Hockey players. God damn hockey players. My thirst for this kid is so real it’s driving me to madness. Matched on Tinder when his team came up to play, I wanted him the moment I saw the uniform; and apparently “goalies are weird as fuck” so say other hockey sloots. I wouldn’t know, I haven’t had one yet. But this boy… he will be mine. I haven’t even heard his voice yet. We couldn’t make arrangements to see each other while he was up here; it was a sad day for DD, and thus a sad day for America. I probably shouldn’t be so into the opponents of our local boys… something something SeaWolf Pride.
We bide our time sexy snap chatting- and I’m hoping for a dual masturbation session on Skype soon. I’ve gotten increasingly more into this method of reaching climax when I can’t have the private one-on-one time I need to really get wild. You know you’re sexting a college kid when they have to jerk off in a bathroom stall… why is that so hot? I swear it makes it better for me knowing he has to deal with his dick there while I’m cozy and casual on my couch or bed. I refer to him by his jersey number or I call him Boy. He likes my dominance. I like his unattainable proximity. He’s a toy I can’t have. I would do all the things with this kid. He’s probably an asshole since he’s 21- even better. Lust is a great motivator for many things; my frustration with not bagging this kid while he was up here turned my game up to 11 while on the prowl. I feel predatory at the bar now. Paired with my gay besties when we go out, and our impeccable wingman abilities for each other, we’re unstoppable.
Athletes must get laid all the time, I’m assuming he’s decent in bed if for nothing else he has to have stamina… right? Also, this makes me a groupie right? Can I really be a groupie if I’ve never even been to a game, and have never met my intended conquest? WTF am I doing to myself. The thirst is real and remarkably unquenchable with our distance. That makes him all the more desirable, though- I tell him all the ways I want to use him. I like when he wears his glasses in his snaps…. so cute, I’ve got a thing for nerdy boys. He tells me he’ll be anything I want. He’ll do whatever I need. I like the power of being an older, sexually aggressive woman pursuing a younger man. I like that when they read my stories on here, they get hard as a rock and want to fuck me well enough to get their own part of my cyberspace. My wingman lately has just been the blog; in truth, that’s how Scapula and I really hit it off. I sent him the link and he immediately asked for my phone number. I laughed deeply at his quickness to become more acquainted. I turned him on and he wanted more. It’s such an empowering feeling to be desired, and to be desired solely for how you’ve fucked other people and proudly display it. Or maybe they just want me because I’m DTF and I get a little weird when left to my own devices- no matter. I know how I feel about it and I feel great.
He’s grungy the way I like, with what appear to be strong arms. I like his body and I want to bite it. I want to wrassle. I want to pull his hair while I fuck his face. I want to ride him until he whimpers he’s close. I want a lot of shit, but I’m not getting it. This is good for me; testing my patience, my boundaries, and my willpower.
God damn hockey players- they’re stupid-hot, fuck football.