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Disclaimer: All characters in this piece are eighteen or over
(Sorry bout the formatting folks. I got sprites in my bytes it would seem.)
I didn’t wake up hungover, or tired, no confusion or worry. I woke up just as dawn started, the moonlight curtains still open from the other night. Day and night had traded soft mellowness for a pinkish radiance that fell on Cathy, and Bonnie cuddled on my chest.
They had absolutely zero makeup on, still, their skin shimmered like the finest glitter had been dusted on them. The house was dead still quiet, I hadn’t remembered it being like that for a while so I just listened to it. It didn’t say a lot. Some small shudders from the roof, a pipe groan here and there, otherwise it just told me it was still strong and ready to take on a new life.
I fell back asleep on that thought when that same old fucking dream started, only this time the bench didn’t have a chance to pull away, that air horn went off jolting me awake. (I’m telling you man. Somewhere, at some time, a guy whose job was in designing air horns got pissed off by some big wig, who didn’t even know what a horn was, and put together the worst five notes you can imagine.)
I woke up, just alone. No shower was running so the ladies weren’t in there. The smell of food once again wafted up from the kitchen and I, fully expecting the entire team to be downstairs had a shower. Nope.
All the women of the house were sat at the table eating a breakfast that smelt so good it made my gut rumble. When a clank from the sink sounded I figured sob or Popoff had decided reimbursement for last night’s show was in order. That didn’t make sense though, as good as they were on the ice if it wasn’t microwaveable, and left to their own devices, they didn’t eat.
When I did look the last person on earth I would have expected to see was coach. But there he was putting a frying pan in the dish drainer, wiping both hands with a dish towel. He nodded towards my equipment bag. “You got your gear packed. Why?”
I honestly didn’t know, and moreover didn’t remember doing it. Just in case?.” Got a grin. He nodded to the now sated quintet, who were absolutely giddy, (except Mary who was still face deep in her grub. Like mother, like son.) then me to grab my gear.
“Lucky guess on the equipment bag. C’mon. Got a big old naked lady I want you to see.”
All the paint was gone.
Totally stripped, just a gleaming aluminum bullet, like when they used to name trains. Pop and sob were already on her, maybe stunned like I was. Coach asked me, “Till I can find someone with painting skills. What do we put in the destination window? Team name won’t fit.”
Was only one answer. “Win.” I got slapped hard on the back and almost dropped my bag.
“That’s a damn good way of introduction.” Now,” He paused. “In case you’re wondering why nobody’s here, we got our rink back. Was, as they put it: Media unfriendly. The rest of the teams down there. Mom had put a lot of work into our rink out back, he must have seen the disdain on my face.
“Hold your bullets champ. We’re going to use both rinks. Back there anyone with a set of binoculars can see what we’re doing. Pop sent me his play idea.” He gave me a look so serious it almost doubled me over. “We’re going to use the inside rink to practice that play, well you three, Clayton, plus whoever I decide as defense men practice it.”
That last bit was news to us. “Your juggling lines?”
“I’m not leaving our starting goalie out to dry. If you six actually get this play down, and only if, you’ll be a special team.” He got a smile on, Pretty sure anyone who ever saw even one hockey game will lose their shitting minds if it happens.” Popoff had never really told me this ‘play’ he’d come up with, only that both teams would be going forward, and that made zero sense to me.
While the outside of the bus could have blinded you on a bright day, inside, well, fumigation comes to mind. Sob took a look with a wink, “Don’t even bother man. Me and Popoff checked the overheads, there ain’t no dead bodies.”
“Damn man then open a fucking window or two.”
Sob almost busted neck tendons trying not to laugh when pop answered, “Can’t. Coach says they don’t open.” I stood there honestly trying to figure out if pop actually believed that when coach gunned the motor. The outside hadn’t been the only change. Are new silver bullet dug in and pulled out like a funny car reading the Christmas tree. I went flying off my feet, and my linemates heads into the backs of the seats in front of them.
“We’re going to die before we play.”
Me and sob both looked at him. “Yeah. And the windows don’t open.” With that, every single window got cracked wide. I guess it dawned on him he’d been ribbed. “Shit.” Pop stood up looking over the back of the seat in front of him. “You’re an asshole sometimes coach.”
