![]() ![]() The roads are shit, and I don’t particularly want to be here tonight, but Dean insisted that we needed to party. ![]() ![]() She’s toxic.”ĭean is dispensing his (usually misguided) wisdom to our freshman left wing, Hunter Davenport, as I walk into Malone’s out of the pouring rain. Still, I have zero expectations as I follow my friends to the bar counter. The kind of itch that can only be scratched with a hard, ripped body and a hopefully above average-sized cock.Įxcept I’m extremely selective about who I hook up with, and just as I’d feared, Malone’s is thick with hockey players when the girls and I stride inside five minutes later.īut hey, if that’s the hand I’ve been dealt, then I guess there’s no harm in playing it and seeing what happens. ![]() I’ve been plagued with tension for weeks, and these past few days I’ve definitely been feeling the…itch. I’m really not in the mood to chat up any guys tonight, but I can’t deny that my friends are right. Our coats are drenched by the time we reach Hope’s car, but we have our hoods on, so our hair survives the downpour. “Make me.” Hope tosses her head, her long braids smacking against my coat, and then exits Professor Gibson’s house.Ĭarin shrugs and follows her, and after a second of hesitation, I do too. Want me to ask D’Andre?” Hope holds up her phone, but I shake my head. “We just established that the place is crawling with hockey players.” ![]()
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