International Cowgirl - Sex Stories

International Cowgirl

... called her own. Before then, she was interviewed by newspapers, magazines, and radio and television stations from not only Kenya but from all over African. None, of course, from outside the continent and only one from North Africa. And none of these interviews, brief though they were, made her feel any better. How did she feel? How disappointed was she? What were her plans for the future? The bland answers she gave were all a shield behind which Lulu struggled to work out for herself what she really thought and what she should do. The fact she was spared the need for further practise didn’t make it any easier. A mindless fuck where she could concentrate her energies on technique and presentation would actually have been quite welcome. Instead, she had to join the rest of the Kenyan delegation in congratulating those who had done better than she, were destined for better things, and for whom there was still a chance for bronze, silver or even gold. It was difficult to wholeheartedly wish the best to others when you knew that you had no chance to emulate their glory. Lulu’s sympathies, in truth, went to those, like her, who had already tasted all the glory they were likely to have and were also disappointed in what they’d achieved. Failure makes strange bedfellows. She found herself chatting with Annouchka from the Ukrainian team who’d also competed in the cowgirl event and had scored rather worse than Lulu thanks, it seemed, to a sore ankle. She also passed words with Lars, ...

... a Norwegian who had failed to ejaculate on more than two of his partners in the Multiple Anal event. But it was Ducha who received most of Lulu’s attention. She was exhausted from her practise sessions with a mere twenty men and was worried that she’d flag before even the first one hundred in the coming marathon. And it was inevitable that Lulu should spend the night with Ducha while her husband was practising anal with a male contestant in another bed. And now she was alone at last, she was restless and fidgety. She didn’t intend to dwell on her performance of the previous day, but she was drawn to pick at it like a sore scab or scratch it like an itch. Soon she was replaying on the official Sex Olympics site the footage of her part in the International Cowgirl event, together with the critical commentary provided by the BBC. It was peculiar, of course, to see herself as others saw her. Her legs were apart. Her shaved crotch faced the camera. All that could be seen of Chilemba was his testicles and the shaft of his penis thrusting in and out of her vagina. She was naked, of course, as was required for such events. Clothing, shoes or even make-up was not considered appropriate for a sporting event. That sort of thing was more appropriate for beauty contests, porn shows or videos than for a serious-minded competition like the Tenth International Sex Olympics. Nevertheless, watching the footage of her performance, again and again and yet again, only reinforced Lulu’s sense of ...