

            “You promised me your ass.” Michael said firmly, throwing him into the showers, out of sight from the entrance.

            “Look man, I promise I’ll let you have it. Just please, not here. . .”

            “Feel this.” Michael said, grabbing Lochte’s arm and bringing it to the massive erection jutting out from his Speedo.

            “Jesus Fucking Christ, Phelps!” Ryan yelled, unprepared for the sheer size of Michael Phelps’s dick.

            “Feel that, Lochte?” Michael grunted in his ear. “Does that feel like something that’s just going to go down before we get back out there?”

            “You’re fucking crazy, man. Anyone could just walk in.” Ryan pled, trying to talk his way out of this. He wasn’t sure what frightened him more, the thought of getting caught with literally the entire world watching or the idea that he was going to have to take that monster Michael Phelps was sporting between his legs. “Phelps, we could seriously get caught.”

            “Then you’re just going to have to be quiet then, won’t you?” Michael replied, pushing his rival down onto the tile floor and then pulling down his speedo in one motion.

            “Good God, Phelps!” Ryan gasped as 10 thick inches of cock almost whacked him in the face. “There’s no way, man. No fucking way. I can’t-“

            “You can, and you will, Lochte.” Michael told him, patting his rival’s cheeks authoritatively. “You’re at the Olympics for Christ’s sake. Now are you going to man up and follow through or are you going to be a pussy about it?”

            Ryan took a look at the massive cock swinging in front of his face and struggled to answer him. He seriously didn’t know cocks like this existed. “I can’t, man. . . I-“

            “Come on, Lochte.” Michael chided him, slapping his cock against his face softly. “Don’t you at least want to feel something that big? Doesn’t it deserve a little respect? One man to another?”

            Ryan couldn’t believe what was happening. He didn’t have the slightest interest in guys. None whatsoever. But he felt the most intense instinctual need to submit to this cock. Not just because he lost the bet, but because a cock like that deserved his respect.

            Instinctively he reached out and did his best to wrap his hand around the length of it, falling short even with his wide grasp.

            “There you go.” Michael nodded. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he noticed sometime during all of this Lochte’s hand had found its way into his own speedo, rubbing what was looking to be like a formidable cock himself. “Take your cock out and play with it while you get to know mine.”

            Ryan felt a pang of inferiority go through him.

            “It’s okay.” Michael said to him, looking him in the eye. “I know you wish you were as big as me but you can still take it out and play with it.”

            Ryan reached down and slipped his speedo down, humiliated as his own cock came into view. A solid 7.5 inches. A more than respectable size by usual standards that had enabled him to pleasure quite a large number of ladies over his years as a celebrity. But here, now. . . now he just looked inadequate in comparison.

            “Are- are you really going to make me jack you off here? Right now?” Ryan gulped, looking up at him.

            “Oh, you’re going to be doing a lot more than that, Lochte.” Phelps smirked at him. “No need to rush into it though. I want to enjoy this for a while.”

            He leaned his head back and enjoyed the sensation of his teammate running his hand over his immense length, getting a good feel at what made him a man.

            “You ever seen a cock this big?” He asked him.

            “Never.” Ryan laughed for the first time, easing up a little.

            “Here’s how this is going to go.” Michael said, slapping his cock against his rivals soft, pouty lips. “I’m going to fuck you right here. It’s your choice how tough you’re going to make it on yourself.”

            Ryan just looked up at him as he listened, knowing he was past the point of rejection by now.

            “Now I can push you against that wall right there and take your ass right now. . .”

            Ryan winced at the thought.

            “Or you can find some lube, slick up your finger, and work on opening yourself up while you blow me and I’ll fuck you then.”

            “Whoa man, you never said anything about me having to suck you off!”

            “Alright, your choice.” Michael shrugged, reaching down and pulling his rival up by his arm in a surprising show of strength.

            “Wait!” Ryan yelled before he could stop himself.

            Phelps paused, loving this.

            “Fuck man. . .” Ryan muttered, hanging his head down. “I- I don’t know the first thing about giving a blowjob.”

            Michael reached out and ran his hand over his teammate’s smooth lips. “You’ve got pretty lips. I’m sure you’ll do fine. You know what feels good. Just work on making me feel good.”

