First Skate

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A 'chance encounter' on ice.
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LaJan
LaJan
14 Followers

"Wow! I can't believe this line! Are all these people waiting for a turn to freeze their asses off? This is a joke!" The constant complaining of the father in front of me almost became pleasant; against the blaring Christmas carols, the light rail bells and whistles, the passing traffic, the tourists, and the screaming children, this guy seemed benign indeed.

I had said I was going to do it and here I was: ice skating for the first time. I just didn't picture the crowds nor the throngs of children. Of all the possible nightmares in my life, a long & slow line with a large group of kids is right up there near the top. And to think I picked this day and this time just so I would be able to try to skate in peace. Go figure, huh?

The temporary ice skating rink at Saint Rose of Lima Park has been around for at least 10 years between Thanksgiving and New Year's but I have only passed by and glanced in. I always thought that I could skate, and, once I had become proficient at roller blades, I was sure I could ice skate. Nobody has agreed with that opinion but nobody thought I'd go five years without wearing protective pads while riding the roller blades and never fall once, either. Besides, I'm over 30 now and I know what I can do and what I can't, right? Right!

"Excuse me, but do you have the time?" the girl behind me asked. From the sound of her voice, I almost said, 'Yes, but do you have the place?' but those are the things one thinks but never says when one is as shy as I am.

"It's 3:47", I said turning to see who had spoken. Man, was I glad I did! She had entered the line sometime in the last few minutes but I had not noticed her because of the crowd and the noise. But, looking at her was something that transgressed 'noticing' her. She stood about 5'10", 135 lbs., with long, dark brown hair, freckles(?), and a 2000 watt smile. She wore a long and heavy cold-weather coat which pretty much covered up her figure but, from what I could see, it didn't hide anything I'd kick out of bed!

She obviously caught me checking her out but offered a quick and easy smile that seemed to say, 'OK, you've had your look; are you an asshole or an alright dude'. I hoped that my smile and glance away from her indicated the latter. From the response, I rated the latter:

"And I thought I'd beat the brats here after school!" she said with an open smile and a wistful toss of her head. Her hair seemed to sparkle in the high lighting of the overcast day, a huge contrast to the bleak colours of our immediate surroundings.

From over my shoulder, we heard, "Brats? You haven't even begun to see brats! This line's movin' so slow we'll be lucky if most of the old people don't die of exposure or old age! My name's Mike, by the way. And, you're...?" Mike (the complainer from in front of me) all but pushed me to the side as he reached out to shake her gloved hand. She appeared to be as startled as I was by 'Mike's' sudden intrusion. I actually felt a tweak of something (anger? jealousy? chagrin?).

"My name is Ann," she offered and took his hand. He seemed like the type that would be reluctant to let it go anytime soon, but Ann was ready for that possibility. She smiled quickly to him and turned to me:

"And, your name is?"

"I'm Richard. Pleased to meet you!" I said offering her my bare hand, as I wore no gloves. Mike was still reluctant to release it but only waited a moment too long. Taking her hand, she wrapped her other around mine, tipping her head slightly towards me but saying to us both:

"It is a pleasure meeting you both." This time, it was my hand that wasn't released quickly, and it would have been alright if she had held it for the rest of the day, if she wanted. 'Mikey' noticed this and spoke up right away.

"You might be warm enough with no gloves now, but you'll freeze your fingers off out there on the ice. You should have brought gloves. They sell them across the street at the men's store. I'll save your place in line while you get some."

'Not a chance, jerk' was running through my mind and the hesitation caused both Ann and I to speak at the same time.

"That's OK", came out of both of us, and she graced us (me?) with that smile again.

"Suit yourself, buddy. But, you'll regret it." 'Mikey' sullenly turned back, again facing the front of the line. I'm not sure why I suddenly think of him as 'Mikey'. Shit, who am I fooling? I hate his guts and I don't even know him!

Ann mouthed the words, 'thank you', and gave me a wink. I made a comic facial shrug and she released my hand to cover the giggle that threatened to burst from her mouth.

Speaking softly and leaning a bit closer (thinking 'what, exactly, does my breath smell like right now?') I said,

"I'm sort of used to the cold if it's not too windy but you can keep my hand warm for as long as you like. Or at least until we get to the front of the line." I'm thinking I could have come up with something better than that, couldn't I?

"My gloves are warm on the inside but I'll only consider allowing you in them if you start suffering from hypothermia." Spoken equally quietly with a straight face but also a twinkle in her eyes.

"I guess I should wish for a blizzard," I muttered. She said nothing so she must not have heard me or cared to respond. Which? It never really mattered because we drifted from small talk to comfortable silences to more small talk, and I didn't hear a word: she was holding my right hand and I could think of little else that mattered more in the world.

