On Saturday, I found myself sitting in a local bar watching the college football game. I purposely went over to the other side of the bar where no one is sitting and I had a great view of the plasma screen TV. Sometimes, I stroll into this bar to watch the game because it is great to be among the energy of people pulling for their team. I chat with the bartender a little and order a rum/coke. First score of the game…the crowd erupts…and I finish my drink. I love to watch people just doing what they do. One guy is chatting up the bartender (good luck buddy!), another guy is trying hard to look at his girlfriend rather than the screen (wrong place, wrong time!), and several guys at the end grunting time honored chants of DEFENSE, DEFENSE. And, I love it.
Sports, primarily hockey and football, are my erotica. I notice that it is rare, in female erotica or Literotica, that the hero is a sports star. Perhaps it is too cliché to make the focus of female erotica a cocky football star. Perhaps, for women, it brings to mind silly cheerleaders in short skirts that don’t particularly represent female sexuality or the female experience at all. However, I have to give credit where it is due…Pam Britton writes a successful series of NASCAR inspired romance novels. Although neither NASCAR nor generic romance novels are quite my suit (I did offer at the end of last year to interview Pam Britton and she stated that she thought we were too racy for her), I think that the theme reaches out to the acceptance that some women love sports.
I mean sweaty, built, conditioned guys in tight pants fighting for the ultimate orgasmic prize to score. Single minded, passionate focus like that is a beautiful thing!
Where was I? Oh yes, sorry…sports. So, I am sitting there enjoying the game, the crowd, and my drink when Joe Cool strolls up and asked if the seat next to me is taken. I look down the bar where there are about 10 open seats and give him a break. Go ahead….sit down. Now, the number one rule of watching “THE GAME” is don’t talk to me, outside of a few comments about the parentage of the coach when he does not go for the first down on 4th and short. If I would have wanted conversation, then I would have hit the coffee bar or the local church social down the street. Generally, men understand this unwritten law very well. But this guy….nope, he wanted to chat. I smile politely as he gives me the usual pick up lines. Watching the game….score…..yes! High fives heard around the room. Can he buy me a drink? No thanks…Cheryl (the bartender) has me covered. Now really, I am usually very kind to guys in these situations because I think it takes a whole lots of courage to come over and give it a shot, but he would not leave and he would not let me watch the game. My favorite Scorpio says, “Never say maybe…people do not understand maybe!”
Finally, I turn to Joe Cool and politely tell him that all I am only interested in enjoying my drink while I watch the football game. His reply: “Come on, you know that women are only ever interested in sport when they are trying to impress a man!” Cheryl strolls over with my drink in time to hear this profession of womanly virtues and she stands back against the edge of the bar to watch the fireworks. I picked up my rum/coke and downed it in one drink….turning glass end up on the napkin on bar. Cheryl knows this is my custom when I have finished for the night and she runs my tab at the register closest to me. After I sign the check, I look at Joe Cool with my Barbie smile….laced with a little “come here” sex….and lean close to him. Wow….this guy could use a shower….always attractive.
I tell him that I am going to be honest with him. I point to a guy across the room playing pool with a group….looking real confident and sexy as he strides around the table…practiced in handling his cue (pun intended!). I inform Joe Cool that I am going to take that man home with me tonight….I have been watching him all night long. And, although I have not asked him, if I don’t leave with him, then he can not only buy me a drink, but take me home. A smile spreads over his face because he knows that he has hit the jackpot. A smile is on Cheryl’s face because she knows the guy shooting pool is going home with me!
I stroll over to the guy shooting pool using my best “get a man” walk, lean over the table where he is shooting (giving everyone a good boob shot), and smile at him. He smiles back because he knows the game. I walk slowly around the table and whisper something delicious in his ear about how I cant wait another minute for him and I want to leave with him now. He smiles smugly, puts his cue on the table, and waves to the guys with “Ladies First.” They chuckle as he leaves with me and I flip a wink to Joe Cool who does not have that smile anymore.
As we walk out wrapped around each other, my husband says, “I thought you wanted to watch the game.” I did….but it was a mercy killing. The away team never had a chance!
And they say women dont understand sports!~~Dee