The Wet Handoff (Audio Script)

Stories

The floodlights are already on when I enter the stadium. The track is still warm, and my spikes click softly against the concrete floor.

It’s that moment between day and night when the world outside seems to stand still. Meanwhile, I get to devote as much time as I like to my passion.

What I love about running is that everything else seems to fade away. No more worries, no more ringing phones, no more senseless chatter. The only thing left is the rhythm of my steps. And hers.

“Hey!”

She’s already here.

Of course she is. For years we’ve been coming here too early, leaving too late. Same discipline, same honesty. And always competing against each other.

When she spots me, she puts her hands on her hips and lifts her chin.

She’s my toughest rival. No one’s beaten me as much as she has. No one else has pushed me so hard to perform better.

“Ready for one last workout?”

“You mean ready to get crushed by me again?”

“Dream on.”

“Oh man, I thought you were joking right until the end.”

“I wish. I’m kinda looking forward to the new start, though. New job, new neighbourhood-”

“New club.”

“Awful, isn’t it... It feels a bit like cheating.”

“Then let’s make sure today’s training session is a highlight you won’t forget anytime soon. Then you might just miss us a little.”

2. INTRODUCE THE LOVER AND THE FANTASY Show that you’re drawn to the lover, ignite your own desire, and find joy in the desire itself. Teasingly and playfully.

their breathing steady.

We're warming up. Separately. Each in her own lane.

I can hear her breathing right next to me. Steady. Controlled.

I force myself to focus on my own footsteps. Not on her back, not on the rhythm of her arms… and not on her chest that is rising and falling steadily beneath her tight sport top.

I remember what she looks like underneath. The fleeting glimpses from the shower after competitions. Blurry memories, because there was always someone else there. Always noise, laughter, a sense of urgency. Stop.

Where is my mind drifting off to? I need to focus. I need to keep my hips relaxed, otherwise it’ll mess with my time. We’re taking turns timing one another. She’s starting with mine first.

“You started too early.”

“That was intentional.”

“Sure it was.”

She flashes me a brief and dangerously familiar look. Something tightens inside me at the thought that I’ll soon be working out without her. I can hardly believe it myself, but I’m going to miss her little jibes.

“Was that stiffness in your upper back also intentional? And your legs are too loose. Give it more knee action.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s your turn. Go! Get to the starting block.”

Next up it’s her turn to run while I time her. She swings her arms, leans forward briefly, and places her hands on her knees. Inhale. Exhale. Then she straightens up. I know that moment. The second before she blocks everything else out.

My gaze drifts across her upper body again. I’m suddenly aware of her perky little breasts, peeking out from under her tight-fitting shirt. She’s always had a gorgeous body.

Shit… I can’t let myself get distracted. I need to concentrate.

Unfortunately, the finish line comes faster than expected. She accelerates again, throws herself forward, stops running, and then stops a few steps further on, hands on her hips.

“You stopped too late.”

“No… uh…”

“Why are you so distracted today?”

“Uh… I don’t know. Just go again, and then we’ll practice the relay handoff, okay?”

“Got it.”

We're training longer and harder than usual. Luckily, I do better in the next few sets and find my rhythm again, but she just can’t resist teasing me. She’s irritating me, yet she’s exactly the spark I need.

Eventually, we gather our things without speaking. Like a silent understanding. But the walk to the cabin feels tenser than usual. Neither of us says a single word. The air is heavy with sweat, rubber… and goodbyes.

3. BUILD UP THE ANTICIPATION Build up the excitement and be flirty, playful, charming and mischievous; Not too serious or trying too hard to be ‘sexy’.

It’s not often that we’re alone in the shower. Even with so many free showers, we choose to stand under the ones right next to each other.

I try to avoid looking at her upper body. Unfortunately, my gaze is drawn to the curve of her ass; the way the water flows over it, and how her skin glows softly in the light of the neon tubes.

Little drops gather, form lines and disappear at the base of her hips.

“That wasn’t exactly a stellar performance today. To be honest … you’re losing your touch.”

“Look who’s talking. Who dropped the ball today?”

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“Hey Girl, I just wanted to give you some honest feedback. No one else is gonna tell you.”

“Or do you just want to feel good before you leave?”

The room suddenly feels smaller. I notice my breathing getting quicker, how my chest heaves as my frustration rises.. I hold her gaze, even though everything in me fights against it. The intensity of this feeling surprises me. Raw, hot, and a little confusing.

Is it because she’s criticising me, or because she’s going? Does her leaving affect me more than I’d care to admit?

Not dwelling on it any further, I follow my impulse and move towards her. Just a half step, but decisive.

To an outsider, it might look as though we were about to have a fight, but she opens her mouth and licks her upper lip lustfully.

Then she turns around. Now we’re facing each other. Too close for a normal conversation. Too close, and too naked.

“You’re tense.”

“Surprise.”

She steps closer to me, through the steam, the scent of soap and skin drifting over me.

My heart rate shoots up, just like before a competition. What’s happening here? I sense a strange impatience in me, that I can’t quite understand.

