(reproduced with permission)

Acting 101

I am an actor. Ok, I’m really not. It’s more of a hobby – I mean, it’s not like I get paid for it or anything. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane after a day of work at my soul sucking mindless office job, though. There was a time where I really wanted to be an actor – professionally. When I was in university, I took a lot of acting classes. This is a story about one of the best times I ever had in one of them. It’s also the story about how I met my fiancée.

A little background first. When I graduated high school, my parents were very insistent that I attended university. I could stay at home (kind of lame, but the rent was cheap) and they would help with books and tuition, if I needed it. Theatre and acting were my first love, but instead of leaving to enrol in a serious acting school, I stayed close to home and attended the local, if somewhat technical, university in my home city. The theatre program was a fun, close knit group. However, only two alumni had gone on to actual acting careers, and even one of them ended up studying somewhere else. I know this seems like superfluous information, but I feel compelled to make the point that our theatre school was just not that good. Hence, the following situation…

It was my first year and I was still getting to know much of my acting class. There were a few guys that I had really hit it off with, but a lot of the students were just taking it as an easy elective, so I had less in common with them. Unfortunately, this included about 90% of the girls in my class. And the class was, about, 90% girls. Yes, there was a lot of good looking girls in theatre. Apparently it was ‘cool’ for hot girls to take one last shot at being Jennifer Aniston before getting a degree in education or finance (Side note: What do you become with a finance degree? A lone shark? Someone who works in those Fast Cash places?). And because most of these girls had an actual career ahead of them, they were unsuitably impressed by my slick improv skills.

Our “professor,” Dr Broome, was assigning us a group project, to research and present a style of theatre, such as Melodrama, Tragedy, Theatre of the Absurd, Farce, etc. “I will choosing your topics at random, as well as your groups. You must all learn to work together, because in theatre, you can never pick your castmates.”

“What if we become directors?” my friend Bobby asked.

If Dr Broome heard him, she ignored it. “The first group is Abigail, Ellie, Lyric and Dan. Oh, Lyric, what a pretty name.”

I winced. Stuck in a group with three ‘electors?’ Sure, they were hot, but what did they know about theatre? This was going to be painful. I watched as Broome handed an envelope with our theme in it to Abby – who sat at the front, of course. I prayed it was something good.

“Dude,” Bobby leaned over to me. “You should totally hit one of those three. Or all of them.”

“I’m not going to have time with all the work I’m going to have to do,” I muttered.

As Dr Broome created some more research groups, I studied my new partners. Bobby was right, they were all pretty hot.

Abby was a bit of an enigma. She looked, and acted, like a real bookworm. She had long copper hair, always tied back except for her even, long bangs. Thick framed glasses over light green eyes. She never showed much skin or wore anything too form fitting, but looked to have a slight figure. I don’t know if she had ever said anything in class. That was the enigma. How could such a shy girl make it in a theatre class?

Ellie was a little more outgoing, but still seemed too quiet for a theatre class. She was, at least, friendly, and often greeted my friends and I with a ‘hi’ and a cute, dimpled smile . She was of about average height and build, with light, flawless skin framed by dark brown hair that fell just past her shoulders and sweeping bangs.

Finally, there was Dr Broome’s favourite, Lyric. She at least seemed to have some actual interest in theatre, although that’s not what made her Broome’s favourite. It was her name. And Broome always found it fascinating. Lyric was small, probably not much over 5 feet. She had light blonde hair that she almost always had tied back. And to complete her short stature were some youthful good looks. She was that type of cute where she was probably going to be carded for the next decade, at least.

Broome finally dismissed class and the groups gathered to make plans. The four of us made awkward introductions, because we knew each other but didn’t actually know each other, and Abby pulled out the envelope. She showed us the card from inside. Slapstick Comedy.“Umm, I don’t really know…” Abby murmured.

“Does that mean stuff like the Three Stooges?” Ellie asked. “Is that really theatre?”

“Ugh, I hate them,” Abby grumbled.

“Yes and no,” I said to Ellie. “In theatre, slapstick is more easily defined as physical comedy. So it’s not quite like the Stooges. There can be fake fighting, slapping, prat falls and such, as well as pulling faces for the audience.”

“Well thank you, professor,” Lyric laughed. “Do you guys want to get started today, maybe? Hit the ground running, so to speak.” That sounded way more promising than I thought it would. We quickly made plans to meet up later that afternoon.

When I saw them a few hours later, Lyric was practically bursting. She whipped out her laptop, excitedly chatting. “I was doing some research, guys, and I found a hilarious scene that’s all about slapstick and physical comedy. I was laughing so hard, I was almost kicked out of the library. This guy named Monty Python did it in England. It’s all about the history of comedy.” I bit back the urge to correct her on Monty Python’s name.

Ellie smiled as she watched. “That is kind of funny. We don’t have to do all of that, right?”

“Not necessarily, but it could be fun,” Lyric said with a giggle. She was really starting to grow on me.

“I don’t know,” Abby muttered, looking a little nervous as the pies were brought out in the skit.

“Let’s just do the research for now,” Lyric said, “we can make scene decisions later. If you are all free, we can meet at my place on the weekend to work. My parents are out of town, so we’ll have plenty of room.” We finished our meeting with more plans to meet at Lyric’s place. And I had to admit, this project was looking better and better. “See you guys on Saturday,” Lyric called as we went our separate ways. “Just remember to bring some comfy acting clothes to change into. Cause we’re going to get physical!” Everyone laughed.

I arrived at Lyric’s house on Saturday, duffel bag in hand. She showed me into a bathroom to change into sweatpants and a shirt. I was a little curious to see what she had in store for us. Lyric was obviously in great shape; I had no doubt she could run a physical rehearsal that would kick all of our asses.

The girls were all waiting for me at Lyric’s house. She was wearing a blue tank top and dark yoga pants. Her hair was set in two matching short braids at each side. Ellie wore a light pink sweatshirt over a dark purple shirt, with dark grey sweatpants like myself. Her hair was simply tucked back from her face with simple barrettes, and a pair of sunglasses sat on her head. Abby wore a long sleeved white shirt over black yoga pants. The shirt said I Love To Readon the front. “It’s from the school I work at,” she explained with a shy smile.

I had the most the acting experience in the group, especially physical comedy, so I started to show the girls how to take stage prat falls and perform stage combat. There’s actually quite a skill to it. I was no expert, but I was clearly the only one with any background at all. Lyric had provided a bunch of ‘props’ from her research. They consisted of two-by-fours to accidentally hit each other with and wash cloths that would double as banana peels.

After some rehearsing, Lyric called a break. We sat around her kitchen with glasses of water, as she filled us in on some of the research she had done. “There is one thing I think we need to have in our presentation. It’s integral to slapstick.”

“What is it?”

Lyric smirked. “I’m glad you asked. Follow me.”

Lyric led us into the garage, which was one of those ‘suburban garages,’ where they never seem to actually park the vehicles in it. Thus, it was pretty clean. Most of the garage was empty, except for two long tables on either side. Lined up on both tables were rows of big, fluffy white pies.

“Wow,” I stammered. Abby gasped and covered her mouth. Ellie started giggling.

“I think we need some pies in the face,” Lyric said with a poorly suppressed smile. As the three of us stood stunned, she continued. “So I made all of these for us to practice with. We have to get used to pieing people and getting pied. They’re just a simple graham cracker crust with sensitive shaving foam.”

“So we just throw these at each other?” Abby asked, not looking too thrilled about it all.

“Yes and no.” Lyric grabbed a piece of paper from a table. “I found some pie in the face techniques and rules of piefights online. For instance, Rule 1. ‘A piefight is not funny if no one is getting pied. That is, you should never block someone from pieing you.’ Here’s another good one. ‘Every good foodfight has at least one person who does not get messy…’”

“I call dibs on that,” Abby said.

“… until the end,” Lyric continued, causing Abby’s face to drop, “when they get covered by everyone else.”

“Nevermind.” Abby looked at the pies nervously. “I’ve never gotten a pie in the face before.”

“Neither have I,” Lyric confessed, “although it always did look like fun.”

“Same here,” Ellie said. “I’m more interested by the pieing, though.”

The girls all looked at me. “I’ve been pied once. I lost a bet to a friend in High School.”

“What did it feel like?”

“It was fun,” I said. “Even though I got the pie in the face, it was still pretty funny.”

“Well, since Dan is the only one to have ever gotten a pie in the face before, maybe he should take the first one. Show us how it’s done.” Lyric picked up a pie in her free hand.

“I didn’t say that,” I said. I looked to the other girls for some support. Ellie was practically shaking with the giggles and Abby was just watching in silence. Lyric held the pie in the palm of her hand, a big smirk on her pretty face. “Wait a minute, here. I’m the only guy here. I think it’s a little unfair if you pie me first.”

“You’re essentially just giving me another reason to pie you,” Lyric said with a giggle. She looked at her paper. “Now, according to this, the first and most common technique is the Forward Deposit. I simply push it into your face.”

“I would like to reiterate that this is completely unfair.”

“Protest noted,” Lyric said. And then she softly pushed the pie into my face.

There was a lot of shaving foam in that pie. It fell onto my shoulders, covering one ear and muffling the laughter from the girls. I could feel Lyric pull off the tin and I could feel the crust stuck to the cream. I let the girls laugh it up, before slowly reaching up and wiping crust and cream away from my mouth, so I could breathe. I took two large handfuls off of my face, around the eyes and cheeks. I flicked it onto the ground.

“That… was… awesome,” Ellie gasped.

“Awe, poor Dan,” Abby smiled.

