He pulls me off of him. Drops me to the floor in front of him. His gloved hands briefly squeeze my tits then moves up to cup my jaw.
I can’t read his eyes in the shadow from the helmet as he says, “Coaches are supposed to take care of their hockey players, so I need you to get my dick nice and hard for you.”
You’d think his cock would look small against all the thick padding, but it’s not. It’s fucking huge. I can barely take it in my mouth.
One glove grabs the back of my head, forcing me to him, so I take the whole length down my throat. My eyes sting as he makes me take all of it. He’s powerful, forceful, but he never loses control—just glides that thick cock into my mouth as I pant through my nose around the length, sets it there for a split second, then slides it out.
I grab his powerful legs as he fucks my face.
“I told you you’re a good coach, Candy Cane, taking care of your players.”
My nails scrabble against the thin fabric of the burgundy pants over the thick padding. But it’s not all padding. I’m wet again, pussy throbbing as I think about those huge thighs, slabs of granite ramming this thick cock in my pussy.
He pulls out of my mouth with a wet noise. “Damn, you’d look good with my cum all over your face and tits.”
His mouth twitches into a smirk. Then he grabs the back of my neck and slams me over the desk, sending my little cup of paper clips all over the floor.
He runs rough gloves down the expanse of my body. I arch my hips into his hands.
His tongue licks a stripe along my dripping-wet pussy. Then up to my ass.
“You only get to come in my ass if you score a hat trick,” I manage, barely keeping the upper hand.
Fletcher hisses. His gloved hand comes down hard on my bare ass, making me squeal.
“Fine. I’ll destroy your pussy.” He cups my jaw, pulling my head back so I arch against his cock, rock-hard against my swollen pussy. His hands in the huge gloves are rough. The gloved fingers push in my mouth. I taste the leather and sweat.
His glove comes off, and he stuffs it in my mouth. “I don’t want an audience while I fuck you,” he whispers in my ear as I hear a condom packet rip.
He doesn’t give me a minute to adjust to the fact that I’m about to do it—I’m about to let one of my players turn me into a puck bunny.
But he’s forcing my legs apart. I feel a slight cool breeze on my pussy, then he rams that huge, thick length in me while I curse around the glove in my mouth, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on the laminate desktop.
“Take it, Ellie, take it. That’s my little cum slut. Damn, I want to fill you up. Take my cock.” The filthy language flows from his mouth as he drags me backward onto his cock, making me take every thick inch of him until he’s seated deep inside of me.
“You like that, don’t you?” He shifts my hips up and snaps his hips, somehow seating his cock even deeper in my cunt. “Your cunt is so fucking tight on me. I think this is the nicest pussy I ever fucked. You feel even better than your mouth.”
He does that little microthrust again, rolling his hips so that I feel that thick cock deep inside me. He leans over me, forcing my back to arch up with his cock so he can run his hand, warm and rough, over my tits, squeezing them, rubbing my raw nipples as I whimper, my legs split so he can wedge his huge body, bigger in the padding, between my legs.
“You take a cock like a winner, Candy Cane.” He slides out then slams into me again. “Fuck.” He lets out a low growl. Thenhe’s bucking against me, burying that huge cock in me over and over again. The pace is brutal.
“You haven’t been fucked until you’ve been fucked by a pro athlete.”
And he’s right. On the ice, Fletcher’s all raw power, brutal grace. He fucks like he plays—raw power.
“I love fucking after a win. I wanted to fuck you after that Orcas win.” He says it like we’re just having normal pillow talk, like he’s not pounding in me like he’s defending against the boards, jackhammering into me with blindingly powerful, inhumanly quick thrusts, destroying my pussy in the best way as I moan and whine and beg wordlessly against the glove, which muffles the porn sounds I make as he takes me until I’m shuddering on his cock.
He gives two more powerful thrusts, then I feel him explode in the condom as he rolls his hips into me, using my throbbing pussy to wring out the cum.
I spit the glove out as I collapse on the table. He turns me over, and I just lie there in a puddle on the desk, my tits out, the red lace of the teddy in sweaty tatters.
He runs his hands all over my perspiring, tremoring skin. Like I’m better than any hockey trophy he’s ever won.
He hooks one of my legs around his neck. His helmet is cool on the inside of my thighs as he licks me with long, slow, powerful strokes from his tongue. His fingers, gloveless, slide into my throbbing pussy, stroking in me not as deeply as his cock but still enough that he’s wringing another orgasm out of me before I can catch my breath from the last one.
Then he’s between my thighs again, his cock pressed against my raw pussy as he slowly grinds against me. Inexplicably, I feel him grow hard against me.
“I can’t,” I gasp.
