I never thought I'd say that, because I'm not patriotic by any reach of the imagination, but I miss Canada. Work opportunity had me move to the US, in the Boston area, to be precise. But homesickness has a strong and simple cure for me: hockey. Never could I possibly cheer for the Bruins, so I set my sights on college hockey. I am a frequent spectators at the Boston College hockey game, and over-enthusiastically cheer for the only canadian on the team, a lowly third pairing defenseman. It doesn't matter. I'm cheering for my country, and occasionally point out to fellow fans how we canadians defeated the US on their turf (I mean… ice) in Salt Lake City! Just some friendly teasing.
Two weeks ago, something happened which made me consider buying season tickets. I found out at the end of the game that her name was Ana. I was sitting right next to her. She was a cute little long-haired brunette. She was wearing jeans and a Boston College Eagles t-shirt. Not one of those loose fitting t-shirt, but one that made you really cheer for the home team. She was with who I assumed was her boyfriend, a guy called Dan, but of the two, she seemed to be the hockey fan. He didn't wear anything hockey-related, and didn't even seem to care much for the game. He kept his hands in his jacket pockets during the whole game. But he smiled a lot, so I guess he wasn't dragged forcefully into the arena.
The puck hadn't even been dropped, she already seemed really excited. I didn't know if there was anything special about that game, but there was definitely something special for me. She just sat tight, on the edge of her seat, and grabbed the seat with her hands on each side of her thighs, while leaning forward a little. I leaned back and took her in. She was petite, but didn't look fragile. Her back was curving forward, so it was hard to tell how good her ass looked, but I would have loved a squeeze right there and then. I looked at the generous, yet not exaggerated, swell of her breast. Her legs looked great, confined in her skinny jeans. Her eyes were fixed on the center of the ice, and her jaw muscles seemed be flexing. I could see just enough of her neck to wish to have a bite, or a lick. That's when I got Dan's eyes. I guess he had been doing the same thing I was, and when he caught me, I held my breath. But then I realized he wasn't angry at me, for looking up his girl. He had this big goofy grin that seemed to say "I'm gonna tap that… oh yeah!"
I heard the crowd cheer has the puck was dropped, and I turned back to the game. The two teams came out strong, trying to push the play into the opposing zone and get the puck to the net. There were a couple of good hits, shaky passing and rare scoring chances. That's the difference between lower levels of competition. Passes aren't as crisp and accurate as in the NHL. They usually get scoring chances by taking advantage of poor defensive plays, so it's often individual plays that find the back of the net. One such opportunity would arise every 3 to 4 minutes of play. I must admit, I almost missed the first one.
Ana was sitting straight, her knees glued together and she was wetting her lips. She seemed really into it. I turned my attention back to the game just in time to the only canadian on either squad clear the puck from in front of the goalie, after which I proudly shouted: "That's my home boy!" I know, I'm a dork.
The pace slowed down a lot. A couple of off-sides, icings, pucks flipped outside of the rink. That's when something unusual happened. After a player skated inside the offensive zone ahead of the puck carrier and the referee whistled it down, Ana almost yelled "Yes!". I already had a poor opinion of non-canadian hockey fans and questioned their overall knowledge of the game, but cheering on an off-side… that was unheard of. She turned and smiled at me. I wasn't sure, maybe she was teasing me.
I kept splitting my attention in equal parts between the game and Ana. She started squirming a little bit, and rocking back and forth in her seat, holding onto the armrests. She was biting her lips, it seemed. I thought she needed to pee real bad. Dan too was shuffling and re-arranging himself every couple of minutes. The first period ended, and they didn't hurry to the bathroom. I, myself, wanted to get a drink, but I decided to wait until the end of the intermission, knowing (and seeing) that there would be too many people fighting for the attention of too few vendors. During the intermission, Ana rested her head on Dan's shoulder, while he had his arm around his back. She seemed to be trying to grab something in his pocket, or tickle him, but she was evidently the one giggling and out of control. I remembered what it was like to be a young couple. I wondered what it would have been like to have such a hot girlfriend back then… and one that was into hockey!
When the intermission ended, I got up, as other people were steadily returning. To get to the stairs, I had to pass by Ana and Dan. Most people just stand up to let people more room to walk in front of them, but they just sat, twisting their legs sideways. That's when Ana winked at me. I reached the hallway and figured the lines were too long to the concession stands, so I went to the restroom to make some room for a beer. I did that, then returned, waited in line a couple of minutes, got the object of my desire and returned to my seat. When I got there, Ana and Dan were gone, much to my disappointment. Two minutes had passed in the period, and nothing had changed. Five minutes had gone by, and still my lovely neighbor hadn't returned. I thought Dan was a lucky guy, and if I were him, I too wouldn't waste my time at a hockey game and I'd take her home for some sweaty action. I started regretting not being more of a creep, and not having grabbed her ass, slid my hand across her back, around her waist to her flat stomach, up to reach for her boobs. A goal was scored, but I didn't notice it, as I was imagining Ana on her knees in front of me in a locked bathroom, swallowing my dick whole. I imagined pulling her up and bending her over the counter and pulling her jeans down, placing the tip of cock at her entrance before grabbing her by the hips and ramming her hard. The innocent musings about hypothetical college girlfriends were replaced by pure animal lust. What was that girl doing to me?
Suddenly I saw her walk back towards her seat, it was the middle of the second period, followed closely by Dan. Both were smiling the widest grins imaginable. She again winked at me, and I managed to say, or blurt: "Welcome back". Ana asked me what they'd missed, and I informed her as best I could. The rest of the game was much of the same. Goals were exchanged and the Eagles added an empty-netter in the last second. Meanwhile, Ana kept squirming and at some point, I started noticing she was moaning. That's when 1+1 made 2. She had a vibrator. In public. Wow!
I wanted this charming, beautiful, sexy and wild crazy right then and there. Fuck the restroom, right here, in the seats, with 2000 fans and two hockey teams watching us. I imagined two security guards coming to throw me out, but instead deciding to watch and give us encouragement. In my fantasy, Dan wasn't anywhere near. He didn't exist. Only me and Ana, my dick and her pussy, my hands and her breasts, my lips and tongue and hers, and the blur of a crowd cheering for me as I scored!
The horn marking the end of the game snapped me out of it, and I realized I was still staring at Ana, who seemed embarrassed a little, but still smiled. I had to look away and think… oddly enough, about hockey. I tried to recall the fractions of the game I observed, but everything just reminded me of Ana, and made my neck ache to turn and stare at her some more. I decided I had to leave, and the best I could do was re-arrange myself as to conceal my loaded weapon.
"So, you're from Canada?" I heard Ana ask. It was undoubtedly directed to me.
"Yes… we canucks stand out in a hockey crowd."
"Yeah, you do" she replied, with her patented wink. Wow, this girl was driving me wild. "I'm Ana, by the way."
That's when Dan took his right hand out of his jacket pocket, holding a small remote, and waved at me, saying: "Hey, I'm Dan." Seeing me noticing the remote, he smiled and pushed a button.
A second later, Ana's face changed and she gasped, reached out her hand to stabilize herself on my shoulder. "Oh God."
Dan turned it back down, and Ana's radiant smile returned. She slipped on her own jacket and we made our way out of our row, up the stairs and filed out of the arena.
Before parting, I extended my hand to Ana and said: "Pleased to meet you. I hope I'll see you here again."
I did see her again. The following week. But the guy wasn't Dan. It was Bill, this time. And this week, it's not Bill. It's me.
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