Two Minute Penalties
by be287m

--Game Four-- 

I was too distracted all day Tuesday.  I barely got anything done at work.  Finally I called Sandy.

“I really need to talk, meet me after work?” I pleaded.

“Sure thing!” she replied.  She was as solid in our friendship as she was in the goal.

Sandy sensed my confusion the moment I walked in the door.

“What’s wrong Liz?” she asked.

“It’s Steve and this stupid bet!” I burst out.  She nodded her head in sympathy.

“You looked like you were enjoying it Saturday.  What happened?”

I took a deep breath.  Would I be violating Steve’s confidence?  I wasn’t sure.  I decided to go ahead.

“Last night he told me he was into BDSM.”

“Was, past tense,” Sandy replied.  What?  That was her response?  Then I realized why.

“You knew.”

She shrugged her shoulders and had the decency to look guilty.  “Not BDSM specifically, but I’m not surprised,” she said.

I glared at her.  “Okay, spill it!” I demanded.  Sandy sighed but nodded her head.

“I’m going to have to forfeit my bet with Pete, but okay.”

“I noticed Steve was interested in you a while ago,” she began.  “But he didn’t seem to be doing anything about it.  Finally I asked Pete about him.  Pete said that Steve had gotten cautious after getting burned a handful of times.  Apparently something happened when Steve was a teenager that gave him a lot more sexual experience than the average guy.  Not just regular sex, but all sorts of kinky stuff too.  Pete didn’t say what.”

“It seems all that experience backfired on him.  Sure the girls liked it at first, but when they found out about some of the stuff he’d done, they dumped him.”

“Ran away screaming,” I said.

“Exactly,” Sandy continued, “Pete says Steve tried meeting women in the kinky communities, which obviously would be the BDSM club.”  I nodded my head to acknowledge her observation.

“The problem with that was,” she said, “that Steve wasn’t kinky enough for those women.  Or else they’d have other problems.  So he got burned again.”

I let out a deep breath.  Thank god.  At least my worst fears were unlikely to be true.  I realized that Steve was much simpler to understand than I’d thought.

“So,” I said, “Steve hasn’t met the right woman yet.”  Sandy flashed me a huge grin.

“That’s what I said.  I told Pete that you wouldn’t run.  He wasn’t so sure.  Hence the bet.”

“I still may run, Sandy.  I still don’t know him very well.”  She looked disappointed.  I decided to change the subject a little.

“So, what are the stakes with Pete?” I asked.

Sandy grinned mischievously.  “Pete and I have been flirting since the second game.  We decided we wouldn’t go out until the end of the season because we were concerned about team chemistry.”

“Team chemistry?”

“We were worried about what the news that we were dating would do to the team.  The team was still gelling, and a lot of the new guys hadn’t accepted me as their goalie yet.  We decided we could wait.”

“Though I must tell you,” she admitted, grinning through the rising blush, “the *teasing* has been agony.  It’s been like months of foreplay!”

“Oh, you love it!”

“Yeah,” she admitted.  She paused, imagining some reverie she chose not to share.

“So the stakes?” I prodded.

“Oh, decidedly X-rated,” she mused.

“So you’re going to get sexual favors if I hook up with Steve.”  I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at this turn of events.

“It’s not much different than your bet!” she shot back.

My bet.  Shit.  I still didn’t know what to think about my bet with Steve.  I had agreed to two minutes of anything.  If he had a lot of experience like Sandy said, “anything” could include . . . well, anything.

Sandy let me sit and stew for a minute before she reached over and gently touched my hand.

“Liz, he’s a great guy.  Give him a chance.  At least talk to him at tomorrow’s game before you run away from him.”

I nodded.  She was right.  I couldn’t wait for Detroit to lose.  I need to know more now.

But then Detroit did lose!  I started to get really excited, but then remembered I’d gotten my story yesterday.  Well, at least I wouldn’t have to pay up another four minutes!  But . . . maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.  Enjoyable even.

Who was I kidding?  Detroit losing was *always* a good thing!

