CONTENT NOTE: Erotic fiction.
I admit I’m nervous, walking down the wide stadium corridors. Yes, the grey bricked walls and smell of rubber gym equipment is the same, but I’ve never been in this part before: where the players and coaches go.
I’ve seen the team play, of course. They’re in a good spot in the league. I’ve seen them passing by my office. I’ve even said ‘Hi!’ to a few in passing and they seem like really nice guys. That’s why I’m nervous. I don’t know them all that well and…well…I’ve never offered myself up to have sex with hockey players before.
Let me explain. It was one of those silly games at an office party. We played along under the impression it was all a big joke. We bet on a dancing game. If we did a dance either so unlike us, and whoever danced the best, won the game. The prize was, in amongst guffaws over cheap wine, that the winner would have sex with the hockey team. None of us took it seriously, and me deciding to step out of my apparently straight-laced persona, apparently twerked and mock lap danced so well to Fergie’s ‘London Bridge’ so well that I won the game.
A few days later, my flustered colleague pulls me to the side. He mentioned it in passing to the players, whom he knows well, when they asked if he enjoyed the office party. To his surprise, they were up for it. They knew me, and actually wanted to fuck me. The single ones. The taken and married men weren’t about the adulterous, sex-scandal-in-the-press life, and neither am I. They wanted to know if I was up for it. In a move that surprised me, I said yes. Tell them I will fuck them, I said. I’ve never had one night stands or casual sex, so why not go the whole nine yards and have a gang bang?
We arranged a meeting with the single players before, so we could talk boundaries, safety etc. In my office after work, they came in. Four of them. They were nice, personable, very charming and of course, handsome. Despite money and fame, they were down earth, sweet guys. We laughed and talked, flirted and formed our rules. Safety first. Everyone get tested and we use condoms. No cameras. No phones. Everyone showers before and after. Respect boundaries. Lock the door. We don’t want any unexpected visitors. It would happen the following weekend, in the locker room after the others had left, after an important play-off game.
So, here I am, in my winter coat, heels clacking against the stone floor. My legs are chilly from a gust of cold air blasting from the exit doors. The referees were leaving. They don’t notice me. When I arrive at the locker room door, I take a deep breath, gathering all the courage I have to knock three times on the door. Jason, one the players I’ll be spending time with tonight, opens the door, greeting me with a warm, knee-wobbling grin.
‘Hey gorgeous…’ He kisses my cheek. ‘Come on in.’
Inside are the other three: Mark, Darren and Jake. All of them freshly showered with towels around their waists. My cheeks grow red and I flash them a shy smile.
‘Hey…’ they all croon in unison as Jason shuts the door, locking it behind us.
‘So…’ I start off, unbuttoning my coat, ‘I heard it was a win?’
‘But we’re not out of the woods yet.’ Darren rakes a hand through his sweep of dark hair.
‘We’ve got to win another one or we’re out of consideration altogether,’ Jason says, casually draping his big arm around my shoulders. I only come up to his chest, even in heels. They’re all so tall, all of them over six feet. I smile coyly at them, undoing the last of my coat buttons. Excitement prickles at my skin as I take a deep breath. I’m actually doing this.
‘Well, in that case… Who’s up for celebrating?’
Slinking off my coat, I reveal my surprise. Black, lacy lingerie with stockings and suspenders. It’s the expensive stuff, the real deal. Buttery soft silk fits me like a glove, the lace detailing revealing just a hint of my nipples, the bra pushing up my already generous breasts.
‘Holy shit!’ Mark stares open mouthed. Darren wolf whistles with a great big grin. Jake cheers. Jason smiles and takes my hand, twirling me round in a circle. I giggle.
‘So what do you boys think? Do you like it?’
‘Like it?’ Mark laughs. ‘Fuck, you look amazing!’
‘Honestly, you look gorgeous.’ Jake smiles.
Darren sits up and strides over to me, picking me up in his arms and spinning me around. I yelp and laugh to more butterflies in my stomach. It had been a while since that happened to me.
‘Oh, fuck hockey! Who cares about that when we got this gorgeous woman right here?’
He perches me on the bench in the middle of the room, his lips inches from mine, crouching in front of me. My stomach swirls with butterflies. I like being in Darren’s arms. Darren’s the life of the party. The first and last to leave the dancefloor. Of course he’d be the first to volunteer for this escapade.
‘Do you want to get started now, sweetheart?’ he says, biting his lip as his eyes wander over my lingerie clad figure. ‘Who do you want to go first?’
His eyes widen as I spread my legs, resting them over his thighs. Surprise boys, these panties are crotchless. His eyes meet mine. Mine are darkened. They’ve never seen their straight-laced, seemingly innocent colleague like this before.
‘Seen as you’re so keen to start, Left Winger…’ I reach down to his towel, undoing the tuck and taking his cock in my hand. Darren, the life of the party and the team flirt, gasps shakily. His confident glances, is replaced with a needy, submissive stare. What a pleasant surprise. ‘Why don’t we start with going for a ride…?’
To be continuted…
This piece was written as part of Smuathon 2021, a smut writing day to raise money for a good cause. This year’s charities are Gendered Intelligence (UK) and Trans Lifeline (US). Both are charities that support transgender people and their families. To donate, click here to go to the Smutathon website and click ‘Donate’. Thank you!