It was my first ever Boston Bruins practice. I’d won a contest to attend a closed skate, so it was just me and the boys. I watched longingly as they skated one by one onto the ice. I especially kept my eye on Bryan Berard (#34) and Brian Rolston (#12). The two hotties.
I thought slutty thoughts as I watched each take a turn shooting the puck at goaltender Steve Shields. He was also very doable.
What was I thinking? I had to concentrate on the on-ice action, not on my imaginary Bruins gangbang. Besides, what were the odds?
“Excuse me, miss.” It was a security guard.
“Should I move?”
“Well actually, at every practice, we pick a fan to sit in the penalty box. Since you’re the only one here, would you be interested?” I gladly accepted, figuring it would be a much better view.
The penalty box was actually quite comfortable. The bench was lightly padded and there were water bottles ready for use.
The doors started to open. Bryan Berard was coming in! I hadn’t expected any visitors.
“Hi there,” he greeted me. “I’m Bryan.”
“I-I know.” I sounded like such an idiot. “I’m Jen.” I extended my hand.
Bryan removed his gloves and fervently shook my hand. Ouch, I thought to myself as he reached for a water bottle and sprayed most of the contents on his sweat-drenched face. As I watched Bryan I suddenly felt very wet down below.
“Not that I mind,” I said, “but why are you in the penalty box? I thought this was just practice.”
“Yeah, but our coach likes our practices to have the feel of real games. Besides,” Bryan continued, now sporting a tiny grin, “when I saw you in here I suggested the team work on the power play. It could use some work.” He smiled a bit wider as he again squirted water on his face.
My clit began to throb as I watched the sweat drip from Bryan’s gorgeous face. I had to say it. “Would you like me to cool you off some more?”
Bryan looked me up and down. “If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, I think it will only make me hotter. Besides, honey, we’re in a penalty box.” But there was that grin, nonetheless.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be sorry.” I glanced around to make sure the coast was relatively clear as I got on my knees and presented myself to Bryan. He seemed quite ready. Even with all the padding on I could still make out the outline of his rock-hard cock strained against his thermal hockey shorts.