Pucked Up

She makes a gagging sound. “I think the memory is enough.” She slides it off and holds it out as she bounces off the bed.

I take in the bare expanse of her body as she skips to the bathroom. Sunny pretty much dances everywhere she goes. She’s light on her feet, and her long legs give her a gazelle-like quickness.

She’s in there for a few minutes. I hear the toilet flush and the sound of running water. The door to the bathroom opens, and she’s still magnificently naked. She crosses over to the vanity and starts braiding her hair, working from the right side to the left so it travels along her hairline at the base of her neck and over her shoulder.

I alternate between watching her reflection and appreciating the curves of her body. I’ve been with a lot of women. I’ve seen a lot of bodies. I’ve been with models and those waif types who look like they should probably score a few meals at an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Sunny, however, is my ideal, or she’s become it. Her long limbs are defined with strength, and there’s softness to her in the places there should be. She’s confident and comfortable in her own skin; it’s sexy.

“You coming back to bed so we can snuggle?” I hold my arms open.

She turns off the light in the bathroom and climbs up beside me. “For a big bad hockey player, you’re kinda a softie, you know that?”

“Don’t tell anyone. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

Sunny snorts as she curls into my side. She traces the line of my eyebrow. “I wish it was always this easy to be with you.”

I lift her chin so our noses touch. “I’mma work on trying to make that happen, ’kay? Just give me some time.”

She presses her lips to mine. “’Kay.”





CHAPTER EIGHT


UNFORESEEN THWARTS


It takes me a good thirty seconds to orient myself when I wake up. The bed is unfamiliar, but the smell of the sheets isn’t. It’s a combination of sex and Sunny. I glance to the right, where she should be; her pillow is empty. The clock on the nightstand tells me it’s way late already. But then, we were up until five in the morning getting busy. I stretch and yawn, debating whether or not I’ll fall asleep if I close my eyes again. My time with Sunny is limited. I only have today and tomorrow before I have to leave for the camp.

Even if I invite her up to visit, we won’t have much in the way of alone time. She’d have to stay in a cabin with other people. I’ll be in with the male counselors. Sex would be off the table. There’d be zero privacy, and humping on her in the forest, while fun, could prove problematic. There’s no coed business going on at camp since the junior counselors are usually a bunch of horny almost-adults.

When I went to hockey camp as a teenager, I always had the most insane hard-ons. They were a pain in the ass to get rid of, until I became a senior counselor. Then I got to break all the rules I made everyone else follow. Nature makes me wanna get my fuck on. I don’t know why. If I’d been put in a coed room, it would’ve turned into a damn orgy. Okay, probably not, but I would’ve dreamed about it becoming an orgy.

The sheets tent at my waist thanks to my reminiscing. It would be nice to have Sunny there with me, even if we can’t get naked. She’d get to see me doing something other than playing hockey and being an asshole on social media. I’d get to spend more time with her, in an environment where I know she’d have fun. The only real issue would come from not being able to get all up inside her the entire time. On second thought, having her there might be like torture.

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