Winnipeg Jets One-Shots

“Honestly babe, how many interviews have you done in the past few weeks? It’s like a conspiracy!”

“A what?” Josh Morrissey, my boyfriend, is laughing. Which is normally adorable, but we’re supposed to be fighting.

“I’m just saying, every night you guys play, at least one interview is with you. And I just KNOW that’s why all those puck bunnies are always up in your -”

“Stop, stop. I don’t know why they keep asking for me to do the talking head bits, but I’m too far down the totem pole to decline. You know they don’t want to talk to Byfuglien, and the big guys like Wheels and Lits can beg off to focus on important stuff. I’m not...I’m not important enough to say no to the press yet, okay?”

I don’t like that explanation at all, for a couple reasons. “That’s bullshit Josh. And you ARE important. You’re important to me, and I don’t want those bitches touching any of the important bits.” He’s laughing again, that bastard.

“Come on, sweets. You know I’m yours and yours alone. We’re supposed to meet Trouba and Scheifs for dinner. Do you still want to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll go. Give me a minute to finish getting ready.” I’m not finished with this discussion, but he’s right about being young. He’s only 21, I’m just 20; maybe the WAGS at dinner can give me some perspective on this. I just don’t like seeing these girls swarming around him, touching his arm and batting their eyelashes. I’m not usually so jealous, but I fell in love with him before he was a Jets rising star. I have dibs, dammit.

Dinner is pleasant - we chat with the other couples, I enjoy spending time with Molly and Stephanie and they tell me the gaggles of girls come and go as the players’ stars wax and wane. They promise to keep an eye out, in case anything suspicious happens or their guys mention anything - but assure me it’s normal to be paranoid, just don’t let it get too crazy. The boys want to go out for drinks after dinner. We go to a club, which the girls dismiss as ‘typically Winnipeg’ but for a Labrador girl like me its all still very glitzy and exciting.

We grab a table near the back and Josh stays with us while the other two grab a round of drinks. We dance, we chat, its a pleasant evening. Until later when Josh goes to get drinks and is, as I feared, swarmed by a few girls in short, impossibly tight dresses. They teeter on their stilettos and laugh, pawing at his arms with their painted nails. He smiles at them, but from here I can’t tell if its genuine. My blood is boiling, and I’m sure steam is coming out of my ears. I catch Molly’s eye, and she evaluates the situation.

“I wouldn’t worry hon, see how stiffly he’s standing? He’s not enjoying himself at all. He’ll be back as soon as is polite. You know Josh is always so polite,” and she smiles at me. I want to believe her, but he’s still standing at the bar, entertaining the gaggle.

Finally he comes back and I see the group of them watching him walk away. They’re talking amongst themselves and looking over our table, probably trying to see if he has a girlfriend.

He does. It’s me! I try not to be a bitch but I’ve been drinking, so he sits down and I ask “And who are they?”

“Bunch of cacklin’ hens,” Josh answers. Trouba laughs and Stephanie nods her head sagely before giggling too.

I don’t say anything else, though I want to. The conversation continues and I don’t contribute much - just looking down at my cocktail, mostly. Josh elbows me. “Hey, wanna dance?”

“No, thanks, I wouldn’t want to make you look stupid.” He gives me that quizzical look he gets when something makes no sense to him, and stands up.

“Come dance with me. Please?” He’s smiling, still the adorable Alberta boy I fell for. Molly nudges me out of the booth so I get up. Josh grabs my hand and drags me into the writhing mass of humanity that is the dance floor. Like a true defenseman, he plows through the crowd - no weaving here. He stops and pulls me toward him.

Over the music, I hear a female voice start saying, “Oh my god are you Josh Morri-” but I don’t get catch the end because suddenly he’s kissing me, hard. I swoon a little in his arms and he deepens the kiss even more, our tongues tangling. He’s biting my bottom lip, and his hands seem to be everywhere at once - my lower back, my waist, my hips, cupping my ass.

The song ends, and Josh pulls away, brushing a bit of hair out of my face.

“What was that for?” I ask, slightly breathless.

“For you, babe,” he says, and when the music begins again we dance like horny teens at prom. His leg is between mine, our hips fitting together and grinding against each other. I’m wearing a dress, flattering but with a loose skirt, and since its still warm (or warm for me, at least) just underwear underneath, no tights or leggings. We dance, and kiss, and dance, and soon I’m worrying about whether his dress pants let him feel the heat and moisture I’m collecting down there as his thigh presses against me.

A few girls are making their way towards us in the crowd and I think I recognize them from the bar earlier - or I recognize the bright spandex dresses and dyed hair. Josh can’t see them because he’s facing me. Ignoring my presence completely, one of them taps him on the shoulder and shouts “Hi!” when he turns his head.

Josh doesn’t say a word to her. I’ve never seen him be rude to a woman before, this is all new. He takes my hand and leads me off through the crowd in a different direction. We come to a part where the dancing mass extends all the way up to a wall for the length of the room. He doesn’t stop until we’re at the wall, and he positions me against it. I don’t know where this is all going, but some part of me is very, very excited.

