The Hockey Team Pt 01

I set my suitcase down. I've made it. I'm at Princeton, studying to be an electrical engineer. I made it because I had to. Most of my family wanted me to return to the country my father emigrated from to be given away in an arranged marriage. He is the only open-minded person in the whole extended tribe. Everybody else believes a girl's education should consist of learning to cook, before she is married off and feeds her husband and children. I wanted a career: a life and name of my own. So I gave everything to studying, and my father persuaded enough of them that I would earn enough money to secure their old age.

So here I am, about to start classes. My family's strictness has followed me here. He's paid extra for me to be in a single-person dorm, as my aunt related stories of roommates getting up to all sorts of ungodly things. So I am alone, I'll stay by myself, study, and get that job in four years. Then I can work, provide for others in the family, and make something of myself. I had two suitors before I joined. Nice men it seemed, but neither of them excited me. Neither of them made me want to leave studying or give up a job. Does such a man exist? What's it like to forget about work, and make another human your life? My family made sure I committed everything to studying. I got in on my grades and on a music scholarship due to playing the violin daily from age 5. Outside of that, I confess I'm innocent.

My dorm is opposite a field, and outside older girls are playing hockey. It looks exciting, but rough and dirty. I didn't play sports, it's considered obscene for girls to be competitive in my culture. I focused on sitting and learning, my family used to say I needed food to power my brain. So I am shaped differently to the girls out there on the field. I have two layers of belly fat, they seem to just be muscle.

I notice one girl; as the match ends she seems to be the leader of the winning team. She high-fives her teammates. Tall, blonde, with the largest amount of arm and leg muscle I've ever seen. I wonder if she has the abs I've occasionally noticed on Olympic athletes.

I leave my room. I want to inquire, see if I can join a beginner hockey team. It looks fun, exhilarating, and after years of academic work and music playing I need to try something different. I get to the field, hoping to ask someone if they allow freshmen to join a beginner team and learn to play.

The team I saw was still in the field, practising some moves. I felt nervous to ask them, they would surely laugh at me when they see me. A fat freshman who's never played hockey or any sport before. But maybe they'd know if there's even a beginner team on the campus.

However, as I stand looking lost, the team leader girl I saw earlier notices me. She asks if she can help me and I say I'm looking to learn to play hockey. I find out she's a senior, and helps coach the freshman girls teams. Tomorrow at 3pm is the first practise session. Come along.

Her name is Marina, that's the most I could get as her teammates called her to go and change. All of them are beautifully athletic women. Sculpted muscles, rosy cheeks, and legs which can seemingly run and shoot the hockey ball for hours without tiring.

I take a trip to the campus clothes store to buy some kit. I don't really know what to wear, but I get a comfortable t-shirt, shorts, and studded boots. I finish dinner and go to bed - it was a long journey to Princeton. But at night I struggle to sleep. I can't stop thinking of the hockey team. Particularly Marina. She's gorgeous. An athlete. A leader. If she was here now she would protect me. Perhaps one day I'll make it onto her team, and afterwards we could relax in a hot tub together. I could look through the bubbles and admire the abs that are surely pert underneath her hockey shirt.

Stop it. What are you thinking? What would your family say if they knew you were thinking about a girl like that? They barely tolerate you being an independent student. Under no circumstances can you even dream about admiring another woman. You're to keep yourself beautiful for your man. You don't desire anyone yourself.

The next day I have my first classes. But the thought of hockey, and seeing Marina again, consumes me. I manage to focus, learning about logic gates in circuits, but it's a struggle. I want to see her again. I want to admire that wonderful body. I want to learn to play a sport and be with her as we win.

3pm comes round and I'm on the field. There's about a dozen girls here, all new and looking awkward. Then Marina and one of her teammates from yesterday arrive. Soon we're practising. I'm not good. I miss the ball the first three times I try to hit it, one time even knocking my big toe. I cry in pain and Marina comes to me. Sees that I will be OK, tells me to focus, and holds my stick for me. She shows me how to take a stroke, and I finally hit it. By the end of the session I was able to get it into the net without a keeper there.

