Chocolate and Hockey
- 3 years ago
- 23
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My dad regretted not having a son. He denies it of course but I could tell by how he pushed athletics on me at a young age. He even bought me a jock strap for my fourth birthday which confused us both. I grew up in Rabbit Ridge KY so began my fabled sports career with tennis and softball. I was decent in tennis until my boobs sprouted like melons, causing boys to giggle each time I rushed the net. I also tended to grunt on my serves quite loudly. It was annoying but, at least, the Asian businessmen watching seemed appreciative.
At seven we moved to Big Beaver, Saskatchewan. He proudly exclaimed one day I might be "Miss Big Beaver," a title I'm not sure any woman truly seeks. In Canada I learned their two major sports, curling and hockey. Curling with all its sweeping seemed too domesticated for me since all I knew about a broom was one was used to rape Linda Blair in a women's prison exploitation movie. (Did anyone have a worst childhood than her?)
Girl's hockey was in its infancy where it remains today but I loved the physicality of it. While other girls had posters of trendy young pop singers on their walls I opted for the Great Gretzky and Rocket Richard. Plus I had one of Tonya Harding that fueled countless masturbation fantasies. As I neared our rink, the home of the Regina Vaginas, the weather worsened. Both snow and wind were gaining intensity. I leaned forward, squinting thru my icy windshield looking like Mr. Magoo. But weather couldn't deter me. The Vaginas need my inspirational pre-game pep talk. We had lost three-in-a-row and I was prepared to give each teammate the tongue lashing they needed.
I was far from our best player. My skating was adequate but I hadn't scored a goal in three seasons. My true talent is beating people up. In hockey parlance I'm a "goon." No charm, no pretty girl, just a goon who spent more time caged in a penalty box than Bonnie Parker. The weather would make tonight's crowd as sparse as belly laughs during the "Joker" movie but I don't need a crowd. Tonight we play our American rivals, the Boston Beavers, both teams belonging to the fledgling NHLA (No Hetero Ladies Allowed).
The cold weather had me in fierce mode and someone would pay. At home I have a necklace made from teeth I dislodged during skirmishes but found that some dates found that rather squeamish. Especially if I wore it while serving Fava beans and a nice Chianti. Wusses! Late in the game, one of the sweaty Beavers streaked toward out goal with the score tied. She was everything I'm not; gorgeous, lithe, an effortless skater. In other words I hated her so I crashed her into the boards and pilfered the puck, then breathlessly skated toward their trembling goalie.
Picking my spot, hearing adulation from the tiny crowd, I put all my strength behind my shot as the chorus of Warren Zevon's `Hit Somebody' echoed through my brain. The puck struck the back of the net simultaneously with the clock hitting :00. We had won. My drought was over but my real happiness sprang from looking back and spotting my Peggy Fleming-like opponent still lying twitching on the ice where I left her. There was joy in Mudville to mix sports expressions.
Instead of going immediately to the locker room to celebrate with teammates, I opted to stand at the arena door watching the blizzard and basking in adulation. I found it much more satisfying than listening to them gossip about last night's 'Gray's Anatomy. While admiring I could hear a nearby radio report on the US Presidential race which was shaping up between Trump and Bernie Sanders. Or as I call it 'Grumpy Old Men Go to Washington.' Is there no younger person with new, creative ideas left in my former homeland? Maybe Clint Howard is available. My insightful political musings were interrupted by a commotion outside. I extinguished my putrid Red Apple cigarette which was as tasteless as a slice of Little Caesar's Pizza then surveyed outside.
An elderly couple was slowly treading over the ice when their walkers suddenly flew in perfect arcs through the bitter air and they fell like hit by a sniper. The stereophonic sound of their hips shattering was music to my ears but since I'm now a Canadian citizen I called 9-1-1 and dashed outside to help. Damn Canadians! By the time the ambulance arrived, our locker room was empty so I merrily strolled in. It smelled like pussy and Lysol (one out of two ain't bad). It was a tough game and my aching bones took me to the Jacuzzi. Stripping and climbing in after doing my best Eddie Murphy routine from SNL, I let Calgon take me away until I heard the door creak open, followed by the sound of heels clicking across the mildewed tile flooring.
Barely opening my eyes I was pleasantly surprised to discover a vision of beauty approaching. She was tall, shoulder-length brunette, legs of Wonder Woman and tits of TV'S Wonder Woman. It made me wonder where she'd been all my life. The kind of gal I'd love to give the puck of a lifetime.
With my breath catching in my throat I extended my trembling, soggy hand and introduced myself.
Hello. I'm Nell. (My dad was big fan of Dudley Doright, hence our move north after a brief stop in Frostbite Falls.
She replied while shaking my hand very firmly, "Hello, Nell. I'm Sydney like the city in Australia not like Sidney Crosby."
She towered over me in an exciting way, not the shrinking violets I'm accustomed to.
She continued, "I'm a scout with the Dildo Strap On's in Dildo, Newfoundland (Google it). Our city is famous for the greatest mascot in history, Duncan the dildo. I have postcards. I'm here looking for a goon and I hear you're one of the gooniest." She then disrobed to her pink VS thong and laid on the massage table which left me with no option but to walk to her and begin massaging her shoulders. Her deep moans and undulations were all the encouragement I needed. I flipped her over and gazed longingly at her too perfect breasts. So what if they're store-bought. They looked incredible and she certainly didn't need to keep the receipt.
My face landed with a mushy thud between those gravity-defying orbs and nibbling ensued, her hand behind my head, guiding unnecessarily.