I braced myself dead sure brakes were about to be slammed bursa escort on. Instead, coach just answered, “Takes one.” Didn’t add ‘to know one’ just left it up in the air. To his credit pop plopped his butt back down with a smile.
“Yeah. It does sometimes.”
“You wanna know something Popoff?” I think he was a little pissed at the toying by the look he gave me. “If coach is thinking you are going to change the face of hockey with this play, enough to mix our lines up, just tell me where, when, and what.” That settled him into his seat.
“Yeah. If we can get it to work… together.”
“So you’re telling me no different than usual?”
We were all in line on the bus. Pop sitting next to me, sob across the aisle when he banged his right foot on the floor then did the same with his left hand. That was his bench move. He used it every time we needed to know giving up was not an option for him, a captain move of his own.
Then turned to me and said something that to this day I’m not quite sure what it meant, and have since come up with a million different ways I could have answered.
“You know something, ever since you and Cathy hooked up, things have been weird.”
“And what of it?”
“Reminded me to thank her.”
Even if I had thought of a different answer, sob had his own things to be thankful for, and added his two cents before Pop could answer.
“For Bonnie, on my part… and by that, I mean ALL her parts.”
I heard coach chuckle, sob froze, Popoff made a motion like something feline jumping out of a bag. Thankfully we pulled up to our rink in a serendipitous time stifling anything further. Pop, sob, even coach, got up to leave. I started closing windows. That move garnered me some jabs on how I must love the dank. All I was thinking was if they are going to spy on us at mom’s rink, what’s to stop them from trashing our new bus? That’s what I said, and silver got locked down tight.
It felt good to be back in our locker room. Stickers on the doors, marker quotes, ribs, and jokes on the walls. I had to give coach his due. That bus smell was just a preemptive strike, a tiny reminder of this home and the myriad of scents it contained.
The whole team dressed, laced up, and bull-shitted before we hit the ice. After about ten minutes of goofing his whistle went off.
Coach had three different whistle tones. Shrill, calm, and bass.
Shrill = Behind the net to the red line.
Calm = Behind the net to the goal line.
Bass = Behind the net to the blue line.
Tone wise it didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but that was the point of it all. You had to pay attention.
When he started mixing calls? It disintegrated. Coach did not like staggering when alignment was the focus. You went too fast or fell behind… do it all over. We couldn’t get our shit together. Out of breath, yelling barbs at each other to, pick it up, or slow it down, more than one what the fuck dude was blurted.
We had not one ounce of team during all of it.
Everybody has limits, coach hit his hard and called it off. Without even looking he turned and walked away informing us he was, “Leaving with my bus.” His bus. In other words, we didn’t deserve a team bus. That hit all of us, we deflated like a balloon in a vacuum. Not one of us said a word to each other getting ungeared.
Everyone got rides home of course. Cathy came and picked me, sob, and Popoff up. I’d never been so embarrassed in my life. When we got home I excused myself soon as we got in the back door and headed up to our room. I was so pissed off at myself that my captain’s jersey got thrown in a corner somewhere in my room.
Cathy found me in the shower. A mixed batch of frustration, boiling anger, and fears, Palms on outstretched arms pushing off the shower wall. Didn’t even undress. Just slid up between my open arms, leaning back to the wall, letting the water turn her blouse to glass while it painted her skirt to her hips. Any other time that would have calmed me down, anger-wise anyway. It did nothing for either this time.
“Wanna tell me what happened?” That was easy enough to answer.
“I’ve seen eight year old’s with more tightness than we had. Was like we never skated together before.” I lifted a fist to hit the tile and she moved right in front of it.
“My face or your hand. Which one are you going to break, I’m not moving btw.” That definitely put the boiler burners out. I was about to say sorry when she started a listen-up strip tease.
“Look, sound’s to me,” One by one each pearl button on her blouse got undone. “Like your just out of sync.” That was said while she arched her back to peel the blouse off, revealing a bra so sheer it wasn’t a surprise I hadn’t seen it through the wet blouse. “So maybe you all have something on your minds,” She bolstered that line when she bent sideways to unzip her bursa escort bayan skirt causing some incredible cleavage. “Now I’m thinking maybe you all have something on your minds.”
Cathy’s done shimmies for me, but a wet blouse, bra reveal, cleavage shake, skirt peel was a new one.