As it ended, I got close to Marina in order to talk to her. I asked her: "where can we shower?" My family would tell me to go back to my dorm, they wouldn't approve of me even being out here. But I'm an adult. I'm in America, and I will be free.

"In the shower block. Come with me and I'll show you," she replies. I'm excited, and my tummy flutters. I think I blushed. Showering is something I do every day, but with Marina there - I might see her muscles wet and soapy. Wow.

We get to the shower block. Still nervous, I tell Marina "I didn't bring a towel or change of clothes."

"Don't worry, I keep spares. I've got a nice big woollen towel to wrap you in."

We get into the ladies block. There are lockers, a big floor, and a row of showers. It's hard to see in because of the steam, but the showers are close together.

"Don't we have separate cubicles? I've never showered like this before."

"No we shower together. It's fun, we laugh and chat as we wash. I'll show you."

Im embarrassed. I'd be naked, exposed, in front of other women. I've always been very private, kept to myself. Plus these are athletes with bodies like the ancient Amazonians. I'm a lump.

Marina notices my worries. She holds my left hand: "don't be shy, come on in."

"I might wait until after everyone's finished."

"Don't be silly. You can't be on a team if you can't be friends with your teammates. Just follow me in."

And with that Marina takes off her hockey shirt, unclips her bra, and places them in a bag in her locker. I'm transfixed. Her body is even more athletic than I imagined. Abs and sides strong and visible. Her arms show the biceps and triceps you see on Olympians. Her breasts are medium-sized, with slightly larger nipples than mine. She's an absolute perfect form. I want to follow her in, but her body is so much better than mine I'm nervous.

"Wow," I manage to joke. "I'll need to do a lot of hockey to look like that."

"Hey we all start somewhere. You'll be an asset to the freshman team we put you in."

Marina takes off her boots, her socks, her shorts, and her underwear. I know I shouldn't stare, but she is irresistible. Legs defined, buttocks defined, a small and shapely amount of public hair. I want to be her. And whatever my family say, I like her.

I don't hesitate anymore. I undress, and she notices how quickly I do. She smiles, then when I've taken my clothes off she again takes my left hand and leads me to the shower. I walk behind her, admiring her muscular buttocks and how they seem to twitch gracefully as she walks. We get to the showers, and other girls are washing their hair and bodies. I've never seen women naked like this before. So many beautiful women, so much better than me. Will they laugh at me? Marina doesn't seem to, she seems to want to befriend me. So I let her.

She takes me to my shower. In her other hand is a wash bag. She opens it. "You can use any of these. Shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, face wash."

She presses the buttons to turn both my shower and hers on. The water is warm and steamy, but comfortable.

"Take some." She gestures with a bottle of shower gel and I hold out my hands. But she moves the bottle too far, and it pours over my chest.

"Whoops" she says, and starts rubbing it over me. First over my stomach rolls, then over my left breast, then over the right. Is this OK? One girl further down sees us, and gently smiles. I wonder, does Marina have a reputation? Does she look after every nervous new girl like this? Even if I'm not the only one it feels lovely. Her hands feel smooth, and they lift up my breasts to wash under there. The water turns off and she puts the bottle on the rack.

"Finish washing, then let's get ready." Get ready for what? I'm not sure if she has anything else planned, but I wash my face, hair, and rinse everything. She rinses too, then says "let's get dry and dressed again."

She walks to the end of the shower block, takes a small towel for herself and that big woollen towel she mentioned earlier. She comes up to me, throws it over my hair and round my body then ties it in the middle. "Come on, I've got a change of clothes."

"What are we getting ready for?"

"If you've not got plans, I'll cook for us both. My way of introducing you to the team."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I've got some beef chilli I can make."

"Thank you." She gives me some baggy spare clothes, I put them on and put my dirty clothes in her bag. Marina takes out from the locker a flowery dress, yellow roses on a light turquoise background. She also has cream heels. I'm surprised, I've only ever seen her sporty.

"Different from your hockey uniform!"