            Ryan didn’t know how to react. On one hand he hated the way Phelps was just feeling him up like he was just one of his conquests after a great game, but on the other hand, his own rock-hard cock waving below him betrayed him by giving away that at least some part of him was enjoying being treated like this.

            “Fine. . .” He said, begrudgingly. “You got any lube?”

            “No.” Michael said plainly. “But I’m sure you do.”

            “Dude, we’re in a fucking locker room!” He retorted, frustrated. “I don’t what you want me to do?”

            “Come on, Ryan.  You’re telling me you weren’t expecting to get laid after this?” Michael smirked at him.

            “Well I-“

            “I’ll tell you what, Locthe.” Michael said with a grin. “I’m betting there’s lube in your bag over there because you were expecting to swim this race, win a medal, and then go out tonight ready to pound as much pussy as you could find.”

            Ryan stared down at the floor, blushing.

            “I’ll give you a way out.” Michael continued. “If I go through your bag and there’s no lube, you’re off the hook. We’ll call it a day and pretend like this never happened.”

            Ryan kicked his feet around, humiliated.

            “But if I go through that bag and I find some, and I know I will, I’m going to use the lube you planned on using with some chick you were hoping would put out for you, and I’m going to make you put out for me instead.”

            Ryan was quiet as his face turned even redder.

            Phelps made a move to step over toward Lochte’s gym bag before Ryan sighed and walked over to it.

            “God damnit. . .” He cursed, unzipping the side pocket.

            Michael watched as his rival pulled out a couple packets of lube and a few condoms. “Ribbed for her pleasure. . .” He teased him. “Might as well put those back, Lochte. You’re taking me raw.”

            Ryan looked up at him, shaking his head. “No man. No. . . please don’t make me take you raw.”

            “Come on, Ryan.” Michael said, waving his cock menacingly at him. “Tell me you don’t want my champion swimmers swimming around in your guts when you go to sleep tonight.”

            Ryan Locthe’s hole pulsed at the thought.

            “Get over here and suck my cock.”

            Lochte took a deep breath and made the walk of shame back to the showers.

            “There’s a good boy.” Phelps smirked. “Now get on your knees and start fingering yourself while you suck me off.”

            Ryan hesitated as he considered the gravity of the situation. Here he was, an eligible, straight man and he was getting on his knees to suck his rival’s cock. Why was something that should be so degrading and humiliating exciting him so much? And why the fuck wouldn’t his cock go down?

            “That’s it.” Phelps said to him as he got down on his knees. “There you go.” He tapped his menacing cockhead at Lochte’s lips and pressed forward. “Look man, you can draw this out as long as you want or you can just man up and suck my cock. Your pick. Either way I’m getting my cock sucked.”

            Ryan looked up at him angrily and opened his lips, letting Phelps’s big cockhead enter his mouth. At once he coughed on it.

            “Come on, Lochte. Open up. Be a good cockslut and make me feel good.”

            Ryan did his best to open his jaw wide enough to accept it but it was just too big and he immediately choked on it again.

            “Oh for fuck’s sake. . .” Phelps muttered, grabbing his rival’s hair and pulling him down on his cock forcefully. At once Ryan started choking but his throat opened up and the giant cock started to snake its way down, drawing a groan from the champion athlete.

            “Goddamn that’s good.” Michael moaned, really getting into it. “Just like that, man. Keep your throat open for your man and make him feel good.”

            Ryan focused on keeping his throat open and after a while he started to grow comfortable enough to slide his tongue out and lick under the shaft a bit.

            “There you go, Lochte.” Michael muttered under his breath. “Go on. Make me feel good. You’re doing great. Just like that.” He reached down and tossed him the lube. “Better start working on your hole.”

            Ryan looked up at him and nodded, tearing open the packet and slicking up his fingers.

            He suddenly realized, fingers sticky and smooth, that he had no idea what to do next.

            Michael seemed to read his mind.

            “Do what your girl would do.”

            This was so degrading to hear, but he knew he was right. He swallowed his pride even further as he pressed his finger against his opening and pushed forward.

            At once he breathed in at the intrusion, feeling intensely uncomfortable.

            “What’s it feel like?” Michael asked, staring down at him as he slapped his cock against his rival’s face.

            “It’s awful, man.” Ryan replied under his breath.

            “You ever done anal with a girl before?”

            “Yeah, of course.”

            “Did she do this much bitching before she put out?”

            Ryan just looked up at him, fists clenched, hating the way he was being talked to.

