Taking Your Shot Ch. 05

Chapter Five: For the Team

**Again, thank you so much for the love and feedback for this story so far. It has been a pleasure to get to know these characters. Over the next few chapters you are going to get a chance to explore the characters more. I promise to incorporate some erotic portions but there is so much to dive into with the characters at this point I feel I need to go in that direction.

I also imagined this story as multiple chapters but never pushing on the number of chapters/words for a novella but that is where we are about to go.

As always, please comment, send messages, etc. this will help to guide me with what you the readers are looking for.**

I wake after hearing a loud sound downstairs. Jumping quickly to my feet I make my way to the top of the stairs to see my mother standing at the doorway looking at a pile of luggage I assume was the sound of her dropping them to the floor.

"Mom!" I shout down to her.

"Sweetie!" She squeals in return. "Get down here so I can get a look at you."

I make my way down the stairs and embrace her in a long hug. I squeeze her harder than I have in a long time. My eyes start to tear up as I feel her energy, her happiness, emanating from her body.

"You are absolutely stunning," she tells me, breaking from our embrace. "I love your hair! Give me a quick spin."

I slowly twirl in front of her as she looks me over from head to toe. Her smile continues to beam from her gorgeously tanned skin.

"Get some more clothes on sweetheart and we can talk over breakfast," she says gesturing to me to go upstairs. "I am sure Nicholas loves the half naked body of yours but more clothing around the house will be best for your father."

"Where is he," I ask. "Wait, why are you home? You are not supposed to be back for another few days."

"I left him back on the island," she says. "I couldn't be away from you any longer. I appreciated the phone calls, but a girl needs her mother. So be prepared to be mothered unlike you have ever experienced!"

"I can't wait," I state before heading back up the stairs.

Once in my bedroom I remove the boy short underwear and the strappy tank top and discard them into the corner of the room. I scan my drawers before settling on a thong, sweatpants, and a hoodie.

My joy carries through my body as I basically skip down the stairs making my way to the kitchen. I see my mother already whipping up some batter for pancakes, my favorite breakfast food.

"Nathaniel always liked chocolate chips in their pancakes, does Natalie like them too?" she asks in a sincere way.

"Yes, Mom," I responded. "Some things have definitely changed this week but chocolate chip pancakes will always be my choice."

"Good," she states. "I have so much to hear about. So start spilling the tea!"

Over breakfast I go over the whole story since Nicholas found me bent over in front of him that afternoon. It is amazing to be so open with my mother after so many years keeping myself closed off to her, my father, and honestly everyone in my life. As I tell the story I glaze over the more sexual experiences I had while she was away, even though she was already aware of a couple of them.

"Alright Natalie," she says, looking at me with a serious look. "I absolutely love the story but we are two girls talking. I want the details."

I look at her slightly puzzled as to what she wants to hear.

"Tell me all about Nicholas," she says as she holds her hands up gauging the space between them.

"Mom!" I shout. "I am not going to tell you about Nicholas' penis."

"Eh, is that what you call it?" she asks. "I have always been a fan of "cock" when referring to a man's manhood."

I can only imagine how mortified I must look to her as I struggle to think of a response.

"Cock," she continues. "There is something about that word, makes it sound powerful. Not that the men in my life have held any real power."

I still struggle to respond but finally muster a few words in response. "Somewhere around here," I say, holding my hands up to her.

"That's a good-sized cock, especially for your first," she says. "My first was like half of that. Quite disappointing actually and he came so quickly I wouldn't say there was much pleasure in it."

"Mom!" I shout at her again. "Too much information."

"Fine, fine, fine," she responds, trying to read my response. "You have already shared a few details; I am sure there is more."

I feel my cheeks turn red in embarrassment as she moves her head in an investigative way back and forth.

"My daughter is a blow job girl!" she exclaims after a few moments. "You do take after me! I told your father that you would."

"Wait, what?" I ask in shock. "You and dad discussed whether I was going to give blow jobs?"

"Sweetie," she starts saying. "Your dad has never complained."

"Eww, gross," I say before she cuts me off.

