One Timers

The bell dings as I walk into the deserted bar and I look around, only seeing a handful of people. I let out a sigh of relief. Unlike some of my teammates, I really don’t like all the attention I get when I’m out in public. Fortunately I don’t get anywhere near as much as guys like Sid Geno and Nealer. But as a Penguin and a recent Olympic gold medalist, it’s still out there. I head over to the bar and take a seat, catching the attention of the bartender.
“What can I get for you, sweetheart?” She asks. I can tell by the tone of her voice that she knows who I am, but she seems to understand that I’ve chosen this little dive bar with few patrons on a side street for a reason. She kinda reminds me of my Aunt Lisa, with the way that she looks so caringly at me. Not in a motherly way, but still a protective nature.
“Just a Guinness, please.” I say.
She goes to work pouring my beer and I pull out my phone. I have seventeen unread texts, and eight of them are from the one person who’s name I can’t even stand to see.
“Guinness is good for you, you know.” A woman says, sitting down next to me. She looks to be about my age. She’s petite, but curvy in all the right places. She has light brown hair, but the tips are dyed pink and her eyes are a gorgeous light blue. She’s wearing minimal makeup, but definitely a natural beauty. What really catches my attention, though, about her are the tattoos lining her arms and the multitude of piercings along her ears. She’s wearing a pair of ripped jeans, a black tank top, and biker boots. If she wasn’t half my size, I would probably be afraid she could beat me up. As it is, I’m not ruling that possibility out. But despite the intimidation factor, she’s absolutely sexy.
“What?” I ask.
“Guinness is good for you.... it’s their slogan?” She responds, giving me a funny look.
“Okay...” I say.
“Hannah, darling. Don’t bother him.” The bartender says, setting my beer in front of me.
“Aunt Rosie, I’m not bothering him. I literally said two things to him.” She responds. “Am I bothering you?” She asks me.
“Uh... no?” I say, taking a sip of my beer.
“See? He says I’m not bothering him.” She says pointedly at her Aunt.
“I think he’s just being nice. She can be a handful, son. You let me know if I need to tell her to go away.” Rosie tells me. I nod and she heads over to the other side of the bar, striking up a conversations with the man at the end.
“I’m surprised you didn’t know that’s their slogan.” The woman, Hannah, says. “It’s pretty popular. They have signs everywhere.”
“I don’t really drink that much.” I admit. “Just a couple beers here and there.”
It’s partially true. I usually get forced to go out with some of the other single guys on the team and they make me drink more. They like to party and get drunk and fuck girls whenever they can. It’s fun, but not really my style.
“I didn’t actually introduce myself. I’m Hannah Drowns.” She says, sticking out her hand.
“Chris Kunitz.” I say, taking it into mine.
“Well, Chris, it’s nice to meet you. What brings you here tonight? I’ve never seen you around before.”
That’s strange. She didn’t react to me at all. I mean, like I said- I’m not Sidney Crosby. But most people in Pittsburgh at least recognize my name.
“Just wanted to get away for a little bit.” I say vaguely.
“That’s the typical textbook answer. Now tell me the truth.” She says.
I’m not really sure why I’m talking to this girl. She’s blunt and I have a feeling she has no filter. She certainly isn’t like any woman I’ve ever talked to before. But she intrigues me.
“My teammates are getting on my ass about partying with them every night. I’m not really interested, but they force me. I told them I already had plans for tonight so I didn’t have to go out with them. Unfortunately, one of them is also my roommate, so I had to go somewhere.” I say honestly.
“Teammates?” She asks. Wow, she really doesn’t know who I am.
“Hannah, don’t pry.” Rosie says, coming from nowhere. “Do you want another, dear?” She asks me, pointing to my empty glass.
“Um, sure I guess. Thanks.” I respond. She takes my glass and begins refilling it.
“I’m not prying. We’re just having a conversation. Getting to know one another.” Hannah says, glaring at her aunt.
“It’s okay. I play for the Penguins.” I say to her. She scrunches up her face like she’s trying to think for a second.
