Talk to Blair

You must admit, you don’t know much about hockey. The basics are simple, hit the ball into the goal using the sticks, but there’s loads of other rules which you don’t understand. Your school stuck to football, for both boys and girls, and football is simple, because there aren’t any sticks. Also, the addition of two umpires appears to complicate matters. They tend to stick to a half, but there’s instances where one blows their whistle and then they have to explain why not just to the girls but to the other umpire as well.

There’s a simple scoreboard at one end of the field, which a couple of girls maintain. That’s just as well, because if there wasn’t, you’d soon forget what the score was.

Halftime sees St Perpetua’s up by one and starting to show their dominance. The other school has been called up multiple times for tripping.

It’s in the second half that Blair sidles up to you. You’ve been feeling her gaze drifting towards you throughout the first half.

“Come to cheer on the girls?” she asks as she gets close.

“This is the first proper game of the season, I thought I’d support the school.”

“The girls will appreciate it. Although I don’t know if the opposition will.”

“What do you mean?”

She looks at you with her blue eyes filled with pity and confusion. Why would she look at you this way? It’s an odd expression to give you.

“I could say it’s the first game of the season, so the girls are trying extra hard to impress, but I think that’s not true. They’re efforts are especially hard down this end of the pitch. They’re not trying to impress me. They’re trying to impress you.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Don’t pretend you’re all innocent. It doesn’t become you. We all know why they’d want to impress you more than they’d want to impress me.”

Alright, and once Blair’s mentioned it, you can’t help but notice. Yes, the side of the pitch you’re on does appear to be getting the majority of the play. And the girls are paying attention to the ball, but you can’t help noticing their glances towards you. And when you catch a girl looking, she smiles demurely then returns to the game. It makes the newly minted monster in your trousers stir with the possibilities.

“Is it improving their game, or worsening it?”

“Both. They’re trying things they wouldn’t normally try, just to impress you. But they keep being distracted. We should be winning this game comfortably, but there’s a few girls out there complicating their game, and there’s a few girls out there who aren’t concentrating enough.”

“You want me to leave?”

Blair looks at you. The odd looks you spy in the girls, is present in her blue orbs. She has the same emotions. She’s just older and thus better able to control them. You’re very much aware of the bosom straining against her top, of her slim figure, of her taut ass, of her muscular legs.

“Oh no,” she whispers, and in those words, she can’t disguise her lust. She’s interested. You’ve never imagined a woman built like her would be interested in you. Tall. Fit. Plentiful curves in all the right places. Didn’t the others call her a man eater? Under those eyes you can’t help imagining how it would be to be eaten. You can’t imagine it’s unpleasant.

“I’m just trying to decide where best to deploy you, our secret weapon. Your effect is most obvious in our girls, but the opposition isn’t immune. I’m thinking maybe behind the goal we’re attacking.”

You don’t know whether you’re insulted or flattered. Any attractive woman telling you that you’re handsome should be flattery. But the fact Blair just believes she can use you for her own team’s advantage is insulting.

“I’m not a piece of meat.” The smirk on Blair’s face tells you that’s exactly what she thinks you are. A piece of meat and a pawn to be manipulated.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” you tell her. “Tell the girls I was impressed.”

Blair spins to face you and coincidentally block you from everyone else. Her hand reaches out to your groin, where it can cup the swelling your trousers are trying to obscure. Cloth is not going to hide the semi-erection. Her first touch is tentative. As she feels its length the touch becomes more aggressive, more possessive.

“Oh, I can tell. Is that for me? Or is that for the girls? It’d better be for me.”

You spin and walk away. No way you can handle this anymore. You mustget out of there before you do something stupid.