"Anyways, let's not get hung up on my past let's talk about your future," she states. "Are you going to lose your virginity to the handsome Nicholas Wheeler?"

I watch as she dramatically acts out in some form a lustful book cover looking up at a man.

"That hasn't come up Mom," I responded. "In fact, we haven't discussed much sexually, it just seems to happen."

"Oh, to be young and have the hormones running through my body again," she says. "Nowadays it is like scheduling a trip to the dentist to get some action."

"Mom, will you please stop," I tell her feeling uneasy about her and my father doing anything sexual together.

"Well Sweetie," she starts. "The way you two are going to have to have sex you need to start doing some preparation. Otherwise, it will be an extremely painful experience. But don't worry, we can go shopping for everything you will need."

I cannot believe the conversation I am having with my own mother. She continues on as I listen to her explain the different toys and lubrication that I will need to prepare for Nicholas. Throughout the conversation she continues to bring up Nicholas' cock size, which I have already started to regret telling her.

"How about you tell me about your vacation," I ask, breaking her from the roll she was on.

She stops and looks at me for a second before placing the first set of pancakes on a plate. I get an uneasy feeling from the way she looks at me.

"Was it at least nice?" I ask. "You were at a tropical island after all."

"Oh, it was nice," she says. "There were a lot of nice things about the island. The beaches and water were gorgeous during the day but at night is when it got really interesting."

"I figured you and Dad being a little old for the club, bar life," I add.

"Sweetheart, what do you know about your Dad and mine's relationship?" she asks, her expression turning serious. "What do you actually know?"

"Um that you are my parents, you have been married for like 20 years," I say.

"All true points," she says with a momentary pause. "Your father and I, well, we are swingers."

I gasp hearing her tell me that my parents are swingers. I can feel my eyes grow wide, as if they were trying to escape my head from the shocking news.

"Sweetie, you are exploring your sexual nature..." she starts saying.

Unable to hear anymore I quietly pick up my plate and walk out of the kitchen. The walk to my bedroom felt like it took forever. My mind is lost in the honesty of the conversation I just had with my mother. Why did she feel the need to tell me that I wonder.

"Disgusting," I mutter to myself as I close the door to my room.

I do have to admit that it was great to have a home cooked meal, even if it was just pancakes. The days while she had been gone were filled with pizza delivery and processed snacks left in the pantry. Having a truly warm meal felt amazing in my stomach.

The remainder of the morning I spend upstairs texting Elaina and Nicholas while getting ready. I am not in any hurry as tonight is the first night working at the hockey rink as a photographer. I clean my camera and all of the lenses before packing them away. Elaina cannot believe that conversation I had with my mother. For Nicholas the conversation was minimal, as he was preparing for the game himself.

"I am excited to see you play tonight," I text him.

"It will be a tough game, I cannot believe we have Rochester in the first round," he replies.

"Oh. Are they good?" I ask.

"They won regionals last year," he writes.

I sit there laying on my bed trying to think of a clever thing to pump him up for the game. I am drawing absolutely nothing for inspiration. So instead I decided to write something funny.

"Make sure you get all of the touchdowns you can tonight," I write followed by a smiling emoji.

"I am definitely going to need to get a hat trick if we want to be close on the score," is his response.

I sit there for a second wondering what the hell a hat trick is. I quickly searched Google to learn that a hat trick in hockey is a player scoring three goals in one game.

"Savannah didn't give me a hat, so I can't throw one at you when you do," I tell him.

I watch as the dots appear on my screen indicating he is writing a response. Then suddenly they disappear.

I find myself waiting for a couple of minutes but still no response or any sign that he is responding. Where did he go? I wonder to myself before being interrupted by my mother at my door.

"Do you need a ride to the ice arena Sweetie?" she asks from behind the closed door.

"I am planning on driving myself," I tell her.

"Okay, I am going to go shopping," she adds. "If you need anything just let me know."

"Sure thing," I say before turning my attention back to my phone.

I take my time in the shower before doing my makeup and getting dressed. The first pair of panties I put on show clearly through the legging Savannah had given to me. Not liking the visible line I elect to go with a red lace thong. In my head it felt important to match the black and red colors of the team.

