I love the Olympics. Why? Is it for the feeling of national pride that comes with the games? Is it the warm feeling of us all being one world as everyone comes together for a few short weeks? Is it the tears that NBC seems determined to drag out of every saturated segment?
Hell, no. It’s guys in hot pants.
Seriously, how often do large groups of male hotties get together and show off their junk? Oh, sure they’re “competing” in like stuff that’s timed and judged, but the real competition is who looks best in those ridiculously tight pants. The male swimmers do that thing where they twist their bodies all around on the starting block. I’m sure they would tell you they’re warming up, but come on. They’re all showing off just how well they fit into those low riders. Some of those men have a third arm and I’m pretty sure it aids in their power. And thank you, Michael Phelps. You’ve given me years and years of drooling joy. I don’t know what your face looks like. I couldn’t pick you out of a crowd if you were dressed, but I would know the notches on your well-muscled hips anywhere.
And you divers. I love the speedos. I love the way they slip when you hit the water at astounding speeds. I love the fact that you don’t notice and the camera sometimes picks up just a hint of lovingly sculpted butt cleavage.
I also adore the way we women come together to make these very important proceedings into something deeply perverted. Just last night I joined in an intellectual conversation with friends on Facebook as to how they could turn every single gymnastics apparatus into a sex toy. Tina and Luna, I salute you. You both deserve a gold medal in Dirty Minds. Truly it is the US and Canada working together in the Olympic spirit.
I leave you with a conversation between the hubby and I as we watched last night’s telecast of swimming, diving and gymnastics.
Sophie: I think he should win.
Mr. Blissful: Uhm, honey, he came in fifth.
Sophie: His junk is better than the others. I don’t see what timing has to do with it.
Mr. Blissful (huffing and frowning): Well, if you’re going to do that, I’m just going to look at the female athlete’s boobs.
Sophie (sighing because she’s actually seen the female athletes): Good luck with that, baby.
Good luck to all the athletes. And to Tina and Luna – I can’t wait to see what you come up with for Decathlon.
Sophie Oak writes erotic romance for Siren Publishing. Her latest, Chasing Bliss comes out August 10th and is available for pre-order today.