23. A Post-Victory Celebration #2
“Only when it comes to you. Nobody else deserves to know your body the way I do. How responsive it is when I do…this.”
Without warning, he latches his mouth around my nipple, hollowing his cheeks and sucking, and the force of a two-hundred-something-pound hockey player knocks me backwards, my arm shooting out behind me on the bench to keep me upright.
I mewl in the back of my throat, pushing out my chest to him, goading him to introduce another hand to the mix and massage my sweat-dotted breast. He suckles like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, breaking up the predictability of his laves with a quick succession of tongue flicks that have my back convulsing.
It’s my turn to thread my hand through his shaggy mullet, pulling enough to unbalance his mouth as he lists to the side and trails a glistening stripe of spit over the curve of my boob. My underwear is soaked, my resolve is battened down, and my thirst is nowhere near slaked.
When he finally gives my reddening tit a respite, I take the lull as an opportunity to undress him. His undershirt is the first to go, and he takes initiative to wiggle out of his hockey pants, letting every piece of clothing pool on the cold, hard ground.
He’s truly a spectacle to behold: hairy chest, soft belly, a full forest of hair rimming the root of his imposing, hanging cock.
But something stops me in my tracks—something I should’ve expected given the prior violence of the game tonight.
A large, subcutaneous bruise (one that spans the entire side of his torso) assaults my vision, no doubt the result of the many board collisions his body suffered during two hours of NHL-level playing.
It’s a nasty shade of black with speckles of purple feathering out around the target zone.
I reach out to lightly graze it before thinking better.
Sympathy claws up my esophagus. “Oh my God. Is it always this bad?”
Sutton’s eyes flick down as if he hadn’t realized what I was talking about, and then he chuckles. CHUCKLES! Like his body isn’t actively decaying.
“It looks worse than it is,” he jests.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m okay, Lake. I promise. I’m not in pain, but I will be if you don’t let me sink between your thighs in the next minute. I need R&R. I need you. I’ll beg on my knees if I have to. Don’t underestimate me.”
Oh, I know he would. And I can guarantee that his knees are probably in just as bad shape as the rest of his body.
“Strenuous activity isn’t advised after purposefully concussing yourself,” I admonish.
“I was wearing a helmet, and I’m not concussed. In fact, I’ve never been more clearheaded than I am right now,” he volleys, so beautifully oafish with his lopsided smile and those big irises that are rimmed in rings of chestnut brown.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Glad to know my flirting has paid off. I’ve spent months trying to get your attention.”
I don’t waste any time inching my jeans off with my feet—along with my tarnished underwear—matching him in his nudity so the stakes of getting arrested for indecent exposure are even higher than they were before.
“I need your cock, Sutton. I need you to pound into me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.
I need you to fill me with so much cum that it leaks down my thighs.
Want you to have your way with me, okay?
No boundaries. No hesitations. Let me see the real you—the one who takes his fair share without apology. ”
I walk my fingers up the length of his erect dick, and I bite back a smile when it twitches under my touch, even oozing a globule of pre-cum that bends around the crown.
“Turn around. Hands against the locker,” he instructs, too impatient to let me meander over on my own accord as he flips me around with little effort, navigating me by the width of my hips and pulling my ass into his crotch.
My hands slam against the wood without pretense, but the pain is worth the little noise of approval that emits from behind me.
I can’t see what Sutton is doing unless I look over my shoulder.
I can, however, feel him lever my legs apart so he has adequate room to feed his cock into my dripping cunt.
I brace for the excruciating fullness of him.
“Part your knees, Lake. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. Let me see the way you squeeze my fat cock. Let me feel you drench me in cum with each body-rocking thrust. Want everyone who’s left in this fucking arena to hear how well you take me,” he rumbles in my ear, slapping me on the ass.
I don’t want to kill the mood, but concern sears through me without permission. “We—what about a condom?”
A pause. Sutton’s words are rich with embarrassment. “Shit, I—I don’t have one on me. I didn’t even know this was going to happen tonight. I wasn’t thinking. We don’t have to do this right now. I can wait, we can—”
“I don’t care about that. I’m clean. I get checked regularly.”
“I haven’t been with anyone in years,” he says, taking his finger and dragging it down the curve of my spine. “The world wanted me to wait for you, and it was the best non-decision I ever made.”
He waited for me without even knowing if I was really out there.
I’ve never believed in soulmates or love at first sight.
They’re lies society tells you to reduce the rise of child-free women.
They’re lies that directly fund overconsumption on idiotic holidays and unofficial anniversaries.
But now, knowing that my heart has a forever home with him, all my preconceived notions dissolve with each longing look and unfeigned sentiment he throws my way.
I’m not worried about getting pregnant. I mean, I’m already on birth control. Plus, a condom isn’t enough for me. I need to feel Sutton raw—every ridge and vein gliding against the nerves of my inner walls.
“Don’t make me wait any longer,” I plead, relinquishing the tension in the lower half of my body as my legs begin to wobble.
Sutton fulfills my request without a playful barb. I can scent the desperation wafting off him, and I can certainly feel it when he plunges the head of his cock into my wet pussy, barely getting an inch in before I clam up and grit my teeth through the invoiceable agony.
“Jesus…Christ.” There’s a ring of fire wrapped around the base of him, and despite having enough lubrication to aid with the penetration, it doesn’t negate the thickness I have to accommodate.
Freezing, he doesn’t move, nor does he slip out of me. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
I quickly glance over my shoulder. “You’re apologizing because your cock is too big?”
“Yes? No?”
“I just need some more lubrication. It’s fine. I’m fine. I—fuck, I knew you were packing some serious heat down there, but I didn’t think it would hurt this badly. There’s no way that thing is fitting inside me.”
“Trust me, Trouble, you’re the only person I was ever made for.”
I hear a mouthful of spit splat against his palm, and he slithers his arm between the cleft of my thighs, rubbing moisture over the areas of my clit unimpeded by his length. The gesture is reverent, slow, entirely too intimate for the fuck fest that’s about to occur in t-minus two seconds.
I trust Sutton. He knows my body. He knows what I like. The only way I’ll alleviate the pain is if I welcome it with open arms.
So, releasing the tension in my bunched-up muscles, I allow him to rut deeper into the unforgiving clutch of my pussy, each inch swallowed up by my slick folds.
Blood roars in my ears as pressure pushes down on my lower abdomen where he fills me out.
I’m so lightheaded that I’m not sure I’ll even last three minutes.
He doesn’t fully sheathe himself as he begins rocking his hips against my ass, withdrawing his hungry cock before pummeling it against my soft walls.
Legs quaking, my heart is racing against an unknown timer, and a delusional part of me fears that he can hear every strained beat cluing him into my newfound impuissance.
I take inventory of the rough, aggressive strokes he delivers amidst the harried storm—how his hands cradle my hips with a flare of possessiveness.
I grow used to the intrusion and bear back down on him to maximize pleasure’s outreach, meeting him each time with a slam of fat on bone only backdropped by a string of unbroken moans.
“There she is. There’s my impatient girl. Choke this big cock, milk everything out of me and take what’s rightfully yours. I fucking love the way your ass bounces while I fuck you from behind.”
“It feels so good, Sutton,” I whimper, the sharp, erratic pumps of his dick causing my tits to recoil from the momentum, my hands pawing helplessly at the wooden surface of my makeshift handhold.