Note: This is my entry into the 2013 Nude Day contest. Vote, if you like.
Spinning... Spinning faster and faster. My arms come into my chest as my extended right leg tucks tightly next to my left. I pull in even tighter as my arms stretch high over my head, extending my torso and flattening my breasts.
I hear my skates scratching a spiral pattern in the ice, spinning faster and even faster. My body forms a pencil-like line from the tips of my fingers, stretched high above my head, to my body, my thin leotard hugging my rib cage and breasts, to the tips of my toe picks, my ankles crossed tightly as I spin.
I think of nothing. I feel nothing except the pull inward of my arms and legs as I spin. It is my last of the morning, and I am determined to make it last.
As if controlled by a switch, I suddenly throw my arms out to the sides as my right leg flies out. My blades clink together loudly and the spin stops in its tracks. My right toe pick jabs the ice, and all motion halts.
I hold myself there in triumph for a moment, arms extended, frozen in time. Feeling begins to return to my body. I'm breathing fast and hard, and I can see my breath in the frigid air.
I become aware of my nipples, standing erect against the lycra-spandex of my leotard. I feel a throb between my legs, and I fight the urge to touch myself there. As my arms fall to my sides, I allow my gloved hands to travel over my breasts, lingering on my hard nipples. I feel like I have just had a long, delicious orgasm, and I want that feeling to last as long as possible.
The post-orgasmic bliss begins to fade, and my surroundings become apparent to me once again. The sun is beginning to reach the top of the snow-covered pine trees surrounding my private pond. It is freezing out, and my nose and cheeks feel very cold. The pink light of the sunrise reflects off the ice, highlighting the patterns scratched into its surface.
As I am about to head back to my bench on the shore, I get the sudden sensation that I am being watched. I whirl around and see a pair of does at the edge of the woods, looking at me cautiously.
I smile to myself and skate back to my bench on the shore to change out of my skates.
Mark's whole body was tense, waiting for the slightest movement from the ref. The game was tied at one, with only eleven seconds remaining on the clock. Mark knew that missing this face-off would mean a tie for the Blackhawks' first game of the season, which would piss off his boss, the goalie. Mark was still the new guy at the furniture store, and he was trying to make a good impression.
The puck seemed to drop in slow motion. Mark's stick shot out, as if the motion of the ref's arm controlled it. The blade of his stick grabbed the puck and passed it hard to Thompson, who was standing in the opposing goalie's blind spot. He paused long enough to set up the perfect shot, right over the goalie's shoulder before letting it fly. The goalie didn't even realize that Thompson was there. SCORE!
As the horn sounded and the Blackhawks surrounded their goalie to celebrate their victory over the Wolves, the boss looked at Mark and said, "Thanks for not fucking up, Newbie."
Mark was the first of his teammates to arrive at Mickey's. He ordered a pitcher of Sam's Winter Lager, hesitated, and then ordered pizza and wings too. He knew that the rest of the team would be along soon. The bar wasn't crowded yet, but it was still early.
The waitress delivered his pitcher and a few frosted glasses. She glanced at the empty seats and said, "Dining with imaginary friends tonight? Or are you waiting for someone?"
Mark gave a little laugh, and replied, "Waiting for the rest of my team. They should be here soon, I hope. I mean, I hope I have the right bar."
"Team, huh? What do you play?" she asked as she looked him over, trying to guess.
"Hockey. I play for the Bentley Blackhawks. We just beat the Monroe Wolves, so we're celebrating," he answered.
As he talked, he felt her eyes looking him over. This amused him, and he smiled at her. She held his gaze for a moment, and licked her lips gently. Mark's smile widened to a grin, and he tried to think of something to say that wouldn't ruin the moment.
"Looks like your friends are here," she said as she nodded toward the door. "I'm Trish, by the way. Let me know if you need anything." The moment was officially ruined.
"I'm Mark," he replied, but she had already walked back toward the bar.
His teammates, their wives and girlfriends crowded Mark into the corner. He was very aware that he was the only one flying solo, but for once, he was glad. Each time she approached the table, Trish gave him a flirty smile, but it was too loud to talk there.
The guys were still over-analyzing every move in the game when the food was gone and the pitchers were drained. Wives and girlfriends started checking their watches and grabbing their coats, and pretty soon Mark was left alone with his boss and his wife.