She takes her time letting her eyes roam over me, her eyes slow and assessing. Not judging, just measuring.

“Do you know what I just realised?”

“That my workout plan shows better results than yours?”

“I think the steam is starting to cloud your senses. No, that’s not it.”

“What then?”

“That you’re not soaped-up enough. Should I take care of that?”

“You think you can do that better than me?”

“Oh absolutely. Just like with everything else. I’ll show you, if you want.”

I can’t hide my surprise. She lifts her hand and holds it in the air for a moment, as if giving me time to stop her. As if this were a smooth handover, where both of us need to know whether we’re ready. Instead of answering, I pass her the shower gel.

4. EXPLORE THE ENCOUNTER Savour the first moments of physical intimacy; incorporate the sound of breathing into the scene.

Her caresses are careful, yet firm, without being demanding. Almost professional, and that’s why it feels so intense.

She spreads the soap over my shoulders, down my neck and across my upper back. The steam makes everything soft, but her closeness stays intense and clear.

“You’re so tense. Or maybe uptight is the right word?”

“After the workout.”

“I see.”

She massages me. Her hands glide with steady pressure over my skin, loosening muscles and testing the boundaries between us.

She strokes along my shoulders, down to my chest. My chest grow to hard peaks under her caress. She notices this, raises her eyebrows and bites her lower lip.

I use the moment, step forward and press her gently but firmly backward, until her back touches the cold tiles.

She sucks in a sharp breath, not in protest, but in surprise. My hands come to rest at her sides, touching her warm, wet skin.

I notice how she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she comes nearer, closing the distance between us until her hips lean against mine.

“That’s pretty forward of you.”

“You started it…”

“Well, no point stopping now.”

She grabs my shoulders decisively, turning me so that my ass cheeks are pressed against the tiles.

She leans towards me, so close, as if we were lying on top of each other. Skin on skin, and still it’s not close enough for me. She seems to feel the same way.

The water rushes over us, connecting, blurring, as she kisses me passionately and deeply. My tongue seeks its way into her mouth.

I feel the closeness of her forehead against mine… her tension. That old power struggle between us that never completely disappeared, is shifting.

Ohh. Her hands find their way to my back, firmer now, more determined. No rush. No plan. Just this mutual exploration, like testing how far this intimacy can go before it tips.

Then, suddenly, she pauses and kneels down in front of me. On her way, she kisses the space between my breasts, my stomach, my navel, and the curve of my hips.

Mmm… she encloses my hips firmly with both hands and sinks her lips onto my pussy.

5. STIMULATION Dirtytalk.

“Oh…Oh God…. yeah, right there…”

“D’you think I didn’t see how you were looking at me on the pitch today?”

“I couldn’t help it. You get me horny.”

“You too. If you only knew how good you taste…”

6. BUILDING UP TO THE CLIMAX Just before climax.

I could come in a matter of seconds. She knows exactly what she’s doing with that tongue.

First she teases around my clit with the tip, then she licks me with the entire flat of her tongue, adding a little pressure.

I bury my hands in her hair, while her hands stroke along my thighs. Finally her tongue finds its way between the lips of my vulva.

She knows she’s good at what she’s doing, and she knows her confidence turns me on even more.

“Just like that… right there…”

How can she, of all people, drive me this crazy? My long-time rival knows exactly what I need, and how I need it.

I try to push aside my jumbled thoughts about what this is all about, and how it came to this; and just let myself be swept away by this deeply sensual feeling, drawing me in further, like a wave.

“You make me so horny…”

“I’m so hungry for you.”

Her breath. Exactly there. Time and time again. Her fingers dig into my ass cheeks, while she exerts even more pressure with her tongue.

I lose myself, but it feels safe. My body has always known better than my head.

7. climax Above all, heavy breathing; moans of pleasure; a throaty groan just before climax; no growling or screaming.

“Oh… Oh… Oh God…”

“Oh… Oh… fuck, that’s… OHH!”

5. STIMULATION II Dirtytalk.

I can still feel the echo pulsing through my body… like a lingering shiver, making me feel weak, yet wide awake at the same time. My breathing is too rapid, my skin too sensitive. Fuck.

VO1 watches VO2 lurking) She leans back against the tiles and looks up at me. Not greedy. Not demanding. Assessing. Like she’s trying to figure out from my body language, what she’s just done to me.

Her chest rises and falls slowly and controlled – like this was all pre-planned. Like it was all part of some strategy of hers.

I hate that look. That quiet knowing.

“You doing okay?”

Her wet hair clings to her breasts, the steam settling like a veil over her skin.

Her lips are slightly parted. No obvious grin. No cheap triumph. Worse. Pure satisfaction. Like she’s just confirmed something to herself.

And what unsettles me even more: It feels like a defeat. It feels logical. Right. So completely…

Absurd. I mean, I can’t even stand her. Her teasing, the constant comparisons... It drives me insane! But then why does her breath on my skin feel like… coming home?

I steady my pulse and fix her with a glare.