The upper boiler had gone out, the lower came on line, pine knot and lard stoked. What I’m referring to is a Mississippi, paddle-wheeler captain’s trick. Lard and pine knots full of sap were thrown into the boilers. Burned super hot raising the steam, and things got… well,
Hard and fast.
She leaned back against the wall, somehow not slipping on the floor in her heels. Her hair was sexily draped from the water, makeup running just enough to give her eyes a smoldering outline. “Perhaps all of you should think of the game…” One hand came up and popped open the front closure of her bra open. “And not so much about winning.” She got that grin on, pushed off the wall wrapping her hand around my cock. “I personally know the captain.” She started stroking. “He’s rock fucking solid, so no worries.” My dick got released and she held my hands, then kissed me, without closing her eyes.
“And, ummm, just play.”
As far as invitations go, on my part, I didn’t R.S.V.P. Nope mine was a case of A.S.A.P. I’ll admit the whole play aspect got lost but she didn’t complain when I went straight to the gap tooth measure. “THAT IS NOT PLAYING HUSBAND!!”
“Nope. But hockey’s a hard game wife of mine.”
“Your right lover.”
She pushed me to the ground and with a laser-guided pussy mounted me.
With one swift move, I was in, she was riding. “Damn Cathy. I have a cup at least when I’m playing.” She reached down and pinched my nipples. “OWWWW!!”
“You do have a cup, it’s just the pink, wet, tight one. Or do you want the plastic one?”
“No, pink’s good.” Cathy’s pussy has never ceased to amaze me. She is always tight and heated like over warm massage oil. “Why do you feel so damn mind-boggling all the time.” A bottle of body wash was beside me and I soaped up her tits running my hands over them, squeezing and pulling at her nipples.
“For the same reason you do. There’s no way you don’t make that cock throb on purpose just to make me moan, you know like how I do this.” Aunty dear made her pussy vibrate and my hips left the floor.
“FUCK! How do you do that!”
“Extremely well judging from your reaction.”
Slippery floors can be dangerous, but on the other hand, they can be advantageous. My aunt was flipped on her back before she knew it and I started to fuck her, (in the most loving way) hard. “SHIT LOVER! Damn your in a mood, don’t stop, keep fucking me!” Cathy raked my back with her nails which just get me harder, in return I pushed her tits together, and she got a simultaneous nip on her nipples yelping. “You wanna play huh? Okay, whoever cums first loses.”
We reverted back to our wedding playground antics, just a lot more adult. Cathy was kissing me so deeply and sweetly, I was sure my soul was being attacked. All the while she was running her hands, expertly, to a new hot spot I didn’t even know I had. This was not looking good for a win on my behalf. (yeah, I know. like I could lose?’ still.)
Maybe it was the fact are practice sucked, but the way Clayton did his warm up’s hit my head, specifically his double leg stretches. So I changed his move up a bit, embellishing it XXX style for Cathy. My legs spread open as far as they could, taking her’s along for the ride, my hips came up and I dove in.
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!”
Also took a tip from Misty’s double-dong show and started my own set arrangement of assorted speeds and thrusts. “Lover I don’t care if I lose or win, just don’t stop what you’re doing. OMG, what you’re doing to me!” Three strokes later her head went back in a moan, her pussy clamped on me, I shuddered, the vitamins did their job, and she got flooded.
It was a good thing I hadn’t turned off the backup water heater. We spent a good lot of time cuddling on that soapy floor giggling, (yeah me too) About everything and anything. But I did ask her a question. “You ever wonder why nobody ever said the too young, too old thing to us?”
“Nope. Are friends and family are too smart, we would of just ignored them and eloped. Somehow.” Cathy looked at her watch. “Oh God, it’s super time.” And just as it was something as mundane as brushing your teeth, she started to peel off her heels and thigh highs only it was not humdrum in the least. My wife knows what buttons push me.
“Okay. Look, I get it. You want to kill me in the shower, everything runs down the drain, no witnesses, but come on woman. I swear it’s going to break off if I get hard again.” Mary can’t act, my aunt can. She actually looked shocked.
“Lover I was seriously just getting my wet clothes off.”
“You put the bull in shit you know that?”
I got nuzzle kissed. “Maybe. But it’s nice to know even simple things about escort bursa me turn you on. Food time though.”
“Okay. But after that, just sleep okay?”
“Can’t promise that.” I suddenly wished I had an athletic cup with a lock on it.