Looking down at my phone I see the time is 3:30 PM. I quickly check my messages and see no new messages from Nicholas.

I pull the red polo shirt over my head. The fabric falls down my torso covering my black lace bra and body. I give myself a quick spin so that I can see myself in the mirror. A quick touch up of makeup and I am ready for my first night as a photographer.

I carry my camera equipment down the stairs and set them by the door. Looking at the clock again I see that it is only 3:35. I feel anxious for my first night as a photographer but also wanting a response from Nicholas.

I let out a sigh before speaking to myself, "If I leave now, then I will be there for 4:00 even though I don't need to be there until 5."

I jump into my car and spend the next hour driving around to pass the time by. A quick stop at Starbucks, fill up my gas, and multiple trips around the block of the ice arena eventually gets me to 4:30. Pulling into the parking lot, the lot is nearly filled.

Walking into the arena there was a lot more going on then I would have expected since the game doesn't start until 7:00. At the far end of the lobby is Savannah who eagerly waves me to go see her.

"Look at you, well aren't you just the cutest little thing in here," she says, spinning me around. "It looks like everything fits just the way it should."

"It is already pretty busy here," I state.

"Regional qualifier is today. There are many games being played, not just the one you are here for," she tells me.

"Oh, I had no idea," I say. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"We've got this," she states. "Feel free to drop your things in my office. Everything will be fine there."

I drop my equipment in her office before making my way through the arena. There is a game already going on the ice. Looks like younger teenagers, maybe 14 to 15-year-olds out playing. I quickly search the bleachers to see if I can see Nicholas sitting amongst the crowd.

I feel someone poke me in the shoulder as they ask, "Are you Natalie?".

I turn to see a face I kind of recognize as someone from Nicholas' team. "Yes, I am," I tell him.

"Perfect," he replies. "Coach and Savannah thought that it would be best if you stuck with the team for your first night."

I see that he is wearing a similar red polo to mine. His shirt falls awkwardly along his body compared to mine. I think about how I always hated the way boys and men's clothing fit, so loose and ugly. I feel cute in my leggings and form fitting polo.

I follow him to the back of the arena towards the locker rooms. He quickly makes his way to a doorway and disappears behind it. I feel apprehensive about entering knowing that it is a locker room. I stand there for a few more seconds before the door opens and he reappears.

"Are you coming in?" he asks.

"Uh," is all I am able to say.

"Everyone is clothed or at least mostly clothed," he tells me as if that was reassuring in any way.

He subtly gestures for me to follow. I take a step inside and am immediately shocked by what I see. Everyone was mostly clothed like I had been told and the majority were sitting around a PlayStation 5 playing Call of Duty. There was no rough housing or any antics at all. Movies definitely lied to me as to what sports teams were like.

A quick look around the room doesn't produce a visual of Nicholas. With no Nicholas I turn my attention back to one of the players currently playing the Crown Raceway map of Modern Warfare II. I watch as they are killed far more times than they are able to kill an opponent.

At the end of the match the team starts razzing and making fun of the player. Under my breath I call his play "weak".

"Hey James!" the player who brought me to the locker yells out. "Natalie here just called your COD game weak."

I feel the attention of the entire team turn towards me. Some continue to make fun of James and others start calling for me to showcase my skills. Little do they realize that I was a severely bullied teenage male who only had video games to turn during my informative years.

"Let's see it Natalie," one says.

"I bet she doesn't beat a.5 kill to death ratio," another calls out.

James stands up from the seat and hands me the remote before smiling and saying, "Best of luck."

I barely sit down in the seat before the next map loads. I quickly see that it is a Team Deathmatch, and the map would be Embassy. During the countdown I check my loadout, a basic assault rifle loadout, which would be suitable for the style map.

I immediately focus solely on my character on the map and proceed to get three straight kills in the early moments of the match. It isn't long before I call for my first killstreak of a UAV. With overhead surveillance I am able to secure two more kills. The players around me become animated and excited by my gameplay.

