Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part One

by Ting, Melanie

  I was thinking that maybe we should get dressed when Phil started to kiss me again. He kissed me gently on the lips, then pushed my sweaty hair off my face and kissed my forehead. He looked down at me and asked, “Was everything good for you, Kel?” He was smiling though, so I thought he already knew the answer.

  “Uh, yeah. How was I?”

  I was still worried. I was probably the least experienced person he had ever been with.

  “That was the best ever.” Phil was grinning now. “You’re a natural.” He held me even closer with one hand cupping my ass. “In fact, I think that we need to do it again, just to make sure that the first time was not a fluke.”

  “Again? We can do it again?” I had assumed that it was such a huge deal, that we would do it once and that would be it for a while. I was so naïve.

  “As long as the guy can do it again.” Phil sounded proud. “And with someone as sexy as you around, any guy could get it up multiple times.” As proof, his cock started nudging me.

  I was sexy? That was good news, after months of deprivation I had been wondering.

  “Then how come you made me wait so long?” I didn’t want to kill the mood, but I wanted to know.

  “I wanted you to be ready. And for you to want me as much as I wanted you.”

  Maybe that wasn’t enough of an explanation, but Greta wasn’t going to be home for a while so we shouldn’t spend time arguing when we could be fucking. He hopped off the couch and made a quick trip to the bathroom. Then I went and got cleaned up. When I got back, he was stretched out on the couch with his arms behind his head, totally naked with a big shit-eating grin on his face. Obviously comfortable with his own body. And who wouldn’t be? Geez, his body was so nice. He had been working out a lot and was totally cut. I really liked his biceps and pecs, and I liked the way the veins stood out over the muscles on his arms. I liked his slim hips and the way his quads and lats flared out. And his cock—well, it was a lot like Phil: big and confident.

  Phil was watching me inspect him and smiling.

  “Do you like what you see?” he asked.

  “It’s okay.” I tried not to smile.

  “You little bull-shitter.” He laughed. “You sounded pretty happy with my body a few minutes ago.”

  “The light’s better now. And I don’t want you to get too cocky. Arr, arr.” Great, even when I was naked I was a goof.

  Phil laughed even more. “Kelly, there’s no one like you.” He pulled me down on top of him. Our skin on skin sensation was incredible, and I wanted to touch him everywhere. I could feel his hard cock nudging me for attention. I worked my way down his body, licking his flat stomach and feeling the lines of his abdominal muscles. He shivered a little as I ran a finger down the thin line of hair leading down to his cock. I knew he was big, but now close-up, his cock looked huge and a little daunting. I reached out and touched it. It felt velvety soft and jumped in my hand. I leaned in and started licking it, beginning at the base and moving to the tip. I tongued all around the head, and took it into my mouth. I sucked as much as I could and jerked the base with my hand. Phil’s breathing turned hoarse and uneven, but I looked up at him to make sure I was doing it right.

  His eyes widened and he groaned. “Oh fuck…I can’t… I can’t hold out if you…” He abruptly pulled out of my mouth and slid down the couch until he was lying flat. He grabbed me by the hips, spread my legs wide, and positioned me over his mouth. Oh man, was he going to do this again? This was like my birthday, Christmas, and the playoffs in one wet, fantastic package! I involuntarily let out a little yelp of pleasure and Phil chuckled.

  He kissed me right between the legs. “You’re so pretty down here, Kel.”

  “I am?” It wasn’t something I’d noticed or even looked at much. As in ever.

  “Yeah, nice,” he ran his hand over my hair there, “Natural.” Phew. I trimmed myself but I wasn’t all waxed or shaved like some girls. Maybe Phil was used to girls with an arrow down there, pointing to the action. Then he started licking me again. He made his tongue into a point and pushed it into my clit. That felt incredible and I froze my lower body in place, wanting to feel every sensation.

