by Ily Goyanes
My ears start ringing and I worry I’m going to pass out. Then I realize it’s the crowd. The fans are going nuts. Dee reaches down and grabs me up off the ice like a rag doll, shaking and spinning me like I weigh absolutely nothing. To her I probably don’t. God she’s huge, and even bigger up close. All muscle and solid as a rock. She’s jumping up and down, screaming like a banshee. Either I actually made the goal or she’s gone crazy from the pressure to win. Both scenarios are a possibility at this point.
The announcer clears up my confusion. “Oh, my god! Tanner makes the goal with only two seconds left! It’s a tie! Three to three!” He is shouting to be heard and even then it’s tough to make out the words if you aren’t listening closely. “We’re going into sudden death overtime. I can’t believe it folks. We just might win this one.”
“Hot damn, Steph. You did it. You really did it! That was the coolest thing I ever saw. You really whacked the shit out of that puck. We’re gonna win!”
Dee spins us around once more and then sets me back down on my skates. I grab her shoulders to keep from falling as a girlish squeak breaks loose from my lips. She frowns and immediately hoists me back up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shake my head, but I can’t talk yet. It feels like hot lava is being poured into my kneecap. Putting weight on it has made it worse and I’m fighting hard not to barf on Dee or the ice. What a mess that would make. If I have to quit that’s definitely not the thing I want people to remember about me.
“My knee. Aw, shit! I think I broke it when that bitch hit me.”
The grunt I emit this time is a little more dignified, but not by much. Dee doesn’t say a word, just slowly starts moving us toward our box. The team doc is standing by as coach helps to maneuver me off the ice and onto the bench.
The minute Dr. Grey touches my leg I let loose with an unholy shout and a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush with shame.
“Son of a fucking bitch. Shit. Damn it all to hell. Don’t do that again!”
The doc ignores me and continues to poke and prod at my leg, going so far as to cut away my uniform until he reaches bare skin. The swelling is already noticeable and it’s turning an ugly shade of purple. By tomorrow it will be black and blue.
Coach is hovering close by and her mother hen routine tells me more than the doctor’s ugly frown ever could. I won’t be getting back onto the ice anytime soon. If ever.
That realization, more than the pain, is enough to make me cry. The first few sobs manage to escape before I can get control of myself. Everyone nearby pretends not to notice, it’s a jock thing, but Dee is pressed close to my side and I know she heard me.
The doc looks up, past me, to coach. “I need to get Tanner to the locker room so I can get a better look.”
Lyza asks the question I’m too scared to put into words. “What’s the damage?”
“Definitely dislocated. I don’t detect a break. Could be some tearing or a hairline fracture but I can’t tell for sure without an X-ray. If we can get her to the locker room the ambulance can take her to the hospital from there. I’ll call ahead and let the emergency room know she’s coming in. I have a friend on duty tonight.”
Oh, hell no! I’m not leaving yet. I shake my head in protest. “Nope. Not happening. I’m staying right here.”
The coach leans over my shoulder and gets right in my face. Her cheeks are pink with the first hint of anger. “You’re going to the hospital and that’s final.”
Normally I’d just nod and do what Lyza tells me but not now. I’m already out of the game, so I’m not sure what else she can do to intimidate me. Whatever she has in mind is not going to work tonight. “Sorry, coach. Not right now.” My temper is running close to the edge. Everyone’s is. I try for some damage control. “I’m not trying to be a hard-ass, but I got hurt scoring the game tying point. I want to be here until it’s over. I want to watch us win. Then I’ll go wherever you want me to.”
Doc chimes in before coach can get a word out. “You’re not staying in the box. That leg needs to be elevated to help slow the swelling. The joint needs to be realigned and pushed back into place as soon as possible. That can’t be done here.”
He has a point and I know it. I just don’t like it. I have another idea. “We’ve got a few minutes before the final round starts. Cart me back to the locker room, do what you have to do, then get me back out here to watch us beat those bitches. Afterward, I’ll take the ride to the hospital. How about that?”