When we got up to the ticket window, I noticed 'Mikey' waiting close by. His three kids (truly, monsters from hell) were whining for help putting on their skates but still he lingered. I pretended not to notice him and paid for one session for Ann and me. As I told the woman at the window what I wanted, I favoured 'Mikey' with a completely innocent (yeah, right!) smile and was shocked to see that Ann had seen me do it. I must have turned every shade of red and she laughed while slowly shaking her head. 'Mikey' went to his kids and I busied myself with putting my skates on. Ann had skated before so she was finished before I was and helped me with the rest.

"You look scared."

"No, of course not," I lied.

"The first time can be a lot of fun if you're patient."

I took a deep breath and tried to stand on the rubber changing area's floor. I was up and not wobbly at all.

"However, the first time ice skating can be less than fun," she added."

It took a couple of heartbeats to register. I looked into her face, probably with wonder plastered on mine, and promptly fell backwards over the bench I had just left. The only person not laughing was Ann ('Mikey's' bellowing laughter could be heard very well, thank you) and she was nearly biting her lower lip off. My composure lost along with my 'I'm in control' demeanour, I gratefully accepted her help up.

"Off to a marvelous start, but don't worry it will be fun!" Ann said, with the kindness not to rub it into my bruised ego.

And, with surprisingly little help, I was able to reach the ice. Waiting for a small clear space between skaters, Ann gave me a few tips. My first touch of the ice gave me a healthy respect (substitute 'fear') for the slippery surface, but I got my feet under me easily enough and pushed off. It was immediately clear that Ann was an accomplished skater and she stayed close enough to help if I needed it and far enough away to avoid my flailing arms. Soon, we were both talking and laughing around the small oval rink. I eventually looked around for 'Mikey' and spotted him picking up one of his brats while the other two clung to his legs and screamed. It was all I could do not to fall while Ann and I surreptitiously watched and laughed.

I had lost track of time while having such a good time with Ann. I'm not sure how long I skated before it happened but, up until then, I never fell. Ann had said something silly and I was laughing when she yelled, "Look out!"

Immediately in front of me, a boy had fallen with his fingers directly in front of my skates. In the background, I heard someone yelling ("Michael!") and I had just enough time before I jumped to see that, yes, the kid did look like a mini 'Mikey'. Laughing was the last thing I remembered.

* * * * *

(...there's a little...Hey! Check...it's fine now...your...? What's...?...What is it? Come on,...)

"What's your name, Richard?" The calm looking guy had...a strange necklace(?). No, not a necklace, a stethoscope. And, just over his shoulder were two worried looking people: Ann and Mike ('Mikey' to me, you prick!).

"He's smiling, now. I think we can talk to him. Allrighty then, what's your name?" Mr. Calm was asking.

"My name is Richard. Why are you standing over me?" This seemed like a reasonable thing to ask but was greeted by general amusement all around. I tried to turn my head and felt it try to explode. The pain brought me all the way back.

"Is the boy OK? I really tried not to hit him but I haven't been skating for very long," I explained.

"Everybody is fine, now. You missed the boy but, to do it, you jumped almost 4 feet beyond him! It was awesome until you landed on your skates, which went straight up in the air! You hit your head on the ice and were knocked out for about 30 seconds. You haven't been coherent until now, about 5 minutes or so" Ann told me.

"You need to stay awake for at least 6 hours," Dr(?). Calm said.

"I'll be fine. I walked here and..."

"...I'll walk him home," Ann said. While she and the doctor held their own little conversation, I saw 'Mikey' nod to me and mutter 'thanks' just before disappearing into the thinning crowd around us. When I turned back to Ann, she helped me out of my skates and out of the rink area. Aside from a sore spot on the back of my head, I felt fine, slowly walking through the open air mall and the streets back to my place.

When we got there, Ann insisted upon seeing me inside and then set my kitchen clock-radio's alarm for 1 AM.

"What are you doing? I'm going to be fine and you don't need to worry."

"Of course, you'll be fine. I'll be making sure of it!"

We sat down on the couch and...

"...Hello? Richard?" a female voice yelling at me from somewhere.

"Why are you...hey! Where are my clothes?"

"I was yelling," she finished for me, "because you started to go to sleep as we were getting ready to 'get closer' and you took off your own clothes! As you can see, most of mine are still on and I'll be glad to put the rest of them back on if you'd like." Her expression said that she doubted I wanted that!

"I...uh,...well,..," What could I say? No? Yes? You don't even know me and I'm falling in love with you? A smile from her and I gave up trying to explain.

"Richard, I want to be close to you. No, I want you to make love to me. But, you must stay awake or I'll have to call a doctor. You had a mild..."

"...Richard? Are you back?"