  “Oh fuck, yes,” I breathed. He kept licking and sucking, and I couldn’t believe all the sensations inside me. This seemed to get better each time! My body started to go out of control, I was wriggling all over the place, breathing hard and making little noises. Phil had to hold onto my thighs to keep me from flying off the couch. But this time, before I actually came, Phil stopped.

  I made a disappointed whimper and he laughed again.

  “Don’t worry, Kel. You’ll like it this way too.” He reached for one the many condom packages he had optimistically left on the side table.

  “Let me,” I said. After everything he had done for me, I felt like I wanted to do more for him. I took one and awkwardly ripped it open and put it on.

  Phil had to coach me. “Uh, not tight like that. You have to leave some room at the tip, for… you know.”

  “Oh sorry.” Great, apologizing at a time like this. A true Canadian moment.

  When I was done, I twisted around and positioned myself above him. I was so ready.

  Phil smiled up at me.

  “Look at you, aren’t you the pro? Ready to ride, cowgirl?”

  “Yeehaw.” With one hand, I parted myself and hovered above his straining cock.

  Maybe I didn’t have much experience, but I did have strong thighs, and I lowered myself onto him super slowly. Phil was groaning and pushing up his hips. I rode him with deliberate motions, moving up until he almost fell out and moving all the way down. It felt unreal when I hit bottom and there was friction on my clit as well.

  I was still a little worried though. “Um, am I going the right speed?” I asked Phil after a couple of minutes.

  “Oh fuck—it’s good. Just go—what… uh, feels good to you.” Phil seemed to be having trouble forming a complete sentence.

  What felt good to me was changing things up, sometimes super-slow and sometimes really fast. Judging by the sounds he was making, Phil seemed to like that too. I could see him watching me, watching my breasts move and looking at my whole body. That was a turn on for me. Phil was right, him getting me all excited first was making sex way better. The soreness was replaced by these great sensations. Each stroke was lighting me up inside, making me want more and more of him. I loved the feeling of Phil inside me—like he was supposed to be there.

  Phil cried out and then grabbed me around the waist and started moving me up and down on top of him, really fast. I had the craziest sensations inside and my body was limp, like all our energy was going to the place we were linked together. Then I had a huge crashing orgasm. Oh God, so good. Phil arched his back and when he came he yelled out, “Oh fuck, Kelly.”

  Wow. I could get pretty addicted to this sex stuff.

  31

  Congrats

  “And the award for Rookie of the Year goes to Kelly Tanaka!”

  This news was greeted with laughter and jeers from my teammates. I went up to accept the little plaque from my coaches, Peter and Marsha.

  “Thanks.” I waved it in the air to more laughter and went back to the table. We were in the private room of a restaurant for our end-of-season party.

  “Yeah, Tank, not bad for your first year. Keep it up and you may have a future in hockey,” Rosie teased. The running joke was that I was a rookie because, even though I had played hockey longer than almost everyone on the team, it was my first year in girls’ hockey.

  “You should be playing spring hockey with us,” said Hilary who was sitting beside me.

  Even Laura nodded at this comment. After a rough start, we got along okay now. I think it got better after I had set her up for a few sweet goals since she figured that playing with me was going to boost her stats. But other than the power play, we hardly ever played on the same line because we were both really good.

  Although Laura was still the best player on the
team, I turned out to be a close second. Not that I would ever say that to anyone, because hockey’s not like that. But I was pretty good at evaluating, and I could see that my skill set was perfectly suited to the Avalanche game. I wasn’t the smallest player anymore, and I could play a more out-there game and not worry about getting smushed like a bug. I had always been fast, but now the aggression I developed from playing with guys was a huge advantage. I still got the occasional penalty, but I had learnt the line between legal contact and hits.

  “I don’t play spring hockey,” I told Hilary. I had done research into hockey training, and many of the top players and coaches believed that playing hockey all year round could lead to repetitive strain injuries. They recommended taking up another sport in the off-season. So, in the spring I did track and played in a pickup soccer league.