“You girls are so going to get it,” I threatened. They laughed, not buying the fake anger at all. I turned towards the table of pies, not realizing that Lyric was already there and had already picked up a second pie.

“Another basic delivery is the Forward Deposit with a Twist.” Before I could do anything, Lyric pushed this pie into my face, giving the tin a slight twist before dropping it. I felt the crust breaking apart, but mostly sticking again. Ellie and Abby laughed even louder. I wiped large swaths of cream and crust off my face again. A lot of it still stuck on my shirt and shoulders, and fell onto my shirt. I couldn’t believe how covered I was after just two pies. They were big.

“I want to try, I want to try!” Ellie proclaimed, stepping forward with a pie. She steadied the sunglasses on her head with one hand.

“I think you should get her,” I motioned to Lyric.

“Nah, this is way more funny.” Ellie pushed the pie into my face, with a little more force than Lyric had. Cream squirted out behind me. The crust exploded. I didn’t mind getting pies in the face, in fact, it was kind of fun. But I wanted to see some of these beautiful girls take a few to the face as well. Again, I wiped huge swathes of cream and crust away from my eyes and mouth.

Abby was now standing in front of me with a pie in her hands. She had taken off her glasses. “I feel a little bad that you’re getting all these pies. I just ask that you remember this when deciding what to do with this pie.” She gingerly placed it in my hand.

Lyric and Ellie protested, both of them laughing nervously. I grinned. “So, now I have some power…”

“Just remember who didn’t pie you,” Abby said.

“That’s right. You’re safe.” She breathed a big sigh of relief. I stepped towards Lyric and Ellie. “Ellie.” The brunette scrunched up her face, worried. “You’re safe, too.” Without another word I turned and pushed the pie into Lyric’s face. She squealed and waved her arms. I flicked off the tin. Foam squeezed out from behind the crust, creating a white halo around it. She wiped foam and crust away from her mouth, sending crumbs over her blue shirt. Lyric leaned forward slightly, reaching up again, wiping foam and crust away from her eyes, but leaving a piece of crust on her forehead. She looked up at the three of us laughing at her and gasped.

“Well, that was… different,” Lyric gasped. “Not quite what I expected.”

“I owe you an apology, Lyric,” Ellie said, picking up another pie. “I wasn’t sure about this when you first took us in here, but I was wrong. This is great fun!” And with that, Ellie pushed her pie into Lyric’s face.

Lyric squealed again as Ellie twisted the pie in. But then her body shook with laughter underneath the crust. Lyric again wiped large swathes of foam and crust away from her face. Foam stuck to her braids and in her hair. It was, surprisingly to me, a bit of a turn on.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Lyric said, “but I think it might be time for you to get your first pie.” Lyric picked up a pie and took a step towards Ellie.

“Wait a minute,” Abby spoke up. “I haven’t pied anyone yet. Can I pie Ellie first?”

“Are you actually going to pie her, or just give her the pie so she can get me?” Lyric asked dryly.

“Ha ha. I’ll get her. I mean, if it’s okay with Ellie.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I figured it would have to happen sooner or later.”

Abby took the pie from Lyric and stepped up to Ellie. The brunette removed her sunglasses from the top of her head and ran a hand through her dark hair. She scrunched her face, wincing. Abby swung back the pie, but then stopped as giggles overtook her. “Sorry, sorry.” She pulled back the pie. Again, giggles took over Abby and she lowered the pie. She brushed her bangs back and turned to look at Lyric and me. “Sorry, I just can’t stop.”

“Let me help you,” Ellie said. She quickly pushed the pie in Abby’s hands up and into her face. Abby screamed in shock as she got her first pie in the face. She backed up, bending over and letting the pie fall off. Her bangs created a copper curtain in front of her face, dangling foam and crust. Abby tossed them back then straightened. She looked up at us from underneath the foam, her mouth wide open in shock and surprise. Green eyes poked out from white foam.

Ellie was just killing herself laughing. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Abby. You were just taking too long. I couldn’t resist.”

“That was totally unfair,” Abby said, throwing foam onto the ground.

“Oh, you three look so funny,” Ellie laughed.

I looked at her. “Hey, Lyric. Didn’t you say that the last person clean gets covered by everything else?”

“I believe I did, Dan.” She scooped up a pie in each hand and turned to Ellie. She motioned at Abby and me to the same. “I do believe it’s time for Ellie to get hers.”

Ellie picked up a pie of her own. She wasn’t about to go down easy. “First one to try it gets a pie in their face!”

“You can’t get all of us,” Lyric said. She turned to me. “Dan, quick, grab some pies and-”

Ellie took advantage of Lyric turning away. She stepped forward quickly, smushing her pie into Lyric’s face with some force. Lyric squealed again. The pie crust stuck to her face and, with a pie in each hand, she couldn’t wipe it off. Lyric shook her head, trying to dislodge the foam and crust, but with little success. She was able to shake enough away from her mouth to mumble. “A little help?”

I took the pies from her hands. Lyric immediately wiped foam from her face, glaring at Ellie. She motioned to me. “Give me my pies back, please.”

“Sure thing,” I said, smashing both pies into Lyric’s face, giving her a massive pie sandwich. Foam flew all over, covering Lyric’s head and hair, and squirting down onto her shoulders and shirt. Bits of crust were all over her. Ellie was laughing, Abby gasping at the sheer amount of mess. Lyric was laughing almost uncontrollably herself. She tried to wipe her face, but it was much less effective than before.

“There’s so much,” she laughed. Lyric tried to wipe foam and crust out of her hair. She was a mess. Foam covered her forearms, face and hair. One braid wasn’t even visible, hidden under a piece of crust. Her shirt was covered in trails of white stuff and graham crust.

“I believe that is called the pie sandwich,” I said.

Lyric tried to flick foam off her hands. “If I could read my sheet, I’d be able to corroborate that,” she said with a laugh.

“I wanna try giving someone one of those!” Abby said, suddenly excited again. “It looks like fun.” She picked up two pies and turned towards Ellie, eyeing her. “Are you going to stop me?”

“You don’t know until you try,” Ellie answered with a challenging smirk. She wiggled her fingers at Abby. Daring her on.

“You can get me, Abby,” I said. I know what you’re thinking, but hold up. For starters, I had been getting a bit of a thrill being pied by the girls. And more importantly, I had a caveat for still mostly clean redhead. I gathered two pies of my own. “I know before you had trouble ‘pulling the trigger,’ so to speak. So this time, have some encouragement.” Abby looked slightly worried at the sight of me approaching with two pies. “On the count of three, we hit each other. I’m not holding up. So unless you want to get covered with nothing to show for it…”

“I have to get you,” she finished.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, I’m loving this idea,” Ellie giggled, stepping back.

Abby looked very nervous, barely able to keep her eyes off my pies. I was barely able to concentrate, with this cute girl in front of me, biting her lip, green eyes wide. I stood with my arms out, pies at the ready on either side of her. Abby mirrored my pose. Lyric was laughing behind me somewhere. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ellie slip a pie off the table. I didn’t care who she intended it for – I was about to get covered anyways.

“Ready?” Lyric asked through giggles. I nodded. Abby murmured ‘uh uh,’ but Lyric didn’t care or notice. “I’ll count you off. 1. 2. 3!”

I slammed my pies together, with Abby’s head in between. She reacted a bit later, her hit suffering as she was getting covered by mine. Still, it felt great. One pie hit low on the right side of my head, mostly getting my neck and spilling down my back. The other hit pretty well on the left side, but the result was that my face was only half covered and I could still see Abby’s destruction.

I hit her perfectly, sending foam shooting over her red hair. I smeared one pie into her face; the other up and over. Abby screamed, immediately trying to pull back. She dropped the pies she had hit me with. I followed for a second, then let up. Crust was rubbed into her head. Her face was lost in foam and crumbs. Abby swept back her long bangs out of the way, then dug out her eyes. Her white shirt was picking up some colour with graham crust covering it. She flicked foam off her hands, then looked up at us. “That was… awesome.” Abby giggled, touching the mess on the side of her head.

“Then have some more awesome,” Ellie said, smashing another pie into Abby’s face.

Abby squealed and pulled away. But instead of wiping it off this time, she just stood there, laughing as the crust fell away. I didn’t even notice that Ellie had another pie. Until she stepped towards me.

“And for Dan. Cause Abby missed a spot.” She smashed the pie into my face, smearing it up and leaving the tin on my head like a hat. I felt it was only a matter of time before one of the girls noticed my bulging pants. I wiped my eyes and gave her a fake glare. Ellie responded with a cute, cheeky smile. “Nice hat.”

“Thanks. It’s new.”

Ellie brushed some crust and foam off the sleeve of her pink sweatshirt. “Oh my. I’m getting dirty.” I looked at her. She stuck out. Ellie stood in roughly the centre of the room, an odd choice. It was hardly as defensible as most of her positioning so far. Getting sloppy? She certainly didn’t look sloppy. Abby, Lyric and I were covered with foam and crust. Ellie was miraculously still clean. And not only that, but looking as hot as she did earlier.

“Lyric?”

“Yeah, Abby?”

“Can we all get Ellie now?”

“Yes, I definitely think now is a good time.”

“Uh, what?” Ellie asked. Suddenly, she was surrounded by three foam monsters, all holding two big foam pies. And she was unarmed. Ellie put up her hands.

“Remember the rules. No blocking!” Abby said.

“But the rules never said anything about six pies at a time!”

“Alright,” Lyric said. “One a time then. It’s only fair.” Ellie perked up at this. Abby looked disappointed. “Dan. You want the honour?”

“Sure.”

