Right Wing {FM DS}

I locked my door, and sat on the steps to put my skates on.  Lighting a smoke, I grabbed my bag, and pushed off.  Not much traffic yet, I could let it ride sideways behind me for most of the trip.  That let me balance enough to get a good power stroke in, with each leg, arms behind me to hold the stick for stability.

My legs warmed up, sweat prickling out as the sun started heating the air, and pavement.  It barley even started getting hot.  Ironic, this far south of any ice, even in winter, smack dab in the middle of summer.  Even the workers sleeping in on the saturday morning, maybe dashing out for some milk.

I swing by the convenience store for a 2 liter, and gatorade.  Right across the street from the park, it isn't too heavy, but I barely have enough hands to hold onto everything, and get to the park.  I set back, prop my skates up, have a smoke, and some caffeine.

I don't even finish the cigarette before more show up, drop the nets, and start skating up.  I help assemble one of the PVC frames, then dress out.  Somebody coughs, so I flick it off.  "Those things'll killya!"

"Yeah, well,"  I unzipped my hoody, "You need the handicap to keep up with me," so?

"Yeah, right!" he turns back, and goes to get his skates.  My socks are dried out, so I grab another shot of soda, and pull them on.  Watch the boys get started, practice skate, warm up.  Pulling to prevent any kink blisters, I set the tongue, and carefully clamp the straps.  Top, and bottom, I wriggle inside, and flex my heel.

"two, three,.." keep counting, the other team has some new guy on Right Wing, "We're a man down."  PUCK!  Our goalie turns back, syncopated to it rattling to a stop behind him.  Grant, easilly the best guy out here, his team just waiting for him to take a break so they get a chance to score without his assist.

Not my team, the other best player probably sleeping off whatever he was doing last night.  Coke, booze, pot, whatever.  He could apply himself, and be like Grant in a few years, smug bastard, but he parties too much, and don't practice enough.

And the puck drops, so I have to play.  He couldn't pass it back to me, so he loses, and Grant skates back to cover his wingman sweeping around with the puck.  I cut back to keep an eye on it, and screen the Goal for Grant.  Blocking a 1 timer, most of the goals come off him, or he gets the assist.

KLAK!  it ramps off to the corner, so I twist my skate in, and push off in an arc to follow.  Great, Grant cut inside my bank, and picks it up behind me.  He slows, changing direction, so I drop, shoulder forward, and knock his arm.  "Check!" he loses it, to the neutral zone, and our "center" picks it up.

Follow it back down, Grant crosses over, and I catch my breath.  One scoring chance down, try and break his hat trick streak.  Probably focuses so much on Hockey because he's so ugly.  Not smart enough to get to college, much less through it, can't get a date, so might as well come over to the park and humiliate us casual players.

Not even all that really good at it, he's just a big fish in a small pond.  Our scoring chance goes nowhere, so I head back to the bench.  Can't even get two whole teams, ever week, with enough for a reasonable rotation.  Already, "too fukin hot," I stuff my unsnapped pants in the duffel, and pull out the still cool Gatorade.

My next shift is on Wing.  I'd much rather hang back for Defense, it plays to my advantages.  They won't check me, so it's aways a stick battle at reach.  En passant, it's like the goalie has a king's 3 spaces in front of him, but I'm another king, closer to the center of the court.  Or something, I never get the puck in foreward, so time to go skate around some more.

That puts me in front of what's his nuts, the new guy, "What?" looking at me funny.  The puck drops, and we scramble.  Grant's looking tired, so he's finally sitting one out.  Right, wing, no left, "Damn it!"  Now he's open, and turning around with the puck.  I switch skate to a stop, and bend down, splaying my skates to roll backwards.

"Most girls don't like hockey," he grins, and tries to deek.  I carve around, skating as good as him backwards, and keep my eye on the puck.  Pushing down with my stick, I drag, almost to a stop, and poke-check for it when he gets here.  Dropping one skate back, I stop his stick with mine, and bring my shoulder pad up for him to roll into.

"Not most girls," the puck rolls behind me, and my defenseman snap passes it to center.  The charge takes off into a 2-on-1, and I catch up right before it goes in high, over their goalie's shoulder.

I earned another break, so I went back for another shot of soda, and to keep from dropping gloves right on the court.  Marked out for basketball, the neutral zone is imaginary, though we got a faceoff ring.  The crease, and goaly look tiny in the free throw lines, and there ain't no boards.  