  “Too bad,” Hilary said. “We could really use you for scoring.” This year I had my biggest point total ever, mainly assists but some goals too.

  “Oh my God, I still can’t forget that beautiful goal you scored in the semi’s up at the Mac’s tournament,” Lily said. She was my biggest fan club ever since I had challenged the bullying and cliquishness. “That was insane.”

  “We already knew Kelly was insane from the moment she broke up with Nicklas Ericcson,” said Kelsey, who was Laura’s BFF and still hadn’t gotten the memo on leaving me alone.

  “Get with the program,” Lily scoffed. “Have you not seen her new boyfriend? He picks her up after games and stuff. He is hotness personified. He makes Ericcson look like…” she searched for the worst description, “…dog poo!”

  “No shit,” said Marissa, who went to my school but was a year younger. “She’s dating Phil Davidson.”

  A few girls knew him and made low growls of approval.

  Laura gave me a tight smile. “It’s tough to understand how someone who forgets to comb her hair after a game can attract so many hotties.” I shrugged, but she was right. I didn’t totally understand it myself.

  As confident as I felt about hockey, the whole world of grooming, dressing, and looking good remained a big void for me, despite April’s constant tutoring. After one failed attempt to colour-code my outfits, April had insisted on a variety of cute tops and tight jeans, which could be mixed and matched without error. I was trying, but I still made mistakes all the time. Like not understanding which tops were dressy and which were casual. And apparently not fixing my hair up the right way. I did comb it, but I never attempted Laura’s complicated buns or braids.

  Then she brought up the one subject that always made me anxious. “I got an offer from Quinnipiac last week. What schools have you heard from, Kelly?”

  “I got into U.B.C.,” I muttered. I had no interest from U.S. colleges once they saw my shitty SAT scores. I couldn’t even spell Quinny-whatever.

  “Oh. Do they even have a women’s hockey program?” she asked, knowing full well they did.

  Apparently the mention of Nicklas Ericcson had put her back into full-bitch-mode. Rosie told me that Laura had gone after him again, once we had broken up. Fail. If only I had heard from McGill. Someone said they were disorganized there, and I couldn’t expect to hear early, but still it was a worry. Meantime, everyone else was chiming in with their plans for next year. A few people were playing at college or university, but most were done with competitive hockey. Some of the girls were going to put together a team to play rec league.

  I had fun at the wrap-up party. Despite the occasional bitchiness, I had loved my year with the Avalanche. This season, we were one of the best teams in the league, and being the frontrunner meant everyone brought their A-game for us and we had to perform every time. The best part was being on a team where everyone cared about hockey. In boy’s rec, there were always a few indifferent guys who were there because it was their dads’ dream or out of habit. But all the girls on my team had competed hard to be on the top team, and they were all committed. I loved knowing that we shared that drive and everyone was giving 100%.

  My teammates weren’t the only ones who were making plans for next year. All my friends had their own paths. Most people were going to go to U.B.C., including Charmaine and Phil. Some of them, like Marcus and Peter, were staying in Vancouver, but going to college instead. Karen, who was a huge animal lover, had found some holistic veterinary college in San Diego, where she was going to train to become a dog masseuse. April had wisecracked about that career choice for weeks, but Karen was really looking forward to a chance to live in California and spend time with her dad.

  April was going to study acting at a local academy and go all out with auditions. We discussed it at her house one day after school.

  “High school has been holding me back,” she said. “Now that I don’t have to go to class, I’ll be free to audition my head off.”

  “Speaking as the person who takes notes for you, I don’t feel that class attendance has ever been your big priority.”

  “Whoop-de-doodle. I’m still getting good marks.”

  I nodded. April could get better marks than me, even when she was using my notes. She was a classic underachiever who only applied herself to things that interested her. I had to work hard for every decent mark I got. Totally unfair.

  “Have you heard from McGill yet?”

  “Nope. Nothing.”