            “Seriously Lochte, aren’t you supposed to be tougher than this? I mean you’re at the fucking Olympics for Christ’s sake. Man up and open up that hole for me.”

            Begrudgingly, Ryan continued pressing forward, making sure to lube himself up as well as possible. Soon he felt comfortable enough to go back to sucking Phelps’s cock again, hoping the more time he spent working on it now, the less time it would have to spend in his ass.

            “Might want to get at least another finger up there.” Michael said to him. “Maybe two more.”

            “Fuck you, man.” Ryan laughed, knowing how much his rival was loving this.

            “Suit yourself.” Michael shrugged. “It’s your ass on the line, not mine.” He added, making sure to highlight his immense size as he withdrew his entire cock completely and rubbed it against Ryan’s lips for good measure before sticking it back in again.

            Lochte rolled his eyes and added another finger, relieved that it didn’t hurt at all. In fact, though he would never admit it, it was actually starting to feel good.

            Michael looked down at him, his teammate’s world-famous ass jutting behind him like two giant cantaloupes. He’d never seen an ass like that on a guy before. It just didn’t make sense.

            “Man, I can’t wait to take this ass.” He gloated. “An ass like this is just made to get fucked.”

            Lochte closed his eyes and tried his best to ignore his taunts, instead focusing on using his tongue to lick the underside of his shaft.

            “Whoa whoa whoa. . .” Michael said suddenly, pulling out. “We don’t want to get too far along with this, now do we?”

            He tapped the head of his cock against his rival’s lips, smiling as a bit of precum trailed from the tip to his mouth. “Fuck, this is so much better than just another gold medal.”

            “Yeah yeah, enjoy while it lasts, Mikey.” He said, quietly adding yet another finger, hoping his rival wouldn’t notice.

            “Alright, I’ll give you some more cock but you have to promise to go slower. Treat it right, okay?”

            Ryan rolled his eyes but opened his mouth again.

            “Why don’t you stick your tongue out for it like a good cockslut. You know how great it is when chicks do that. Go on and show your man how pleased you are to get his cock.”

            Rather than argue with him more, Ryan complied.

            “There we go. . .” Michael muttered, sinking his cock back down his throat gently. “See, I knew you’d do just fine. You’re a natural at taking cock and making your man feel good.”


            At that moment they heard someone walk in and Ryan pulled back, but Michael grabbed his head and pushed him down on his cock again. Ryan tried to take it without choking on it as they listened to the footsteps carry on toward the other end of the locker room where the bathrooms were located.

            Though Michael didn’t seem to care, it was just another reminder of how dangerous what they were doing was to Ryan. He pulled off Michael’s cock and wiped his mouth. He needed to get this over with and fast.

            “Alright man, just do it already.” He sighed, standing up and kicking his speedy off his feet.

            “Looks like someone’s excited for cock.” Michael gloated. “Why don’t you lube up my cock so you can get me ready for you.”

            Ryan sighed again and reached for the lube, looking his rival in the eye as he spread the lube all around the shaft.

            “Don’t look so intense.” Michael laughed, reminding Ryan what he had said to him before the race. He leaned in to his ear and muttered, “If it makes you feel any better about it, I want you to really, really enjoy what I’m about to do to you.”

            Ryan stepped back, unprepared for that. He wanted him to enjoy this? What the fuck did that even mean?

            ‘Turn around. Ass up.” Michael told him, giving that bubble butt a good spank and pointing to the wall.

            Ryan braced himself against the wall, feeling the cold tile against his skin and hiked his ass out for him, hoping this would be over soon.

            “You’re lucky we’re not back at Olympic Village.” Michael said to him, grabbing his ass and squeezing. “If we had a little more time and privacy I would have had you eat my ass first.”

            “Would you just shut the fuck up and get this over with, Phelps?” Ryan said over his shoulder to him.

            “Alright alright, if the guy wants cock, we’ll give him cock.” Michael laughed, lining the head of his dick up with his rival’s opening. “Fuck, you know if I almost close my eyes, I swear I was looking at a chick’s ass. This thing is just unreal.”

            “Look, are we gonna do this or not, Mikey?”

            With that, Phelps pressed forward, slipping the head of his cock inside and causing the Olympian in front of him to grunt audibly.

            “Fuck man, take it easy!” He winced.