"Great game, Sport," Mr. Phillips said. "I thought you'd blow that last face-off, but you really pulled through."
He clapped Mark on the back as he stood to leave, and Mark felt pretty pleased with himself. He didn't love the furniture job, but the word was that Mr. Phillips also owned a computer sales company, and that the guys that did well at the furniture store were usually moved within a year. Mark was hoping for that promotion.
"You gotta work on your skating though. Stick-handling doesn't get you far if you can't skate worth a damn," he added, letting the wind right out of Mark's sails.
"I try. I mean, I go to Public Skating at the rink when I can. Ice time is expensive otherwise," Mark stammered. He hated to make excuses, but it was hard to get practice time.
"Tell you what," Mr. Phillips replied. "My mother has a little pond on her property. You can practice there. I'll give you the details at work," he added when his wife tapped her finger on the face of her watch again.
"Thanks, Trish," Mr. Phillips called as he left her substantial tip on the table and walked to the door with his wife.
Mark sat down at the table, waiting for Trish. He was a little buzzed, so he was trying to decide whether he would stay a while and sober up or call a cab right away. Trish answered that question for him when she brought two beers to the table and sat down with him.
"So what's your name, Slapshot?" Trish asked.
"Mark. Nice to meet you, Trish," he replied. He took a sip of his beer.
"Are you trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?" he asked, smiling coyly and batting his eyelashes like a cartoon rabbit.
"Ha! You wish!" she retorted. She took a sip and said, "But seriously, is it working?"
Mark laughed louder than he had intended, giving away the fact that he was buzzed. "I guess that decision is made," he said, shaking his head.
"So I can have my way with you, huh?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. It wasn't quite the answer she expected, but she played along, enjoying the flirty heat that was beginning to build between them.
"No. I mean, sure you can. I mean, I just realized that driving home is out of the question. I thought maybe I'd stay for a while and sober up, but you brought me another beer, and..."
Trish interrupted him, saving him from further embarrassing himself. "Hey. Enjoy it," she said. "I'll get you home. Don't worry about it."
"Trish!" the bartender bellowed.
"Hang on. I'll be right back," she said as she walked back to the bar to negotiate an early release.
"I didn't think this through too well, I guess," Mark said as he slid into the passenger seat of Trish's car. "I never thought about how I would get my car in the morning."
Trish put her hand on Mark's thigh and turned to him. She looked in his eyes, and then lowered her gaze to his lips. She bit her lower lip a little bit nervously.
Mark's eyebrows rose as it finally dawned on him where this was going. He put his hand on top of hers and caressed it gently. His lips parted softly as he leaned toward her. She smiled as his mouth reached hers.
The kiss was soft and gentle at first with a couple of light brushes of the lips. Mark felt the first tingle in his groin, and he slid his hand up her arm to the side of her face. He pulled her in tighter, and Trish poked her tongue past his lips to meet his. As the kiss built in intensity, Mark's cock strained against his fly. Trish's hand moved to the front of his jeans, and she rubbed him through the denim. He moaned softly as he moved his hand to the front of her t-shirt. He could feel her erect nipple against his palm.
"I should drive," she said breathlessly.
"Yeah," he said, sitting back in his seat.
The car reached the first stoplight, and Trish turned left. Mark said, "Where are you going? My house is straight ahead."
"You're slow, aren't you?" she said, shaking her head.
"Huh?" he asked. "Aren't you driving me home?"
"I'm taking you home with me. To my apartment. With me," she repeated slowly. "Is that o.k. with you?"
"And I'm going to stay the night at your apartment, right?" he asked. "And you'll drive me back to my car in the morning."
"Now you've got it!" she affirmed, laughing at him.
He rested his head on her shoulder and cupped his hand around her tit.
"Now you've got it," she repeated softly.
Mark unbuttoned his pants before they even entered Trish's apartment. She pulled him through the door, scolding him a little before finishing the job for him. He kicked off his shoes just in time for Trish to pull his pants down around his ankles, boxers and all. She grabbed his cock and jacked it a couple of times.
"Ooh. You are so big and hard for me," she cooed.
He moaned as she pulled on his cock, and asked, "Are you going to suck my cock, Baby?"
