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I swear, keeping my hands and mouth and dick off this woman is truly impossible.
I nuzzle a path down her body until I’m lying between her legs, my cock pressed against the mattress. I kiss the smooth skin of her inner thighs, leaving a trail of kisses on my way to my destination. I slide one finger inside her to test how ready she is. She whimpers in response.
“As a young lad,” I narrate, “I met a hockey player with the tightest pussy. She would make the hottest noises when I fingered her. And now… let me take you there.”
Gigi looks delighted. “Admit it. You love Horizons.”
“Nah. I love this.”
I push my finger in deep, which causes her ass to rock off the bed, sending her core directly into my face.
I waste no time capturing her clit between my lips, licking gently. My efforts are rewarded with another whimper, followed by soft, anxious moans when I start licking her in earnest. I make her come, and she barely gives herself time to recover before she grabs at my shoulders and yanks me up so I’m on top of her. Nobody’s even touched my dick and it’s ready to burst. I’m painfully hard.
“I don’t have any condoms,” I mumble, kissing her neck. “We used them up yesterday.” She’s been over a couple of times this week already. “Didn’t get a chance to restock.”
“Oooh, I bet someone is dying for my value pack now,” she teases, beaming up at me.
“Bring them over next time,” I agree, because I genuinely never expect how many times I end up inside her when we’re in the same room together.
“Or…” She bites her lip.
I wait for her to go on.
“After our sexual health talk in the sauna, maybe we can go without.”
My dick wholly approves, judging by the pre-come leaking out of it.
We spend the next hour in bed. I hold off on finishing because I’m in the mood to torture myself a little. So I fuck her nice and slow, making her come a second time before I finally reward myself. Gigi is on her back, her tits bearing a rosy flush as she gasps in pleasure. She looks so sexy that when I feel the pleasure build, I pull out and stroke myself instead, getting off to the sight of her perfect tits and gorgeous face.
Afterward, we lie there, me in my boxers, her buck naked, and discuss tonight’s respective games.
“Those were some crazy moves you did in the third,” I tell her. “Someone posted a couple clips online. Shane and I were watching them on the bus ride home.”
“Hmmm. But were they Olympic moves?” I love the way her voice sounds after sex. Drowsy. Lazy like molasses.
“You and your lofty goals.”
“Actually, my original goal—at least when I was a kid—was to win the Stanley Cup.”
I chuckle.
“I mean, I already had the nickname. Did I tell you my whole family calls me Stan? God, it’s obnoxious.”
“You got the nickname because you wanted to win the Cup?”
“No, I got it because I thought Stanley Cup was a person until I was six. I’ve been Stan ever since. But it wasn’t until I was around eight that I realized I could never actually win it.”
She snuggles closer. I run hot and she runs cold, so it’s perfect. Her body cools me down and I heat hers up. I’m not a spiritual man, but in my sex-loosened brain, I suddenly wonder if somewhere, somehow, maybe someone designed us to fit this well together.
“Boston won the Cup that year, and I was so happy. I told Dad how excited I was to get older and win it myself. And that’s when he broke the news that as a girl, that wasn’t really an option.” Gigi laughs quietly. “Man, I just started bawling. There’s a trail behind our house, and I ran off crying my eyes out. I wanted to be left alone, but I was a kid and obviously my parents weren’t going to allow it. Dad found me and sat me down on a log, wiped away my tears, and promised I’d have something even better than a Stanley Cup win: I was going to be the best female hockey player ever to walk the earth.”
I smile at the story.
She snorts. “Then he’s like, oh, and do I want to see the Cup? Turned out it was in our living room because every member of the team has the chance to take it home, and as the most valuable player that season, Dad had first dibs.”
“Goddamn, your life is incredible.”
“Anyway, having that aspiration taken away from me made me focus on the opportunities that were available. What was the highest mountain I could climb, if it wasn’t the Stanley Cup? And I decided it was Olympic gold.” She shrugs. “So that’s the most important thing now.”
