Page 21 of Icing on the Cake

When he bent over to pick it up, I swear, time stood still. The fabric stretched to its limit, seams screaming in protest as they fought valiantly to maintain structural integrity. A hush fell over the classroom—or so it seemed—as everyone (okay, probably only me) held their breath, wondering if this would be the day that Gerard’s jeans finally met their match.

Inch by tantalizing inch, the denim stretched outward from the crevice of Gerard’s ass crack, straining…straining…until finally, mercifully, his fingers closed around the pencil, and he straightened back up. The jeans remained intact but were forever changed by the experience.As was I.

You better believe that not only did I never skip that class, but I always snagged the same seat right behind Gerard—in case lightning decided to strike twice. Because there are few things in this world more awe-inspiring than watching Gerard Gunnarson’s jeans struggle to contain the magnificence of his hockey butt.

2. Sweatpants

The champs of casual comfort. If you ever see Gerard in a pair of gray cotton, do yourself a favor and observe how the soft fabric molds to Gerard’s buns.

The real magic happens, though, when he moves in those sweats. With every step, the fabric rides up…and up…and up until they’re lodged so deep in Gerard’s crack that they practically split his cheeks the way Moses parted the Red Sea.

And the most amazing part? Gerard is utterly oblivious to the effect his sweatpants-clad ass has on those around him. He goes about his business, striding across campus with purposeful intent,while behind him, his wedgied ass cheeks put on a show that would make the Chippendales weep with envy.

3. Shorts

I know it’s a long way off, but warm weather is God’s gift to us puck bunnies. When that time of year is upon us again, watch Gerard’s already scandalously short shorts creep up his tree trunk thighs and reveal the barest hint of untanned cheek.

It’s a beautiful sight, especially when Gerard bends over to tie his shoe or pick up a dropped textbook. Because bam! Hello, butt cheeks!

Feel free to drop in the comments your thoughts on Gerard’s ass, pictures you’ve sneakily taken of all the junk in his trunk, and your guesses for who’ll be the first to see what lies beneath.

I would love it if we could all unite and share our love for Gerard’s plump rump.

Until next time.

Ice Queen skating off!

5

GERARD

Here’s the skinny. I know when someone is checking me out. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and my body buzzes with delight.

When I walked away from Elliot at the library, the signs were all there. His eyes were on my butt the way my eyes are on a rotisserie chicken at the supermarket.

I don’t blame the dude. My butt is, without a doubt, the best and biggest on the entire campus. Oliver’s is probably the second best and biggest, but don’t tell him I said that. He’d make me clean the toilets for the rest of the semester.

Having my butt ogled doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it always makes me giggle. I’ve stared at butts myself, so I understand the appeal. And if it were any other day, I wouldn’t think twice about it.

But for some reason, as soon as I step out of the library, I know something is up.

Eyes bore into me from every direction. People on their phones stop dead in their tracks and tell whoever is on the other end that they’ll have to call them back. Students texting find their thumbs hovering over their phone screens, twitching out of reflex.

I do my best not to look anyone in the eyebecause this isn’t the usual “let’s gawk at Gerard because he’s a mini-celebrity on campus.” They don’t want me to acknowledge them or stop for a selfie. They want me to keep walking so they can keep gawking.

Did Elliot send out a call to stare at my butt? Did someone else do that, and Elliot was only following orders?

I hurry past the giant water fountain outside the administration building, where a gaggle of girls are soaking up the sun. When they see me, their nipples harden into tight nubs beneath their shirts. I catch a few of them whispering and giggling, their eyes locked on my backside as I stride past.

The cool breeze wafting off the fountain must have made their nipples erect,I tell myself. It’s a chilly day, after all. But a small, insistent voice in the back of my mind suggests otherwise.

Maybe the sight of me and my sublime hockey butt is what caused their bodies to react in such a way.

Typically, a thought like that would send a thrill straight to my dick. Knowing that I can turn on a group of hot co-eds without even trying? Talk about an ego boost. But right now, even with all these eyes on me, my penis remains as limp and uninterested as an overcooked noodle.

I quicken my pace, weaving between gawking students and faculty members. The back of my neck prickles with awareness, like a thousand tiny fingers stroking my skin. I know they’re all staring at my butt, but I can’t figure out why.

Did I sit in something at the library? Did I rip my shorts when I bent down to pick up my hockey stick off the bathroom floor?That reminds me…I need to give it a Silkwood shower when I get back to the Hockey House.

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