This story is of course fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of Michael Phelps, Ryk Neethling or anyone else mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives.
Ryk Neethling was depressed. Four years ago in Athens his South African teammates and he had swum to gold in the 4x100 freestyle relay, setting a new world record while achieving their Olympic goal. However, four years later, here in Beijing, things could not have gone worse. Not only had they come in 7th place, but they had seen their Olympic record broken. Ryk could not believe it, how could he have been on the top of his game four years ago, only to have lost so badly in the pool this year.
As the rest of his teammates left, Ryk decided he would stick around to watch the medal ceremony for the event, hoping that seeing it would help him remember happier times. As he saw the American team draped with gold around their necks, it only made him more depressed, as he trudged back to his locker room to change.
Finding the locker room deserted, he began to strip out of his warm up suit and down to his swim trunks. While Ryk was now 30 years of age, you could never tell by looking at his body. Years of swimming had left it toned and defined, a body that most men 10 years his younger would die for. As he ran his hand over his hard pec, brushing against his sensitive nipples and over his rippled stomach, he was consoled by the fact that he was still one hell of a stud, and that he was determined to keep swimming.
Lost in his own thoughts, he did not see Michael Phelps come in to the locker room. While the rest of his relay team had gone out to celebrate their amazing come from behind victory over the French, Phelps had 6 more races on his mind to think about, and had decided to let his teammates go out without him. However, his motives were far from pure. Catching sight of Ryk from the podium, he was hoping he would run into the South African stud in the locker room, and he was not disappointed.
Catching sight of Phelps, gold hung around his neck, Ryk congratulated the American star on his victory, eliciting a warm smile and a few words of gratitude from Michael Phelps.
As Michael retired to his locker, only a few down from the one Ryk was using, Ryk could not help but remember the events that transpired after his teams relay win in Athens. While they may have been cocky and bold, the South Africans had made a wager with the Americans in 2004 that they, the South Africans, would swim off with the gold. Being equally cocky, the Americans agreed to the wager and put their asses on the line...literally. The team who won the gold would get to fuck the losers. Ryk was positive that it was this motivation which had inspired his teammates and he to swim to a new world record time, but whatever the factor, the South Africans had won and collected their prizes. Ryk would never forget the night that he and his Olympic village roommate and relay teammate, Lyndon Ferns, had taken the Americans Michael Phelps and Ian Crocker up to their room to claim their prize. The bet had been arranged so that each member of the winning team would get to fuck one member of the losing team, and while Ryk was not upset with picking Ian Crocker, he was a little jealous of Lyndon when he was chosen to get to fuck Michael Phelps.
It was a night that Ryk would remember for the rest of his life, there he was with Ian Crocker bent at the waist over his, forcing his 8" uncut dick up this American's ass, forcing him to take it like a man, his balls slapping against his ass, forcing groans from Ian Crocker. While Crocker was undoubtedly a hot lay, Ryk could not help but look over every once in awhile to see Lyndon and Michael going at it on the bed across the room. Lyndon was really laying into Michael, and seeing how much Michael enjoyed it, how hot his body looked when his muscles were taught while fucking, how he moaned and begged for it harder, made Ryk want him all the more. It was on that night, with his dick buried deep in Ian Crocker's tight little asshole, that he promised himself he would one day fuck Michael Phelps.
In the four years that had passed since that night, Michael's reputation for being a cockslut had only grown, and Ryk was determined that this would be the year he would get to sample Michael's near legendary ass.
Now, standing here in only his swim trunks, his cock semi-hard from thinking about past encounters, and Michael Phelps only a few feet away with no one else around, Ryk decided to make his move.
Taking his Olympic ID in his hand, he dropped it on the floor and kicked it underneath the lockers.
"Oh shit" Ryk said, loud enough to make sure that Michael had heard it.
Phelps heard it and looked up from his own locker. "What's wrong, something I can help you with?" Phelps said. He had been in the middle of getting out of his warm up suit and the only things he was wearing were his skimpy Speedo swim suit and his Olympic Gold medal around his neck.
"Yeah, I dropped my ID under the locker and I can't seem to get it, think you might be able to help me out." Ryk asked, following it up with a friendly smile.
