pennyf



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    Harris’s gaze came to rest on the son. His breath caught in his throat. The boy was stunning. Tall for his age but slender, with delicate features and dark, curling hair. He blinked his doe eyes up at Harris, and his cheeks tinged with a pink blush.

    Perhaps what this family had to offer was not financial after all.

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    27 Jun 2026

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    No serious hockey fan or sports commentator worth their salt would have considered record-breaking Boston superstar Ilya Rozanov to be Shane Hollander’s rival exactly, but sleeping with a man who had a specific offense-related vendetta against him and a wrist shot like a jet engine to back it up was probably ill-advised just the same.

    Or, Shane is a goalie. Ilya can’t score.

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    26 Jun 2026

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    Atlas is first to follow the sweet musky scent lower, snuffling at his spread thighs before ducking under the one on his side and finding the pink, slippery heat between his boy’s legs.

    Licking curiously, the older dog woofs under his breath and inhales deeply, nose sliding up Isaiah’s pussy lips as he gets a good lungful of boy sweat and slick.

    Isaiah gasps so hard at the cold touch he nearly chokes on his gag, hips bucking to get away from the dog, but he can’t move, can’t even close his legs with the ropes keeping him open. Another big lick up over his hole, the silky wet tongue making him squirm as the dog baths his sore, itchy clit with happy drags of his soft tongue.

    His throat is vibrating with how hard he’s moaning, his voice going high and desperate as Harley ducks under his other thigh and comes to see what Atlas has found. There’s a brief growl but then there are two big tongues slurping at Isaiah’s cunt, making his eyes roll back in his head.

    A series of more insistent licks sends a shiver up his spine and Isaiah is helpless to do more than lay there and take it as Atlas builds up to an eager, thirsty pace, lapping up each new trickle of slick with loud, sloppy sounds.

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    17 May 2026

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    “You haven’t called me for a while.”

    Draco shrugs, holding his head up high. “Yes. And?”

    “And. I know exactly what that means.”

    Draco raises a single brow, blinking slowly. He looks unimpressed. “It means I’ve forgotten you exist. It means I’m completely and utterly over you, no matter how much your overinflated ego tries to convince you otherwise. It means — ”

    “It means you haven’t been properly fucked in ages.”

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    17 May 2026

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    “What is there to talk about?”

    “What’s there to talk about?!” Hollander scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re playing for my fucking team!”

    “I know.”

    “Why did you have to go and get traded?! You realise we’re going to have to see each other every day from now on, and play together, and-”

    “Yes,” Ilya interrupted. He didn’t want to know how long Hollander’s list was. “I know.”

    Hollander took a deep breath. “Okay, listen,” he said. “Just so we’re clear - we don’t know each other outside of playing against each other, right?”

    “Right.”

    “And we can’t- can’t hook up anymore.”

    ~

    OR: Ilya gets traded to Montreal in October 2014. He's lonely, and angry, and he misses Boston. He doesn't know if it helps that Hollander is there or not.

    title from Buckle by Florence and the Machine

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    16 May 2026