"So, um, I guess this kind of explains Violet's aversion to weddings, huh?" Randy asks.
That she's agreed to any kind of actual ceremony with people in attendance is a true miracle.
I clear my throat. "I think it goes without saying that this stays under the cone."
There's murmured agreement and some uncomfortable shifting around.
I definitely need to get my mom to back off. I wait until Darren and I are in his car before I call my mom and gently, but firmly, tell her to stop looking for alternate venues, because the Chicago cottage is where Violet and I are getting married.
She might be disappointed, but she agrees to cease with the texting torture. At least that's one issue resolved.
-&-
The next few weeks are full of PT, training, and planning the wedding. I gain a lot of ground, though I still don't get to be on the ice with the rest of the team for games. And we don't make it past the first round of playoffs. It's a challenge to watch my teammates beat themselves up over the loss, especially when we were on such a high last year.
Ultimately, I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing. We'll have a longer off-season, with more time to recuperate and train. I'm trying to see the positive in the situation.
My ongoing issue once again has to do with my mom and her wedding interference. She's switched tactics from alternate venues to expanding the guest list, two "very important friends" at a time. Every other day she sends me another message asking if so and so can be added to the list.
I shut her down, and then Violet feels bad for making me be the bad guy and ends up texting her back to say yes. On the up side, I've gotten a lot of blow jobs in the past few weeks. However, I have guilt over them, so I always return the favor with some kind of orgasm.
Today I get a text from my mom with yet another guest-addition request as I'm walking in the door after a particularly intense physical therapy session.
I don't know if I should even bother to say anything to Violet about it as I text my mom back with a no. I find Violet on the couch with her Mac in her lap. At first I assume she's doing something work-related, although usually she does that in her office. Maybe she needed a change of scenery.
She must be engrossed in her research, because she bursts into a fit of laughter, punctuated by a snort.
"Whatcha doin'?"
She looks up from the screen. "You need to see this!"
I sit beside her, ready to be entertained by whatever's on the screen. It's not what I expect.
"Uh … why am I looking at someone's dick? And why does it have a face on it?"
Violet rolls her eyes. "Seriously? You watch internet porn all the time."
"No, I don't." I watch it occasionally, especially when I'm away from home and don't have access to Violet-usually in the bathroom with headphones on while I'm pretending to take an extra-long shower.
"Lies. I see your browser history. You need to stop with the Area 51 porn. It's never going to happen."
It's my turn with the wide eyes. I always clear my browser history.
Violet shakes her head. "So transparent. Anyway, check this out! I was looking for costume designs for the Super MC, and I found this." She points to the smiley-faced dick. "This guy draws a face on his dick-and arms and stuff-and puts it in scenarios. And now he's started dressing him up! People make his dick clothes, just like I made yours a cape!"
"And a Christmas costume; don't forget that."
"That was so much fun. Don't worry, I have something special planned for the wedding night."
"I'm sure that part will be awesome." I drape my arm over the back of the couch and slip my hand under her hair.
"Oh, it will. No accidental suffocation. Anyway, this guy has all sorts of chicks sending him stuff, and look at how tiny his doodle is!" Violet points to the screen.
"I don't think it's fair to call it tiny."
"He's hard."
"I think maybe your perspective is skewed because of my dick."
She shrugs. "You may have a point. I hope he's good with his tongue. Anyway, check this out." She scrolls through page after page of some guy's dick doing ridiculous things.
"Why are you showing me this?"
"We should do it with Super MC! Imagine how much more exciting it would be with your huge dick."
"I'm not posting dressed-up dick pics on the internet, Violet."
"Well, can I at least make a photo album?"
"Of my dick?"
"It'll be fun."
"You're crazy."
"That's why you love me." She closes the laptop and moves it to the coffee table, then straddles my lap. I take her glasses off, set them on the arm of the couch, and pull the tie from her hair, setting it free. It tumbles over her shoulders in loose waves.
"We could start now." She searches my pocket for my phone. "Did you know Balls and Lily make videos?"
"Pardon?"
"Randy and Lily. They make videos so he has something to jack off to when he's gone for away games."
"What kind of videos?"
Violet arches a brow. "What kind do you think?"
"How do you know that?" I seriously hope she hasn't seen one.
"She told me. And she showed me one."
"She showed you a sex video?"
"We might overshare a lot of information, but not that much, Alex. He made a video that time he came to Guelph to see her. She'd fallen asleep on him, and I guess part of the deal was no sleeping, so he videoed her."
"He made a video of Lily while she was sleeping?"
"Don't say it like that. It's not creepy. It was sweet and kinda hot." Violet gets this faraway look in her eye before she shakes her head. "Anyway, he made a video of him waking her up."
"I don't understand why that's hot or what it has to do with sex videos."
"Well, he was waking her up to have sex again. And it ends on a kiss." She flutters a hand in front of her face. "Anyway, we should make some videos like that."
"I don't think we should use your phone if we do, since you've lost two in the past year."
"We could use your phone since you don't lose yours."
"We could." I'm totally down with making sex videos with Violet. I'll have to watch them wearing headphones since she's exuberant in bed, but I can live with that. I would love to make a video of me sliding my dick between her tits.
Just as I'm about to suggest this, my phone lights up in her hand.
Based on the way her face falls, I'm betting it's another text from my mom. "Let me guess, two more guests?" I skim her sides until I reach the hem of her shirt. "I already told her no."
"What are we up to now?"
"Sixty-eight."
"Might as well make it an even seventy."
I slip one hand under her shirt and grab the phone before she can key in the code and respond. "We're not going to deal with that right now."
"She'll start texting me soon, and you know it."
"So let her text." I push Violet's shirt up until a boob pops out. She's wearing black lace. She doesn't own a lot of black lingerie, so when she wears it I get super excited. I don't know why. It does something to me-just like when she wears her Marvel Comics underwear.
My phone beeps again. I press my face into her cleavage and sigh.
She runs her hands through my hair, and I feel her chin on top of my head. "Just message her back, Alex." Her resignation fuels my determination.
"Fuck that." I flick the clasp on her bra and lay her out on the couch. "She can wait."
Violet grins. "Okay."
Kneeling between her thighs, I pull down her leggings and panties. "Leggings are the best."
"Totally the best," Violet agrees.
Then I lower my head and lick her until she comes. And then I make her come one more time with my fingers and my tongue just because I can, and I want to. Couch sex isn't as easy as bed sex, but it's fun, and we clearly both need it. We also totally forget to get it on video.
"It's a good thing this couch is leather," Violet says into my neck. I'm still lying on top of her, because moving means making a mess.
"It's also a good thing the cleaning lady is coming tomorrow. I'll leave out the leather conditioner for her."
"I bet she knows we have the sex on here. I wonder if she fantasizes about it."
"She's in her fifties."
"All the more reason to fantasize about what it must be like to get boned by a superhot, giant-dicked hockey player."
I snort and then groan when my phone beeps again. "Why won't she stop?"
"She can't help herself, Alex. It's frustrating, but I get it. You're her Stanley Cup. She wants everyone to be there when she gives you away."