I feel the heat rise in my groin as he executes the platter lift, his hands igniting the fire as he firmly grips my hips, holding my tiny body above his head, the spinning rink filling my peripheral vision.
Even in the midst of a national competition, I want him. His arrogant way of ignoring me only fuels my burning determination. I’m known for getting what I want, at least with men, but he doesn‘t know me, doesn‘t try to know me.
My name is Chelsea. The man of whom I speak and think about constantly is Rujeo, from Spain, or so his fact sheet says. We are ice dancing partners, paired by the Commission just two months ago after my other partner left. What can I say to describe Rujeo…to paint a picture of the man who lifts me, guides me, turns me, rapes me with his eyes, but ignores me off the ice. He is beautiful that’s the only description I can give you. Tall, muscular, handsome, all that standard stuff, but it’s the bulge in his skating tights that captures my attention so totally. He is hung! I’ve been around the rink enough to recognize a male prize when I see it.
As he lowers me, following the routine perfectly, I slide down the front of him to lay on his protruding leg, one hand on his waist, the other lodged between his thigh and that place I long to see, my face so close to his cock, I could lick it. In mischief, I let my fingers stroll over to his balls. I can feel him respond, his nuts shrinking a little at my touch. Behave yourself, my conscience says. Fuck off!, I silently reply. We’re a perfect match, the two of us. A faultless routine, executed amidst desire, at least on my part. The crowd roars their approval as he spins me into our closing death spiral.
Rujeo is complicated. I’ve tried everything I know to get some personal recognition from him – anything, a simple “Hello,” a compliment, even a nod in my direction. The only conversation we’ve had is about the routines we meticulously follow or how we might improve a lift. I’m attractive, I have a nice body, and I’m sensual practiced in consensual sex, available. What is wrong with that guy? I say to myself.
What a tease that little slut is, Rujeo thought to himself as he walked down the hall to the locker room. I could fuck her into next week in a second! She thinks her little move out there went right by me. I came here to get away from heartache, not to fall prey to another woman’s seduction. Still, he knew the waves of excitement that swept through his groin when she touched him just confirmed how much he would love to fuck her. Stay strong! He shook the vision from his mind.
I hear the shower running as I enter the changing room. It could only be him in there, I think to myself, all the other competitors have left for the reception. A mental picture of his naked body fills my mind’s eye. As I pull the costume over my head, an evil thought comes to me. Why not give him a little tease?
His body is stunning! Striated muscles flex across his back as he turns off the water and reaches for a towel. Drying his face, he turns toward me, freezing my legs where they stand. His large cock is hanging majestically in front of him, the size of it unaffected by water. He sees me as the towel leaves his face, and my nipples immediately rise on my breasts, periscopes for the sweet spot between my legs. Our eyes lock. Undaunted, his lips curl into a sarcastic smirk as my legs turn on their own and take me quickly from the room. I am shaken; I hide in the dressing area until I hear the locker room door close behind him.
Coffee in hand, I go into the huge rink, ready for another day of a six-hour practice. We placed first last night in the second round, but tomorrow is free skate, and our routine is demanding. Somehow, I have to act naturally in front of him, despite the embarrassment I should feel from seeing him last night. How stupid of me! He must think I’m desperate.
Chelsea’s thought could not have been further from the truth. Rujeo had been more shocked than she when he turned to see that small, shapely body exposed before him. She was stunning! There she had stood, firm breasts waiting to be sucked, her well groomed triangle begging to be kissed. It was all he could do to restrain himself, to not run to her, to not take her in that instant. Thankfully, she was so embarrassed she ran away. Guess that backfired! Rujeo had said to himself.He had quickly dressed and left the rink, anxious to get somewhere private so the load that filled his groin could be released.
Now, as he watched her pull open the rink door, balancing the heavy bag on her shoulder while she struggled to keep a cup of coffee from spilling, he wished he could unload into her right now. Don’t do it, don’t even think of it, warned his mind. Take her! rebutted his dick, stirring in the soft, protective shield of his tights.
