They ended up on the bed, attempting to keep kissing while they also tried to take each other’s clothes off, a charade that ended with them side-by-side on the bed, laughing uproariously.
"Hmmm. Maybe I should just get these off and then kiss the daylights out of you," Warren said, pulling at her blouse.
"Yeah. It was worth a shot, though," Sophia laughed. She went for his belt buckle. She pulled his belt out of his pants, as he slipped her blouse off of her. He went for the bra as she went for the snap on his jeans.
They ended up in a squirming heap, grasping at bits of the other’s clothing, which somehow managed to come flying out of the writhing mass of arms and legs. They ended up giggling again, but finally naked, and then started making out.
They were kissing, and Warren moved off of Sophie’s lips and went to nibble on her earlobe. "You sure you want to get all big again?" he teased, whispering in her earlobe.
"Yes," she hissed. "You love me that way and you know it."
"True, all true." He kissed his way down her neck, and then moved lower, taking her boob into his mouth. He sucked on her nipple, making her groan, and moved his hand between her leg. "Oooh, baby-making turns my Pookie on," he said, after feeling how wet she was.
"Uh-huh," she groaned. Warren slipped a finger into her and it slipped right in. "Oh, God, honey!" she gasped. After a minute or two of that, she rubbed the back of his head and said, "I don’t think I need any more foreplay tonight."
Warren pulled off of her boob. "Need and want are two different things," he grinned.
"True," she grinned. "So, I want you to fuck me."
"Ah," Warren said, then moved up so he was between her legs. He aimed, and easily slid into her.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "Oh, Warren!" He started moving in and out of her, slowly at first, working up to a rhythm. "Oh, God," she gasped, "I’m so turned on I’m gonna cum real soon!"
"Oh, yeah," Warren hissed, and picked up the pace. She was right-it didn’t take long at all before she stiffened underneath him, screaming his name, as her hips came up off the bed. Warren held himself deep inside her and ground against her clit, as her pussy clenched around his dick.
After she settled down a little, he started moving again. She moaned. "You close?" she asked.
"Getting there," he grunted.
"C’mon, baby," she chanted. "Cum in me. Make me a baby. Do it, love. Make me a baby. Cum in me, cum in me…"
That was all Warren needed to hear!
Afterwards, curled up in a heap on the bed, Sophie giggled and said, "That was quick for us."
"Goal-oriented fucking," Warren quipped, making Sophie crack up. "Of course, you were so turned on that you were halfway there before we got the clothes off."
"And you weren’t?"
"OK, I admit it," he laughed.
"Well, honey, just to make sure, you know-we’re going to probably have to do this for the next couple of nights, at least."
Warren chuckled, and said, "I do believe I can deal with that."
THE WAY THINGS WORK OUT (Chapter 169)
They started Tuesday on the mountain, with their skiing-fan friends, to watch the men’s Super Giant Slalom. Another chance for Alan Zimmer and the Austrian champ, Ingo Buell, to battle it out.
"As long as we don’t have any more pesky Canadians getting in the way," Otto joked.
They didn’t. Ingo Buell skied excellently. However, three skiers later, Alan Zimmer skied the Super G of his life, beating Buell by a full half-second. When all was said and done, Zimmer had won his first Olympic gold medal. The Austrians good-naturedly grumbled-and celebrated with Warren and Sophie. Buell took the silver.
That night, on the ice, was the men’s short program.
Sophia and Warren sat in the stands with a very nervous Kristin. "I think I’m more nervous than Tom is," Kristin confessed with a giggle. "God, I so want him to skate well."
"He will," Warren assured her. "He’s ready for this."
He skated fairly early, and did skate well. He was perfectly clean, and skated with verve and flair. He took the early lead.
However, looming in the later groups was the three-time World Champion, Lavrenti Bladanikov. He was one of the last skaters to skate. Tom was still in the lead when he took the ice.
Everything started out well. He did a fine spin, and some choreography. Then he took off into his combination-the quadruple toe-triple toe. He went up into the quad, landed-and put a hand down.
"Yes!" Kristin hissed softly. Then looked chagrined. "Jeez, it’s not nice to root against people."
"It’s only natural," Warren laughed.
Bladanikov completed the rest of his program without error, but blowing the combination was a huge mistake. That was an automatic.5 deduction on the technical mark.
However, his presentation marks were so high that he still managed to finish the short program in third place. That kept him in contention, because anyone in the top three would win the gold if they won the long program.
"What a gift," Sophia snorted.
"Of course. He’s the three-time defending world champ and he’s Russian. Two things that move him right to the front of the gift-getting line," Warren said.
Tom wasn’t upset, though, when they talked to him afterwards. "I expected them to somehow keep him in the top three. The big thing is, though, I have momentum."
"That’s the spirit," Warren told him.
The next day, Wednesday, after a morning practice, Warren and Sophia headed off to the luge run.
It was the second day of the women’s luge. Warren wanted to come and watch Marta, the Estonian luger who carried their flag in the Opening Ceremonies that Warren had chatted with. Sophia and Warren got there, and checked out the scoreboard-after the first two runs, Marta was in third, behind two German lugers.
They found a place near the luge run-and were surprised to see Marta walking along side, working out the kinks in her muscles. "Warren! You came!"
"Sure did. We love all these sports, anyhow." He introduced Marta to Sophia.
"This is great! I love the Olympics, you get to meet so many people," Marta grinned. "I’m going to be watching you guys skate, too, but there’s a reason for that. There’s an Estonian dance team. They have no shot," she laughed, "but the female of the team is a girl I’ve been friends with for years."
"Inga Taalsen," Sophia smiled. "We’ve met her-she’s a sweetie."
"They’re great, she and her partner. Like you said, they have no chance-top 15 would be a coup-but they love to skate," Warren said.
"I’m gonna love telling her that the Olympic Gold Medallists came to watch me luge."
"Don’t count those chickens, we haven’t won anything yet," Warren warned.
"She says you’re a shoo-in," Marta teased. "Anyhow, got to go slide. Thanks for coming!"
Sophia looked at Warren for a minute, bemused. "You flirt with every girl in the world, don’t you?"
"I wasn’t flirting!"
"Oh, sure you weren’t," she teased.
"I was not. Her boyfriend’s a biathlete. They shoot guns while on skis-do I look stupid to you?"
Sophia cracked up.
Marta ended up moving up to second over the last two runs, winning the silver medal.
The next day, Thursday, Sophia and Warren watched some more skiing, hung around the village, and then headed to the rink for the men’s long program.
Kristin was still nervous. "I think I’m more nervous, because he’s definitely got a shot," she said.
The rest of the skaters skated first. Tom was the second-to-last to skate, and Bladanikov the last. So, they just watched and chatted through the rest of the skaters.
Then Tom took the ice. Skating the program that Warren and Sophia had choreographed for him, he was wonderful. He hit every jump cleanly and sold the program wonderfully.
Then came Bladanikov. His first jumping pass was the same combination, quadruple toe-triple toe, that he had put a hand down in the short program. He didn’t put a hand down this time-but he did, ever so slightly, two-foot the landing. The rest of the program was clean as a whistle.