We start grinding again, dancing, and kissing. Then he’s biting my neck, harder than usual. His hand is on my leg, massaging my thigh. His hand starts to slide upward, under my skirt. He hooks two fingers in the waistband of my underwear and with his other hand drops a coin to the ground. Oh no, I think. Oh yes, say his eyes as he drops down to retrieve the coin, simultaneously tearing my panties down to my feet. No way I’m putting those back on after they touched this floor, so I step out of them. Thankfully they’re dark colored so no one sees them conspicuously on the floor next to us. Before I can scold him he’s pressed against me again, his hands in my hair, capturing my mouth in a passionate, biting kiss. My knees are weak - not from all the dancing, but from his intensity.

His hand returns to my thigh, is quickly under my skirt again, and he breaks off the kiss to see my face as he strokes once, twice, along my folds. His eyes roll back and he leans in, saying in my ear, “How are you so wet, babe? This is incredible.” My only response, since I doubt I’d be heard over the noise anyway, is to bite the closest thing I can reach - his neck. That must have been the go-ahead signal, since he kisses me again, his tongue darting inside my lips as his fingers return to their work.

I raise one leg slightly, wrapping it around his; he rewards me by slipping a finger inside me. I bite my bottom lip, instinctively stifling a moan. He leans in to my ear again, “Be as loud as you want babe. Do you think anyone can hear anything in here? No chance.” I giggle, grinding myself against his hand while he talks, relishing the feel of his stubbly beard against my face. He wiggles his fingers and I moan aloud. No one turns to look at us, and I am really perversely enjoying this public sex thing. I don’t know whose idea it was, but I am all for it right now.

Josh’s palm rubs against my clit, putting just enough pressure on it while his two fingers slide in and out; he curls them toward him, pulling me away from the wall and pressuring the G-spot. I’m panting and moaning now - even if you couldn’t hear me, I must look a sight. Josh kisses me again and I’m moaning into his mouth; that makes him kiss me harder and now his thumb is circling my clit while his fingers work below. I can feel his erection against my leg and I reach down to stroke it but he moves my hand away. He keeps going until I scream, still captured by his mouth, and my walls shudder around his fingers.

While I catch my breath, he’s still leaning against me, sucking each finger clean. Also new. And incredibly hot. When he sees I’m recovered, mostly, he leans in and say “Let’s go.” Before I can ask where, or if he’s told our friends we’re leaving, he’s taken me by the hand again, leading me through the crowd. We grab our coats from the booth where Molly and Jacob are too preoccupied making out to notice and Stephanie and Mark must be out dancing. Josh leads me past the same gaggle of neon girls, and I hope my hair isn’t too mussed or my face too flushed. As we pass them he turns his head and maintains eye contact with me the whole time. I get the feeling he’s trying to prove a point, here.

We get to the parking garage and instead of opening my door like he usually does, he opens the back door. Oh no. I look at him, and although his eyes are crinkled like when he smiles, he’s keeping his face still. I look at the back seat and then back to him.

“This could be a lot of fun. We can go home, but I think you’ll enjoy this. You certainly seemed to like what we were doing in there.” I give him a look, but one of the cocktails catches up with me and I burp. All semblance of seriousness is lost, and I hop in the car.

“Alright Morrissey. Show me some fun.” I say as he climbs in after me, shutting the door. The car beeps as he locks it, and I’m suddenly grateful for the tinted windows. I lay back on the seat and he straddles me, sliding down his suddenly unfastened pants. I reach down and grab his cock, which has lost some of its previous fervor after the walk in the cold garage, but with just a few strokes in my fist it’s hard as a rock. Josh’s eyes are closed as I roll my hand back and forth, but soon he stops me. He lifts one of my legs up to his shoulder, so it won’t be pinched against the seat back.

He rubs his hand against my slit, then uses that moisture to lubricate the head of his dick. As he teases my entrance, I slide forward on the seat. Just the tip pops inside and I sigh happily. “What was that?” he asks, playful. He pulls himself back out, and I make a pouting face. He puts the tip back in - just up to where the mushroom head ends. And pulls it back out, making me squirm as the head stretches me just teasingly enough. “You want it all?” he asks, smirking.

“Yes,” I say breathily. But still he teases me - just the tip, over and over. It feels good, incredibly good, but I’m aching for him to fuck me deeply. I try to pull him forward with my hands - no good, he’s too strong. I try hooking my leg around him and pulling myself into him - no good, he holds my hips down and away. My moans sound more like pleas and whines now, but Josh is still just smiling down at me, thoroughly enjoying his game.

“Do you believe me that those girls mean nothing? You’re the only one for me.”

I smile up at him. “I thought you were up to something tonight.”

“Just wanted to show you how much I care.” Josh leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I promised you some fun, are you ready?”

“Very,” I say. Josh pulls my other leg up and places both my ankles on his right shoulder. The tip of his cock presses at my lips, he meets my eyes with his. He winks and thrusts in - working himself all the way in. I squirm under him, moaning his name as he starts rocking his hips, the small movements in and out tantalizing me. Josh inclines his head down, taking a nipple in his mouth and nibbling, still easing himself in and out. I run my hands down my sides, shivering with pleasure. My hands slide up his arms, caressing the muscles holding him over me.

His thrusts get faster and deeper, his thumb finds my clit and rubs tight circles. My breathing is fast and my moans get louder. I can feel the tension building, and when Josh moans my name, I spasm around him, gasping. He pumps a few more times, shuddering. After a few seconds, he opens his eyes and says, “Late night Tim’s run?”

I laugh, and nod, glad to have my Josh here with me, all mine.

Notes