Ellie took a deep breath, then turned to face me. She took a deep breath, tucked her hair back, then clasped her hands below her breasts. I pulled back my pie and Ellie’s face disappeared as Lyric hit with a pie sandwich from behind. I added mine into her face as she shrieked in shock. Foam squirted everywhere. Ellie reached up to throw off my pie, allowing me to push my second pie into her still covered face. More shrieks. Abby stepped up, giving her a front back pie sandwich, smothering her beautiful brown hair in white foam. Ellie’s hands waved at her sides, but didn’t do anything. She was submitting to the onslaught.

Lyric appeared with two more pies, but seeing as how Ellie’s head was just covered, she switched up her tactics. She placed this two pies on Ellie’s breasts. Another shriek. And now she tried to wipe some of the massive amount of cream off. Abby was back with another two pies.

“Where is there even room for those?” Lyric asked.

“Here!” Abby answered, giving Lyric another pie sandwich. “I like those!” Abby grinned.

“Argh, stop it!” Lyric fake grumbled, throwing foam and crust off her face and onto the ground.

“Oh my god,” Ellie gasped from beside her. She wiped large amounts of foam off her face and out of her hair, only to be stuck with it in her hands. “What do I do with this?”

I looked at the table of pies. Only eight were left. “Aww… We’re running out of pies.” That didn’t stop me from rearming myself.

“Wait, wait,” Lyric said, holding up her foam covered arms. She wiped more foam and crust off her hair. She was so covered. “We have one more move to practice. A staple of the comedic piefight – the self-pie.”

“Self-pie?” I echoed.

“It’s when you push a pie into your own face,” Lyric explained. She handed a fresh pie to Abby and Ellie, then grabbed on herself.

“So are you going to demonstrate?” Ellie asked. Her dark hair was a mess of white foam and brown crust and she still wore one of the pie tins on her breast. The other had slid off.

“Why don’t you? Or Dan?”

“I’ll go first!” Abby exclaimed, her exuberance surprising us all. “Ready?”

Abby didn’t wait for answer. Holding her pie in two hands, Abby smashed it up and into her own face, sending foam oozing out in a halo around her face and into her covered hair. She dropped the tin, revealing a mask of crust. It fell away from her face as she laughed, giddy.

“Oh my god, Abby,” Lyric laughed.

“You’re next,” I said, motioning to Ellie.

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Ha. I’m not going to pie myself.” However, Ellie was paying a lot of attention to how casually she was holding her pie. It was pretty easy for me to step over and quickly push her hand – and pie – up and into her own face.

Ellie shrieked in surprise, immediately wiping foam and crust off her face. She threw it on the floor in fake anger. “You jerk!” Ellie quickly ran to the table, grabbed one of the remaining pies and came at me. I still had a pie in my hand though. As soon as she got in range, the two of us nailed each other in an explosion of foam, crust and laughter.

“Guys! Calm down!” Lyric said. “There are only four pies left, now!”

“Yeah!” Abby shouted. I looked to see that she had grabbed another pie. “And you’re supposed to be doing this.” With a crazed giggle, Abby smashed that pie into her own face.

“Oh, wow, Abby.” Lyric shook her head. She took a step towards the laughing redhead. “I kinda feel like I have to do this now.” She pushed her final pie into Abby’s face, making sure to give a few good twists. Lyric stepped back to observe her handiwork. Abby laughed, causing cream and crust to fall away from her mouth, but that was it.

Lyric didn’t notice that Ellie and I had taken the last two pies until we were on either side of her. “Shit.” We gave her one final pie sandwich. Ellie really took pleasure in smearing the final pie around Lyric’s head and face. The blonde just held up her arms in faux exasperation. “Aren’t I covered enough?”

With all the pies used up, we paused and finally took stock of each other. We – but especially the girls – were covered. Ellie continued to clean foam and crust out of her dark hair, as Lyric cleared her face. Abby wiped her eyes, but didn’t seem to be in any rush to clean off more.

“Well… That was informative,” Ellie laughed. She looked at Lyric. “I hope you have several showers here.”

Tessa: Part One

The story of my life with Tessa doesn’t have some grand beginning.  My parents tell a story about how my dad was more interested in my mom’s roommate, until she cancelled plans on him and he got to know my mother instead.  Tessa’s parents met when they were only six and grew up as best friends, until it became something more.  My best friend likes to tell the story about how he was the best man at a wedding where his future wife was the maid of honour.  With me and Tessa… I just thought she was cute.

I work in the Tech Support ‘squad’ at the major university in town.  We have over 20,000 students spread out over a foolishly sprawling campus.  At least, in my opinion.  I spend most of my day, going from building to building, helping to fix whatever tech problems arise when professors who still use typewriters try to operate a projector.  I like my job and it doesn’t hurt that I’m surrounded by fun people who, physically, pretty much fall into the archetype of ‘tech support.’  I’m just an average guy, looks wise, but I keep in shape and play some sports, so I often feel like the stud around our office.

I first saw Tessa in one of the cafeterias on campus.  I had been working in one of our older computer labs in one of the older buildings and just stopped into the nearby cafeteria for lunch.  Tessa was sitting at a table across the room, eating and chatting with people who, judging from their age, to be staff.

She was clearly much younger than them, probably around my age, mid-20s.  Short and slender, with just enough curve.  Mahogany brown hair fell a few inches past her shoulders.  It shone in the light and curled, just a little, at the ends.  She had bright brown eyes and when she laughed, her nose crinkled, just a little.  She was gorgeous, even from a distance.

But I didn’t go talk to her.  One tech guy approaching a hot girl at a table of eight people?  Rough time.  Besides, I worked at an university.  While we were not supposed to date students, there sure were a lot of hot ones around.  And no, it’s not creepy to say that.  I’m not much older than them (if even.)

I had forgotten about her until a week later, when I was back in the same building around lunch.  I stopped in the cafeteria and there she was again.  And so was the group.  Again, I said nothing, just admiring her – discreetly – from afar.  I checked my watch.  12:40, around the same time as last time.  Over the next few weeks, I managed to stop into Tessa’s cafeteria for a few lunches.  She was always there, always with her friends, always laughing and smiling and casually looking beautiful.

Which brings us to the fateful Friday, as I like to call it.  It was a casual Friday, which meant not having to wear the slightly demeaning and well labelled polo shirt advertising me as member of Tech Support.  It had been a long morning and I was heading back to the home office for lunch, when I realized I was right beside Tessa’s building (looooong morning).  I decided, what the hell, and headed in.  To my surprise, Tessa was there, sitting alone and reading a thick novel.  Summoning whatever courage I could and praying to whatever deity I could think of, I grabbed some lunch and approached her.

“Hey,” I said in my best smooth pick up voice – which means it was not very good, “how are you?”

She didn’t look up.  “Sorry, I don’t date students.”

“I’m not a student.  I’m with… um…. Tech Support,” I hoped that sounded cooler than it did in my head.  

This time Tessa looked up.  Her brown eyes studied me, the corners of her mouth turned down.  “Where’s your AV shirt?”

“It’s casual Friday,” I said lamely.  Tessa didn’t answer.  I decided to swing for the fences.  “Look, I don’t want to eat standing up and there’s really nowhere else to sit, so if I could… you know.”

She arched an eyebrow and then looked around the cafeteria.  The almost empty cafeteria.  There were other places to sit, literally everywhere.  She should’ve told me to get lost, but to my infinite surprise, she didn’t.  Instead, the dimples appeared and, for the first time, Tessa’s beaming smile was for me.  I still have no idea why this worked (Tessa tells me now it’s because I had a ‘trustworthy face’ and ‘cute eyes’), but I chose to believe it was my prayers, because it was nothing short of a miracle.  “Sure.  Have a seat,” she put aside her book and I knew I was in.  “I’m Tessa.”

“Rob.”

We hit it off immediately, with some fun, friendly banter and flirting.  I had asked her out within 20 minutes, but we didn’t part until 30 minutes after that (and both of us were late).  As good as that first meeting went, the beginning of our dating life went poorly.  I took her to dinner for our first date and I immediately felt a connection, and not just because I’d been through a dry spell.  I admitted it had been several years since my last ‘serious’ relationship ended.  

Tessa confided in me that she was recently out of a long, several year relationship.  Her now ex-boyfriend had been cheating on her for over a year before she found out.  I was her first date in the four months since.  She was up front about wanting to take things slow.

She wasn’t lying.  After a great evening, I went in for a goodnight kiss and Tessa turned away.  “Sorry,” she said.  “I like you, Rob, honest.  I want there to be a second date, and a third and fourth and fifth, but I’m just not ready for a kiss yet.  Sorry.”

I respected her and held off.  In retrospect, I’m glad I did, but it was incredibly frustrating at the time.  It was the same story over the next few dates.  We had a great time, with lively conversation and a healthy amount of flirting.  Tessa had no problem taking my hand or giving me a hug, but she still wanted to move so…. Slowly….  It was slow, even for me.

I also had to control the overwhelming desire to want to mess her up.  I love to see girls wet or messy, and with a girl as gorgeous as Tessa and with her playfulness and fun attitude, it was a really powerful urge.  It had pretty much never turned out well when I had told a girl about my fetish.  

It was a warm late spring night.  Tessa was dressed casually, but stylishly.  She had on a light, white shirt with flower designs near the waist and neck.  It fit loosely, with long sleeves and a hem line that extended well past her waist.  Her loose, dark hair contrasted beautifully with the light shirt.  A simple bra was just visible underneath the light material.  Black jeans completed the look.

We strolled through an park near my apartment.  It was oddly empty, considering the nice weather.  We walked, hand in hand, and chatted.  Tessa pulled me to a stop in front of the park’s splash pad.  “A splash pad.  I love these things.  There’s one near my sister’s place; we took my nephew there last weekend.”