Phelps responded with his own goofy grin, and got up and walked over to Ryk's locker.
"Yeah, I think, it fell somewhere over there" Ryk said as he pointed to the floor. "Any chance you think you could get it?"
"Not a problem" Phelps said, as he got on all fours on the floor, reaching underneath the locker to try and get to the ID, his ass involuntarily sticking up in the air.
This was the invitation Ryk had been waiting for. Reaching down with his hands, Ryk grabbed the plump ass of Michael Phelps, cupping both of the American's ass cheeks with his own hands and feeling how they were both soft and hard at the same time. While he was not sure how Michael would react, Ryk was pleased that his actions were greeted with a low hum of approval from Michael, Phelps pushing his ass back, loving how the South African hands were exploring his ass through the thin material.
Ryk continued to explore Michael's body, rubbing and touching the entirety of his hard body, paying special attention to his pert nipples and ample dick, though while still contained by his suit, was getting harder by the moment.
Getting down on his knees, Ryk pulled down Michael's suit to around the American's knees, exposing the perfect ass. While Michael was a legend for being a cock whore, the legend also included how tight his ass still was even after the dozens of athletes who had fucked him over the years were done with him. When Ryk spread Phelps' two cheeks apart, he was greeted with the sight of a tight hole, practically hairless, that he could not wait to fuck. However, he decided he would let Phelps wait a few more minutes.
Spitting onto the hole, Ryk began to lick up and down Phelps' crack, the taste of chlorine mixing with the smell of sweat and something else he could not quite identify, though it tasted a bit salty. His actions were greeted with approval, as Phelps pushed back, egging Ryk on. Grabbing firm hold of both of Michael's buttocks, Ryk opened it as though it were a rare delicacy, and began to feast on the prize inside. Licking around the spasming hole, he soon began to force the tip of his tongue into Michael's ass, deeper and deeper, preparing him for the fucking that was soon to come. His tongue was soon darting in and out of a writhing Michael Phelps, the American overcome by the sheer amount of pleasure he was receiving from this South African swimmer, but he, like Ryk, was ready for the main event.
Removing his tongue from Michael's ass, Ryk fished into his swim trunks, finding his cock already hard, eager to proceed.
"You want this South African fuckstick? You want me to fuck you up your little gold winning American cunt?" Ryk said while pulling his own swim trunks down to his waist, freeing his 8" manhood.
"God, yes, please fill me up, make me your cum slut, fuck me like I know how you South Africans can fuck." Michael pleaded, his asshole begging to be filled.
"All right you little slut, hold on, I am going to make you wish it had been me fucking you four years ago in the Olympic Village." Ryk said as he took hold of his dick, spit on it, and began to tease Michael's tight hole with it, poking and prodding at the resisting sphincter.
Lining his massive prick up with Phelps' hole, he pushed forward, burying 3" in one thrust into the ass of his American rival, moans of pleasure escaping from both their lips. Pulling out just a little, he slammed back in, only to be met by Michael's own movements of his ass pushing back, so turned on was Phelps that he could not wait to be impaled by this swimming stud who was about to fuck him silly. With both of them wanting it, it was only a few minutes until Ryk was buried balls deep in Michael's tight ass. With his cock firmly planted in Phelps' ass, Ryk began to rotate his hips in a clockwise motion; Michael began to moan like a bitch in heat, his swollen lips crying out due to the pleasure.
Convinced that Phelps was ready for the real powerfucking to begin, Ryk reached for Michael's hair, eager to grab a handful for leverage while he fucked the American beneath him as hard as he could. However, he was only to be stymied by the fact that Phelps had shaved his head for the Olympics; the little bit of hair still on his head not enough for a fistful and the desired leverage Ryk craved.
Not to be deterred, Ryk grabbed for the next closest thing, the gold medal which was still hanging around Phelps' neck. Taking hold of the red fabric, he turned and maneuvered it around Michael's neck until he held the actual gold medal in his hand, and pulled back. The force was enough to force Michael's head to snap back and up, his Adam's apple protruding from his neck.
So, with one hand gripping his rival's gold medal, and his other resting on Phelps' ass, Ryk began to fuck Michael for all he was worth.
