Page 74 of Ice Dance Hockey

“Call me,” Rhett says anyway. It’s going to be real hard for him to play hockey this year without his eyeballs.

“But I don’t have your number.”

“Oh? Shame. Bye, Scott.”

Scott huffs and the locker room door swinging punctuates his exit.

“Elkingtooo—oooh, fuck.”

He covers my cock with hot wetness, and the guy known as Logan is gone, becoming a live wire of sex instead. My moans are desperate whines and, good God, he knows how to use that tongue. It swivels around the head and then down the shaft. I buck my hips, trying to get deeper.

“This why you wanted my attention?”

“No,” I snap, but regret it instantly. I’m not telling him the real reason I provoked him. Fuck, he can’t find that out. I must be the world’s biggest fool, falling for a man who can never love me because his heart belongs to someone else.

He lavishes my dick some more and my world narrows to that silky tongue, forgetting everything else. My whimpers get louder.

“Shhh, quietly, darling dear. We don’t want this one on the Gram.”

No. Really, not. But I might combust.

Then, his finger circles my entrance. I don’t think he’ll go inside, pretty sure, but just the thought that he could sends me over the edge. It feels so fucking dirty to a newbie like me. I haven’t even put my own fingers up there.

My balls crawl up inside me as I explode into his mouth. He swallows all of it in two gulps like it’s a damn protein shake.

He sits back on his calves, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His warm hand covers my ice-cold bare foot. “What was your plan, exactly?”

“Thought I could run faster without skates on.”

He laughs and then laughs some more. Yes, it’s at me, but in a fond way. “You have worn skates before, yeah?”

Getting skates off is as hard as getting them on. It wasn’t my brightest idea.

I laugh with him and work on tucking my nicely relieved man parts into my pants. “It made sense at the time.”

“C’mon,” he says, getting me to stand on the bench. “Your chariot awaits.”

“You are not carrying me through the hallways, Rhett.”

“I am. These floors could be teeming with staph.”

“Wait!” He tilts his head. “I want to see it.”

My eyes point directly to his crotch and a cunning smile spreads onto his lips. “My dick?”

I nod.

“Want the playing field to remain even?” he asks, shoving a hand down his pants and stroking what’s underneath. I bite my lip in answer because I have an idea of what he’s got from touching it on the first date.

He hisses, licking his lips, tugging the head above the elastic waistband of his track pants to tease me. He’s not just leaking, a whole string of precum stretches from the tip as he plays with himself. My heart rams against my ribcage, and pounds like a herd of elephants in my ears. He’s fucking sexy like that.

Then he pulls out a cock that could make even the most well-hung porn star jealous. It’s got to be a good nine inches long, and it’s thick. Uncut. It’s got twin lightning bolt veins. I don’t know how anatomy works, but I’m sure that’s not supposed to be possible. His sack is the true meaning of the word sack. It’s wide and heavy and all of Santa’s toys could fit in here. It must hang when he’s standing naked.

I remember what he said about horses and cats. My ass clenches, but I want it all the same. He snaps the waistband, tucking his monstrous dick away.

“Open,” he says, lifting the fingers soaked with his precum to my lips.

I’m an obedient little scorpion today, and I let him push his finger past my lips. There’s a salty explosion over my tongue and I suck instinctively, wanting to take a piece of him with me. Quickly his fingers are replaced with his lips, and we inhale each other’s breath with the tender press of lips.

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