In a dark whisper she asked, "Well, do you want to come to Dildo? " Since I've cum on my share of dildos I had no objections and began kissing down her taut tummy, while she peeled her thong down and off. She had it all as I stepped back to admire the view: gorgeous boobs, delicious hips, legs of a track star and a fully erect penis....A what! She was transgender. Not that there's anything wrong with that. It just caught me off guard. It's one thing to expect to see a dripping, pink pussy...been there. But to see this huge hunk of throbbing manhood merely inches away was flabbergasting. I was in such shock my jaw could have easily dropped but I didn't want to send the wrong signal.
"Can I get a little help please. My clitty is begging for relief." Her eyes and tone were so sad and pleading. I was tempted for a micro-second but I couldn't jeopardize my membership in the Lesbian Union so I had to decline. She immediately sensed my trepidation, murmuring, "Do you mind if I finish myself. I shan't be long."
Well since she said 'shan't ` I had to oblige so I hastily scrambled into a Hazmat suit and stood a safe distance away. Sydney proceeded to wrap her well-manicured fingers around that beast and she began pumping like Pee Wee Herman at a private screening of `Shaving Ryan's Privates.' I was already regretting my lack of goggles or an umbrella. Suddenly her body tensed as our eyes locked and she begun spurting like the Bellagio fountain. It would take more than Industrial Mr, Clean to clean these sticky tiles. Watching her pleasure herself I realized the Zevon song had been replaced in my mind with the Kinks iconic 'Lola' which led me to some suggestive bumping and grinding which seemed to revive her still prominent appendage. It all reminded me of a 'What's wrong with this picture' puzzle.
She sauntered over to me, that mystery meat bobbing hypnotically.
"I'm sorry it didn't work out," she said with a hint of remorse. She then kissed with raw passion, seductive like a woman, not crushing like a man. I felt temptation but stood my ground despite weak knees.
"But we'll always have Regina, " she whispered between kisses and handing my a very realistic Dildo dildo. The gift that keeps on giving.
I drove through the snow, confused but quite warm and replaying about what had happened. I honestly didn't know how to feel about it so to clear my head I played Lou Reed's 'Walk on the Wild Side.'
Surprisingly next followed words by Whittier..."It might have been." I slammed on the brakes, doing a bat turn over the icy street and headed back to the arena singing Lola at the top of my lungs, smiling.
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I’m scared. I feel so exposed. I’m a naughty girl and so require regular discipline. I have learnt that really, you hate to hear me cry and so I have been emphasizing my distress, crying a little bit louder, begging a little too quickly for you to stop and now the game is up! I have overdone the hysterics and so tonight you have upped the stakes. During my spanking I will be wearing the brand new pair of nipple clamps that you have specially selected from the store. Which is why I’m now...
I had this girlfriend and we had been dating for awhile, We were both 15. We kissed and made out quit a bit but she would never let me do her. I had to guilt her into giving me a blow job, because she hated oral sex, but I loved it. There was one night that we had been to a cookout, I was really wanting to make out (or get her to go a little further) so I convinced her to take a walk with me down by the lake. I was hoping to try to get a little further then we had been. We got down to the dock...
Hi guys thanks for the likes and ur response to my previous story and here is the continuous of the story from where I left. After thrown from the flat I went to my room and took a bath and reminded what happened and I am very happy for that and I got a message from Mistress that next week I have to come again to her flat at weekend and I replied “No” mam, I can’t come I have work then she laughed and messaged me I know how to make you come after 5 days passed on Friday morning she messaged me...
Cris 'n Kelly - Part 3 - Acceptance By Old Timer When I awoke, I was alone in her bed. Grabbing a towel, I hurriedly wrapped it around under my armpits as Kelly had suggested and headed to my room for a morning freshening. As I looked in the mirror, I was amazed that I still did not need a shave. If anything, my facial hair resembled blonde peach fuzz; and there was a softness to the texture as my splashed water and washed. No big deal I thought to myself, I never enjoyed...
I had this girlfriend and we had been dating for awhile, We were both 15. We kissed and made out quit a bit but she would never let me do her. I had to guilt her into giving me a blow job, because she hated oral sex, but I loved it. There was one night that we had been to a cookout, I was really wanting to make out (or get her to go a little further) so I convinced her to take a walk with me down by the lake. I was hoping to try to get a little further then we had been. We got down to the dock...
I’m scared. I feel so exposed. I’m a naughty girl and so require regular discipline. I have learnt that really, you hate to hear me cry and so I have been emphasizing my distress, crying a little bit louder, begging a little too quickly for you to stop and now the game is up! I have overdone the hysterics and so tonight you have upped the stakes. During my spanking I will be wearing the brand new pair of nipple clamps that you have specially selected from the store. Which is why I’m now...
SpankingHi ISS readers! I am big fan of ISS and read all the stories. The stories of interest to me are incest, Group and lesbian. Anything which needs un natural sex then it interests me most. After reading all the stories many times again and again and masturbating or doing sex with my partners same way mentioned in stories I thought of wiring my real life story Here it is It’s an incest story. Sex with my niece who is my sister’s daughter. The best part of incest sex is that the partners agree do...
IncestCUCKOLD CRIES By Donald CuckAs always, our story is the cuckold's recollections of events that transpired. Cuckoldress such as my WIFE Agness and alpha males like Brett are always capitalized to show THEIR positions in superior relationship to myself. Reference to my WIFE will not be capitalized when SHE is in Brett’s loving embrace. The word MAN and WOMAN capitalized is for the respect all alpha males and Cuckoldress warrant. This evening the BULL will deposit HIS cum deep into the cuckold’s...
Chapter 1: July 1998 - A Shoulder to Cry On.A sister discovers just how close she and her married brother secretly want to be.This is the first Chapter in a comprehensive revision of a series I wrote under the male pseudonym JGUK years ago. In those days I was less confidant about my writing and thought a masculine name would reduce the amount of unwanted attention I would receive, particularly as the subject matter is something very close to my heart. I feel differently now and am...
Incest