"Yes I like to dress up when I have guests. I'm a girly girl as well."

She takes my hand again and we leave the block. I feel led by her, protected, and that I need what she is showing me. We get to her room, also a solo and slightly bigger than mine. There is a double bed, a TV on the wall, and an en suite shower.

"How hungry are you?" she asks me.

"A bit, but I can wait." I'd like to eat but I want time with her. I feel there's something special about the moment now, and I don't want to spoil it.

"Good, then take your shoes off and come sit down."

I slide them off, Marina is already sitting on the bed. I sit next to her. I'm still shy, still unsure. She goes to the baggy t-shirt, to lift it up, but I push it down.

"You know I've not done anything like this before. This is so new to me."

"I could tell. That's why I've had my eye out for you."

"You do this with lots of new girls?"

"The particularly innocent ones yes. I like to introduce them to women, show them what it's like."

Do I want to be shown? Yes I do. I can't remember having these feelings for a girl before, but then I never had them for a guy. The pressure of studying and succeeding consumed my mind for years. I buried any sexuality deep down, repressed it until today. Now it's going to release in floods.

I let her take off my shirt, and she gently squeezes both my nipples.

"Take everything off and lie on the bed."

I do as she says. I watch her unzip the turquoise flower dress, again unclip her bra, and on seeing that muscular, naked beauty I feel the bed become wet. I've soaked, that's a first time. I had heard of squirting and soaking but it had never happened to me. In my culture a woman touching herself and getting pleasure is considered obscene. And I followed that. I followed that until I saw Marina, and her perfect athletic form took hold of me.

She opens her phone, then the TV turns on to a YouTube video of Olympic gymnastics. Marina goes down to my right breast, sucks the nipple, then whispers in my ear: "imagine her on you. Without the leotard, just that supple body wrapped around your legs. Keep thinking of it."

I stare at the TV as she kisses both my breasts, then rolls her tongue over my stomach. She attentively licks throughout my rolls and I giggle with joy. I think I'll soak the bed again soon. I watch the gymnasts doing splits, their muscly legs and nicely tied hair making me boil up with desire. Marina starts to go further down, her tongue on my private area.

I dry slightly, feeling a pang of guilt. This is not what I'm supposed to do. My culture considers homosexuality sinful, depraved, unthinkable. But these women - all of them - Marina, the lithe and toned gymnasts, all of them are truly beautiful. Who wouldn't want them? What sin is there in wanting girls so gorgeous, and enjoying the pleasure of each other's bodies?

I decide to embrace it, and with a slight flush of confidence I push Marina's head down so she stays between my legs. Her tongue goes deeper into me. I'm not sure but I think she's reached the g-spot. I'd heard of it before but I'm not sure where it is. I only know her tongue is where it should be. I cry out again, and feel myself go wet. Marina comes forward, I notice her face is slightly dripping. She smiles, and licks it off her cheeks. She presses her arms hard on my shoulders.

Now I'm hers. Were I to resist, I couldn't. This is it then. It's happening and I can't believe it. My first time, my first sexual encounter is not with my arranged husband. It's with a girl, with a hockey girl who likes girls. And who's showed me that I too like and yearn for girls.

I feel both our clitorises touch. I'm aware of anatomy, although I was strictly forbidden to touch any of it. Marina moves up and down fast, and both of us wince as we thrust together. I let out another cry while she holds hers in. She breaks the thrust to move up near my face. Then she cries, releases, and soaks my hair, my cheeks, soaks down my neck.

Im buzzing with the pleasure as she lies on the bed, takes me onto her right breast, and repeatedly kisses my forehead. My mouth is wide open with joy. And on the TV the gymnasts are still there, one having a pretty purple leotard and large breasts faintly visible.

If only I could take that girl from the TV into my room, and us both be nude. If Marina moves on to another girl, fine. I'm not that innocent studious one anymore. I'll have sapphic sex with the whole hockey team if I can. They're all gorgeous. College is going to be different from how my family imagined it. I've found myself. Marina, whose breast I lie on, revealed to me who I am and what I desire.