Page 38 of Sin Bin (BU Hockey Season 2, #1)

Ollie

T he heat in Fallon’s eyes when I tell her I owe her a fuck against our bedroom door has my blood rushing south.

Who am I kidding? It’s a damn miracle I’m still standing upright because every brain cell and blood cell I have is devoted to the sole purpose of bringing Fallon as much pleasure as humanly possible right now.

The way she stood up for me in front of my dad is something I can't even begin to process right now, especially when my girl starts removing her clothes.

Sweet. Fucking. Hell. Her tits are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She tossed her massive sweater and tiny tank top somewhere near the closet, leaving her in just her bra and leggings.

Damn. I’m about to suggest that we make that the mandatory dress code until she hooks her thumbs into her waistband and begins tugging her leggings off.

The thin scrap of lace that covers her pussy is absolutely soaked, and when I reach up to help her peel her clothes the rest of the way off, I can’t resist breathing in the scent of her. It’s intoxicating.

“I'm not so sure this is fair,” she pouts, motioning her hand between us to illustrate the fact that she’s completely naked and I’m fully clothed.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got something to keep you busy while I get naked,” I promise.

She frowns again, and it’s fucking adorable. “I thought you were going to do a strip-tease for me, like you do for all those fans of yours.”

Fuck. Me. “Are you one of them?” I pant, voicing the question that’s been on my mind since I found out she was aware of my account.

Fallon shakes her head, her blonde hair rustling across the pillow. “I was so tempted, but it felt like an invasion of privacy.” She bites her lip and when she opens her mouth again, I’m stunned at what she says.

“I have a confession to make,” she tells me as I root through the night stand drawer for what I need.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “What’s that?”

She props herself up on her elbows, putting her naked tits on full display.

“I watched you. Not on MyFans. In person. A couple of weeks ago, the day you shared your grilled cheese, you left your earbuds downstairs. I ran up to give them to you. Your door was cracked. And you were lying on the bed.”

Fallon’s breathing has gone ragged. Her eyes are wide. I bet if I pressed my lips to her pulse point, I’d find it racing.

“What was I doing?”

“Recording yourself.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask.

“Mmhmmm,” she answers. “You weren’t wearing a shirt. You were stroking yourself, and?—”

“And what?” I prompt, tipping her chin up .

“It was hot,” she says. “Really hot. So hot that I looked for longer than I should have.”

What she should have done was join me, but I keep that thought to myself. “What did you do next?” I ask.

“I came in here. I took off my clothes and laid on my bed. I touched myself.”

The very same one we’re on right now. Fuck. “Show me,” I ask, fully aware that I’m probably drooling and practically begging.

“I need inspiration,” she says, grinning impishly at me. “Maybe you should recreate the visual so I can get in the mood.”

I’ve never taken my shirt off so fast in my whole life.

I toe off my shoes and stretch out on the bed beside her. I’m bare-chested and my gray sweats are doing fuck-all to conceal my arousal. But Fallon seems to be enjoying the view, if the way she’s staring at me is any indication.

“I remember that day,” I say, turning my body so I can face her. “And I wasn’t recording anything. I thought about it. I should have been. But I wasn’t. It felt wrong to post a video of myself because the only thing on my mind that afternoon was you.”

I watch her expression change as my words register. “You knew I was there?” she asks, confusion lacing her words.

“No,” I reply. “Fucking wish I would have, but no. I made you lunch and you moaned and you always look so damn good…” My voice trails off as I lower my head.

Then I bring it up to face her once more because she’s hot as hell and she should know it.

“You were wearing these leggings, or one of the other forty-five pairs you own. You were wearing a matching black sports bra and I couldn’t keep my mind out of the gutter. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. ”

“Seems like we had the same problem,” she says, smiling.

I shrug. “Doesn’t seem like much of a problem, though. Especially now.”

“Show me what you do. I want to see the parts I missed out on.”

Fallon’s hungry for it and I can’t wait to give her what she wants.

But I do have an idea first. “So, you can totally say no, but I was thinking…I didn’t film myself before, but I could now.

I wouldn’t post it anywhere or share it with anyone, but damn, the thought of watching you watch me? Fuck, yes.”

“Fuck, yes,” she repeats. “Please.”

I catch her eyes because I need clear confirmation on this. “You really want me to record us? Now?”

“Right now,” she says, without hesitation. “And be quick about it before I start without you.”