For our free skate dance, we’re doing a Viennese Waltz, the most romantic and sensual of all the ice dance routines. The sexiness of it stirs the skaters as much as it fills the crowd with excitement. I love this dance, especially when there’s a magnet of attraction with my partner. I’m looking forward to having his hands on me, no matter how disengaged he might be. I wonder if seeing my body last night even registered with him.
Rujeo swept her slight frame into the split lift twist without any effort. The form was absolute perfection as she spread her legs into a wide V-shape facing the crowd, strands of hair blowing free from the knot held in place with a net on top of her head. As he rounded the fourth turn in the rink, Rujeo began to lower her, holding her extended right leg tight in his hand while his other hand slipped under her arm. He held her steady as she leaned downward, her head almost touching the ice. As payback, he pressed the side of her breast with his fingers, letting her know that he could also play the game.
I felt the touch of his fingers on my breast, felt my nipple harden instantly, as if it knew what his mind was thinking. He wanted me, that animal mating sense was never wrong. I pulled myself back upright in response to his tug and place my arms around his neck, pushing my body tightly against his, the bulge in his pants rubbing my stomach. Rujeo’s eyes pierce mine with a knowing look. As we sail around the rink, spinning to the beat of the music, I promise myself to take him.
The empty shower was a relief to see. Rujeo knew he wouldn’t make it home without cumming. He was full for her, the little slut that dared him with her body. He reached down and took his member in his hand. Familiar, slow strokes brought the hardness Rujeo had come to expect. Chelsea, he whispered quietly, Oh, Chelsea.
I quietly tiptoe to the door of the shower room, knowing he was alone. As I step around the bare opening, I see him from the back, his left hand is braced against the wall, stabilizing him as his right hand moves back and forth in a movement I recognize. Sneaking up behind him, I step close to his back, his breath catches as he feels my presence, but he doesn‘t miss a stroke of his member. My left hand circles his waist, as my right hand finds his, and I match his rhythm. His moan brings an unsolicited whisper from my lips, “I want you,” it says, and I feel his body relax.
He turned toward her slowly, not wanting to ruin the electric moment that engaged them. With a quick movement, Rujeo jerked the netting from her hair, letting the blonde curls fall to her shoulders. Water from the shower flowed over them as their lips met in a seductive kiss. Both of them knew the denied moment had finally come. He lifted her in his arms and took her to the bench in the locker room.
I didn’t wait for him to guide me, knowing that his dick belonged in my mouth. I wanted it there. My hand closed around his shaft and brought the swollen rod to my wet lips, which circled it as if it had come home. My tongue finds the taste of salty pre-cum lodged in the slit of its head, and I suck, while he pushes it deeper into my willing mouth. He presses toward me, putting his hands behind my head, helping me work into a methodic movement that pleases him. “Do it, bitch,” he says. “You wanted it, take it, prove what you can do!” Don’t let him humiliate you, I encourage myself. As our cadence of love increases, so does his roughness.
Without any warning, Rujeo yanked Chelsea up from the bench, pulling her half by her neck and half by her arm. Her melancholy quickly transitioned to shock. He slapped her across the face; when her hand flew up in protection, he pulled it behind her and backed her up to the wall.
He is overpowering, his height towers over me like a mountain, but every ounce of my resolve vows to meet him head on. With my free hand, I grab his nuts, squeezing them until he loosens his grip on me. Grab ’em by the balls and their head will soon follow, my mind remembered from some distant place, as the point proved itself true. He pulls at my hand, his eyes begging me to let go. Slowly I release him, my eyes conveying to him that he would have me, but he wouldn’t control me. I slap him across his jaw and watch his mouth bear straight, white teeth as he fights for self-control.
He realizes that he’s met his match, and she likes it rough. Rujeo again pushes her up against the wall, partially lifting her with a hand between her legs, a typical ice dancing lift. Chelsea doesn’t resist; a throaty groan signals compliance and pleasure. She wraps her legs around him, offering her pussy for his taking. His cock finds its mark, and Rujeo lets it toy slightly at her clit, determined to make her beg for it.