She pulled him into her bedroom and dropped to her knees in front of him. Mark leaned over to pull her shirt over her head. He fumbled for a moment, trying to open her bra. She helped him then leaned back on her hands so he could get a good look at her naked torso. He moaned again.
"Now I'll suck your cock," she said, licking her lips. His cock was long and thick, and the precum was beginning to pool in the slit at the head.
Trish leaned forward, opened her mouth, and looked up at Mark. She stuck her tongue out a little bit and licked the head of his penis gently.
He shuddered audibly and began unbuttoning his shirt. He brought his hands to the back of her head and pulled her head into his groin. At the same time, Mark thrust his hips forward, slamming his cock into Trish's mouth.
Again she looked up over his cock, and she smiled at him. She grabbed his buttocks roughly and began to suck his cock. She sucked hard, feeling the pressure of the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat with each thrust. She liked the way it felt, knowing that he was large enough to fill her mouth.
She pulled back a little bit, and sucked the end of his penis more gently, like a baby would suck a pacifier. She rubbed her tongue along the length of his penis, giving special attention to the sensitive spot right under the head. She rubbed her lips against his shaft and felt his pubic hair rubbing against her lips and nose.
She looked to her left and saw their reflection in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She liked what she saw. It had been a long time since she had a man in her room, and being on her knees with his cock poking her throat made her shudder with desire.
Mark felt her head turn with his cock. He looked to see what she was looking at. He was just as pleased with their image in the mirror. He ruffled the hair on her head and smiled. She was a talented cocksucker, and he wasn't going to be able to hold out for long. He felt her hand reach up and begin to caress his balls.
"Oh, yeah. Rub my balls. That's amazing," he moaned. Her tongue was running up and down his cock, and his orgasm began to build.
She could sense that he was getting closer as well. His cock seemed to grow even larger in her mouth, and his flesh was swelling thicker and thicker against her tongue. She could taste his salty precum from the tip of her tongue to the entrance to her throat. His balls tightened in her hand.
Suddenly she felt the base of his cock beginning to twitch against her lower lip, and she readied herself for the flow of cum into her mouth. It came in spurt after spurt, warm and salty, right down her throat. She swallowed as fast as she could while she continued to suck the cum right out of the tip of his cock.
When his orgasm finally subsided, he let go of her head and helped her to her feet.
"Take your pants off. I wanna lick your pussy," he said. He helped her pull down her pants and step out of them.
"Panties too, Baby. I don't want to eat cotton. I want to eat pussy," he added, arching his eyebrows and smiling wickedly.
She lay back on the bed and spread her legs. Mark crawled up on his knees and put his hands on the inside of her thighs. They were soft and trembling a little. He leaned in and took a little taste of her sweet, sweet pussy.
"Ooh," she shuddered. "That's nice."
He went in harder the second time, connecting directly with her clitoris. He lapped slowly, like a cat drinking from a saucer of milk. He smiled, knowing he was making her squirm. He poked his tongue into her vagina, as far as it would go, and wiggled it a little.
He began a gentler assault on her pussy, exploring her sex with his tongue, memorizing the folds in her flesh. As his tongue slid along the silky skin surrounding her clit, she grabbed his hair between her fingers and held his mouth against her.
"Don't stop, Baby. Don't stop. No. Stop. Fuck me instead," she muttered. "I need to feel you filling me up."
Mark continued to lick, just long enough to tease her. He crawled up over her body, dragging his tongue along her flat belly on his way. Her body was exquisite- muscular, yet feminine. Her breasts were small and firm with perfect pink nipples which were very hard at the moment. He hovered over her, taking his time with each nipple. He put each in his mouth, sucking gently. He moved his mouth back to hers, and kissed her deeply.
"Please fuck me," she murmured into his mouth.
"I'd love to," he replied, taking his cock and guiding it inside of her.
Mark and Trish moaned together as he entered her for the first time. She was acutely aware of the length, girth, and hardness of his cock, and he began to withdraw. When the head of his penis was almost out, he entered her again, faster this time.
He began fucking her with a steady rhythm, and she bucked her hips to meet his thrusts. She grabbed his head and pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him, sticking her tongue deep into his mouth.
