“I don’t like this,” I say.
“You’re doing great.”
“I’m really not.”
“Okay, something else then.” He drops my hands, lifts one foot, and bows deeply, his leg straight out behind him and his arms out at his sides. It’s graceful. “One leg.”
I bend a knee, standing there on one leg.
“Move, Roman,” he says with an eye roll as he pushes himself off and starts to move around me in this other bird-like pose.
I gain speed and lift my foot, wobbling worse than before but catch myself. He skates around me in circles, literally, on one foot, bent down in that bow like it’s his normal position.
“You’re a lot more flexible than I thought,” I say.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He winks at me again, and this time my dick gets hard.
We keep up with the one-leg skating for a while. I’m frustrated that it’s harder than it looks and I blame it on the skates. If I had mine, this would be a lot easier.
“Okay, my turn,” I say.
“What do you have for me?” he asks eagerly.
“Let’s skate backwards from one end to the other.”
“Seriously?” He scoffs and waves a hand. “Easy.”
“Uh huh…”
We skate to the boards, holding on to the edge. I tell him we’ll go on three, and I count off. We go, and it takes all of three seconds for him to bump me.
“Stay in your own lane,” I say, trying to sound firm but holding back a laugh.
“You’re coming into mine!” he argues, bumping into me again.
“Definitely you,” I say back, pushing over and still managing to skate backwards with ease, even in these weird skates. We reach the other side, and he’s so far off that it’s funny.
“Okay, so not great at skating backwards in astraight line.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Sue me. What else?”
“You wanna slam me up against the boards?” I ask.
“I mean, yeah… but not in a way that’s appropriate for the arena.”
I smile, trying to ignore the way my dick is perking up even more.
“Come on. Try to see if you can move me.”
“I’m sure it’s not even that hard. You’re on ice… it’s slippery.”
I shrug. “Let’s see what you’ve got then.” I skate closer to the boards, standing a few inches from them. “Get me against the boards.”
He looks at the distance between me and the boards and rolls his eyes.
“You’re joking? Move further away.”
“Trust me—”
“Trustme,” he says. “I’ve totally got this.”
