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But things have changed. I don’t feel like playing the usual this time.
So I don’t. I keep to myself all the way to the hotel. There are a few hours of downtime before warmup skate that I use to hole myself up in my room. One of the perks to being the starting center is that I don’t have to bunk with anyone.
I plop onto my bed and whip out my phone. It’s been on airplane mode since lift off. When I take it off, a sudden influx of messages hit my inbox.
Two from Paula, confirming the itinerary.
One from Grams.
And then five from Olivia.
Panic jumps in my chest. Did something happen with Violet? I open her messages with my heart in my throat.
But the blood flow in my body quickly changes direction.
The string of messages are five images, each with Olivia progressively getting less and less clothed. I’ve never seen the burgundy panty and bra set she undresses into, but the way it pushes up her breasts perfectly round and hugs her plush curves has my dick hard.
Then a video comes in.
I hit play.
Olivia is spread out on my bed, completely naked except for those red panties. The camera pans down her body, and I realize that those panties don’t have a crotch in them. Her pretty pussy lips peek through. When she spreads her thighs, I can see she’s already glistening wet.
I want to bury my face between her thighs.
Her fingers slip down, spreading her pussy lips, putting all of her on display. The pink of her looks like a damn dessert. I’m jealous when she sinks her fingers into herself.
That needs to be me.
My fingers.
My tongue.
My cock, pushing into her, parting her, bringing her to those shuddering, gasping orgasms I dream of.
Her moans echo in the video, but right before she reaches her climax, it stops.
Her next message reads, You’ll get more when you come home, winner. Then a winky face that makes me audibly groan.
Oh, this cheeky little princess.
I text her back. You’re gonna pay for that.
Unfortunately for me, the only one paying right now is me. Olivia’s got me rock solid and given she’s hundreds of miles away, she won’t be able to satisfy my need for her.
When all else fails, the only person you can rely on to give you what you need is yourself.
I get my cock out of my pants, not bothering to completely strip down. I have neither the time nor the patience for that shit. Instead, I lick the palm of my hand. In a pinch, that’s good enough. I can care about shit like lube and self-respect when it’s relevant again.
I swipe back to the beginning of Olivia’s video and hit play. I drink in every detail like a hungry fiend, ravenous to have a taste of her again. I’ve committed the perfect floral scent of her body to memory, so it’s easy to envision it now as I stroke myself, wishing it was her I was buried in and not the desperate, inadequate palm of my hand.
She’d squirm, tighten around me with every press of my cock into her body. My fingers grip harder.
“Fuuuck.”
When I get my hands on her again, she’s not going to know what to do with herself.
I don’t take long, and I don’t have the fucks to give to be embarrassed about how fast the finish comes, either. Not when I’m alone and I have a woman like Olivia driving me absolutely wild with her—well, her everything.
