“He’s hard.”
“I think maybe your perspective is skewed because of my dick.”
She shrugs. “You may have a point. I hope he’s good with his tongue. Anyway, check this out.” She scrolls through page after page of some guy’s dick doing ridiculous things.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“We should do it with Super MC! Imagine how much more exciting it would be with your huge dick.”
“I’m not posting dressed-up dick pics on the internet, Violet.”
“Well, can I at least make a photo album?”
“Of my dick?”
“It’ll be fun.”
“You’re crazy.”
“That’s why you love me.” She closes the laptop and moves it to the coffee table, then straddles my lap. I take her glasses off, set them on the arm of the couch, and pull the tie from her hair, setting it free. It tumbles over her shoulders in loose waves.
“We could start now.” She searches my pocket for my phone. “Did you know Balls and Lily make videos?”
“Pardon?”
“Randy and Lily. They make videos so he has something to jack off to when he’s gone for away games.”
“What kind of videos?”
Violet arches a brow. “What kind do you think?”
“How do you know that?” I seriously hope she hasn’t seen one.
“She told me. And she showed me one.”
“She showed you a sex video?”
“We might overshare a lot of information, but not that much, Alex. He made a video that time he came to Guelph to see her. She’d fallen asleep on him, and I guess part of the deal was no sleeping, so he videoed her.”
“He made a video of Lily while she was sleeping?”
“Don’t say it like that. It’s not creepy. It was sweet and kinda hot.” Violet gets this faraway look in her eye before she shakes her head. “Anyway, he made a video of him waking her up.”
“I don’t understand why that’s hot or what it has to do with sex videos.”
“Well, he was waking her up to have sex again. And it ends on a kiss.” She flutters a hand in front of her face. “Anyway, we should make some videos like that.”
“I don’t think we should use your phone if we do, since you’ve lost two in the past year.”
“We could use your phone since you don’t lose yours.”
“We could.” I’m totally down with making sex videos with Violet. I’ll have to watch them wearing headphones since she’s exuberant in bed, but I can live with that. I would love to make a video of me sliding my dick between her tits.
Just as I’m about to suggest this, my phone lights up in her hand.
Based on the way her face falls, I’m betting it’s another text from my mom. “Let me guess, two more guests?” I skim her sides until I reach the hem of her shirt. “I already told her no.”
“What are we up to now?”
“Sixty-eight.”
“Might as well make it an even seventy.”
I slip one hand under her shirt and grab the phone before she can key in the code and respond. “We’re not going to deal with that right now.”
“She’ll start texting me soon, and you know it.”
“So let her text.” I push Violet’s shirt up until a boob pops out. She’s wearing black lace. She doesn’t own a lot of black lingerie, so when she wears it I get super excited. I don’t know why. It does something to me—just like when she wears her Marvel Comics underwear.
My phone beeps again. I press my face into her cleavage and sigh.
She runs her hands through my hair, and I feel her chin on top of my head. “Just message her back, Alex.” Her resignation fuels my determination.
“Fuck that.” I flick the clasp on her bra and lay her out on the couch. “She can wait.”
Violet grins. “Okay.”
Kneeling between her thighs, I pull down her leggings and panties. “Leggings are the best.”
“Totally the best,” Violet agrees.
Then I lower my head and lick her until she comes. And then I make her come one more time with my fingers and my tongue just because I can, and I want to. Couch sex isn’t as easy as bed sex, but it’s fun, and we clearly both need it. We also totally forget to get it on video.
“It’s a good thing this couch is leather,” Violet says into my neck. I’m still lying on top of her, because moving means making a mess.
“It’s also a good thing the cleaning lady is coming tomorrow. I’ll leave out the leather conditioner for her.”
“I bet she knows we have the sex on here. I wonder if she fantasizes about it.”
“She’s in her fifties.”
“All the more reason to fantasize about what it must be like to get boned by a superhot, giant-dicked hockey player.”
I snort and then groan when my phone beeps again. “Why won’t she stop?”
“She can’t help herself, Alex. It’s frustrating, but I get it. You’re her Stanley Cup. She wants everyone to be there when she gives you away.”