            “I told you not to call me that.” Michael said, holding still to let him adjust to his size.

            “Alright fine, I won’t but would you please try to not fucking rip me apart with that thing?”

            “That depends, do you want me to treat you nice like I would with a girl or do you want to take it like a man, Lochte?”

            Fuck. How do you answer a question like that.

Against his better judgment, he opened his mouth and started speaking. “I- I want you to-“

            “Yeah?” Michael asked, leaning across his back and nibbling at his ear.

            “I- I want you to fuck me like a- a woman.”

            Phelps thought about being a dick about it, but he knew getting his rival to admit something like that was humiliation enough.

            “You got it, Lochte.” He said, reaching down and grabbing Ryan’s hands and planting them on the wall in front of him, sinking his big, thick swimmer’s cock into him slowly. He kissed up and down his neck softly. “You got to open up for me, girl. Make it feel good for your man.”

            Ryan clenched his fists in anger as his rival talked to him this way but he took it like a man. He was an Olympian after all. This wasn’t going to put a stop to his game. No, when he got out of here he was going to hit the bars hard and take home the best trophy pussy he could find and fuck her until he-

            “Mmmmm. . .” He groaned out loud before he could stop himself. His prick underneath him throbbed as Michael’s fat cock hit something inside of him that sent a shockwave of pleasure through his entire body.

            “Well well well. . .” Michael gloated, reaching down and grabbing a hold of Ryan’s leaking prick. “Looks like we found your spot.”

            “Dude, you don’t have to be such an asshole about- UUUGHH!” He groaned as Michael made sure to rub up against his prostate again.

            “I’ve heard about guys like you, Lochte.” Michael muttered, starting to really give it to him now as he held his waist in place. “Guys who have a g-spot that just goes crazy when a man like me has a big cock that can rub it just right.” He sank in all the way and made sure to grind against his poor rival teammate’s prostate.

            “Fuck man. . .” Ryan groaned, practically drooling now. “I don’t know what you’re doing but-“

            “It feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

            “Well. . . yeah. . .” Ryan admitted, feeling self-conscious.

            “That’s okay. Let it feel good.” Phelps grinned, leaning his face down against his teammate’s cheek. “Go on and give me a kiss. Let your man know he’s making you feel good.”

            “Dude, no. . .” Ryan started, getting defensive.

            “I like my girl to make out with me a little when I’m making her feel good.” Michael said, starting to fuck him harder. “I thought you wanted to be treated like one of my girls.” The sounds of his hips slamming into his teammate were getting louder and louder. Ryan could feel Phelps’s balls slapping against his own.

            “Easy man!” He said, gritting his teeth.

            “Answer me, Lochte. Do you want me to fuck you like a man or do you want to be treated like one of my girls?”

            The speed at which Phelps was fucking him was too much on his formerly virgin hole. His mind was racing with implications. Before he fully come to a decision he just bit the bullet and leaned his head back to meet his lips with his rival’s.

            At once Michael slowed down his pace and kissed his teammate gently. Ryan moaned audibly as Phelps’s big piece of meet rubbed him gently in all the right places.

            “That’s it.” Phelps cooed in his ear, breaking away from his lips for a moment. “Be my girl and make your man feel good.”

            For some reason when Michael said it this time, it didn’t make Ryan clench his fists. He wanted to make Michael feel good. His instincts were coming out and it wasn’t about pride anymore. It was about making each other feel good.

            This time Lochte didn’t wait for Michael to make the next move. He reached back and grabbed Phelps’s head and gently pulled him in for another kiss, thrusting his tongue in his rival’s mouth.

            “Fuck, you’re really getting into this aren’t you, Lochte?” Michael asked, pulling at his lip with his teeth.

            “This feels so fucking good. . .” Ryan groaned, closing his eyes.

            Again they heard the door to the locker room opening and they both immediately froze, panicked.

            “Phelps, you in there?” Michael heard one of his handlers calling him.

            “Yeah man. That win just really took it out of me. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

            Ryan could feel Michael’s heart beating against his back.

            “Alright Phelps. The media’s practically wetting themselves to ask you more questions in front of the cameras. Lochte’s nowhere to be found either.”

            Michael’s cock throbbed uncontrollably against his teammate’s prostate, causing the man underneath him to groan audibly.

            “You know Lochte, though.” The guy laughed as he headed back to the door. “That guy probably couldn’t wait five minutes to go get laid.”