I teased Steve about it as soon as I saw him the next night.

“Not going to have any problem with Calgary, huh?  What was that you were saying?  Not going to choke like my Avs?”

He grinned and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.  His smile was warm and playful and I couldn’t help but grin back.

“What can I say?” Steve said.  “Even the Wings can’t triumph all the time.  Maybe we should see if they want Sandy in goal.”  He feigned the most innocent naïve expression with that last comment that I couldn’t help but crack up laughing.

“Well hopefully she’ll be as hot tonight as Calgary was!”  Steve nodded his head in agreement and then we were off talking about the details of last night’s game, Sandy’s last game, and what we thought would happen tonight.

We were talking hockey.  Just like we had done all season.  It felt really good.

Sandy was once again fantastic.  This time she got some help from her defenders.  She easily blocked all 10 shots the first period, including one stop where she practically plucked the puck out of the air with the ease of an infielder snagging a line drive.  Pete was on fire too, getting a goal and an assist in what had the makings of a rout.  They ended up ahead 3-0 at the first intermission and the excitement in the stands was contagious.

Meanwhile, the Avs game had started a while ago.  I turned up my portable radio just enough for Steve and I to both listen and he smiled at me in appreciation.

The Avs game turned out to be a nail biter.  The first period was tight and the Avs got a lot of good shots in the second, but nothing went in.  Nabokov even made a save while on his back!  Steve seemed as tense as I was, but was graciously not commenting.  Instead we cheered and yelled for Sandy and Pete.

Their game was going well.  Their opponents got it together during the second period and were able to shut down Pete and the rest of the offense, but they still couldn’t get anything by Sandy.  The second period ended with the same 3-0 score.

Sandy finally missed one in the third during a power play.  It didn’t matter though, as her offense had figured out the new defense and gotten two goals, leading to a score of 5-1.

Meanwhile, Nabokov also continued to be brilliant in stopping the Avs.  Of course, he also got lucky!  The Avs had two shots hit the crossbar.  They also couldn’t score on a power play for anything!  Not even at the beginning of overtime!

I was going crazy with each missed shot.  Steve stopped looking tense and just looked more and more amused.  It was actually really sweet—a Red Wings fan not rubbing it in.  How rare was that?  I couldn’t help smiling at him.

Then Sakic finally scored and I let out a loud “Yes!”  The people around us looked startled—they were waiting for a faceoff in the game in front of us.

“Avs just won!”  I announced.  There were general cheers, which were repeated louder a few minutes later when the clock ran out and Sandy’s team all hit the ice to celebrate their victory.

Afterwards, Steve walked me to the women’s locker room door.  There he stopped and faced me.

“So, are we on for Saturday?” he asked.  There was a touch of nervousness in his voice.

I hung my head for a moment.  Sandy had said I should talk to him.  Now was the time.

“Steve, can we talk a little?  Before I answer that?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said.  His confidence was back.  He shoved the door open.

“Hey Sandy!” he yelled.  “Can I come in?”

“Sure!” she hollered back.  “Just don’t peek!”  

We both chuckled at that and Steve followed me into the locker room.  We chose a bench away from Sandy’s gear so she’d have some privacy when she got out of the shower.  Once we got settled, Steve got a serious look on his face.

“What would you like to talk about, Liz?”

I let out a deep breath.  “I talked to Sandy,” I began, “I hope that’s all right!”

He nodded.  “And you found she knew already.”  Huh?  Steve noticed my confusion and continued.

“She called Pete last night and said that she had to forfeit their bet.  He came and told me about it right after.  I don’t mind him telling Sandy about my past, but I’m not real happy about him betting against me.”

“He was betting against me,” I interjected.

“Well, frankly, I hope he loses,” Steve said.  Oh my.

“Will you tell me about this past?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and then nodded his head.

“Sure,” he said.  He stared into space for a few moments, and then turned to meet my eyes.

“When I was fourteen, we got a new neighbor.  She moved away when I was seventeen,” Steve began.  

