The sky threatened snow but I hoped it would hold off just long enough to get through the game. We were 23-18 down with two minutes to go. Scoring a winning try would be hard enough even without snow. It was the annual police service vs fire service rugby match. The match was a big deal, enough to draw a fairly large crowd despite the weather. Amongst that crowd was my girlfriend. It still felt weird to say that. Lauren watched on, wrapped up as much as possible but even from my vantage point there was no way to hide her beauty.
The ball had gone out of play near the opposition try line. It was our ball and in my role as fly half, it would be my job to make a play for the win if we won the line out. The ball was thrown in and taken securely by one of our players who tossed it down to our scrum half. He was alongside me, and passed the ball sideways to me. I caught it and ran. Two opposition players were the only thing between me and the try line. I glanced to my right and weighed up offloading the ball to one of my teammates. Maybe it was Lauren in the crowd and my desire to impress her, maybe it was the best move; either way, I went it alone.
I faked a pass, which took one of the defenders out of the game. It was one on one now, only a hulking fireman was stopping me scoring. I took a risk. With as much strength as I could muster, I barrelled into the fireman. He was not expecting it- I'm sure not many players had been stupid enough the try and go through him- and it knocked him off balance. I darted in the opposite direction of his momentum and dived for the line. Arms outstretched, I just about made sure the ball touched the line. The referee's whistle and the cheers of my teammates confirmed I had scored.
I was pulled up by them and embraced in celebration. However, I was only concerned about the opinions of one person. I found Lauren in the crowd. She was the most enthusiastic of all of them. I was sure I could hear her shout 'That's my boyfriend!' above the noise of the crowd.
A try was only worth five points, though, which meant it was a 23-23 draw. However, scoring a try earned you the chance to take a conversation and kick the ball through the posts for two extra points. As fly half, the responsibility rested on my shoulders. I grabbed the ball and the kicking tee from the side of the pitch. After carefully setting it up and marking out my run up. I composed myself. There was no time left on the clock, this would be the last act of the game. I looked to the posts and then the ball. I took a breath and started my run up. My foot connected sweetly with the ball, which sailed over between the posts.
My team and our supporters erupted into jubilant cheers. The referee blew the final whistle. We had won! After a lot of man hugs and high fives, I was hoisted into the air on the shoulders of two of the bigger members of the team. I could see Lauren from where I was, but she was less ecstatic than everyone else. She was not cheering. From what I could see, she had a strange look on her face, one I had not seen before. After the guys had put me down, I jogged over to her. She wrapped her arms around my muddy and sweaty body and whispered in my ear, "I need you right now."
My heart skipped a beat. I was not sure how, because all the blood had certainly rushed in the other direction. I had been waiting for this moment for weeks. We had more than passed Lauren's eight date rule but she wanted the moment to be 'just right'. Now, with me sweaty and covered in mud, was apparently the right moment.
"The guys would get a right treat if we just got down to it in the middle of the pitch," I laughed.
"You have thirty seconds to come up with a better idea, or that is exactly what is happening," she replied, utterly serious. Panicking she wasn't joking, my brain worked quickly. I took her by the hand and led her towards the herd of exhausted players heading to the changing rooms. At least the facilities were better than the last time I played rugby. Back then, a working communal shower would have been a luxury; now, at the Fire and Rescue HQ's state of the art sports complex, we had access to individual cubicles and luxury on par with a hotel spa.
"Coming for a drink after, McCreanor," one of the lads on my team shouted. I thought I knew what my answer should be, but I looked at Lauren for confirmation. Her opinion was clear.
"Maybe, mate, might have to shoot off though," I replied.
"Alright, see you up there maybe."
He, headed into the changing room, along with the rest of the guys, but I hung back. I still had Lauren's hand and I pulled her into the room opposite the men's changing room. The female officers had a game on too but they were using the Police HQ, which meant no one would be using their changing room here.
As soon as the door closed behind us, Lauren was on me. Her lips pressed firmly against mine for a moment before our tongues began to dance. We stumbled back into the main area of the changing rooms and began desperately undressing each other. The lust and desire we had for each other had been building over the last couple of months and was all about to come to a head; it was carnal.
I eventually got Lauren out of enough layers that just her t-shirt and jeans remained, no mean feat considering how wrapped up she was. I pulled the former over her head, exposing a lacy, red bra- my favourite. It was not long before the jeans followed, revealing a matching thong. She knew this was my favourite lingerie of hers and what it did to me. Maybe she had this planned all along.
Before I really noticed, Lauren had stripped me to my boxer briefs. Maintaining the kiss, and the grip on her body, I skilfully kicked the discarded clothes into the locker and slammed it shut. My hands went to Lauren's ample arse and squeezed roughly. I used my grip to hoist her up, so she could wrap her legs around my waist. I leant her against the lockers. We continued kissing. It was getting more intense. More passionate. More urgent.
Fearing my full proof plan was not quite as full proof as I hoped it would be and that someone would come in, I carried Lauren over to the showers. The setup was gorgeous. Well-lit, individual opaque cubicles with power shower; unless you had a ladder or got down on your hands and knees, you would not be able to tell both of us were in there.
I set Lauren down and turned on the shower. The cubicle was big enough the shower could run but we could be out of the jet stream. Lauren took charge now and shoved me up against the door. It vibrated with the weight of me. She kissed my neck. Then my collarbone. My chest. Abs. Pelvis. She knelt down; the water pooled around her legs. I stared up at the ceiling as she removed my underwear, tired back her jet-black hair and got to work. Ordinarily, I would like nothing more than to watch her but I wanted this to last and that would do nothing to help.