The match continues on as both teams lock into a heated battle to 75 points. In the end, my team lost by 2 points. However, I scored more kills than any other player on either team with only five deaths.

At the end, the group around me cheered as they closed in around me. I heard many comments of praise and a few comments about my looks and being able to play. I felt many slaps, nudges, and other physical contact as they continued their excitement.

I had never been part of a team and was initially concerned about the physical nature of their excitement. I looked at their faces and realized that no one was upset. This helped me to calm down a little bit among all of the commotion.

The jubilation was broken up by a comment from a player.

"I've got a joystick you can play back at my house," is all I hear from the back of the group.

This comment is responded to by a mixed response from the team. Some appear appalled by the statement while others laugh. I do feel all of their eyes on me to see how I am going to react to the comment. After a second or two I finally came up with a response.

"I don't play with 8-bit, sorry." I say.

This response is met with even more laughter and excited behavior. A couple of players are jumping around and on me to display their feelings. The team carries on so long that we miss the start of the next match. None of the players move to pick up the remote and play.

I pick up the remote and jump into the gameplay. Another match goes by. I struggle some in this match because the players keep bumping into me as they watch me play. I am slowly becoming comfortable with the amount of contact, even if it messed me up a few times. This time my team wins by a large margin. I lead with the most kills for the second match in a row.

"Shit! She is a real life 'Stiletto'," one of the players calls out.

In my mind I think of this as a compliment. 'Stiletto' has always been my favorite character to play since the game's release.

A small chant of "Stiletto, Stiletto, Stiletto" breaks out in the training room. The team circles around me as they do this. I feel my cheeks turn red. I know that Nathaniel was really the Call of Duty player, as I haven't even thought of playing a game since becoming Natalie. Through all of the joy and excitement I feel a little sadness thinking that as Nathaniel I would never have been accepted like this.

The chant is interrupted by a loud billowing voice. "What is going on in here!"

The team immediately becomes quiet. Standing in the doorway is a large, rugged man sporting the team colors.

"Sorry coach," one player says. "Savannah wanted us to keep Natalie company for her first night."

"Then why are you all so loud," Coach asks, glaring at everyone except me.

"We were just playing Call of Duty and well, Natalie is a bad bitch at the game," another adds.

"Jeremy, language. There is a female present," Coach fires off at him.

A silence falls amongst the room before Coach speaks again. "Start getting ready. Natalie, please come with me."

I look back at the team and give them all a smile before following Coach back out into the hallway.

"I am sorry about them being so rambunctious," he states. "They don't get too many female visitors, especially young girls like you. It is usually a parent or my wife."

"Everything was great with them," I stated. "They were all nice and it was fun to be part of a team for once."

"It seems like they have accepted you as part of the team, that is for sure," he adds. "Savannah wasn't sure how they would react to you becoming part of what we are doing this summer. Just let me know if one of them gets out of line with you."

"Will do Coach," I say. "Will do."

"You don't need to call me Coach, call me Roger," he says, holding out his hand as a greeting.

I lightly shake his hand before saying, "Okay, Roger."

I feel him squeeze my hand slightly before releasing. I look at his face and catch a small glint in his eye. I wonder if he was subtly being flirty with me.

From down the hall I hear Savannah call out my name and gesture me to her again. I walk to where she is as Roger returns to the locker room.

"Go grab your camera," Savannah tells me. "I am going to take you on to the ice so that you can set up and practice for warm ups and the puck drop."

"Won't I be on the bench with the team?" I ask her.

"No, you will be on the opposite side with the penalty boxes and the scorekeeper." she informs me.

"Oh," I say feeling slightly disappointed I wont be with Nicholas and the team.

The high I just had been feeling starts to feel slightly deflated as I make my way to grab my camera. I follow Savannah to the Scorekeepers area and start unpacking my camera. While waiting for the next game I practice taking photos and checking my settings for the lighting.

It feels like a long period of time before the visiting Rochester team makes their way to the ice. I watch and shoot photos of the players as they start their warm up. A few minutes later the familiar red and black uniforms appear on the ice.