“If my niece was a bit older, we could take them together,” I offered lamely.

Tessa rolled her eyes.  “You don’t have to make excuses to hang out, Rob, we’re dating.  Come on, let’s check it out.”  She pulled me onto the splash pad.

Now, I’m not sure where they all have these things.  Here, the government is building them to replace wading pools (and that troublesome standing water and having to pay lifeguards) with something that is, arguably, more fun for more kids.  They’re all a bit different, but generally a bunch of ground nozzles spray water into the area.  They are kind of like a fountain you are supposed to play in.  They are usually off, activated by some buttons throughout the pad.  At night, with no one there, the whole thing was quiet and empty.

Tessa put down her purse and approached it.  “How does this one work?  Is it even on for the season, yet?”

“Yeah, there have been kids playing in it for about a month now.  Ever since the weather got warm.”  I watched her examine some of the features.  There were a bunch of simple nozzles that looked like big metal flowers and some that just pointed straight up.  A ‘tunnel’ of sorts was made out of several arches.  At one side was a tall ‘tree’ structure, with buckets hanging about ten feet up.  I had seen that one in action.  The buckets filled with water until they unbalanced and dumped it out.  “Uh, are you planning on playing in it?”

“I’m hardly dressed for it,” Tessa answered.  Still, a mischievous glint was in those eyes.  And in retrospect, that wasn’t an answer.  “This one is bigger than the one near my sister’s.”

By now, I had followed her into the splash pad.  I looked around, not really interested in it at all.  “It seems really popular in summer.  Less so now.”

“Where’s the ‘On’ button?”

“Over there,” I waved at the far side of the splash pad.  I was now standing in front of one of the bent flower nozzles.  Tessa was on the other side of it.  I leaned up against it.  “Maybe we’ll have to come back some night when we have our bathing suits.”

She gave me a sweet smile, then said, way too innocently, “So these individual buttons don’t work?”

She pressed it.  There was a low gurgle and then a strong jet of water burst from the pipe, hitting me right in the stomach.  It was freezing cold.  I gasped and moved to the side, out the water.  Still, I was soaked.  My shirt clung to my stomach and, worse, cold water dripped down my crotch and legs.

Tessa was killing herself laughing.  “Oh god.  I’m so sorry, Rob.”

“That is fucking freezing,” I said, flicking my hands.  I grimaced as the cold seeped everywhere.  Tessa bit her lip to try to stop laughing.  It didn’t work and just made her look super cute.  God, she was hard to get mad at.  “Not nice,” I said.

“Sorry, sorry,” she laughed.  It was the most insincere apology I’d ever heard.  Tessa took a few steps back.  Around us, the spray pad started to come to life.  Another jet fired from my left.  It skinned the back of my legs as I jumped forward.  Tessa laughed some more, backing up more from the laughter than any threat of me own.  She backed into a metal pole and leaned there.

“Maybe we won’t have to come back,” Tessa giggled.  She made no attempt to disguise how much she was enjoying my discomfort.  “You look ready to play in the water now.  Go run through the tunnel, Rob.”

“I don’t plan on going through it alone,” I responded.

Tessa straightened; she looked ready to run.  But I wasn’t going to have to chase her.  See, when Tessa pressed the button, she woke up the splash pad, and different things worked at different paces.  The bucket tree had just been filling up the buckets.  Tessa was either unaware of this fact or unaware that she was standing right under one of them, or both.

A drop of water escaped an almost full bucket and plopped on the top of her head.  Tessa reached up, patted her hair with a hand.  “What the…”

The bucket upended, dumping several litres of cold water straight down onto her head.  It splashed out in a glorious cone.  Tessa half gasped and half screeched.  She stood, arms outstretched in shock.  Her hair, shining and damp, hung over her face.  Her shirt escaped much damage, except on the shoulders.  The thin fabric turned almost transparent, sticking to her fair skin.  I took it all in and suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so cold.  I quickly hammered a nearby button, making sure the buckets started to refill.

Tessa slowly reached up, parting her wet and pushing it back.  Her mouth was wide open, but she was smiling.  I was surprised to discover how playful, and dramatic, she was.  “How was that?” I asked.

“Cold,” she laughed.  She pulled her hair to one side, wringing it out slightly.  Her shirt was damp where it had hung, turning lighter but not enough to go see through yet.  “That was meaner than mine.”

“I didn’t do that.  You did it when you pressed the button originally.”

“You’re pressing a button now!”

“Yeah, so the buckets will refill.”

“The buckets will… oh, shit!”  I had stalled just enough.  The bucket above her dumped again, but this time Tessa was already moving.  She jumped forward, and the water mostly caught her in the back.  She scream-laughed again.  “That is so cold.”

She turned, showing me her back.  Most of the shirt had turned transparent.  Her bra strap was clearly visible.  The fabric clung to her fair skin.  “Well, this is a little embarrassing,” she giggled.  “Not very ladylike.”

“Of course,” I said.  “You weren’t supposed to dodge out of the way.”

Tessa laughed, pulling her hair to the side again.  “I still think I had it worse.”

“That’s up for debate,” I shrugged.

She laughed again and moved around the splash pad, eying some of the other contraptions.  “I don’t suppose I could convince you to stand under this shower-like thing for a minute or so?”

“Ladies first.”

“Pass.”  Tessa stopped in the middle of the pad.  The whole thing sat in a small depression, sloping slightly downwards to several drainage spots.  The centre was one of them.  It was a colourful plastic grate, a bit wider than a manhole, with an assortment of dark holes and slots.  The very middle of the grate was a red circle, resembling the buttons on the rest of the spray pad contraptions.  “What is this thing?”

“A drainage grate,” I said, as though it was obvious.  Primarily because I thought it was.

Tessa rolled her eyes.  “This looks like a button.”

“Why would there be a button on a grate?”

“Kind of my point, Rob.”  She crouched down on the grate.  Her damp hair, shining in the fading light, fell around her face.  She stopped short.  “Do me a favour and stand under that shower head.  Just in case.”

“You think the grate button will turn on the shower that has a clear button on the side?”

“I hoping it’s a master button,” she said with a wicked smile.  “Stand under the shower.  If nothing happens and you’re right, I’ll let you turn it on with me under it.  Deal?”

My heart jumped and my penis stiffened.  “Deal.”

“Come on, master button,” she said.  A slight click as she pressed it.  Nothing happened.  “Well, that was disappointing.”

“Then I guess we better-“

“Wait, what’s that?”  A gurgling noise came from underneath Tessa and the grate she crouched on.  Suddenly, she disappeared, as jets of water exploded up from around her.  The extended up, maybe seven feet in the air.  Tessa screeched from within the water column.  Then, as quickly as they had appeared, the jets of water fell back down to earth.

Tessa stood there, soaked to the skin.  Her arms were outstretched, hands shaking in surprise.  Her entire shirt clung to her form, leaving nothing to the imagination anymore.  Her jeans glistened and shone.  Her brown hair fell around her, wet and messy.  “What.  The.  Fuck.”

She looked up at me, mouth still gaping in air, and slicked back her hair.  A water goddess, standing there in front of me.  And all I could do was laugh.  “That was hilarious.”

“I’m fucking soaked!”

“You hoped it would activate the shower over me!”

“Fair enough,” Tessa giggled, slicking more hair back.  She looked as though she had just come out the shower.  She suddenly became aware of how transparent her shirt was and started trying to adjust it.  She pulled at her clothes, trying to get them to hang again.  She sparkled in the fading light.  “It seems a little unequal, though.  With me soaked and you not.”

“I didn’t go around pressing buttons,” I responded.

“Yes, yes,” Tessa looked around, “but before we go, I really want to try that tunnel thing.”  She looked back at me, a mischievous smile on her face that made my heart beat faster.  “I dare you to run through it with me.”

I made of show of thinking it over.  The tunnel was, essentially, a spiral of hose set on its side.  A few metres long, but tall and wide enough for two adults to go through together.  Nozzles in the hoses created many thin streams of water inside it.  When the tunnel was turned on, the water jets resembled the most difficult laser grids from Hollywood heist movies.  

“Challenge accepted.”

“Awesome.”  Tessa took my hand and pulled me towards the mouth of the tunnel.  I figured there were few kids that came to the splash pad less excited than my girlfriend was at the moment.

I held my other hand out, feeling the closest spray.  “I think I’m quick enough to make it through dry,” I stated, matter of fact.  Please note that this was clearly impossible.

Tessa laughed.  “Come on!”

She pulled me forward into the streams of water, screaming as the first ones hit her.  The streams immediately hit me from all sides as I kept pace.  The water was as cold as before, but it didn’t feel as bad.  I don’t know if it was because I was still wet from before or if it was because of the soaked angel at my side.  

I was focused on my feet, not wanting to trip where the spiral met the concrete, so I didn’t see Tessa stop when we got halfway.  I felt it, though.  She get grip on me, pulling me up short.  I turned back towards her.

“What’s wrong?” I yelled, water streams hitting me in the face as I spoke.

Tessa pulled me back into her, into the hottest, wettest, most passionate kiss I’ve ever had.  Her hands were in my wet hair.  Her lithe body pressed up against mine, our soaked clothes provided the slightest of barrier.  She ground against me, as though she couldn’t get close enough.  I have a vague memory of not knowing what to do with my hands.  Tessa didn’t seem to care.  The water continued to explode around us.

Then it was gone.  The magic of the moment of the moment was broken.  The water in the tunnel had shut off with no one pressing the button.