“Katherine was in her late thirties, lived alone and was very beautiful.  She was also incredibly friendly and soon the object of my fantasies as well as every other boy in the neighborhood.  She quickly made friends with my parents and she’d come over a couple of times during the summer for cookouts and such.  She seemed to take a liking to me, which only fueled my fantasies even more.”

“When I was sixteen, she seduced me.  Every young boy’s fantasy right?  The beautiful older woman initiates you into sex.  Yeah.  Right.”

“We ended up getting together three or four times a week in the afternoons before my parents got home.  She must have imagined herself as some sort of Henry Higgins because she was constantly in ‘teacher mode.’  She loved the way I ‘took to my lessons’ and frankly I got into them as well.  What sixteen year old wouldn’t?  It was all the sex I could ever want!”

“Of course, she started with the basics, but over the course of the year she taught me more and more.  First some mildly kinky things.  Then stuff that was a little harder, like the BDSM.  Finally some really hardcore shit.”

I shuddered.  But I couldn’t stop from asking.

“Like what?” I asked.  He looked away and took a deep breath.  He was raw.  More naked in this moment than I’d ever seen him.  After a few seconds, he looked back, again set and determined.

“If it’s consensual, I’ve done it.  Bondage, dominance, watersports, scat, you name it.  If two consenting adults can do it, we did it.”

“You weren’t an adult,” I pointed out.

“The age of consent in Michigan is sixteen,” he retorted.

“But still. . . .”

“We make our choices, Liz.  Sometimes they’re the wrong ones.  Sometimes they’re the right ones.  Sometimes they have repercussions long after we’ve made them.  I’ve long since accepted the choices I made with Katherine.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.  We sat in silence, me idly shuffling my feet while he studied the far locker room wall.

“So how much of that stuff do you still want to do?” I finally asked.

He gave a rueful smile.  “It’s not the acts, it’s the people.”  I shot him a questioning look.

“A simple blowjob, between two people who are using each other, is a horrible thing,” he said.  “The kinkiest act imaginable, between two people who care about each other and are deeply connected, that’s heaven.  Katherine taught me all the acts.  But what she was really teaching me is how much I need that connection.”

“Oh.”  Could we have that connection?  I knew I wanted it.  At least I wanted it in my life.  Could I have it with Steve?

“I still want to get to know you,” I said.

“What is there left to know?” he asked, exasperated.  “I’ve told you about my job and my family and the big secret of my past.  What else do you want to know?”

I just shook my head.  I couldn’t come up with an answer.  This was going downhill fast.

Steve seemed to sense that too.  He reached out and gently took my hand and squeezed it.  I looked at his hand clasping mine and then up into his eyes.  He gave me a warm reassuring smile.  I gave a small smile back.  His smile turned into a grin.

“Stand up!” he suddenly exclaimed, jumping up and then tugging me to my feet.

“Why???”

“Trust me on this,” he replied.  Well, okay, I was already standing.

“Now close your eyes,” he said.  I glared at him.  No.

“Okay, I’ll close mine!” he announced.  And then he did!

Steve took my hand in his and then gently raised it to his own cheek.  He lightly pressed my fingertips to his flesh.

“This is me, Liz,” he said quietly.  “I got to know you well when I touched you Saturday.  Now it’s your turn.”  He guided my hand across his cheek to his nose.

“This bump is from when I broke my nose when I was six.  I was playing Captain Marvel and trying to jump over a low wall.  I didn’t make it.”  He nudged my fingers over to his ear.

“I’ve always thought my ears were a little large, but they seem to have a mind of their own.”  Then he wiggled them and I couldn’t help laughing.

“They’re also very sensitive.  Press down a little and run your finger along the outside.”  I did as he asked, starting to get caught up in the game.

“Mmmm.  Feels good to have you touch me, Liz.”  He then took my hand and slid it to the back of his head.  In order to reach, I stepped in closer and could feel his breath on my neck and shoulder.

“This is why I can’t cut my hair too short,” he said, as I caressed the curve of his skull.  “It sticks straight out if I do.”  I let my fingers play with his hair for a little while as we stood inches apart.