Doc shakes his head. “You have no idea how painful a procedure like that is. I don’t have the type of drugs on hand to keep you comfortable. Go to the hospital and we’ll call you when the game is over.”
I’m getting pissed now. “I didn’t ask you to make it painless. I asked you to fix me enough so I can stick around to watch us win. When coach has that fucking trophy in her hands I’ll go to the emergency room and not a second sooner. Are we clear?”
Doc intercepts and grabs coach by the arm, pulling her to the far end of the box where I can’t hear what’s being said. Her face is so red, I’m worried her head might explode. As one the team glances over at coach. They know when to beat a hasty retreat. They scramble off the bench and dash to the locker room. Strangely Dee doesn’t go with them.
She’s almost as close to me as she can get without sitting in my lap. Somehow, though, she manages to get closer, leaning her head next to mine until I can feel her warm breath against my neck. Her lips brush the shell of my ear and I shiver from head to toe.
“Are you cold?”
“N-n-no.” I hope she attributes my stutter to my injury even if it isn’t because of that.
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
Hmm? That seems like a rhetorical question but I answer anyway. “I’ve been better. It’s actually starting to go a bit numb. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or not, but it beats the way it felt while you were dragging me off the ice. Thanks for that by the way.”
It feels stupid to say thank you without looking Dee in the face but I know if I turn my head our mouths will be dangerously close to touching. I don’t trust myself not to close the distance and press my lips to hers. I’ve dreamed of doing it all season. I know she’ll kiss just like she plays. Hard. Full out. No holds barred. I’ll bet she fucks the same way too. I shiver again just thinking about it.
“You’re welcome.” She tentatively puts one large hand on my thigh. When I don’t protest she keeps it there, moving a bit higher until she hits the junction where my leg meets my groin. I start to shake slightly and can’t seem to stop. “I thought you weren’t cold.”
I groan. “I’m not.” I’m so fucking turned on I could almost come in my pants. The throbbing in my clit is a welcome distraction.
Doc and Coach pick that moment to return. I don’t know whether to be grateful or pissed. One more minute and I might have embarrassed myself by begging. Dee’s hand stays on my thigh. If they notice they don’t say a thing about it. Coach looks calmer as she kneels down until we are eye to eye. I don’t know what Dr. Grey said to her but I’m eternally grateful.
“Dr. Grey and I discussed the problem. First off, you are a stubborn little shit.”
I nod. That’s no newsflash to me. My mom would agree too.
“I understand why you want to stay, but I don’t like it. It’s your body though, so the choice is yours. You can do what’s best and let the paramedics take you to the emergency room or Dr. Grey can treat you in the locker room and you can wait out the last period there.”
“The locker room? No! I…”
So much for calm. Coach gets right up in my face, her cheeks going from light pink to scarlet in a nanosecond. The barely controlled fury is evident in her voice. “It’s the locker room or the emergency room. Take your fucking pick!”
Dee’s hand on my leg tightens and I know I’m out of options. The choice is simple. I look over at the doc. “You ever done this before?”
He nods. “Twice. Once in the hospital and once at a game. The one at the game didn’t turn out so well.”
I shrug. “Third time’s a charm. Let’s do this.”
Dee wraps an arm around my shoulders and all but carries me back to the locker room. Whatever meeting the team is having breaks up as we enter. As they make their way back to the arena, they each acknowledge my sacrifice in their own special way. A pat on the back. A smile. A promise of victory. That’s the one that thrills me the most.
As doc positions me on a nearby therapy table Dee seems jumpy. When he walks off to gather supplies Dee moves in close once more, sliding between my spread legs. The thought of her doing it naked, with a thick cock strapped on and ready to fuck me, leaves me no choice. I reach out and snag her by the back of her neck. The move takes her by surprise; which is probably the only reason I’m able to budge her. When she realizes my intent she doesn’t resist. The resulting lip-lock is brutal. Both of us fighting for dominance. It’s the jock mentality. We don’t like to submit.