Tessa pulled back gently, smiling.  Water dripped from her face and hair.  For a long moment, I was lost in her eyes.  For those interested, my hands apparently ended up on the small of her back.  “Wow,” she said.

I ran one hand through her wet hair, enjoying the texture as I let fall back to her shoulders.  Tessa gave a little shudder.  She took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself.  “Your place is pretty close by, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We should probably get out of these wet clothes.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you say anything but ‘yeah’ anymore?”

I ran my hand through her hair again.  Another deep sigh.  I smirked.  “Nope.”

“Then what are we waiting around here for?”

Tessa: Part Two

I will suggest reading Part One first. I would link to it - it's on this site - but I'm pretty hopeless at stuff like that.

The night at the splash pad pretty much changed the relationship between Tessa and myself. Well, to be fair, it was mostly what happened after the splash pad. Things were great and I felt like my patience was paid off, ten fold.

And one of the things that made it so much fun was our work relationship. We both had lives outside of work - well, Tessa more than me, perhaps - so we couldn't spend as many nights together as we wanted. But with us both working on campus there was almost not a single day that went by where I didn't get to see that wondrous smile. We often had lunch together, but if that wasn't possible, we'd at least meet up for a quick coffee break. But since we didn't actually work together, there was no overexposure, or weird bylaws to worry about. Plus, summer session had just started, meaning the campus was a lot emptier and we were both less busy.

Since my job in Tech Support took me all over the campus, it was often me dropping in to her office, so I got to know her co-workers pretty well. Tessa worked in the Administration of the Faculty of Economics. I'd be lying if I said I knew exactly what her job entailed, but it seemed to mostly revolve around meetings, emails, and writing reports.

It was the end of the July when we both suddenly found ourselves really busy, I really started to miss spending as much time with her. I was working overtime, helping to get ready for some big conference the university was hosting. Tessa had been put in charge of the administrative side of her department's children's camp. "Camp Economics!" she had told me, complete with sarcastic grin and a one fingered salute.

"That bad, huh?"

"Kids are punks, nowadays. Oh my god, that makes me sound old."

"Yeah, you should think about taking up bridge." I turned away and tried to make the following question sound as casual as possible. "So, you don't like kids?"

"Little kids are fine. These kids are 12-14. Punks. With all their loud music."

"Saggy jeans."

"Justin Beibers."

"Touche."

Camp Economics started the next week. Tessa was required to spend her day with the kids, in a sort of "supervisory role", as she described to me, while Economics students did most of the teaching. I had often thought about having kids in my future and hearing Tessa laugh and tell stories about her days with them was nice. She complained, a lot, but it was done with affection. She referred to them as her "Little Monsters." Unfortunately, since she had to supervise the kids, it meant no chance to see her at work all week.

"If I leave my desk to go get coffee with you, I might miss a phone call or email, but it'll still be there when I get back," she had told me. "If I leave the kids, I kind of doubt they will be."

"Or a Lord of the Flies type scenario."

"Wouldn't want to see that on the next performance evaluation."

That Friday rolled around and Tessa told me I needed to bring my car to the Economics Building.

"The week has been building up to the kids running their own little business. So they planned a sort of car wash slash drink stand slash Pokemon Go cell phone charging station. I know we haven't seen much of each other these past two weeks, so bring you car by. 1:30 - 4:00. Who knows, you might even get the 'manager's special'."

"Is that like a few bucks off the price?"

"No, Rob. It's not a deal."

"A free drink."

"I'm going to take you around a corner and we're going to make out for five minutes."

"So... no free drink?"

"Ass."

I'm not going to lie. The thought of Tessa taking part in a carwash got my pulse going. She was so gorgeous wet. I replayed the night at the splash pad multiple times a week in my head. Surely these rowdy kids would make sure she didn't escape clean and dry, right? I planned it out in my head. I would arrive later. It would maximize the opportunities for Tessa to get soaked by the children, while minimizing the time I would spend with the kids around. Perfect.

Well, far from perfect, in reality. Of course, the Friday happened to be a crazy day at work. It was 4:30 by the time I pulled my car - which really did need a wash - into the Economics parking lot. The carwash was over. The kids were gone. A few tables and chairs sat to one side, surrounding by buckets, coolers and homemade signs. There were a few people cleaning up, wearing soaking wet shirts. The instructors, I figured, looking for Tessa. She wasn't here.

"Rob!"

I turned to see Tessa approaching. She was 100%, completely dry. I quickly swallowed my disappointment and smiled. "Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Yeah, I got your text," she said, giving me a quick kiss as a greeting. Tessa motioned to a woman with her. "Rob, you remember Joan, right?"

Joan was one of Tessa's coworkers. She was in her thirties and good looking. She had dark brown hair, styled in a long pixie cut, that gave off an easygoing, low maintenance vibe as opposed to a soccer mom vibe. She was dressed in dark jeans and a black and white striped shirt, under a simple purple blazer.

What struck me as odd was Tessa's outfit. She looked like she was heading to the gym. She was wearing grey shorts and a matching, lightweight grey hoodie, with pink trim, unzipped to reveal a plain white T-shirt. I knew she had mentioned how working with Camp Economics meant she could go to work dressed more casual, but this just seemed odd for her. Her mahogany brown hair was tied back in a pony tail that left the sides free. I noticed some braids in the pony tail. Probably from some of the girls at camp.

"Of course," is what I said, nodding at Joan while slipping an arm behind Tessa's back. She leaned into me. Joan smirked at this.

"I used to run the Camp for five years. I glad Tessa was able to give me a break this year. She did a great job."

"It was a fun week," Tessa admitted. She got me glancing at her shorts. They were a little short to be appropriate when working with kids, but I certainly the view. "I had an accident," she said.

Joan laughed. "More like, one of the kids had an accident."

"Tripped down the stairs," Tessa said, making a motion with her hand. "Nose bleeding everywhere, but mostly on me, it seemed. Luckily, I had planned on going to the gym after work."

"So, you didn't help out at the carwash?"

Tessa's slow smile told me she knew exactly what I was thinking. "No, I did not. This was my only change of clothes."

"Well, I want to go thank the instructors, as well" Joan said. "Good to see you, Rob."

Tessa waited until Joan had moved away to talk to a mostly dry blonde instructor before smirking at me. "You wanted me to get wet."

"Maybe," I said, playing with her hands. "Is that so wrong?"

"No," she gave me a hungry grin, pulling away a few steps to sit on one of the tables. Tessa was facing me now. Sitting caused her shorts to ride up even more and her legs were very distracting as she kicked them back and forth. "I remember that night at the park. I liked the way you looked at me that night. I liked the way it felt."

"Really... I think about that night a lot, too."

"I'm not surprised," Tessa said, leaning forward. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I have that effect on men."

There wasn't much that could distract me from those deep brown eyes, but Tessa sat back again, laughing at her own joke. I noticed some movement behind her. It was Joan, and that blonde instructor. She looked like a young student, maybe even just finishing her freshman year. She had light blonde hair hanging free past her shoulders. She wore a forest green T-Shirt, emblazoned with the Camp Economics logo. The lower half of it was wet, as were her jean shorts, and the shirt was bunch up and tied in the dampest area.

But what had struck me was what they were doing. They had stopped cleaning and were filling up some of the carwash buckets with a hose.

"Maybe I can convince you to forego the gym tonight, and just come home with me."

Tessa had noticed some clear tape stuck on the table. She picked at it with a finger. "Maybe. Food first, though. I'm starving."

"I can cook you something."

Tessa laughed. "You always need, like, a week to prepare before cooking me anything."

"I could order pizza," I corrected, getting another laugh. Joan was now motioning towards us. She looked up and met my eyes. She quickly held up a finger - sssshhh - before Tessa noticed what I was watching.

"My car is here, though."

"I can always give you cab fare in the morning," I said with a smile.

Tessa rolled her eyes. "What a gentleman."

Behind her, Joan and the instructor, both carrying a large bucket of water, crept up. Joan put her bucket down and, instead, put her arm around Tessa. "I'm taking off."

"Have a great weekend, Joan."

"Thanks. You guys, too." Joan stopped, as though she just remembered something. Behind Tessa, still unnoticed, the blonde instructor raised the bucket. "I know it's been a long week for you, but there's kind of been a tradition at Camp Economics for years. The administrative liaison always takes part in the end of camp business."

With that, Joan took a quick step back. Tessa's brow furrowed in confusion for a split second before SPLASH - the instructor dumped the entire bucket over head.

Tessa screamed and jumped off to her feet. She was soaked. Her bangs and loose hair was matted to her face. Water streamed off her ponytail. Her sweatshirt had turned a darker grey and, in the process of getting soaked and jumping up, had slid down her arms. It had taken the brunt of the watery assault; her white undershirt was still mostly dry, at least in the front.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed, pushing her wet hair back from her face. Tessa pulled her sweatshirt back up, whimpering slightly at the feel of the wet clothes. She turned to face her assailants, both of them laughing hysterically. Tessa's back had gotten even wetter. The hood of her sweatshirt bulged a little under the water it held. The back of her lightweight shorts were absolutely soaked. The grey fabric clung to her ass like a second skin, close enough that I could make out the outline of her underwear. It took all my self resistant to stop from going to her.

I wanted to see how this played out.

"Kate!" Tessa yelled, accusingly, at the instructor. The blonde laughed, shrugged, and pointed at Joan. "Joan?"

Tessa's coworker could barely stop laughing to talk. "It's tradition," she giggled. "Look, you got off easy. My first year, they had a dunk tank I had to go in. One year, the kids came up with a circus theme and had a bunch of little booths, and I had to spend time in the Pie in the Face Booth. A bucket is nothing."