“That’s the hockey team, right?” She asks. “Aunt Rosie, you like them?”
“Yes, dear.” Rosie says. “I do like them.” She gives me a small smile and a wink before setting down my glass.
“So you’re a professional athlete.” Hannah says bluntly.
“Um, yeah.” I respond.
“Hm. I wouldn’t have guessed that one. I pegged you as a lawyer of some sort. With maybe an exercise addiction.”
I chuckle at that.
“I was a terrible student. I would have never made it through law school.”
I take a long sip of my beer and stare at the intriguing woman in front of me.
“So you’re a professional hockey player who essentially works with a bunch of party animals. But you don’t like partying, so you’re here to escape them.” She says.
“Pretty much.” I reply.
“Question. Do you get a lot of ass?”
I choke on the beer currently sliding down my throat and look at her with wide eyes.
“It’s a valid question. I mean, I know there are a lot of girls out there who would sell their soul just to sit on a professional athlete’s cock.”
I feel myself turning red. Damn, I was right. She doesn’t have a filter at all.
“Um, yeah I guess. My teammates get more, but there are girls who want to sleep with me.” I respond, trying to simmer down the heat that has risen to my face.
“So why aren’t you with any of them tonight?” She asks. I look at her, wondering if she’s actually being serious right now. She gives me a questioning look and I realize she really wants to know.
“Those kinds of girls aren’t really my type.” I respond carefully. “They’re usually only after a one-night stand, just to say they’ve slept with me. Or if they’re looking for a relationship, it’s only so they can have the perks of dating an athlete. You know, the paychecks and people knowing their names...”
“And good sex.” She says, blatantly. I’m less surprised by her bluntness this time, but I still feel my face get pink. “I mean, come on. With a body that looks as good as yours? You can’t tell me you’re not amazing in the sack.”
“I-uh.... I mean, I don’t know.” I stumble.
“Well what have your previous encounters said afterwards?” She asks.
“This is getting really personal.” I state.
“Too personal? I can back off. You just make me very curious.” She responds.
I look into her light blue eyes and I can feel myself wanting to divulge all my deepest darkest secrets with this complete stranger. And in return, something inside me really wants her to divulge all of hers to me.
“Do people always share their entire lives with you right after you’ve met them?” I ask.
“Sometimes. When I’m interested, I ask questions. And people usually answer my questions.” She responds.
“Fine. I’ll answer your question if you’ll answer it as well.” I declare.
“You want me to tell you about my sex life?” She asks.
“You want me to tell you about mine.” I point out.
“Okay. I’ve slept with three men in my lifetime. My first was my older brother’s best friend. He’s the year between us, and when Joe left for college we started spending a lot of time together. One day it kinda just happened. Then it happened twice more after that. They were all mistakes, but I don’t regret them. He said he enjoyed it, but since he was basically another brother to me, it was weird. The other two were two of my ex-boyfriends. They both said it was good. But then again they both kinda sucked. Neither of them were really adventurous, and both had kinda small dicks.”
When she’s done, she looks at me expectantly. I guess if she just spilled her sex history, I can too.
“Two.” I say.
“Two?” She clarifies.
“My first was a girl who I had a huge crush on in high school. She was in love with another guy and he dumped her at the Homecoming dance my junior year. He was a senior and played for a rival hockey team of mine. So to get back at him, she slept with me.” I can see the pity on her face when I look at her. “My second was my ex-girlfriend, who I almost proposed to last year. We were together three years, and I thought she was the one. But then we came home early from a road trip and I found her fucking our neighbor in my bed.” She gasps. “Yeah. He’s married, too.” With that, I drain the rest of my glass and place it on the bar in front of me.
“You have really shitty taste in women.” She says. I laugh.
“Oh, I know.” I respond. “All those reasons I said women normally want to date us? Those were the reasons why she was with me. Money, fame-”
“And great sex.” She interjects.
“Yeah, and great sex.” I smile.
“So you’ve never had a one night stand?” She asks.
