Iced Flip Side

Wasting no time, I stripped off my practice T and skated back into the center of the ice. I was in great shape and my skin-tight practice leotard basket showed off not only my great length and thickness but also my immediate need, so I knew if Andre was at all serious underneath that teasing that had driven several of us crazy for the two years he’d been skating professionally, he’d take the bait.

And take the bait he did. We started out pretending at least to be into our individual practice regimes, but our eyes were glued to each other in an undeniable mating dance. Andre skated over to the boards and stripped off his practice T, feigning that the heat was getting to him, but we both knew that I and my magnificent body and obvious need were getting to him. When he glided back onto the ice, our routines came into synch and drew together into ever tighter circles, until, in a cloud of ice shavings, we both stopped dead, facing each other, very close. Both of our chests were heaving from the intensity of the syncopated ice dance. I leaned my head down to the much shorter, more compact solo skater, and he tilted his head up, meeting my lips with his. Our tongues entwined, and I found he had a knob-headed stud in his tongue. I thrilled in anticipation of how I would make use of the stud and laughed to myself at the similar surprise the French youngster was in for.

With one hand on his butt and the other on the small of his back, I arched Andre’s torso back and attacked his pert little erect nipples with my lips and teeth, leaving him in no doubt about my need and my intention to ravish his body. He was giving little yips of pleasure and pain and buried his fingers in my hair, giving at least token indication of trying to pull me off him. But his fingers slipped away, as I lifted him off the ice and slid his body up mine while moving my lips and teeth down to his belly and navel, which was pierced with a gold ring that got a workout from my tongue, teeth, and lips.