"You could have given me some warning!" Tessa started to circle around the table.

"Careful now," Joan warned, holding up the second bucket. "I came prepared."

Tessa just grinned and continued to circle. Joan backed away, trying to keep the table between them. It was clear to me from their laughter and grins that Tessa and Joan were more than just coworkers. They were good friends, too.

"Gimme that bucket!"

"I warned you!" Joan shouted, finally throwing the water at Tessa as she got too close.

Joan's aim was terrible. Most of the water missed my girlfriend as she dodged away, although she did take a hit on her side. Almost as much water hit Kate standing behind her. It splashed her in the front of her already wet jeans shorts. Kate grimaced. "They were just starting to dry..." she moaned.

Tessa pulled her soaking shorts away from the side of her leg. They snapped back to place with a wet smack. "Great," she said. I enjoyed watching the water drip down her toned legs. But Tessa was oblivious to me at the moment. She pointed at Kate, who was trying to rub water off her shorts. "Don't think you're out the woods yet."

Tessa stalked over to the collection of buckets, coolers and other supplies. She tossed a few buckets aside. "These are all empty."

"Ha ha," Joan teased.

Tessa's eyes landed on the coolers. "But the kids were selling bottled water..." She threw open the lid to the nearest cooler and reached inside.

"Stop her, Kate!" Joan yelled, laughing again.

Kate responded, hurrying over the cooler and reaching inside. Tessa quickly stepped back, something in her hand. Ice. In one smooth motion she pulled back the collar of Kate's shirt and stuffed the handful of ice down her back.

The instructor screeched and danced away, trying to free the ice. Tessa and Joan both laughed. Tessa reached back into the cooler and pulled out a small, cheap bottle of water. She quickly went to work on opening it.

"Oh no, you don't!" Joan yelled, coming up quickly. Tessa had just got the cap off and was able to swipe a stream of water at her. Joan squealed as cold water splash her stomach. She immediately stopped, gasping. Her reaction caused Tessa to freeze as well. She watched Joan, biting her lip slightly, her expression a mix of enjoyment over what she had done and impish mischievousness.

"That... is... freezing..." Joan grimaced.

"Serves you right," Tessa said. She watched Joan for another second and then raised the bottle, obviously planning to dump it over Joan's head. But her friend suddenly unfroze, her arm shooting up to grab the bottle. The two fought over it, twisting and pulling. The cheap plastic couldn't last. It fell apart with a crack, water exploding over their hands and arms.

"God, that is freezing!" Tessa exclaimed, tossing the spent bottle to the ground and shaking her hands.

Joan wiped her hands on her blazer, apparently past caring if it got wet. "I told you." The two paused, looking at each other. "I think we're even now."

"Even? I'm soaked!" Tessa said, pulling on her clinging shorts to prove her point. "You're barely wet."

Joan motioned to the cooler. "There was only the one bottle of water left, anyways."

Tessa looked in the cooler, then back at Joan with a wicked smile. She reached down. Joan's eyes got big. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. You started this," she said. Tessa's hand emerged griping a can of Coke. She begun to shake it. Joan paused for a split second and then grabbed her own. Was this really happening?

It was some bizarre Mexican standoff. The two women watched each other intently, shaking their soda cans. Tessa made the first move. She flicked the tab open, spraying the coke at Joan. It mostly hit her in the shirt, causing Joan to squeal. She opened her own can, returning the fire. The two sprayed and dumped their cans on each other, neither really trying to escape or stop the other, giggling the whole time.

Ammo spent, Tessa tossed her can to the ground. Joan followed. Tessa's shirt had started to take on a brownish shade, from the coke, but getting wet enough now for me to see her bra underneath. She picked at her soaked, clinging sweatshirt and wiped a sleeve over her face. "Sticky."

"Yeah, I did not expect to get coked when I came to work today," Joan laughed, slicking back her short hair. Her own shirt was starting to get rather transparent. Joan noticed, blushing, and starting doing up the buttons to her blazer.

Tessa flicked water - or Coke, more likely - off her hands and looked up at me. She gave a big, genuine smile. Just gorgeous.

Joan, however, was not finished. While Tessa was smiling at me, she had grabbed another can of Coke. She flicked the tab and proceeding to empty it over my girlfriend's head. Tessa gasped and closed her eyes. Her hands waved at her sides, but she didn't do anything to stop Joan. The dark brown water contrasted with her light skin.

The can was empty before Tessa pushed her wet hair aside. "Thanks for that. I really needed to be more sticky."

"Now, I think we're ev-EN!" Joan's sentence ended in a screech as the two were caught in a stream of water.

Kate had returned, hose in hand. Thumb over the end, she sprayed the two mercilessly. "I have to take the bus home like this!" the instructor yelled. Tessa and Joan screeched, each fighting to use the other as a shield, as Kate soaked them to the bone.

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

"Sorry for ruining your evening."

Joan and Tessa stood with me by my car, both still dripping onto the parking lot. Joan's short hair was slicked back. Her buttoned up blazer hugged her curves like a lover. Still, I barely noticed her with wet Tessa beside her. Tessa had taken off her sweatshirt, apparently not caring that her white shirt was essentially transparent at this point; her black bra clearly visible underneath. Her short shorts rode up, leaving little to the imagination there, either. She had undone her hair, allowing it to fall damply around her shoulders. She hadn't left my side since the water fight ended and her hand was now firmly in my pocket. I needed to get her home. Fast.

"I had nowhere to go anyways," Joan laughed. "May try to find Kate, though."

The instructor had disappeared into the Economics Building as soon as she had stopped spraying them. Kate clearly feared retribution.

"Economists never forget," Joan said with a wink.

"Is that really a saying?"

"I don't think so," Joan laughed, waving goodbye.

I turned to Tessa. "So... my place or yours?"

"As funny as it sounds, I really need to shower first," she sighed. "But after that... I might have a few ideas of what we can do this weekend..."

Marley and Me

First off, a little housekeeping. This was the first WAM story I ever finished and posted online, quite a few years ago now, not on the previous iteration of the Archive, but the one that came before that. This story is heavily based on the actual WAM experiences I had with my then girlfriend. Of course, names have been changed to protect the ‘innocent’. Enjoy.

The first thing you need to know, is that I was in love. I was pretty sure of that fact. I was, admittedly, the kind of guy who thought he fell in love every time a pretty girl smiled at him. I thought I had been in love before, but this time, it was different. Everything came so naturally and easily, it made all the others seem like a battle from the first date.

I hadn’t been looking for love when I met Marley in the hospital (long story), but I was crazy for her. Marley was everything I wanted in a girl. She was smart (RN and just in her mid twenties), she was fun and playful, she was ambitious enough to keep my procrastinating ass in gear, but not so much to create tension between us. Marley spoke her mind, but wasn’t afraid to be silly and goofy. And she was beautiful. Marley was short and slight of stature, with dark, dark brown hair that hung well past her shoulders. Long bangs hung down to her eyebrows, sometimes covering her dark brown eyes. Marley’s skin was light, looking almost pale in the winter. She hated it, but I adored the contrast.

It probably won’t surprise you to learn that I like to see girls get messy. A big cream pie in the face has always been a turn on for me. I had never told Marley about this. I was too worried that she would think I was “weird” or “creepy.” I had been called that before by a previous girlfriend. I wished getting messy was part of our relationship, but I loved where we were, regardless. And as it turned out, things worked pretty well for me without pushing it.

It all started one Saturday afternoon. Marley only got two Saturdays off in a month, so we usually ended spending the whole day together. Today, Marley had decided that we were going to cook some cinnamon buns.

I know that sounds lame, but you have to know some things. 1) Marley LOVES to cook. And even more than that, she loves to get me to help. She gets some odd pleasure in having me help her cook, even though I’m terrible at. Maybe that’s why she likes it. Hmmm… 2) Marley and I love to tease each other. 3) I hold the trump card when she teases me, because Marley is very ticklish and I am not.

So there we were, in her kitchen, making cinnamon buns. I think.

“Can we add a lot of cinnamon and make them super cinnamon buns?” I asked. “Super cinnamon buns. That’s hard to say.”

“Cinnamon isn’t really something you want a lot of,” Marley answered with that amused smile of hers.

“How do you? Have you ever made super cinnamon buns?”

“Uh, no. I’m right, though, Will.”

“Heard that one, before,” I said. I quickly moved behind her and tickled her sides. Marley screeched and jumped away from me, laughing.

“No!” she said, holding out a finger. She sounded serious, but her wide grin and bright eyes said otherwise. “No tickling today.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I have a secret plan to stop you.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Have you created some sort of tickle-proof suit?”

“Even better,” Marley smirked. She opened her fridge and pulled out a clear plastic container. Inside were two store bought cream puffs. They were pretty simple; just two small biscuits sandwiching a healthy portion of cream.

“Those don’t really look appetizing.”

“I know,” Marley said, making a face. “I saw my aunt last night. You know how she’s always giving me food? She had bought these for me.”

I was still a little confused. “So what, if I tickle you, I don’t get to eat one?”

“Oh no, not at all.” Marley’s smile turned mischievous. Her brown eyes twinkled. “You tickle me, I smash one of these in you face.”

My heart started to pound. I tried to breath normally and just smile slowly. Was this my Marley? She was playful, yes, but she had never initiated anything messy. I had tried to start a food fight once during a cooking session, but it had been an abject failure. She had started water fights before… but this?

I tried to keep my voice even. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Marley’s beautiful, mischievous smirk didn’t disappear. “I most certainly would.”

“You would smash a cream puff into my glasses?”