His cock was like a piston, sliding in and out of Michael's ass like a well oiled machine. His balls slapping against Phelps' firm buttocks each and every time he buried his cock to the hilt inside of Phelps' welcoming ass. He himself could not believe it, two Olympic champions, the apex of human masculinity and perfection, on the ground in the Beijing aquatic center, fucking like rabbits.
As he continued to pound into his weaker partner, the smell and sounds of sex filled the room, their bodies glistening with sweat, a low guttural sound escaping from Phelps' as his head was still snapped back in the unnatural position by the firm grip Ryk had on his gold medal.
Every once in awhile Ryk would stare down, watching his obscenely hard member split Michael's ass, swallowed up by the red and yawning hole of Michael, letting his cock every once in a while slip from the vice like grip of Phelps' ass, only to be amused at how his ass still remained open, as though it were expecting Ryk's cock, as though it was made for cock. Ryk would quickly plug that hole up again and began to fuck Phelps even harder, eliciting moans from his partner.
Ryk continued to ride Phelps' ass doggystyle, harder and harder. He muttered at Michael bitterly, commenting on how tight his cunt was, slapping his ass as the minutes passed. Ryk's ass clenched as he powerfucked his rival's man pussy, his foreskin slick.
Dropping the gold medal from his grasp, Ryk put both his hands on Michael's ass, pulling it back harder and harder in order to let his cock reach ever deeper into the Olympic stud's ass. While Ryk continued to pummel Michael's ass, his cock began hitting Phelps' g-spot, causing the American to gasp, his hands to clench up and almost claw at the floor. As Ryk continued to rock Phelps' ass, both the gold medal around Michael's neck and his own 7" cock between his legs were swinging back and forth in time with the fucking Ryk was giving, creating an erotic tempo that Ryk was eager to maintain.
After some minutes of continuing his assault on what was by now Phelps' well worn hole, Ryk knew he was getting close, and was getting close to blowing his load. Using his long arm to reach around and under Michael's tight body, he grabbed hold of Phelps' rock hard prick and began to milk it, eager to make Michael cum while his own dick was still buried in his ass. Stimulating the underside of the head with his thumb, Ryk continued to stroke Phelps' cock, eager to taste the prize that was undoubtedly boiling in his American balls.
Overcome with pleasure, Michael let out one last guttural moan before his seed spilled out of his cock and all over the floor of the Olympic locker room. As Phelps' came, his ass became almost impossibly tight, gripping Ryk's thick member with its velvet lined walls and forcing his heavy balls to tighten in their loose, low hanging sac. Ryk's balls erupted, sending jet after jet of searing cum deep up inside Michael's tunnel coating his insides with molten hot semen. He deposited 5 huge loads inside Michael's hot little ass, before he pulled out and sprayed 3 more loads onto Michael's ass and back, marking the cum slut which lay before him as his own.
Exhausted from the fucking he had just taken, Phelps' collapsed onto the floor, his cock still oozing cum from his own orgasm, collecting in a little pool on the floor. Collecting a little bit of the American cum on his fingers, Ryk placed them in his mouth, sucking on them, tasting the very essence of Michael Phelps, pleased with the taste of the American swimmer's seed. Pulling up his swim suit, Ryk patted Phelps on the ass a few times, reached over and grabbed his ID and proceeded to walk out of the locker room, pausing only for a moment to turn around and give Michael a few words.
"Thanks for the hot fuck; let's make sure it's not another four years before we do it again." Was all he said as Ryk exited the room, leaving Phelps exhausted on the floor.
Phelps could only smile and laugh quietly to himself. Laying naked on the floor, his ass and back coated with South African cum and a gold medal around his neck, he could not be happier. The only thing he could think of was what other athletes he might get to fuck before this Olympics were over.
That is the end of part 2; I hope you enjoyed reading it. I loved the amount of feedback I got on the first installment and the possible partners for Michael that were suggested. Keep the suggestions and the feedback coming. Nothing makes me want to write more than getting feedback from readers. Let me know what you think and what you would like to see next at badboy50040@hotmail.com
Look forward to hearing from you!