A fantasy from the cyclocross world championship (or An Ode to Sanne Cant)
This fictional story in no way is meant to represent the actual Sanne Cant. Only my personal sexual fantasy. Congratulations on a wonderful win today!
The woman didn’t attract any attention when she came in. About 5'6", maybe 130 lbs, black sweatpants, gym shoes, and a tshirt with a raft of european looking names on it. Not classically beautiful or plastic like the trophy wives. She had an angular, hawkish, and ruddy look that I was drawn to immediately. It didn’t take a fitness expert to see that under those sweats and loose tshirt her body was thick and powerful. She only carried a large waterbottle and a large towel over her arm. Like the trophy wives, most of the other women who noticed her at all most likely thought she was just a newbie. The way she adjusted the spin bike however proved that theory wrong. I tried to be cool and not stare as I tried to confirm she was who I thought. She looked up and gave a half smile, obviously still annoyed and embarrassed from being told off. I returned it and went back to looking at my phone. I googled her…..
I didn’t have to wait for the results to load though. She put her towel on the floor. She slipped her sneakers off and lowered her sweats revealing cycling shorts. I tried not to stare and involuntarily looked away as I saw rainbow bands on them. They meant nothing to any of the shallow women here, but they confirmed her alpha female status.
My cunt clenched and moistened at this crazyness. SANNE fucking CANT! On a spin bike right next to me!
Before I could fully comprehend that she pulled her towel of the floor to reveal a set of the most beautiful blue shoes I had ever seen. They caught the eye of the trophy wife down the row and she gave a tiny sneer, no doubt thinking they were showy. Fantasies of polishing them with my tongue ran through my mind as she bent over to fasten them up. The 600 dollar carbon wonder shoes shone in the fluorescent light. I understood why she had kept them hidden as the trophies judged hard. These shoes were aggressive and chunky. Not the flimsy girly spinning shoes we were all wearing. These shoes were what real women wore. And the rainbow detail on the strap made it clear how much of a real woman she was.
I had no idea how to talk to her and by the time the class was ending still didnt have a clue. While I was dripping in sweat she was hardly glistening. But my wet cunt had provided plenty of distraction from the burning in my legs this whole time. As I struggled thinking of how to start a conversation she saved me. Her voice was husky in a feminine way that made my holes twitch. She had a thick accent which I of course knew was her native flemish. Her english wasn’t perfect but that only made it hotter. She made eye contact and asked a simple question. “Do you ride?“ I knew I was blushing as I responded that I only did spinning. I didn’t get better as I finally admitted I knew who she was. I went even redder and wetter when she eyed me up and mentioned she was vacationing here with her girlfriend. She was obviously clocking me and I passed with flying colors by blushing and biting my lip. I just stammered trying to prolong the conversation anyway possible. I wasn’t even conscious of how we got back to the locker room. Then were laughing at how we had chosen lockers next to each other.
The laughing stopped though when she stepped into me and grabbed me by the back of my neck. I was shaking as this goddess looked hard into my eyes and proceeded to kiss me hard and rough. I couldnt breath as she told me we were going to the showers. I was in a fog of arousal and submission as I saw her grab a bottle of lube from her bag. She frogmarched me through the locker room towards the showers. We hung up our towels and she maneuvered me into one of the private shower stalls. In our shorts and bras still, she slammed the curtain closed and turned around. We stripped completely now, and I could only gawk at her hard body. She turned the water on as her hand cupped and squeezed my soaked cunt. She asked if I was a slut and I could only nod my head as I moaned. She spun me around and kicked my legs open like I was being arrested. I bit my hand to hold back groans as she soaped down my body and used soapy fingers to penetrated my cunt then my asshole. She chuckled in a cruel way as I shook when she found my gspot through my anal walls. “Sluts like you get me so wet.“
But then as quickly as she got me on the edge she ruined me. Her fingers left my holes as her strong hand hooked my collarbone and spun me back towards her. “Clean me whore.“ I did as she ordered and rubbed her perfect body down with soapy hands. She was even harder and leaner than I imagined in my fantasies. Her legs were rock hard and her ass was tight as a drum. Her back was muscled and her arms were so strong. I whimpered like the pathetic slave slut I am as my cunt clenched while washing her. I didn’t need to be told what to do after she rinsed off. I was on my knees and servicing her perfect pussy before she had time to order me down. I leaked and dripped onto the wet tiles as my hands roamed her lean hips I looked up into her hard brown eyes as her dominant hands wrapped themselves in my wet, messy hair. I licked her pussy and rimmed her rose bud over and over. I stiffened my tongue to reach deep into her and drew it up to pleasure her engorged clit. After what felt like forever, with my knees and neck and tongue aching, she clenched my hair hard and pulled me deep inside her world champion pussy. I couldnt breath as I desperately serviced her, feeling her contractions and watching her neck cord up in ecstasy. When she finally relaxed her grip i gulped in the air and gently worked her folds while looking desperately upwards. "Was that ok”? I ask anxiously as she looks down on me like the inferior servant I am.
“More than ok whore” was her only response. “But now you need your turn. I don’t do licking but I do fuck slut assholes.” With that she pushed my head down to the floor so I was on my knees with my ass up. I whimpered as I heard the lube container get snapped open and squeezed. My already soaped and stretched hole took one, then two fingers easily as she found my gspot instantly again. I bit hard into my forearm as she roughly pounded it with precision. I was less than a minute before I was biting into my arm and riding the lighting of an anal orgasm. Her fingers worked me mercilessly as I continued to cramp, shake, and flail while my gspot electrocuted me with unbearable pleasure for what felt like hours. Finally I could only go limp and my spasming hole wore itself out. I lay with my cheek pressed to the tile as she shampooed her hair. She looked down and laughed as I collapsed with a wet slap. I groaned as my scalp exploded. My glazed over eyes could barely focus as she wrenched me up by my wet and tangled hair. Then I forgot the pain when she kissed me deep and hard, her tongue dominating mine. I moaned into her sweet mouth as she finally pulled away and let my head down.
My body recramped and I bit into my sore forearm as she slapped my ass hard.
“Come to Flanders and you can do that everyday slave whore.” She laughs in that hard, sexy way. She gathers her shower stuff. As she turns to go I turn my head to get one last look at my goddess and meet her eyes. “You can wear steel collar just like my slave bitch girlfriend." I whimper as my holes clench painfully as she delivers that line with a dominant and controlling wink. With out a care she rips the curtain back and steps out of the stall. I hear a gasp but can only shut my eyes and leak in shame. I’m a limp exhausted piece of slave meat as the hot water pours onto my back and I wonder if what just happened was real.
When my phone buzzes later that night though, there is absolutely no doubt. It’s a strange number. I open the message. I gasp. My holes clench and I feel wetness. I sink to my knees and I stare at the screen. It’s a one way ticket to Brussels. First class. For tomorrow morning. There’s one line of text….
"Bring nothing slave bitch. My enforcement matrons will handle legalities. Don’t panic when you get picked up at the airport. Your collar is being engraved right now. " Signed, Mistress Cant.
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