“Now,” he said, “Slowly slide your hand down my back.”  I began to comply, leaning in a little further.  I bumped into him and Steve wrapped an arm around me.  I paused.

Steve just held me, lightly yet firmly.  I could feel his warmth and the strength of his arms.  I started to relax into him.  He was right.  This was a great way to get to know him.  I almost started snuggling, it felt so good to be held by him.

“Go on,” he murmured.

My arm was free enough for me to begin sliding my hand down his spine.  I made it a gentle caress.

“Stop,” Steve said.  I had trailed to just above the small of his back.  “Back up an inch.  There.”  I could feel a knot beneath my fingers.  I began pressing in, massaging it.

“Mmmm.  That feels good,” he said.  “That’s where I carry my tension.”

“Are you tense now?”

“Only in a good way.”  I smiled at him.  He was grinning, though his eyes were still closed.

“My feet,” he whispered, then slowly released me from his arms.  Somewhat reluctantly, I crouched down, and then settled onto my knees.  I placed my hands on his shoes.

“My right ankle,” he began.  I clasped it gently in both hands.  “I broke it when I was 12, ending a promising youth hockey career.”  He seemed to find that fact ironic, but didn’t explain.

“Go ahead and move your hands up.”  I started sliding them up his leg.

“I twisted my right knee skiing two years ago.  Fortunately, it wasn’t serious,” he said.  I caressed the creases around his kneecap, feeling every millimeter.  Then I slowly moved to his thigh.

“Now my thighs,” he chuckled, “those I’m proud of.  Strong.  Powerful.  Really good thighs.  Everyone should have thighs like me!”  I laughed at this silliness.  I gave his strong, powerful, really good thighs a good squeeze and rubbed them up and down.

On an upstroke, the back of my hand brushed his crotch and I froze.  I just sat there, one hand high on his inner thigh, staring at the bulge in his jeans.  Oh my.  How had we gotten here?

I glanced up.  Steve had opened his eyes and was smiling down at me.  My eyes returned to his cock.  He definitely had a nice package.  When I looked back up, Steve was still grinning.

“You can if you want,” he murmured.  Oh, I wanted.

I lightly ran my fingertips over the top of his jeans.  Steve let out a small gasp as I traced his cock through the material.  I slowly spread my fingers, feeling all of him.  His breathing had quickened.  I could feel him getting harder under my touch.

“Ahem!”

I whirled around to see Sandy leaning against a locker, grinning madly.

“Shouldn’t you two wait until Saturday?” she teased.  Steve laughed and I just blushed as I got to my feet.

“Oh, a lot more than this will happen on Saturday night!” Steve exclaimed.  I’m sure my blush was turning even redder, but Steve reached over and squeezed my hand before I could say anything.

“Oh goodie!” Sandy exclaimed.  “Maybe Pete will pay up anyway!”  Steve and I both laughed, joining her merriment.  Sandy grabbed her stuff and we all headed towards the door.

When we got to the rink exit, Steve took both my hands in his.

“I take it dinner is still on?” he asked.  I just smiled.

“Good,” he said.

Then he took me into his arms and kissed me.  Oh gawd.  I just melted.  Did I mention Steve could kiss?  My knees were jelly by the time he released me.

“After all,” he drawled, “you owe me four minutes.  Six if the Avs lose Saturday afternoon.  Anything I want.”  His eyes were twinkling.

“They’re not going to lose Saturday,” I told him.

“Care to increase the stakes then?”

I took a deep breath.  Yeah, Sandy was right.  Steve was fundamentally a great guy.  But was I really ready for ‘anything’?

I had an idea.

“Okay,” I said.  “We can increase the stakes to four minutes for the next Avs game.  As long as we also increase the stakes on the remaining Red Wings games.”

“To?” he asked.

“Two minutes every time they lose.  You do anything *I* want.”  Steve laughed.

“It’s a bet!”

Steve started to head towards his car.  He called back over his shoulder.

“I’m looking forward to the next game!”

So was I.

--End Game Four-- 
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