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We explained the first week back after spring break that we would have to still go out so no one suspects shit. She didn’t care at all, which was shocking; most chicks would be properly pissed. Not Banksy, though. Not a jealous bone in her body, apparently. We don’t fuck around on her, so there isn’t a need to be jealous.
She hasn’t mentioned our excessive drug use at these parties. It’s not like she sees it, but she knows about it. We don’t do it around her, it’s not her scene. This time, we shocked her. Us giving a shit is apparently very shocking. I mean, I suppose it is, but who we were in December, is not who we are now. Completely different circumstances that we will never live down. And we can’t really blame her, can we?
It’s late on a Tuesday night, and there’s a few of us left in the gym. The playoffs are coming, then hopefully the championshipgame, so Landon, Lynx, Smiley, and I are getting extra workouts in. This shit is about to get intense, the best of the best battling it out for the title of the greatest hockey team in our conference. This is our last chance to claim it, and wewillfucking claim it. There were more guys here earlier, but they started trickling out an hour ago. I called it, and made it mandatory for the team. We need to be fucking prepared.
Landon is first to get up from his weight equipment, and, wiping his face with his white hand towel. “Heading out.”
I look at Raiden and Lynx, they nod, silently acknowledging what I just asked. I get up and follow him out, taking the long way to the locker room.
Landon walks ahead of me down the hall then stops at her open door, he looks at me and grins, then opens the door. I wait outside until he comes out, holding her hand in his. She looks tired. We need to fix that.
I step forward, startling her.
“Sorry, Banksy,” I chuckle and slap her ass as she moves ahead of me. She is in her signature black leggings with an oversized team tee.
“Where are you two taking me? I still have a bit of work to do.” She is suspicious. I like it. Landon continues to lead the way down the hall, before stopping at Coach’s office. His light is off, and the door is open.
Perfect.
Landon turns back to me and winks. It’s game time.
Keeping the lights off, he leads Banksy in. I follow and close the door behind me, shutting the blinds, then rubbing my hands together with excitement.
Time for Karma.
“We shouldn't be in here,” Banksy scolds.
“Banksy, punish us. We have been such bad, bad boys.” I tease, my excitement radiating off me as I skip around her.
“He made you cry. He made you feel uncomfortable, and it pissed us off. A lot. Now, it’s your turn to make him feel uncomfortable. He won’t know for sure, but he will feel it. He’ll smell it, and know that we fucked you, right here, on top of his desk. Because you are ours. He will never have you. Ever. And this will remind him of that every fucking day.”
Landon stands beside Coach’s desk, he taps the end while explaining our plan to Banksy. I wish I could see her face. She’s either mortified or loving every second of this. I bet it is the latter.
“What if someone…”
I cut her off, holding my hand up over her mouth. “What ifs don’t count. We don’t deal in what ifs.” She nods in acknowledgement. I whisper in her ear, “That’s my good little Banksy.”
She loves being praised, pride spreads across her face whenever we do. So we try to do it as often as possible, when we sneak into her place in the middle of the night or smuggle her to our place for a bit. Giving her small smiles or quick winks in the team meetings she attends.
“Keep your hand over her mouth while I devour her pussy,” Landon snarks at me. The sound of her pants being pulled down comes next, then a vibration from her attempted moan follows.
He eats her, the sounds of him sucking her clit fill the room. I can feel her body move into it, she’s using his face to grind on as he continues to eat her. I can hear her wet pussy, as he is fingering her now. Then the sounds stop.
“Desk. Sit on it, legs spread. Not a fucking sound leaves those lips or Hudson will punish you. It will be more than just a spanking. He will bring out the wand and not let you cum.” The threat leaves Landon’s lips effortlessly.
“Yeah, Banksy. I will edge the fuck out of you if I have to. Then cum all over your perfect pretty face without an ounce of guilt. Do you understand?”
Her voice is barely a whisper, but it is loud enough that I hear her say those two magical words, “I understand.”
“I’m on the desk, the side facing the door,” Banksy says, as she hops on the desk. Following that, I hear Landon’s pants hit the ground.
Using the light from my phone, I navigate my way to the other side of Coach’s desk and take a seat in his worn out chair. Turning the phone light off, I get comfortable, pulling my shorts down to expose my hard cock. Gripping it with my hand, I squeeze it hard so it feels just like Banksy's cunt. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back, listening to everything happening just in front of me.
A sharp slapping noise is followed by a muffled yelp from Banksy. Landon speaks in a harsh but barely there whisper, “Not a sound. Isn’t that what you said you understood? Do we need to stop?”
“No. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it. It won’t happen again.” She promises.
I can hear him slap her pussy and she lets out a small gasp, not expecting it. Then the assault on her pussy begins. She has to be dripping, the wet slaps between their bodies connecting is all that I can hear.
