International Cowgirl - Sex Stories

International Cowgirl

If your intention was to escape the roar of the crowd packed into the giant stadium, the best place to be probably wasn’t the changing rooms. But this was the only place Lulu knew where she could find any degree of privacy. Of course, she wasn’t the only one collapsed head-down on a wooden bench, her arms draped over her knees and hands dangling loosely down. Women from events other than hers were slumped in a similar state of post-performance blues. Unsurprisingly it was those not celebrating victory who had chosen to hide away for as long as they could from the cameras, the crowds and the all-too-apparent disappointment of the nation they represented and its media. Even if Lulu had done better than she had, perhaps qualifying for the next and final round, she knew that at the end of it she would still feel a huge weight lift off her that would leave her with a correspondingly huge void in her life. It wasn’t just winning, of course. It was also participating and she did have the honour of being one of the two representatives Kenya had entered for the event: as many as Russia, the United States and China, not to mention the more formidable competition from Tanzania, South Africa and Nigeria. In recent years, it was the African nations that had excelled at the International Cowgirl event and so expectations and standards were very high. All of which was scarce consolation to Lulu for having let down her nation so badly in the contest. Well, not so badly that she had come ...

... last, although it was mostly competitors from the Middle East and Europe whose scores Lulu had bettered. And worse than not having qualified for the next round was that Lulu had come nowhere near her personal best. Even in the contest against her own standards, she had not excelled. She’d expected to score higher than, at the very least, Argentina and Turkey, but here she was, the first of the Kenyans to be eliminated: destined now to be only the smallest footnote in the history of the International Cowgirl. She knew, even before the judges presented their score-boards, that she hadn’t quite done it. At least the Venezuelan judge had given her a nine but the other scores were a scattering of sevens and eights. Not nearly good enough. Particularly when her fellow Kenyan, Ghatoni, had scored mostly nines and that was with the same male partner as Lulu. Chilemba couldn’t be blamed for failing her, although she still felt that he’d let her down slightly when his prick slipped out of her vagina at the crucial change of posture to full reverse cowgirl: her feet placed on his knees, ankles in and toes out, and upper body supported by her hands clutching his shoulders. It was a difficult manoeuvre, but one Lulu really should have handled better. She ought to have been more sensitive to the relative size of Chilemba’s penis and her vulva’s grip on its glans. But it was more the cumulative effect, not just the small slip, which had lowered her tally. As her coach told her when she sat on ...