  Once I decided to go to McGill, I had gotten all pumped up, imagining my new teammates and life in Montréal, which was the most exciting city in Canada. But now that everyone else had heard from their first choices, I was worried. My marks were good, but McGill was one of the highest ranked schools in Canada, and there was only so much a hockey coach could do.

  “Oh well, if worst comes to worst, you’ll stay here. Hanging out with me and dating Phil. Probably not the most horrible life.”

  “Mmmm,” I agreed. Yesterday was another Wednesday, and it had been pretty incredible.

  “So, how’s everything with Phil?” April asked.

  “You’re not asking about my sex life again, are you? That’s getting weird.” April seemed to think that Phil had some special techniques that she could get her boyfriends to perform on her as well. Actually he did, but I certainly wasn’t telling. For starters, I didn’t think I had the anatomical vocab for the task: “And then he strokes his you-know-what against my thingy.…”

  “For once, no. I’m asking about the whole ‘feelings’ thing,” she said, making air quotes.

  I thought about this. I was really into Phil. A lot of it was wrapped up with sex. Now that hockey was over—sex was my favourite physical activity. I didn’t know if it was the sex itself or the sex with Phil, but I was pretty sure that it was the sex with Phil.

  Of course we got along awesomely when we weren’t doing it too. We did tons of outdoor stuff now that the weather was nicer. And we had these great conversations. I knew he was way smarter than me, but he always listened to my opinions and he liked to share his problems and ideas. And we laughed a lot.

  Great sex and good times. Ninety-five percent of the time, we had a perfect thing going. But I was a tiny bit afraid of Phil. I was afraid that if I let down my guard, he was going to hurt me. I had already been a back seat observer to many of the car crashes that were Phil’s previous relationships. As soon as girls got too needy or possessive, Phil was out of there. I knew that Phil and I were different: we had a good relationship from way back and we weren’t going to get all mushy and weird because we were dating. But there were times, after we had sex, did something fun, or even after a good laugh, times that I felt something—I didn’t know even how to describe it—a closeness, a tenderness. I wanted to hold Phil and tell him how good I felt with him, but I never did. I was afraid that if I went all emo that maybe Phil would think that I was turning into another clingy girlfriend. So I kept things cool, and never let Phil know that whole soft side of me. I figured things were better that way.

  “Everything’s fine,” I said to April.

  She raised a perfectly-plucked eyebrow
. “It only took you five minutes to figure that out. Which makes me suspect there are snakes in paradise. And not trouser snakes either.”

  I laughed. “No, I was only trying to be honest. It’s not like we’re a big deal. Once September comes, I’m out of here.” I held up crossed fingers. “Hopefully, anyway.”

  “I’m sure you’ll get in, Kelly,” April said, and she gave me an unexpected hug. April knew me well; she could tell that I was worried about my university future, even though I never said a word. She and Phil both claimed that my every thought was written on my face.

  I walked home from April’s place through the forest trail. A little bird hopped close to me, daring me to catch him as he tried to decoy me from the location of his nest. I followed him until he flew off, happy that his trick had worked. I walked in the house and hung up my jean jacket. I heard my mom’s voice calling, “Kelly? Is that you?”

  “Yeah, sorry I’m late. I went to April’s after school.” My mom didn’t really care about that stuff as long as I was home for dinner. She knew I had lots of different activities and she was vague about schedules anyway. I was even surprised she was in the house, since she usually worked in the studio right up until Dad got home.

  She came into the kitchen, waving a large envelope and smiling. “I’ve been waiting for you. You got mail.”

  The return address showed the red logo of McGill University, I ripped it open and read, “It is our pleasure to offer you….”

  “Oh my God! I’m in!”

  My mom beamed. “I thought so, a big envelope is always good news!” She gave me a squishy hug. “Congratulations, darling.” I was so happy and I hugged her back hard. I sat down at the kitchen table to read through all the documents. “Be sure to call your dad,” said my mom and then she drifted back to her studio.