“Nah, you just need to invest in some cotton rope or handcuffs.” Her flip comment caught me off guard and she giggled at the look I got. For her part she shouldn’t of said it, I started getting ideas. There was a bigger surprise on my bed though. Somebody had laid my suit out with a note that read, ‘You have one hour to get dressed, be ready.’
“What the hell is this all about?” Cathy just shrugged her shoulders, then mom called her to her room. As my wife left my two teammates entered carrying their own suits. “Don’t bother asking me man, ain’t got a clue.” We started getting ready when headlights, a lot of them, started flashing through my window. “Now what the fuck?” Outside the whole yard started filling with cars full of teammates families and girlfriends.
None of us knew what the hell was going on and it got worse when we hit the kitchen. Every single person there was dressed to the nines. I know it wasn’t just me that saw some moms we’d known forever in a whole new sexy, light. Our girls looked red carpet ready, all except Bonnie. Mary had outdone herself, all the men and half the women had wolves in their eyes. Was Clayton’s dad that caused the start of the explanation as to what was going on.
He broke into an earsplitting baritone laugh. “You haven’t told them, have you?” That was directed at mom who pursed her lips, shaking her head. Then explained.
“You guys, the whole team I mean, thoroughly pissed your coach off.” We didn’t need to be told that. “But being the kind of man he is, one that can actually turn you, buffoons, into a solid team, realized that you haven’t had team togetherness for a while. So. Twenty minutes from now your team bus is showing up, shortly followed by one that will pick us family, girlfriends, and the like up. Destination? Roberts for
She might as well of dropped a five-hundred-pound bomb on us three. The term shell-shocked doesn’t even come close to describing what our faces looked like. That look was trumped as soon as Sob had recovered. He dropped a nuke that not only solidified all the changes he’d made since meeting Bonnie, and changed my viewpoint on him forever. His tie started coming off and he just laid it out in front of everyone. “I ain’t going then.”
Cathy, Bonnie, and Mary were all standing together, Mary inquired, a little more than miffed, ‘Why?’. And oh boy did he answer her. “My girlfriend is obviously not dressed up.” He motioned to Bonnie. “If she isn’t invited why should I go?” The proverbial pin drop? Uh-uh, it got so quiet you could have heard a snowflake fall.
Until Clayton’s dad spoke up.
The man had a naturally loud voice. “Damn, wish I had a girlfriend like that when I was…” He didn’t get to finish that before a swat from his wife found the back of his head.
From somewhere further back, a woman’s voice admonished another hubby with the words, “You shut up. We were twelve years apart when we got married.” For her part, Bonnie look like she was going to bolt while crying. My Cathy put an end to all this by pulling her misty-eyed friend off to get dressed, stopping just long enough to give sob a kiss on the cheek.
“You Sir. Are a good man.”
(If you’re wondering how I got away with having both mom and Cathy as dates. I honestly don’t know, nothing was said so I kept quiet. My theory is, she just looked so damn hot nobody cared.)
Bonnie is one of those women, well like all of them close to us, that can make anything look sexy, she didn’t really need to change, but oh man. I’d seen her in various states of dress and undress, but nothing like this though.
She’d kept her hair loose and flowing moving like wheat in a breezed field. Cathy had found her a simple, black, tight dress, cut just low enough in front to show her ampleness, and deep in the rear revealing her very sexy back. The garment was mid-thigh as to where if she bent a certain way, the tops of some very familiar, rhinestoned stockings peeped out, and a pair of sexy, bright red heels topped it all off.
Sob had moved next to his mom. Bonnie, wickedly aware of just how hot she looked, moved in to ask sob, “Well? Will I do?” I know what sob said, what Mary whispered as she leaned in brushing her boobs against Bonnies, I don’t know. Whatever was said caused a very lusty glance between the two, and some very hard nipples showed up. The situation was still up for grabs as far as becoming a crisis went when some woman I’d never met blatantly asked Bonnie for her ‘Boob doctors’ number, which she gave unembarrassed.
That started the last kind of conversation I would have ever figured on: the merits of silicone versus saline. Any sort of animosity the crowd could have had toward sob and his girlfriend got lost in it. I sat next to mom on the edge of the breakfast table. “So how did that turn into a discussion on tits and not age?” She watched the smiles, laughter, and joking before moving closer, entwining her arm in mine.
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