"Sure. Am I really fading out that fast?"

"Yeah, you are but that time was only a few seconds. Please, hold me." And, I did. There wasn't really any question about whether or not I wanted to; I just had no way to say how much.

She moved closer to me and we held each other side by side until she raised her face to me and we kissed: long, deep, passionately. I gently withdrew and gazed into her eyes, seeing that there was no hesitation, no reluctance. We helped each other out of our remaining clothing, and she raised her chin, closing her eyes. I kissed her cheek, her chin, her neck. As slowly as I could, I caressed her chest and her breasts with my lips, hearing her gasp as I touched her with increasing intimacy, rising passion.

Her hands began to glide along my chest and legs, lingering at my nipples, scratching my shoulders, clutching my sex.

Making lazy paths with my tongue on her belly, still not using my hands.

Stroking me slowly, firmly.

Licking soft, fragrant hair.

Biting her lip.

Parting, licking.

Pulling my hair, forcing my face lower, deeper.

Moaning, tasting.

Moving her other hand between her legs, she touched herself then held herself open as I repeated the movements of her fingers with my tongue.

Finally running a hand down her thigh, inside her knee, over her calf.

Openly moaning now, laying back on the couch, she spread her legs wider, raising her knees, using both her hands to move my head and face everywhere she desired.

My tongue plunging onto her, flicking, pulling her lips with mine. I felt her body begin to twitch, to jerk, to spasm uncontrollably, crushing my face into her.

Drinking her musky sweetness as she flexes, calms, flexes again, her cries reducing to moans, to murmurs.

Pulling my hair to lift my head, she looks down at me and I see the deep flush in her cheeks and the hunger in her eyes. Then, pulling me up to her face, she kisses my wet lips and, as she slides her tongue into my mouth, she guides my body into her, arching her back and groaning deeply. We stop all movement for a heartbeat and I raise my head to look down at her. Ann opened her eyes and sighed.

With a small smile, she closed her eyes again, turned her head slightly, and ran both her hands down my back to my hips and squeezed. I tried to be slow and gentle but neither of us could. I thrust hard into her, she moved one hand to my back, scratching, still clutching my hip with the other, clutching my sex with warmth, screaming into the pillow as another series of waves crash through her body. Joining her screams with my own, coming violently, deeply inside her.

Ann hugged me tightly and began to cry. I felt sure that this was alright for her and I gently rocked her, our bodies still intertwined.

As suddenly as it began, her crying stopped. She eased me from within her and sat up, spreading her legs again. I started to put my head between them but she stopped me, smiling. With both hands, she soothingly coaxed her body open and teased my wetness from her and into her hands. Slyly licking her lips, she reached for me and coated my still erect sex with it, making sure not to miss any spot. Covering it completely, she bent down and took me into her mouth, running her tongue from top to bottom, around and around until I was thrusting into her, straining, struggling, pushing down on her head, coming again.

Opening her mouth, she kissed me, climbed on top, and wrapped herself around me. Leaving our shared passion all over my face, she straddled me and rode up and down, her head back, her long hair tumbling behind her, pushing up with her hands on my chest, a low guttural sound emanating from beneath her hard nipples, then looking down between her legs as her orgasm and mine flood our bodies with sticky, wet pleasure.

She collapsed on me and I let her rest before carrying her to the bed, massaging her entire body, and re-entering her as she lay on her stomach.

* * * * *

I don't know when I fell asleep. I'm pretty sure I heard the alarm (that she had set for the time period I needed to be watched after my fall) but I never heard her leave. I awoke feeling fantastic and found nothing at all: no note, no phone message, no Ann. I went back to the rink every day for the rest of the time it was open but never saw her again.

On the last day of skating, I stood by the fence, watching a couple of lovers trying to skate together, obviously for the first time.

"She won't be back." Maybe 5 seconds passed before I clenched my fist and turned, swinging at 'Mikey's' head. He caught my fist just inches from his nose and slowly shook his head.

"Richard, you know it and I know it: she won't be back." He released my hand and I let it fall to my side. "I've been here for two weeks watching you wait for her, sometimes with my kids, sometimes, like today, just waiting for you alone."

I hated myself for it but I started to cry. Mike put his hand on my shoulder, the hand he'd tried to keep hers in, and I saw that he knew what I was feeling.

"Look, I'm going over to the Hard Rock for a couple beers. If you want to talk about it, fine. If you don't, that's fine, too. But, I don't think you'll be skating today, and I'm buying."

I let him lead me across the street, past shoppers and tourists, and past a tall woman with long, dark brown hair, mostly hidden behind a giant, spinning guitar. I never saw their shared nod, nor her bright smile which turned sad, nor her slowly walking away.

LaJan
LaJan
14 Followers
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