Breath caught, Grant's back on, so I switch back on to running interference.  Left defense, to counter Right Wing, the new guy's back too, and wary.  So far, I had 2 out of the five hits this game by my count.  We don't do it a lot, on concrete, no boards, but some contact is inevitable, so we agree to try not to hurt each other.

Fortunately, that's interpreted as "Don't body-check the girl", and I don't have that problem.  Newguy catches the puck, right before I follow through to swing into him, he redirects to Grant, who of course skates it in, fresh as a spring daisy, for another goal.  Lets see, he usually takes 2 breaks in a game, so 1 more chance to break the hat-trick.

I ain't tired, so we face off again, and I rotate out to defense.  Picked to the other side, it passes to the wrong wingman, and I skate back to cover the advance.  Back in my comfort zone, I anticipate a cross pass, and veer into center quick enough to catch it at stick lenth, and skate up to them.  

Explosive charge, as fast as I can keep the puck with me, get through the center line, and...
"UgH!" skates go right out from under me, and we both hit the concrete.  I managed to get an elbow pad down, and sit the rest of the way up.  Grant passes it up to a screened slap shot for another goal.

"You ok?" we help each other up.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah," he turns to skate off, so I pat his hip pad.

The look back was priceless.

Good hit!  No way I'm sitting out, even though I'm burning up.  "All right!" dive back in to the fray.

Final score, 5-4, in "Overtime."  We managed to tie it up, and everyone was tired.  I was skating in zombie mode by then, so the next goal "wins."  Not that we kept score, officially.  Everone knew Grant always won.  Missed 1 practice, and we still managed to lose.  Sure enough!  One on 1, just beat the goaly, and stuffed it through the 5 hole, right between his pads.

I threw off my Jersey, gloves in it, and poured down the last of the Mtn Dew.  "Uagh!" disgusted, I just turned, dropped my hip pads, and set on the bench.  

"Good game!" Ignore it, pulling my skates through the baggy padded shorts.  "Uh, Joey, is it?"

"Jodi," I looked up, "Jodi Meyers."

"You're real aggressive," he grinned, "Out there!"

"Yeah?" in here too, "Thanks."   Next came my shoulder pads.  "Kind of gotto be ta get any Contact out there."  I need to learn to keep my mouth shut.

"You like the hits?" he didn't Stare, but definitely looked, a few times.  Spandex, top, and bottom, soaked to me with sweat.

"Or something," pull my jersey back on, "I never get the puck unless I take it, and nobody will challenge me, so yeah.  If I want to play, I pretty much have to do the checking."  Finish stuffing the bag, I'm out of drinks, but can get a refill on the Gatorade at the In&Out.

"So why Hockey?" fuck it, I decided to chuck the skates in, and started unlashing those.

"Idankow?" god it felt good to just let air in there, so I peeled out, and thought about going barefoot at least across the street.  "It's a great workout, and I get hang out with you guys, I guess?"  There's really no way to put it, so I don't say.  "Ah!" the black top is hot, and it feels like my heel flash dried.

"You want a ride somewhere?"  He just took his skates off, put on some sandals, and threw the stick in the back seat.  

The roll back should help me cool down, and stretch out, but "yeah."  It was too condemned hot.  My socks were still soaked, and "You mind stopping in for a drink?"  I pointed across the lot, and street to the convenient mart. 

"Sure," he even loaned me a pair of flip-flops.  "Kah!" more Mtn Dew, I topped it off, and screwed the sippy cap back down.  The cashier just looked relieved that I didn't have my skates on.  All right, I played rabbit long enough, time to give chase.  He had my bag in his back seat, anyway.

"So!" I grinned, "Wanna take me home?"  Waggle my eyebrows.

"WhHYEah!" he laughed it out, "Okay?"  self concious.  Kind of cute, really.  Not shy,  aggressive, nor Too confident.  I got in, crossed my leg over to pull my thigh tight.  THNK!  "Where to?"

"Where's your place?" I can't do this at home.  I mean, I could, but it wouldn't be too smart a precedent.

"WhH?" his idiot grin interrupted anything after that.  

That's right, I let my eyes tell him, as soon as we get there.