Marley laughed and stepped toward. She reached up, taking my glasses off my face and putting them off to the side. After a second, she took off her own glasses and put them beside mine. My heart started beating faster. I didn’t trust my voice at the moment, so I just raised an eyebrow at her again.

Marley shrugged. “So we’re even.”

I found my voice again. “So what you’re saying, is that I’m not allowed to do this?” I reached out again and tickled her side.

Marley laughed and pulled away. “Yes! None of that!”

“None of what?” I asked, tickling her again. Marley laughed and tried to back away, but she was cornered against the counter. I moved in.

“No more tickling!” she tried to order, between the giggles and laughter. “Or you get creamed!”

“I don’t think you’d actually do that.”

“Oh no?” Marley managed to push me back a few steps. She popped open the plastic container and grabbed one of the cream puffs. Marley carefully removed the top part of the biscuit, leaving most of the cream. It was about the same amount as a decent sized handful. “One more tickle and this meets your face, mister.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Just try me,” she grinned. I reached forward and Marley quickly jerked away, laughing. I feinted again and again she pulled back. She stared me down, threatening me with the cream puff, her eyes glowing. I put my hands up in surrender. “Good,” Marley said. She tucked her dark hair back behind her ears and, still holding the cream puff, turned towards our forgotten cinnamon bun mixture.

Of course, at that moment, I stepped forward and tickled her again.

Marley squealed and turned back around. In one smooth motion, she smashed the cream puff into my face.

There wasn’t a lot of it, but the cool cream felt wonderful, as did hearing my girlfriend’s bright laughter. She rubbed it around my face as I took it, willingly. Quickly exhausting the cream, Marley tossed the biscuit part into the sink, still laughing. I licked my lips and slowly opened my eyes. She had managed to cover a good portion of my face, but I could still see clearly. The cream tasted okay. It’s light texture was great for getting people with.

“Oh my god, Will. Oh my god,” Marley was still laughing, having trouble catching her breath. “That is hilarious. That was so much fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said dryly, wiping some cream off my face. I flicked it into the sink. This just made her laugh harder. I gave her a fake annoyed look and Marley was finally able to control herself. She wiped some tears from her eyes.

“That was awesome,” she laughed. She took a deep breath, giggled one last time, and turned back to the cinnamon bun mix. “Now. Cinnamon buns.”

“Not so fast,” I said. I reached over to the plastic container and pulled out the second cream puff. Like Marley had, I took off the top half. I turned to face her. Marley’s mouth dropped open, although I could see the ends still turned up in a half smile.

“Hold on. I didn’t do any tickling.”

“That’s your best argument?” I responded, motioning to my creamed face.

“Um…” She looked at me and then the cream puff, then suddenly tried to make a break for it. Unfortunately for Marley, I was blocking the only exit from her kitchen.

I quickly wrapped my free arm around her, bringing her back up against me. She pretended to struggle against me, but I could tell she was barely trying to escape.

“Be nice,” she squeaked, scrunching up her face. I brought the cream puff up into her face, smushing it around. Marley squealed and I could feel her tense up against me. I released her and she quickly pulled away, turning so I could see her face.

Cream covered half of Marley’s beautiful face, completely covering one of her eyes. Her mouth was open in a wide grin. She shook with silent laughter and looked up at me. Marley tasted some of the cream on her face, but made no effort to clean herself.

“Ok, now that was awesome,” she laughed. “Mmm… Not bad, but I’m glad I didn’t eat them.” She came over and gave me a messy kiss.

And that was only the start. Nothing of note really happened for the next few weeks. I tried bringing up the cream puff fight a few times, but each time Marley would just smile, say something like “Yeah, that was fun,” and change the subject. I had dropped a few comments about how much I enjoyed it, and that was enough. I knew she had enjoyed it, too. I just had to be patient.

My chance came exactly three weeks later, on another Saturday. It was a grey, drizzling day and we were just hanging out at Marley’s apartment. Maybe it was the weather, but we were both bored.

“You wanna go do something?” Marley asked.

I put down the book where I had read the same page three times in a row. “Oh, yes. Please. You want to go see a movie?”

“No. Too much like the sitting we’re already doing.”

“Uh… mall?”

“No thanks.”

“Uh… walk in the rain?”

“I don’t have an umbrella.”

I was getting a little frustrated. “Then what do you want to do?”

Marley smiled at me. “Let’s bake some cinnamon buns.”

“Really? Don’t you have, like a dozen still frozen from last time.”

Marley rolled her big brown eyes at me. “No. Will. Let’s bake some cinnamon buns.”

I’m admittedly not the sharpest guy in the world, especially when it comes to reading into what people say. “What?”

“I want to bake cinnamon buns. Just like last time,” she said, a little slowly. Then she took her hand and rubbed it into my face, miming giving me a pie in the face.

I couldn’t hide my grin and Marley’s smile matched mine. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. I want to cream you again and get creamed myself.”

“Do you have more cream puffs?” I asked with a smirk.

Marley shook her head and jumped up, heading for the kitchen. I followed her. She bounded into the kitchen, excited and full of energy now. I found her rooting through the fridge. She cursed. “The closest thing I’ve got to whipcream is milk.”

“So, you want to dump milk on each other?”

“Don’t be silly. To the grocery store!” Marley proclaimed, grabbing her jacket.

Marley was grinning the whole ride there. There were only a few times where I’d seen her so excited. We got to Safeway and she led the way to the bakery section, her brown ponytail bouncing along. Marley furrowed her brows at the lack of cream puffs for sale.

I motioned towards some pies and cakes. “What about those?”

Marley picked up a banana cream pie. “$10? That’s kind of steep…” She gasped and looked up at me. I could almost see the light switching on over her head. “I have an idea. Come on.”

Marley quickly took me to the dairy section and pulled two cans of whipcream from the cooler. “You get these and I will go buy two graham cracker crusts. Meet you back at the car.” Without another word, she hurried off. I smiled to myself. This was turning out better than I had hoped. I had thought I was going to have to suggest cream pies myself.

I was a little surprised to see that Marley beat me to the car with a bag in hand. How had she gotten through the line so fast? She was bouncing on the balls of her feet while she waited.

As soon as we got back to her place, Marley disappeared into the bedroom. “Start getting set up,” she called. “In the bathroom.”

I opened her bag to find three crusts, instead of just two. I cleared the counters and took off my glasses. Marley came bouncing back in, wearing a plain red T-Shirt. To my disappointment, she had tied back her glorious brown hair and tucked her bangs behind a thing headband. Her glasses were off. She tossed me a plain shirt.

“One of yours,” she said. “You probably don’t want to get that shirt dirty.”

I started changing shirts. “What’s with the third crust?”

Marley had already started spraying cream into the first crust. She smiled at me, slightly embarrassed. “It’s for me. I want two.”

“I didn’t agree to take two pies in the face, while you just get one.”

“Actually, I want two in the face,” she said. I had to turn away to hide my shocked, and happy, expression. It didn’t take long for the two of us to fill the three pies, using all the cream in the bottles. We actually managed to make the pies fairly even, and they were of a decent size. Marley tossed the bottles to the side and took a pie. She balanced it on the palm of one hand and I felt my heart rate go up again.

“Get in the tub,” she ordered. I leaned over and gave her a deep kiss before climbing in. This was going to be fun. Marley smiled at me and cocked back her hand. “Any final words, sweetie? Before I make you a real sweetie?”

“You sure you don’t want all three?”

She laughed. “No, I don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”

“It was worth a try.”

Marley shook her head. “Nope. It really wasn’t.” And with that, she pushed the pie into my face. My world went white as the cool cream hit my face. I could feel her rubbing the tin around my face as she laughed hysterically. I held still as the crust broke apart, letting cream and graham fall onto my shirt and into the tub. A large piece fell off my forehead and I could see. Marley was almost doubled over laughing, her eyes shining. I wiped cream away from my eyes and flicked it at her. She barely noticed. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“That was hilarious,” Marley breathed out between laughs. “Oh wow. The look on your face.” She started laughing again. I wiped more cream and crust off, flinging it into the tub.

“I believe it’s payback time,” I said, stepping out of the tub.

Marley ran a hand along her hair, making sure it was tucked behind the headband. “I guess so,” she said, making a face and taking my place in the tub. I picked up one of the two pies and moved towards her.

Marley made a small squeal noise as she saw the pie coming and put up her hands to stop it. I pulled back the pie. “Hey! No fair. If you’re going to do that, arms behind your back.”

“Ok, sorry.” Still, she listened, putting her arms behind her back. I moved in again, holding the pie up to her face. Marley shut her eyes and scrunched up her cute nose. I held the pie up there, not moving. Slowly, Marley opened her eyes to see what was taking so long. And that’s when I let her have it.

Cream squirted onto her shoulders and hair. I gave the tin a few twists for good luck and dropped it onto the garbage pile. Marley’s face was covered in white cream and graham crust chunks. It was glorious, beautiful. And hilarious.

Her mouth opened in a gasp. Her body shook with silent laughter as pieces of crust and cream fell to the ground. I discreetly grabbed her second pie. “Oh wow. That was... wow,” Marley laughed. She reached up, wiping cream from her eyes and taking a crust piece out of her hair. She looked at me and grinned again. I gave her the second pie in the face. Marley squealed under the cream.

This time, the crust stuck on a little better. It broke into a few larger pieces. Marley’s shoulder shook with more laughter, causing the right half to fall onto her shirt. With one eye still covered, Marley looked up at me. It was too funny, I started laughing harder.

She slowly reached up and wiped cream and crust from her eyes, leaving a small pile of crust and cream on her hair. Two swathes of white cream lined each of her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with her red shirt. She grinned at me from under the cream and crust.sweetie? Before I make you a real sweetie?" and cocked back her hand.