            “You know what, I think you’re right. There’s no doubt in my mind Ryan Lochte is looking to blow his wad right about now.” Michael smirked, looking down at his teammate currently pinned against the wall with 10 thick inches of champion cock inside of him. “Catch you in a couple.”

            They heard the door close and the two of them instantly sighed with relief.

            “Looks like someone has a reputation.” Michael laughed, kissing him.

            “Alright man, can we just get this over with?”

            “Whatever you say, Lochte. On your back.” He replied, pulling out of him.

            “W-what do you mean?”

            “Come on. I like looking down at my girl when I cum inside of her.”

            “You’re such a fucking asshole, Phelps.” Ryan sighed as he lowered himself to the floor and got on his back. It was such a sign of submission, laying there with his legs up in front of this cocky athlete.

            Michael leaned over him and kissed him, tapping his giant cockhead at his rival’s opening. “Come on, spread those legs and open up for your man. Let him know you’re happy to let him have it.”

            Ryan rolled his eyes and spread his legs further, giving his teammate complete access to his formerly virgin hole.

            Michael pressed forward, making sure to enter him smoothly and not cause him any unnecessary pain.

            “Damn, that’s good.” He cooed in his ear, kissing his neck. “You know this is quality pussy right here, man.”

            Lochte winced as his rival talked to him in such a crude manner, but he couldn’t deny the fact that his own cock was still rock-hard laying against his abs.

            Michael seemed to notice and grinned. “Go on. Play with yourself while you give it up for me.”

            Rather than argue with him, Ryan took his cock in his hand and started jacking himself off in time with his teammate’s thrusts inside of him. Before too long he was breathing heavily and almost groaning in pleasure.


            “Be quiet, man.” Michael hushed him, making no effort to slow his deep thrusts into him. “You’re moaning like a fucking chick and they’re going to think I’ve got a girl in here.” A wicked grin spread across his face as he increased his pace, causing Lochte’s moans to get even louder until they reached an almost feminine pitch.

            “Fuck! Fuck!” Lochte shouted, completely getting lost in the moment.

            “Easy, easy, girl.” Michael said to him, realizing he really was going to make people hear him if he didn’t ease up on him. “Dude, I can’t believe how into this you are.”

            At this point Ryan didn’t even care anymore. The pleasure he was experiencing was too great to deny himself any longer. He was jacking himself off with deep, succulent strokes now and he didn’t care how he looked.

            “Fuck me harder, man.” He begged, kissing him.

            “You want me to-“

            “Just fuck me harder!” Ryan groaned, slipping his tongue into his mouth.

            Michael complied and started fucking him with deep strokes now, making sure to hit his prostate with every thrust. Lochte was moaning uncontrollably underneath him and kissing him hungrily.

            “Mmmm. . . MMMmmm. . . MMMM. . . .MMMM! Oh fuck!” Lochte groaned into him. “Fuck man! You’re- You’re gonna make me-!”

            “Holy shit, Lochte-“ Phelps gasped, completely thrown for a loop.

            “GAAAAHHH!” Lochte yelled as he started shooting all over himself. Big white spurts completely coating his torso in cum as his orgasm pulsed through him.

            His hole constricted around his rival’s huge cock as he came, pushing Michael over the edge with him. “Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up, Lochte!” Michael grunted through gritted teeth as he started shooting inside of his teammate.

            Ryan’s orgasm was still pulsing through him as he felt Phelps’s cock jerk inside of him and start planting his seed up inside of him. It was the strangest, most intoxicating feeling he had ever experienced. He finally understood what all those thousands of girls he had fucked had experienced as he shot his load deep inside of them. The warm seed of the most decorated athlete in Olympic history pooled inside of him, causing his toes to curl at the thought. He’d never experienced anything like this.

            “FUCK!” Phelps grunted, hanging his head down against his teammate’s as he continued shooting. Their lips instinctively connected together as they felt Michael ride out his orgasm. Lochte’s toes were curled in the throes of ecstasy as he completely gave himself to his rival.

            As Phelps finally finished emptying his seed inside of him, he leaned is head back and looked down at the man underneath him. He didn’t even know what to say.

            Immediately Ryan’s judgment came flooding back to him, now that his dick wasn’t doing the talking anymore. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had 10 inches of cock buried inside of him and he felt extremely humiliated.