He wasted not time firing it up, and taking off.  A lot closer than me, and driving, I figured I'd have to take the rest of the work out on him.  I was burning up now, felt like steam curling up from my shoulders, drying my hair.  He didn't talk, so I lit a smoke, and rolled the window down.  Older economy sedan, didn't make the model, nor care to.

"You smoke?"  I laughed.

"Yeah, and still skate faster'n you, backwards."  Couldn't get there fast enough, I guess I was getting cold, and hard inside.  Finally, the parking lot of some 4 plex apartments.  Unshaded, I just let the heat draw up into my legs.  Studio, swankey!  Half a kitchen backed up to a bathroom, and no bare mattress on the floor for this winner!  A double recliner, love seats with benefits, and bedding across it, "Nice."  I'm not even sure how much of that was sarcasm.  

"Uh,.."  Take another pull to wash out my mouth.

"Shutup," I pushed him back with my mouth, and steered him towards the "Love seat."  He brought his hands up, but they got lost in the jersey, so I found his wrists.  He sat down, and I climbed on his legs.  "Kah!" deep breath, already warming back up inside.

"Uhmf?" I muffled him with my chest.  Flattend further by the tight stretch of fabric, I guess it's supposed to be worn with a sports bra, or something, but I could feel everything through it.  His nose pressing in to the tight softness, nipple rubbing against his cheek.  He found it, but failed to suck it in.

Fucking pads, laced together in front, and a pain in the ass to undo by touch.  He felt too hard, but of course, he was wearing a cup.  It tilted sideways, so I knew where to reach, and roll around.  "Hmh!" not too bad, nor big, "It's okay," I worked it under the elastic strap, "I like'm small."

"Why" I dropped the cup, and put my fingers over his mouth.

"ShShSh," I pulled them back, "Hush." one by one.

He swallowed, quietly, but I was already pressing him into the tight spandex crotch.  "Ngh!"  So hard, I ground it against him.  Drenched, boiling inside, waves of heat washing up my back, "Kngh!"  So soon, I must have really worked myself up, because prickles burned up, and across my chest like spreading wings.  "NhH!" my cheekbones burned, and I could see flashes of flame lick in front of my eyelids.  "NhrhrHRH!"  I spasmed, took a deep breath.  Still twitching inside, I got up, kicked off his sandles, and walked out.

I'd left the window open, and he didn't lock it, so I pulled my bag from the back seat, and set on it to pull on my skates.  "What th," he came out "FUck was That!?"  Finally, a little to late.

"Exactly." I grinned, and reached for my other sock.  "Thanks?"

"No, you're fucking Psycho!" he caught his breath, "you fucking psycho bitch!"  Oh, he's eloquent when he gets mad.  I was cold, satisfied for now, and fed up with this shit.

"Fine," I stood up with my bag on the strap, had to steady myself, "See you around!"  Maybe next week, I just skated off.  Doy!  I forgot my drink, and the bottle I could use over, and over.  Oh well, they're not that expensive.  What's his name, if I caught it, I'd already forgotten.  Much better that way, anyway.

Yeah, next week, pick a fight with him.  Make him take a swing, and kick his ass right in front of him.  Stop, lever the stick over my waist, and kick out underneath.  whHWHGH! landing on top with a downward back elbow, fist cocked to punch him in the face.

"Psycho bitch," I chuckled to myself, "You got no idea."  It's a nice day, there's a park I can cut through, so I roll over, and kick my skates off.  Socks too, starting to get pretty rank, but almost there. "Is that a blist" no, just a callous.

Finally able to relax, a breeze picks up to whisper through the tree tops.  "Hah!" rub my feet, and get some grass between my toes.  "Uh!" damn it was heavy with the skates strapped on.  Nice guy, what I like about him.  "Sooo," normal.

Not at all like I imagined, but I guess I should start with some kind of baseline.  I don't understand them well enough to predict them, so this will be a sort of Control.  I never said "rape," look around.  

He didn't hear it, think it, so he could stay in denial.  Borderline, really, surely he could tell himself it was consentual, just a little scary, unsatisfying.  Yes, I can't expect that one to just run out, and get rid of his blue balls on the next hapless female he sees, but it could work in him.

Men have a predatory nature.  Even if it's supressed, it doesn't just go away, I just need to unlock it.  So, maybe not in the next 48 hours, I can give it a week to see.  He won't admit it, even lie to himself for years, at least.  Plenty of time...