Her hand wanders idly down her stomach and for a second, I’m so transfixed that I can barely move.

But then my dick takes charge and spurs me into action.

It takes a second to locate the equipment I use.

We don’t need a fancy set-up; this is just for us, which is hot as hell.

But I anchor my camera to one of the four posts on the bed, adjust some angles, and press record.

I don’t know who bought this bedroom furniture, but may the good Lord bless them.

“Pretend I’m not here,” she says, leaning up on one elbow for a better view.

“Not fucking possible,” I say, cupping my hand over my rock-hard dick. I’m still wearing sweats, but at this point, they’re a visual barrier only.

Fallon toys with a lock of her long blonde hair. “Okay, then can you pretend I’m on the other side of the camera, watching you? ”

“So, you’re both the star of my fantasy and the one watching?” I ask. “Sounds about right.

Her cheeks are pink, and it’s the cutest damn thing. “Have you ever done this before?”I ask

The blush deepens. “Masturbated in front of someone? No.”

“Have you watched anyone?”

She shakes her head. “Only in videos. My experiences have been pretty vanilla in real life. But in my head, well, that’s where it gets more interesting.”

Hell. Yes.

“Tell me about it,” I prompt.

“There’s so much I want to try. I love the idea of being watched, and I love my bullet vibrator, but I’ve wondered what other toys would feel like. I wonder if I’d like being restrained. Or if you would.”

I palm my cock over the fabric of my joggers. Yes. Please. I’m on board with all of this, and my head is already cranking out ideas. “We’re going to have so much fun. What else are you curious about?”

But Fallon shakes her head again. “You’re stalling. And I’m not feeling especially patient.” To emphasize her point, Fallon traces her finger up the valley of her thighs and over her mound. She lets it lazily wander through the soft strip of hair there before slipping a finger inside her folds.

My dick is leaking, and I don’t even care.

I could watch Fallon tease herself all damn day.

Actually, that’s a pretty good idea. And this is a shitty angle for it.

“Sit up a second?” I ask, and when she does so, I pull two pillows out and set them at the bottom of the bed, near her feet.

“Spin around so you’re facing me,” I direct.

She does as I ask, and the view is spectacular. Not only can we see more of each other’s bodies this way, we can see each other’s faces. I know she has hear hearing aids in, but I want her to be able to read every filthy word that falls from my mouth, too.

“Better?” I ask. When she nods, I take the opportunity to check in. “You’re still okay with recording this?”

“I can’t wait to watch it,” she says, confirming my suspicion that Fallon and I just might be a perfect match.

Since I’ve made my wife—and my dick— wait this long, and since neither seems to be a fan of prolonged gratification, I rest my head on the mound of pillows behind me and free my cock from the confines of my sweatpants. I give the base a squeeze and close my eyes for just a second.

“I’ve been thinking about you, about doing this, all day,” I say.

It’s not just part of the game. It’s true.

The clock on my phone says it’s little past noon, so we’ve only been up for a handful of hours.

All the same, I’ve definitely been thinking of Fallon and all the things we can do with each other for the majority of that time.

My sexy wife is fingering her pussy, her eyes on my body as I stroke my dick.

“Even while we were in a crowded restaurant?” she asks.

“God, yes,” I answer, as precum drips from the head of my cock.

I swirl my thumb around it then lean forward, so she’s just within reach.

I’m obviously breaking the rules here , but Fallon doesn't seem to mind.

Sensing my intent, she arches her back, giving me the access I need to paint her pretty nipples.

She sucks in a breath as her eyes flutter closed. Her knees part reflexively, letting her sink her hand deeper. God, what a fucking view. I know I’m supposed to be talking now, that I’m playing the part of her live fantasy, but all I can do is react.

“You look so damn hot with your hand between your legs, with my cum on your tits. I don’t even need a video. I’ll never get this image out of my mind. I’ll never want to.”

She’s teasing herself with two fingers now, rolling her hips to take them deep.

Her breasts bounce and I have to hold myself back.

The desire to reach for her is too damn strong.

When she withdraws her hand, her fingers are slick with her arousal.

When she cups her tits, swirls her fingers over her nipples, and mixes my desire with hers, I nearly come on the spot.

“You’re killing me,” I tell her. “You’re too damn far away.”

She laughs and brushes her leg against mine. “So far away,” she teases.