Suddenly he pulled out and moved back down to lick her pussy again. When his tongue touched her clit, she cried out loud.
"Oh my god I love that!" she yelled.
He murmured with his lips buried in her pussy. "You like that, Baby? You like being fucked then licked?"
Trish couldn't answer. Her orgasm snuck up on her before she could realize it was happening. She grabbed his head hard and ground her pussy against his face. She grunted incoherently until she stopped cumming.
He kissed her pussy again, and then grabbed her shoulders and flipped her onto her stomach. She scrambled onto her hands and knees, spreading her legs. Mark moved closer to her and guided his cock back inside her from behind. He reached under her body to cup her breasts. She moaned again.
He fucked her hard and fast, squeezing her tits in rhythm with his hips. She could feel his cock stabbing deep inside her. He began making incoherent noises, and he knew he'd blow his load at any second.
As the first wave of his orgasm hit, he pulled his cock out and slid it along the crack of her ass. He continued pumping as the cum began to spurt onto her ass. He loved watching himself cum onto a woman's body.
Trish felt deliciously dirty as she felt his hot cum landing on her ass and dripping down her body. She reached back and rubbed her ass. She brought her hand to her mouth and licked the cum off her hand.
She said, "That was awesome." She kissed him on the head and headed to the shower. He was already asleep.
I get to the pond later than usual, and the sun is already over the trees. I start with my usual warm up laps with Gangnam Style pumping through my iPod. I'm not proud of that choice, but it's a catchy tune, and it really makes me move.
With my blood pumping hard, I slow it down and practice my figures. Nobody does those anymore, but I had an old-school coach, and he wouldn't be pleased if I skipped them.
I control my movements as I change from inside to outside edge, turning and gliding. I don't listen to music while I do figures. I just concentrate on the sound of the shushing of my blades on the ice as I turn.
The music for each of my old routines is queued on my iPod, so I skate directly from one to the next. I haven't competed in years, but I still remember every step.
I switch to a new playlist- "Sex Musik" and my favorite song comes on, Screwdriver by Jackyl.
The music starts, and I run my hands down along my sides. I start a slow back crossover, and pick the pace up into a quick double toe loop. In my competition days, my jumps were triples. Now I'm less interested in falling on my ass, so I keep it simple and sexy. I skate slowly from one edge to the other. Inside spread eagle to outside spread eagle...I push my chest out and run my gloved hands over my breasts.
Jumping...spinning...spiral with my leg high in the air...
I imagine my lover watching me skate, that my dance for him is foreplay, a striptease. I begin to spin, starting with a furious scratch spin on one foot, and then leaning into a sexy layback. I am aware of my hard nipples, pointing toward the sky, my hands swirling in a graceful pattern high above my chest.
The music winds down as my spin slows. Once again I run my hands down my body, feeling like an exotic dancer. I think about taking off my clothes, and wonder how that could work on skates. I stand there for a moment, imagining that I am standing nude in the cold before skating to the shore.
Mark rolled over when the sunlight peeking through the side of the shades hit his face. With the light on his face, he couldn't open his eyes. He took a deep breath, and inhaled the scent of an unfamiliar woman- a perfume he didn't recognize mixed with the musky smell of sex. He felt around on the bed, wondering whom he had taken home last night. He finally pried his eyes open and saw the white and yellow room, obviously not his own.
He bolted up in the unfamiliar, sweet-smelling bed, and remembered where he was.
"Trish," he said aloud. "Her name was Trish."
It all came flooding back to him- the hockey game, the waitress, the ride home, the most amazing blowjob of his life. He licked his lips and realized that the faint taste of her pussy remained on his mouth.
He looked around, wondering where she went.
"Trish?" he called, but he got no answer.
He got out of her bed, hardly noticing that he was naked. He found the bathroom in the hallway. Trish had left a brand-new toothbrush, a clean, white towel and a note for him.
Mark- DON'T LEAVE! (That's a joke. You don't have your car!) I just went out for a little bit. I'll be back soon to make pancakes. There's coffee made in the kitchen. <3 Trish
Mark took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, and dried off, wrapping the huge, fluffy towel around his waist. He walked into the kitchen to get some coffee, just as Trish came through the back door, bringing a blast of frigid air into the kitchen with her.