Locker Rooms and Pretty Girls

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I.

It was a cold, drizzly Saturday night and the sounds of whistles and slap shots echoed throughout the cavernous hockey rink. There was a group of boys still on the ice, but only one was left in the locker room. Nick was exhausted from his practice, and he sat and surveyed the now empty changing facility. His friend Jake was the last boy to leave, and Nick was alone, too tired to strip quickly and simply wanting a long nap. Sweat drenched his body and he felt his gear stick to his body. He was a goalie, and had his skates, leg pads, pants, and Underarmor t-shirt still on. The room was stiflingly hot, and Nick knew he would have to shower before he could go out and meet his friends. He had gotten a text from his friend during the practice, reading: “my friend Sara is into you dude, you really should make a move on her tonight.” Nick giggled slightly after reading this, but he really had no interest, he was simply too beat from playing.

He wasn’t a tall boy, maybe 5’7”, 5’10” in skates, but he had a solid frame and powerful legs beneath his equipment. His skin was a pale white, and his hair was dark—he looked classically Jewish, though he was often confused for Italian, even Greek. In one way, at least, he was Greek, though it wasn’t the sort of detail he usually revealed to people. Nick slowly rubbed his arms and pulled his shirt up a bit to rub his abs. He could feel the sweat sticking, and he wanted nothing more than to feel hot water running down his bare skin. His penis barely twitched at the thought—there were few things more sensual than a shower to him. However, the showers at the rink were big, open rooms with a half-dozen showerheads, and they lacked the intimacy of his home shower. Nevertheless, Nick always got a kick out of showering next to five of his teammates. They would horse and joke around—a bunch of naked boys with a ton of pent up sexual energy. Now though, Nick was in the locker room alone, and he could relax and take his time.

Tenderly he peeled off his pads and skates, until he was wearing just his underarmor t-shirt and a pair of tight fitting sweatpants. Both were covered in sweat, and he longed to relax. He slipped a pair of flip-flops on and walked around the locker room, wondering what he should do that night. He ran his fingers through his hair and stretched lightly, trying to coax his muscles back into operation. Nick had always enjoyed the locker room—although some thought it was smelly or dirty, to him it was a place that felt like a home, a place where he could just relax and be a boy.

He sauntered over to the urinals and pulled down the front of his sweatpants, exposing his soft penis. He grabbed it with two fingers in his right hand and held it outward, yawning approvingly as he peed. He was proud of his penis—even soft it was smooth and thick, with a large pink mushroomhead and long, rounded shape. As he finished up he pulled up his pants, letting the waistband snap back against his abs. As he turned around to go to his locker and strip for his shower, he noticed the door to the room open. Nick was standing smack in the middle of the rectangular locker room when, looking to his left, he saw someone he never thought he would see in such a place—a girl, a drop-dead sexy girl.

A bit shocked, he turned to face the girl, who was about fifteen feet away and looked a bit bewildered, and opened his mouth to talk: “Um, are you looking for someone?”

She was, in a word, sexy. She had on a pair of flip-flops, a tight but wavy white skirt, and a blue tank-top with a slightly obvious push-up bra on underneath. Her legs and skin were tan, and her hair was dark and rich. She was short, but not too short, and Nick could tell from once glance that she was stunning. He wondered what in the hell she was doing in such a dark and smelly place. She smiled demurely, her full cheeks blushing slightly pink but obscured by her tanned skin. “Oh, yeah, sorry…” She seemed to come out of a trance; Nick had a feeling she had been looking him over. “I was looking for my friend Jake, but I guess he already left. Who are you?”

Nick was a bit impressed with her audacity. Most girls wouldn’t have the moxie to walk right into a boys’ locker room, let alone to stick around and make conversation. He took advantage of the pause in the fledging conversation to adjust the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and pull up his t-shirt to wipe his sweaty face. “Yeah, I know Jake, he left a while ago, he seemed to be in a rush. I’m Nick. I haven’t seen you around the rink before, are you Jake’s girlfriend or something?”

Secretly Nick was hoping she wasn’t. It wasn’t that she was just smoking hot, it was that there was something a little sad and mysterious behind her dark, confident eyes. Additionally, it was Nick’s, and almost every hockey player’s fantasy, to do it in a locker room. Not that that was actually going to happen, he thought, as he waited for her to finish aimlessly looking around the room and respond to his question.
Nick retreated a little bit, toward his gear, so he could sit down on the bench and look right to face her as she spoke. She was still about ten or fifteen feet away from her, and he didn’t want to come on strong and freak her out. Plus, she seemed younger, and a bit hyperactive—being in such a testosterone-filled place and all. She giggled. “No, no, I mean, no, I’m not. Once, a long time ago, but yeah, no, I’m not. I just wanted to give him something he left at my house.” She smiled and motioned to her pocketbook. “Oh, I’m Jessica.” She blushed at forgetting the obvious, and took a step closer toward Nick.

He stood up from the bench and turned around, trying to keep himself busy with his gear so it wouldn’t be that obvious that he was hitting on her.