Now I bumped into my hockey player outside of the rink, by pure accident. After waving to him for weeks and perhaps having a few fantasies about taking his clothes off and screwing in the locker room (I’m twisted) and let me tell you the locker room fantasy isn’t so sexy once it become a reality, also for all intensive purposes don’t fuck on the ice it’s cold. I’ve done it at a well known NHL arena with my first Mr. Right. No matter what your hockey player tells you, the warmth of your bodies in the throws of passion are just not enough to keep you from getting hypothermia during sex.
I’m getting off topic, sorry. So, I met my hockey player and who would have thought that once he opened that perfect mouth his words would be unrecognizable. Of course, I picked a fucking European barely speaks English player on the team. I also, picked a goalie (for all the people who like to speculate, I just narrowed down about ¾ of the NHL player options for you). After head shaking and smiling my way through the conversation we exchanged numbers, we played the texting game for the next 24 hours. Entry:
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