Shared Secrets and Stolen Moments
The next morning dawned crisp and bright, the Dolomites casting long shadows over the village as athletes stirred to life. Andrew rolled out of bed with a groan, muscles sore in the best way, a dull ache between his legs reminding him of Florian's relentless thrusts. He smiled at the ceiling, replaying the night: the way Florian had taken control, then softened just enough to talk afterward. It was more than a hookup. It felt like the start of something reckless and real.
He checked his phone. A message from Florian waited.
MuscleEmoji: Good practice today. Focus on your line.
Andrew chuckled. Bossy even in text. He replied quickly.
Andrew: Will do. You racing today?
MuscleEmoji: Training heats. Come watch if you can.
Andrew's heart skipped. An invitation? Public? He dressed fast, layering up against the chill, his team jacket snug over base layers. Breakfast was a blur, teammates chattering about strategy, but Andrew's mind wandered to the bobsleigh track. He had seen it from afar: a twisting ribbon of ice snaking down the mountain, floodlights glinting off the curves.
After morning drills, where his sweeps felt sharper than ever, Andrew begged off the afternoon session with a vague excuse about scouting venues. Callum eyed him suspiciously but waved him on. "Don't get distracted, lad."
Too late for that.
The bobsleigh venue buzzed with energy, crowds bundled in parkas, the air filled with the roar of sleds hurtling down the track. Andrew found a spot near the start house, blending into the spectators. He spotted the German team immediately: hulking figures in sleek suits, helmets under arms. Florian stood out, towering over his crew, his dark blond hair tousled from the wind, blue eyes focused on the track official.
Andrew's breath caught. In daylight, Florian looked even more imposing, his body poured into the tight racing suit that left little to imagination. The fabric clung to every muscle, outlining the broad chest, thick thighs, the bulge at his crotch. Blond body hair peeked at the collar, trimmed but visible, a tease that made Andrew's mouth water. He remembered licking into those pits, the salty taste, and shifted uncomfortably, his cock stirring in his jeans.
The announcer called the German four-man team. Florian took his position as pilot, settling into the sled with practiced ease. His teammates piled in behind: three other beefy guys, one of them a dark-haired brute who clapped Florian on the shoulder with easy camaraderie. Andrew felt a pang of something unfamiliar. Jealousy? No, curiosity. Who was that guy to Florian?
The sled launched, rocketing down the track in a blur of speed and precision. Andrew held his breath, watching on the big screen as they navigated turns, bodies leaning in unison. Florian's focus was absolute, his face set in concentration. They crossed the finish with a time that drew cheers from the German contingent. Solid training run.
Andrew lingered as the team debriefed, Florian stripping off his helmet, sweat dampening his hair. Their eyes met across the barrier. Florian's expression didn't change, but he nodded once, subtle. Andrew's phone buzzed.
MuscleEmoji: Saw you. My place after dinner.
Heat flooded Andrew. He typed back.
Andrew: Wouldn't miss it. Congrats on the run.
No reply, but he didn't expect one. Florian wasn't the type for chit-chat.
The rest of the day dragged. Curling practice in the evening honed Andrew's edge further. He visualized the stone's path like Florian had suggested: moment by moment, not the whole game. It worked. His deliveries landed perfectly, earning praise from the team.
"You on fire today, Wright," Callum said, thumping his back. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up."
Andrew grinned. If only they knew.
Dinner passed in a haze of anticipation. He scarfed his food, mind already on Florian's door. At eight, he knocked again, heart racing.
Florian opened, fresh from a shower, towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing down his chest. The blond hair there glistened, leading Andrew's gaze to the treasure trail disappearing beneath the fabric.
"Get in," Florian said, pulling him inside by the shirt.
The door shut, and Florian pinned him against it, mouth crashing down. The kiss was hungry, all teeth and tongue, Florian's beard scraping Andrew's skin. Large hands roamed, stripping Andrew's jacket, shirt, pants in quick tugs until he stood naked, cock hard and leaking.
"You watched me," Florian growled, nipping his neck.
"Yeah," Andrew gasped. "You looked so fucking hot in that suit."
Florian smirked, dropping the towel. His cock hung heavy, thickening under Andrew's stare. The pubes were full, blond curls framing the base, a stark contrast to his trimmed chest. He flexed his arms, pits exposed, that masculine hair drawing Andrew in like a magnet.
"Suck me," Florian ordered, guiding Andrew to his knees.
Andrew obeyed eagerly, mouth watering. He took Florian in, lips stretching around the girth, tongue swirling the foreskin. Florian groaned, hand fisting Andrew's hair, guiding the rhythm. Andrew hollowed his cheeks, taking more, gagging slightly but pushing through. The taste was musky, heady, mixed with soap from the shower.
"Good," Florian praised, voice rough. "Deeper."
Andrew relaxed his throat, nose burying in those pubes, inhaling the scent. Florian thrust gently, fucking his mouth with control. Saliva dripped, messy and hot. Andrew's own cock throbbed untouched, pre-cum beading.
"Enough," Florian pulled back, hauling Andrew up. He tossed him onto the bed face down, ass up. "Spread."
Andrew complied, cheeks flushing as Florian's hands parted him. A tongue licked broad over his hole, wet and insistent. Andrew moaned into the pillow, hips bucking.
"Stay still," Florian commanded, holding him down.
The rimming was thorough, tongue probing deep, beard scratching sensitive skin. Andrew writhed, cock grinding against the sheets. Fingers joined, one then two, stretching him open with lube-slick ease.
"Please," Andrew begged. "Fuck me."
Florian chuckled. "Patience."
He teased longer, edging Andrew with licks and thrusts until he sobbed with need. Finally, Florian sheathed himself, positioned, and sank in one slow push. The fullness made Andrew see stars, prostate hit perfectly.
They fucked hard, Florian's weight pressing him down, hips snapping. Sweat slicked their bodies, Florian's chest hair tickling Andrew's back. He reached around, stroking Andrew in time with his thrusts.
"Come with me," Florian grunted.
Andrew shattered first, clenching tight, spilling onto the sheets. Florian followed, burying deep with a muffled curse.
They lay tangled after, breaths syncing. Florian didn't pull away immediately, his hand tracing lazy circles on Andrew's hip.
"You did well today," Andrew murmured. "That run was insane."
Florian hummed. "Team effort. My brakeman, Sven, he's key."
Andrew turned, facing him. "The dark-haired one? You two seem close."
Florian tensed slightly. "Best friend. Teammates for years."
Andrew hesitated, then asked. "Does he know? About you?"
Florian's blue eyes shuttered. "No. Nobody does."
"Why not? You're a gold medalist. They wouldn't care."
Florian stared at the ceiling. "Bobsleigh is... macho. Jokes about fags in the locker room. I don't want to risk it."
Andrew propped up. "But you're miserable hiding."
"Not miserable." Florian's tone sharpened. "Focused."
Andrew softened his voice. "You can be both. Open and focused."
Florian sighed, pulling Andrew closer. "Maybe. Tell me about your day."
Andrew shared practice details, how Florian's advice helped. They talked longer this time, Florian opening up about his first Olympics, the pressure, the wins. No emotions spilled, but facts laced with vulnerability. Andrew felt him relax, walls cracking.
As Andrew dressed, Florian watched. "Tomorrow, my final. Yours too?"
"Qualifiers," Andrew said. "Come watch me after?"
Florian nodded. "Yeah."
Andrew kissed him goodbye, lingering. Outside, the stars wheeled overhead, the village quiet. He felt lighter, not just from the sex, but the connection. Florian was learning to share, and Andrew to steady himself. It was working.
...To be continued
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