“Nope. My teammates think I have, because there was one time when I almost did. But I didn’t go through with it. It’s just not the kind of guy I am.” I admit.
“That’s a shame. I would totally fuck you for one night.”
This time, my jaw practically drops to the floor.
“Wh-What?”
“I would take you home and fuck you. You have an impeccable body, and I’m sure you’re packing some serious heat under those jeans. You’re clearly strong, so we could try some... interesting shit. But that’s okay, it’s not who you are.”
I just stare at her, mouth wide open. She giggles.
“Look, I’m just being honest. That’s what friends do.”
“We’re friends?” I ask, finding my voice.
“Sure, why not?” She asks in response. “You seem like a really cool guy. I could totally see us kicking back and enjoying a beer together every once in a while.” I sit there and think about what she just said. She would be okay just being friends with me. She had no idea who I am, so she clearly doesn’t want me for my money or fame. She isn’t interested in Chris Kunitz, the Pittsburgh Penguins’ assistant captain. She’s just interested in Chris, the guy she met at the bar.
“You’re definitely something else.” I finally say, shaking my head.
“Does that mean we’re friends?” She asks.
“Sure.” I laugh.
“Good, because I’m going to need a friend to walk me home.”
I look at her, questioningly.
“My car is being worked on and Aunt Rosie doesn’t want me walking home alone. She says it’s too dangerous, even though I have pepper spray in my purse. That’s why I’ve been hanging out here. But she doesn’t get done for another couple hours, and I really want to go home sooner than that.”
“So you’re using me to get home early?” I ask with a small smile on my lips.
“Friends use each other for that kind of stuff.” She says, patting my arm.
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the pervious conversation topics, or a combination of both, but my arm feels like it’s on fire where she touched me. It’s like that simple gesture sparked something in me, and suddenly I’m feeling very bold and adventurous.
“I could just take you back to my place.” I say suggestively. Her eyes twinkle slightly.
“I thought you said you’re not that kind of guy.” She purrs.
“Maybe I’m looking to change.” I whisper, running my fingers along her thigh.
“Aunt Rosie, Chris is ready to close out his tab.” She calls to the other side of the bar.
Rosie comes over and takes my credit card from my hand. I hardly process signing the receipt when Hannah gently starts grazing her fingers on my lower back. What is it about this girl that makes me want to throw everything I have ever been out the window and go crazy?
“Chris is going to drive me home, so you don’t have to worry about me.” Hannah says.
“Okay. Be safe.” Rosie responds.
Without further notice, Hannah and I are practically pulling each other out the door and towards my car. I open the door for her and she hops in. I rush around to my side and suddenly we’re flying through the streets of Pittsburgh towards my house. Her hand starts creeping up my thigh. I’m already half hard and I’m praying that she doesn’t distract me enough to cause a car accident. The PR people would have my head for that.
As soon as we get into my garage, I throw my car into park and rush around to open her door. I don’t even allow her the opportunity to get out as I pick her up in my arms and sprint for the door. Her hands begin working to undo the buttons on my shirt and she starts leaving a trail of wet kisses down my neck. I shudder when she reaches the spot right below my Adam’s apple and she nips at it, sending my brain into a fog for a second. I take the steps upstairs two at a time and practically break down the door to my bedroom.
Hannah slips out of my arms and begins shimmying out of her jeans as I undo my belt buckle and stare at the perfect round ass she had been hiding from me. As we continue shedding our clothes, her eyes graze over my room quickly and they land on the medal on my dresser.

“You’re an Olympic gold medalist?” She asks, taking off the last of her clothes.
“Yeah.” I shrug, dropping my boxers.
“That’s so sexy.” She moans. I’m not sure if she means my gold medal or my cock, but I push her towards the bed and she climbs up. She spreads her legs and I settle between them, prodding her entrance with my tip. “When we’re ready for round two, you’re totally fucking me while wearing it.” She says, biting her lip.
‘Fuck, this girl is going to wear me out tonight.’ I think happily.
“Whatever you want.” I say before bringing our bodies together in one strong thrust.

Notes

Requested. Hope you like it!