What a Nice Guy by Phil Torcivia

Friday, April 20, 2012

Fifty Shades of Silver Hair and Socks - Chapter 3

"Did I s-s-stutter?"
"No, but I don't recall what a hockey bang is ... and you scratched me. I think my nipple is bleeding."
"Don't be a baby. You call yourself a fan, Silver? Get up."

Bea climbs off of me and I stand. My jeans are uncomfortably tight with the recent addition of blood to the area ... and my nipple smarts, but I don't want to rub it as that would be extra creepy. Bea turns away from me and reaches over her desk toward her speakerphone. This exposes her underwear, which feature the Montreal Canadiens logo. Hmm, this crazy chick really is a fan. I prefer orange and black panties, but this will do. Bea removes the receiver and presses a button.

*Beep*
"What's with the phone, Sugarbone?"
"You have two minutes," she informs me as she shoves me backward.
"Hey, play nice!"
"Pansy."
"Fucking psycho."
"What did you call me?" she grabs the sleeves of my T-shirt and yanks.
"So, that's the way you want to play. Fine."

I grab her around the waist and pull her close. She slaps me and grabs my shirt again. Great, now my ear is ringing.

"Ouch! We'll have no more of that, young lady."

I pull her dress over her head but it snags on her hair and earrings. Well, at least her arms are tied up. Still, she struggles to slap me flailing her arms like a gator. I chuckle.

"Yes, baby. That's it. Wait, are you laughing at me, Silver?"
"Maybe."
"Take off my panties and get inside me ... now!"

She writhes as I pull off her suck-y hockey team panties. Fuck Guy Lafleur. She's soaked. I quickly undo my jeans and dive into her lusciousness. I can feel her insides quiver as I bury myself. Suddenly, I hear a voice from her speakerphone.

"One minute remaining; one minute left in the first period."
I arch up. "What the fuck is that?"
"It's Eric. You'd better hurry, Silver."
"God damn it, woman! You can't give a guy time limits like that. It's too much pressure."

I look down at her and smirk again about her dress tying up her arms. She reaches up regardless and pinches my sore nipple.

"Ouch!"
"Deeper. Please. I need you--all of you."

I reach down and pull up her legs. Grabbing her behind the kneecaps, I push her knees toward her shoulders and grind to new depths. She moans.

"Thirty seconds; thirty seconds remaining."
"Wait a second. Can Eric hear us?"
"Shut up, Silver. Shoot. Hurry."
"He is gay, right?"
"Time is running out." She gently touches my nipple, warning me.
"Fine."

I slam away at her. She's so wet and lovely. Time stands still. I shoot ... a siren rings out and the office door flies open. Eric runs in and pulls us apart.

(more to come)



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