Let’s Fuckin Go

The scream that left your lips was immediately followed by a bout of insane laughter as Lance let out a shriek of surprise. It was your turn to pick what you did this Halloween and you decided on a haunted walk-through maze at the local showgrounds.

“This is the fucking last time you talk me into anything ever again” Lance grimaced as he shied away from a creepy looking dummy, you couldn’t help the snigger as you gripped at his jacket sleeve.

“It’s not that baddd..” you let out a squeal of surprise as one of the attraction workers hissed at you from around the corner causing you to let go of Lance and make a break for it.

“Oh no you don’t” you had to laugh at the absurdity of Lance practically vaulting over you, you both wrestled for a few moments before you slipped under his arm and rushed forward.

“Traitor” you heard him grumble under his breath

“Every man for themselves baby” you grinned, following a group of people a few paces in front of you.

“I better get the best sex of my life tonight for this” You rolled your eyes as Lance’s consistent grumbling.

“You always get the best sex of your life with me Tucker” you were expecting an equally dirty jab back from your boyfriend but was only met with silence.

“Babe, please tell me that’s you touching me” you were sworn to absolute secrecy that Lance Tucker does not shriek like a girl when he’s scared, but the next day most of the girls in the USA team knew just how much of a scaredy cat their hard-ass coach really was.

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“Holy shit baby” you couldn’t help the soft giggle that fell from your lips, swaying your hips you knew what the red lace underwear set was doing to Lance. You could see the evidence of your ‘costume’ in the tent forming in his tracksuit pants as he lay back on the bed.

“You like my costume coach?” biting your lip you knew you were laying it on thick, but that’s exactly how Lance liked it. Dressed in his favourite colour, red. But the crowning jewel in your costume was Lance’s gold medal hanging just perfectly between your breasts.

“I fucking love your costume, who was the inspiration?” he’s such a shit, you hum swinging your legs over his thighs. Gently grazing your core over his hardening length, Lance groans at the fleeting contact as you rest your hand on his shoulders.

“Only the god of gymnastics” you nibble at his lower lip, earning you a grown as his hands grasp at your hips.

“Too fucking right” In a flash he has you on your back, lips attacking yours as his hands roam up and down your body. He leaves your breathless and wanting more, not giving a shit if anyone else in the hotel can hear you. Right now he’s yours and you’re his, you’re just about ready to beg him for more before he suddenly pulls away. Looking down at you that has you split wanting to cover yourself and expose yourself more to him. His hands make quick work of his shirt before they travel down under his tracksuit pants, from their movements you know he’s fisting himself and it makes your mewl in anticipation.

“Shh baby, I got you. But I need you to take that pretty red set off, keep the stocking on” you comply instantly, shedding what little clothing you have before going to take the metal off but Lance stops you with a sudden kiss.

“Don’t you dare take that off kitten, you’re gonna earn that medal tonight”

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