            Phelps felt the sudden change in temperament and gently pulled out of his teammate, wiping his brow.

            “Man, that was- that was something else. . .” He said, catching his breath. He looked down at the splatter of cum all over his rival’s chiseled torso. “You know, all I said was that you had to let me fuck you. I never said you had to cum while I was inside of you.” He gloated with a smirk.

            “Oh fuck off, Phelps.” Ryan fired back defensively. He pulled himself up and turned on the shower, wanting to wash his cum off of his body.

            “Hey man, listen.” Michael said seriously. “This was just a bet, alright? I’m not going to read anything into it. I promise.” He extended his hand for him to shake.

            “Alright, thanks Phelps.” Lochte replied, gratefully, and shook it. ““Dude, that was seriously the best nut of my entire life.” He said, washing himself under the water.

            “No kidding?” Michael asked, squeezing under the stream with him.

            “Swear to god.” Ryan replied, holding his hand up. “I don’t know what the fuck you were doing, but it felt really, really good.”

            “Glad to hear it, man.” Michael grinned. “It makes me wonder, though. . .”

            “Yeah, what’s that?”

            “I wonder how it would have felt if you had told me to fuck you like a man.”

            “Oh fuck off, Phelps.” Ryan laughed, nudging him playfully in the shoulder.

            “Real quick.” Phelps said, reaching for his phone and his speedo. “Throw this on.”

            “Oh come on man, seriously? Ryan laughed, holding the speedo in his hands with ‘PHELPS’ printed in big letters on the back of it.

            “For my girl.” Michael nodded. “I want her to see this.”

            “You know, Phelps, you’re lucky I’m such a good sport about this. . .” Ryan muttered, stepping into the speedo and stretching it over his bubble butt.

            “Jesus Christ. . .” Michael marveled as the material stretched to accommodate him.

            “I got a nice ass.” Lochte shrugged. “Now would you just take the damn picture already?”

            Michael snapped a few from different angles and put his phone back in his bag. “Thanks for being a man of your word, Lochte. I respect that.”

            “Of course.” Ryan nodded. “Now are you going to be a dick about this or are we going to be mature about it?”

            “I don’t see any reason to ruin a good thing.”

            “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

            “Nothing like some healthy competition among teammates.” Phelps shrugged.

            “Yeah, we’ll see about that. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you on your back with your legs up next time.”

            “I don’t know, I’d kind of like another repeat of what we just did.” Phelps laughed.

            At that moment the door opened and another handler called out to them. “Press in 90 seconds, Phelps.”

            “You got it.” He called back. He turned back to his rival and gave him one last look over. "You know, I kind of like that you've got my boys swimming around in you right now. . . They're good swimmers. Hell, maybe you could learn a little thing or to and beat me tomorrow night." 

            "Are you finished?" Lochte replied, rolling his eyes. 

            "I guess we'll be finding out this time tomorrow night, won't we?" 

            "I guess we will." Ryan nodded. "Don't go easy on me now." 

            "Wouldn't dream of it. Besides. . . I think you've proven that you can handle yourself just fine." 

             "Alright, now get out of here and go put on a show for the cameras, Golden Boy. Middle America wants their mascot back. You big-dicked monster."


            The news reporter held their microphone in front of Ryan Lochte’s face as the other swimmers raced behind him.

            “So tell me Ryan, how do you think you’ll fare in the individual competition tomorrow night? You’ve got some pretty stiff competition.”

            “You know, I think I’ve really got a spark lit under me tonight and I just can’t wait to use it tomorrow night and really finish this thing on top.”

            “I like that. And do you have any words for Michael Phelps? You know the people at home love a good, friendly rivalry.”

            Ryan Lochte opened his mouth to reply but at that very second he felt some of Michael’s load start to drip out of him and slowly run down his leg. He subtly crossed his legs and smeared it into his skin as 10 cameras and the entire world watched his every move.

            “Michael and I have a unique kind or relationship. There’s no one who’s going to push me to swim harder tomorrow. I’m going to promise you right now, I’m going to give it my all tomorrow night and there’s no doubt in my mind which one of us is going to come out on top.” His hole pulsed again and he felt more cum dripping out of him. He took a deep breath and looked directly into the camera with that cocky, signature smirk of his. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. If I have to lose to anyone tomorrow night, I sure as hell hope it’s him.”



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