I let her know with my teeth and tongue that I’m in control right now. If we manage to get naked and horizontal I know who will be on the bottom and I’m okay with that. I just want to make her work for the privilege of being on top.
Forget medical attention. My knee doesn’t hurt a bit anymore. I feel like I could take on the whole opposing team by myself. My nipples spring to attention and only the thick uniform hides my excitement. My clit is pulsing and one touch is guaranteed to send me over the edge. I’m wondering how to get Dee’s hand into my pants when Dr. Grey sneaks up. I don’t hear him until it is too late.
One second I’m in heaven and the next I’m in hell. A quick snatch and grab on my leg is all the warning I get before Dr. Grey pushes my kneecap back into place. I pull my mouth away from Dee and scream.
Dee latches back on to my lips and swallows my protest. When we finally come up for air doc is grinning. He shrugs unapologetically. “I knew it would go back into place easier if you weren’t tense. You seemed pretty relaxed when I walked back in, so I went for it.” He pats my leg and my immediate reaction is to kick him in the nuts. I refrain somehow and realize that my knee really does feel a lot better. It still hurts but nothing like when I first fell.
“Do I still have to go to the ER after the game?”
“I highly recommend it. I have to get back out to the ice in case someone else gets hurt. I expect this last period to be rather rough.”
As Dr. Grey makes his exit I feel nervous about being all alone with Dee. What if she and Dr. Grey planned this whole scenario? I don’t think I can handle knowing that she led me on just so the doc could fix my leg easier.
The concern in my expression must be clearly visible. Dee snatches my face in her hands and kisses the doubt right out of me. Unless she is vying for an Oscar there is no way she’s faking the desire I feel burning between us. Now that my knee is relatively stable, sex is the only thing on my mind. I want to come so bad I can hardly stand it. I want to bury my face between Dee’s legs and suck her clit until she creams all over my face then beg her to do the same. There are a hundred different kinky scenarios running through my mind, but I know our time is limited. Judging by the noise of the crowd the game has started back up. The first team to score a goal in overtime wins. I love my teammates but I don’t want them to walk in on Dee and me having sex. I’m also too greedy to wait.
I pull back and start kissing my way down her chin, nipping at every available inch of skin I can find. She’s grinding her hips against me while one hand works its way under my jersey. One deft flick of her wrist and my bra is undone, my breasts loose beneath my uniform. Dee doesn’t waste any time. She pinches my right nipple, pulling and twisting until I can’t take it anymore.
“Please!”
She nibbles on my earlobe. “Please what?”
“Touch me. Make me come. I’m dying.”
Her voice sounds pleased. “All you had to do was ask.”
Her attitude is cocky and I know I should be pissed but I’m too horny to care. If she doesn’t touch me soon I’m going to reach down and do it myself. I start to do just that.
She smacks my hand away, and then her fingers are suddenly where I need them most. I’m so wet she actually slips past my clit. As she moves back into place I reach for her waistband. She stops me with a stern look and a tug on my clit.
“You can do me later. Right now I want to watch you squirm. I can’t focus if I’m busy riding your fingers, and the first time you make me come I want it to be in your mouth.”
“Oh, shit, yes!” That’s it. I’m done. Her explicit talk and steady manipulation of my clit has me crying out my orgasm for the world to hear. I wrap my arms around her waist to steady myself as I shudder through the final waves of my climax.
“Jesus Christ.” She pulls her hand free and starts licking her fingers. We both jump as the announcer and the crowd start screaming. He must really be hollering for us to hear him so clearly in the locker room. “They’ve done it. Oh, my god. They’ve won! The Bears are the new district champs!”
Soon the locker room is full to bursting. The atmosphere fairly glows with excitement. Doc is still insisting I go to the emergency room, but I don’t mind so much anymore. We won, and Dee plans to follow behind the ambulance so she can take me home afterward. There’s no doubt about it. Three is definitely my new lucky number.
