July 1, 1994
“Are you comfortable, Gwen?”
Her breath steamed the glass a little. “Yeah. Awkward, but okay.” Her red curls framed her pale face that was covered in too much make-up. Piercing dark green cat eyes stared through the glass of the hotel room window.
Looking up and to the east, the CN Tower stood tall and erect with wisps of clouds passing its tip in the light blue sky. Below was the full stadium and field of artificial turf with the white chalk diamond drawn upon it.
“I don’t understand this game. At least in hockey they can hit someone,” she commented and shifted on her chair and the device.
“Stop squirming,” came the muffled reply.
“Maybe if they put a defensive player between the bases that was to stop the runner, I could get behind that.” Gwen sighed and allowed her eyes to close for a second. “That’s nice right there.”
The team in all white with blue caps, the Blue Jays were running out to their positions on the field. The Expos, in all gray with blue caps, would be batting after the warm-up.
She grinned. “I know when Labatts named the team they were hoping that people would shorten the name to the Blues for their beer instead of the Jays…but what if we called them the BeeJays? How would they deal with that.”
A muffled chuckle tickled her thighs. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Why not? That felt fantastic.” She brushed a crumb off the left breast of her tight burgundy tank top. Glancing around behind her, she saw his naked body laying on the auto-dolly. The erection was very inviting, but she had her orders. His head was hidden under her naked ass which, thanks to a device he had invented, was suspended just far enough off the chair for his tongue to access her pussy. “How much did this room cost you?”
“Shut the fuck up, would ya?” came the muffled order.
A crack brought her attention back to the window. Her eyes focused to see an Expo player had hit one deep to the outfield…heading straight at her. Unfortunately, her eyes did not pick up the white ball until it hit the window with an audible bang. Were it not for the window, she would have had a broken nose. Gwen screamed and shifted back from the glass.
The device, unfortunately, was not long enough to allow for this. Gwen’s thin athletic body slid off the back of it, scratching her thighs on the hard plastic prongs. She landed squarely on the upper chest of the man beneath her. She was not heavy, but the sound of ribs and breath being expelled from him was loud.
“Graham, are you okay?” Gwen slid off him onto the green carpet beside him.
Gray’s hand checked his chest for damage. “I don’t think I broke anything. I think I am okay.” He sat up and massaged his sore chest. His dark hair was in a mullet and was packed down with sweat and Gwen’s juices. “Let’s close the curtains and take this to the bed.”
Gwen stood and pulled the curtains shut hoping that no one noticed her naked bottom from the stands. Being their were no lights on, it was unlikely. She then got on the bed and pulled her top off. Leaning back on the pillows.
Gray, still a bit dazed, continued checking for injury. He finally declared, “Nope, I’m good.” He stood slowly with a smile that almost glowed in the mostly dark room. The only light was sunlight shooting in through the peripheral of the curtains. He took one step, his left foot found the auto-dolly.
Gwen watched as Gray’s shadow slid about two feet towards the end of the bed and then, arms panicking in the air, he vanished on his back to the floor again.
“Damn,” Gray’s voice drifted up to her. “I think I broke something this time..”
Gwen sat up and grabbed the phone on the bedside table. “I’ll call the front desk for an ambulance.”
“Oh, and Gwen?”
She listened, phone in hand and fingers over the buttons. “Yes, my love?”
“I’m moving to Calgary on Wednesday. I got a really cool job.”
She slammed the phone down. “You’re breaking up with me? You fuckwad!” Without another word, she was up and dressed in her tank top and jean shorts in record time. She opened the door.
She stopped. “What?”
“That ambulance?” He was still flat on his back between the bed and the window.
Her answer was punctuated with the door clicking shut behind her.
“Guess a ride to the bus station is out of the question then?” Gray whimpered to the empty room.
Author’s note: I was at this ballgame. In fact, it was the last Major League Baseball game that I have or will ever attend. My brother and I, traditionally, would go to one a year. Neither of us were truly fans, but the 1994 strike lost my interest in the game completely. The SkyDome (since renamed) and SkyDome hotel (now part of a chain) are real as well. Due to a couple getting caught by a soccer mom with binoculars, there is a hotel policy that curtains remain closed unless you are watching the game…but I have never been in that hotel yet.