GIVE AND GO
Anna Watson
Elsie and I had gotten good at quickies. We had to be, with our six-month-old twin boys in command of 99.9 percent of our home time. Today, Nate and Terry were miraculously napping at the same time, and the moment had finally come. My wife, fresh from a shower, was folding baby clothes on our bed. I threw her down onto the pile of Onesies and yanked open her bathrobe. Her plump breasts spilled out invitingly, but I paused only briefly to enjoy the sight. Already turned on and breathing hard, Elsie spread her legs, reached down to pull aside the crotch of her panties, and I was in. For foreplay, we’d had weeks of teething, an endless cycle of passing each other in the night as we walked and rocked our miserable sons, smiling helplessly at each other when we met in the kitchen where we were forever rummaging in the freezer for a frozen teething aid. I was so horny my teeth hurt. I drove into her with a desperate abandon other parents will recognize: we missed each other, we wanted each other, we needed it bad; the baby monitor was on, and the clock was ticking.
It didn’t take long before we were both completely in the zone. We had started out trying to be quiet but soon threw all caution to the winds. As I sucked on Elsie’s earlobe, my hands busy with her nipples, she was working herself up to her own special, sexy, orgasmic yodel, and I was grunting and hooting like a damn gorilla. This was going to be a good one, one of those fucks when we both came at the same time, when our energy and the stars were aligned in some mysterious and glorious fashion, when the fucking and the coming were equally intense, when we were one with the elemental fuck energy, the universe blessing us with seamless connection: butch and femme, wife and wife, parents, lovers, friends, god and goddess; yes, here it was, here it was!
The phone rang.
I tried to ignore it, pumping even more frantically, but Elsie had already looked.
“Your sister,” she said.
I slumped against her, burying my face in her bosom, wishing Caller ID had never been invented. I knew I would have to take it, though. It was probably about Dad.
Lately, Dad had been falling. He would be eighty this year, and Bev and I had been working to convince him to move to an apartment in an assisted-living complex. After this last fall down the back steps, he had finally agreed to go, which was why Bev was calling, and which was why, the weekend after that almost-transcendent quickie, I kissed my wife good-bye and drove down to Virginia to help him move. Bev, who lived one town over, was waiting for me in the living room of Dad’s house, the house we’d grown up in.
“He’s at bingo,” she told me, after we’d
hugged. “But he’s started.”
“No kidding!” Piles of books, papers and clothes were everywhere, the kitchen cupboards had been dumped and I could see out the window that every tool from the garden shed was tossed onto the lawn.
Bev grimaced. “He’s already put the house on the market,” she said. “I think he wants to get rid of everything.”
In order to process this information, it seemed best to go out for coffee immediately. It was lucky we did, because we found a flyer at the Java Jump calling for donations to an upcoming yard sale, benefitting the Lady Redwings, the women’s soccer team at Mary Jackson.
Mary Jackson used to be a women’s college here in town, but had recently opened its doors to men. This infuriated me; what, sexism has disappeared from our world? It’s obvious we still need women’s colleges, but no one had asked me. At any rate, MJ had played a large part in Bev’s and my early lives: it was where Dad taught math for forty years and where we had gone for undergrad. These days, however, I hardly ever spared it a thought.
“This is great!” Bev said, pulling down the flyer and tucking it into her purse. “After Dad gets done simplifying his life, the team will be all set. No one else will have to donate a thing!”
“Lady Redwings—what bullshit!” I said. “In my day, we were just the Redwings.”
“I know, mine too.” Bev hadn’t played soccer, but she was in solidarity with me. I’d played varsity all four years.
It had been much less painful than I’d expected to empty out Dad’s house, certainly less painful than helping him purge the place of Mom’s things after she died. Then, he’d just sat in his lounger, his eyes open, staring at nothing. Now, he slipped off to hang with his cronies, cheerfully directing us to “get rid of all this crap!” We rented a U-Haul, and by Monday the house was empty and the trailer was full. I called the Lady Redwings Booster Club to let them know we were ready to come by. Dad and Bev offered to stay and clean if I would drive the U-Haul over to campus to the drop-off site, and, foolishly, I agreed.