Marley playfully flung cream towards me, some of it landing on my shirt. She reached up and took a piece of crust off the top of her head, giggling.

“I’m glad I tied my hair back,” Marley laughed. “That was… That was awesome.”

“You got a little something on your nose,” I said. Marley laughed at the absurdity of the statement. I leaned in and slowly wiped some graham crust off her nose. Marley’s wide grin disappeared and I could see exactly what she was thinking in her eyes. She held my gaze for a long second and then, next thing I knew, Marley had grabbed me and pulled me in for a long, deep kiss. I wasn’t even aware of getting in the tub with her as we were locked in embrace, our hands smearing cream everywhere. Marley reached for my pants and… you know what? The rest is personal.

Hockey Wagers: Part One

Writer's Notes : First of, I just want to warn everyone that there is only a little mess in this story. It mostly sets up the rest of the series I am planning. Secondly, I want to acknowledge the World Cup and Euro stories, for inspiring me to do my own take. Also, this is heavily inspired by a series I read some time ago by the incomparable SlapstickMatt, featuring a male protagonist making World Cup bets with his gorgeous German friend. I had those stories saved on an old computer, otherwise I would link to them. If someone does have them, please refrain from posting them until my series is done, because otherwise it'll look like shit in comparison. If it's not clear, that was a joke. Post/link away.

Finally, this series deals with the World Juniors Ice Hockey Championship. If you don't know what this is but want to know, I will post a brief description in a reply to this story.

Enjoy!

Christmas and holidays are a chance to spend quality, enjoyable time with loved ones. So it was in my case, at least until I met Kate.

We don't have some great love story, unless you call forging a longterm, happy relationship from an online dating site 'great'. But in the almost four years we've been together, we have packed in a lot. We bought a condo together, traveled North America, got lost in the backwoods of Ontario, survived three broken bones between the two of us, killed multiple pet fish (not on purpose) and flooded said condo by trying to manually repair a dishwasher. Life was good.

There's always been an underlying theme in our relationship; a theme of competition. Mostly- sometimes - friendly competition. Kate is a proud American, but came to work in Canada. I'm a proud Canadian. And we never missed an opportunity to score points over the other's homeland, especially when it came to sports.

Which brings us back to the trying holiday time. See, Kate could choose just about any sport and the USA would prevail, at least nine out of ten times, against Canada in it. Baseball, Soccer, Swimming, Basketball, Track, Gymnastics, etc. But Kate grew up in rural Minnesota, one of the few places in North America just as crazy about hockey as my hometown in the Canadian prairies. And every year, just after Christmas, our 'rivalry' was renewed as Canada and USA competed for the World Junior Hockey Championships. Writer's note: if you aren't familiar with the World Juniors, I will write a short explanation in the first reply.

I’ve always had a thing for pretty girls in hockey jerseys. And Kate was definitely pretty. In her late twenties, she was slight of frame, with long toned arms and legs. She had these big, expressive, pale green eyes. Pale skin and youthful features. Her hair was light blonde and fell a few inches past her shoulders, with a slight, natural wave to it. She was gorgeous, but it drove me nuts when she wore her American jersey around the condo. And she would, all tournament long, knowing how much it teased me.

Of course, things had gotten even worse the past year. Canada followed up an exciting gold medal in 2015 (and plenty of good natured teasing and bugging on my part) with a terrible showing in 2016, looking completely overmatched by everyone and falling to 6th. USA had scored a bronze, which Kate did not hesitate to remind me of. To compound matters, there was Anna.

Anna was an international Master’s student, attending the local university who Kate had met through work somehow. The two hit it off immediately. Maybe it was the fact neither were Canadians. I don’t know. All I know is they went from strangers to sisters in little over a year.

I liked Anna well enough. Even though Kate got home at least once a year, she was still homesick often. Anna was, aside from myself, her first real friend in Canada. And she was fun to have around. She called me ‘brother’ in her thick accent, was goofy fun, a little flirty and never took herself too serious. It didn’t hurt that Anna was also gorgeous, with thick, auburn hair, dark eyes and thick eyebrows. She had a full figure and the kind of beauty that seemed to scream ‘Eastern European’, for good reason. Anna was Russian.

And so, this year, coming off a terrible tournament to start 2016, I was going to watch the World Juniors with two girls intent on bugging and teasing me, cheering on my most hated rivals.

Kate and I had been out early on Boxing Day, hitting some sales. Well, she went shopping while I mostly read a new book on a bench in the middle of the mall. She watched part of USA’s opening game against Latvia, just catching the ending as USA slammed the door on the newcomers to the tournament, with a 6-1 score. She started to get out some food for this evening - the ‘main event’ - she said with a smirk as I headed out for a beer run. Canada was opening the tournament with an evening game against Russia. Huge first game for both teams. Canada-Russia, more than any other hockey rivalry, had the likelihood of getting a little heated. Kate’s smirk just confirmed what I had expected. She hadn’t mentioned anything about Anna since we saw her a few days ago, but she was definitely coming over for this game.

Sure enough, when I returned, Kate and Anna were both waiting for me. They were setting out a table full of food. Most of it was Christmas goodies - turkey leftovers, cookies, chocolates, popcorn, some cupcakes and drinks. Kate had changed out of her USA jersey into a plain red and blue T. Anna wore a red, white and blue Team Russia hoodie. Her hair was tied back in twin braids, threaded through with ribbons of the Russian flag, but leaving the front sides hanging free. She even had painted swipes in the Russian colours on her cheeks. Kate had tied her blonde hair back in pigtails, mimicking Anna’s style, with the same Russian ribbons.

 “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hey, Jon! Merry Christmas,” Anna greeted me.

“Hi, sweetie,” Kate’s said, coming around to give me a kiss.

I stopped her with a hand. “No. No. Not while you’re wearing that, tonight, in my own house.” Not surprisingly, both girls found this hilarious. “Why, Kate? Why? Haven’t I been a good boyfriend?”

“The best!”

“Come on! Russia’s in the same pool as both of us this year! They’re our rivals!”

“They aren’t mine. Not tonight, at least,” Kate answered with a playful grin.

“Haven’t you heard Trump?” Anna said around a mouthful of popcorn, “we’re friends now.”

“Besties,” Kate agreed, grabbing her friend’s arm and laughing.

“Well, I guess I will just have to settle for disappointing both of you tonight. Canada is taking this one.”

“Big talk, sixth place. Aren’t you worried about the Strome Streak?”

I gasped, a little melodramatic. “Who told you about that?”

The girls laughed again. Anna grabbed a cupcake and began to eat it, again talking around it. “You sound pretty confident.”

“I feel confident.”

She looked up at me, eyes twinkling. “How confident? Enough to make this game interesting?”

“You mean a wager?” I said, shaking my head. “Pass. I never bet money.”

“Maybe not money, then,” Anna said.

Kate leaned forward between us, a wicked look of interest on her face. “I like this.”

“What did you have in mind then?”

“Something embarrassing. Like you have to wear a Russia shirt to work.”

“That would suck for me, but it’s hardly fair. No one would bat an eye at you if you wore a Canada shirt.”

“Some might,” Anna protested. She took another bite of her cupcake, then her eyes got wide. She swallowed and looked at Kate. “How many of these do you have?”

Kate shrugged. “Half a dozen or so not out.”

Anna pointed at the cupcake tray. They weren’t huge, but were piled up with a swirl of either pale blue or white icing, decorated with sprinkles. The icing made the cupcakes almost twice as tall. Kate liked to imagine herself as some sort of great pastry chef. She wasn’t bad, but she had a tendency to make overly fancy desserts for things. Like these ‘Winter Cupcakes’ for one of my family gatherings. They didn’t really sell, so to speak. “I will wager you two cupcakes that Russia wins tonight.”

“They’re free. Have them,” I said. “Have a bunch.”

“No, no,” Anna said. “You misunderstand. Two cupcakes to the face of the loser.”

There was a pause, filled only by Kate’s low giggle. “Deal,” I said, sticking out my hand.

Anna wiped some icing on her hand, then shook mine with it. I made a face. She laughed. “To seal the pact. An icing pact.”

“Great.”

Kate raised her hand. “Normally, I’d be against my baked goods being used for such a purpose, but this is too funny to not allow.”

“Hold up. I thought you were part of Team Russia.”

Kate took a step back. “Well, yes, kind of. But I think it’s important, in this case, to have an unbiased observer. You know, to ensure the integrity of the wager.” She gave us that sweet smile she always used to get out of trouble, brushing some of her hair away from her face. I thought about pressing the point, but I didn’t want to risk it. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how much confidence I had in Team Canada tonight.

The game started off well. The teasing and banter continued well past puck drop. Anna especially seemed to enjoy my anxiousness. Just a few minutes in, Canada’s Tyson Jost scored. I leapt off my chair, punching the air. Kate laughed and Anna grunted. “A little much,” Kate said.

“It’s a big goal,” I said, miming pushing a cupcake into Anna’s face.

“Game’s not over,” the Russian replied, sticking out her tongue at me.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Russia would tie up the game. The first period ended with the score at 1 all, even though Canada had controlled the play early, Russia looked to have turned the tide a little.

“Still feeling nervous?” Anna asked. She was a picture of calm.

My heart was pounding. I couldn’t tell if I was more nervous about the game or the bet. “We are clearly getting more shots. We’re outclassing you.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you saw? I saw a Canadian attack unable to finish. The game’s not won on shots, but goals. When the Russians score next, it’ll quiet that crowd and the Canadians will falter. Just like they always do.”

“If you’re so sure, how about we raise the stakes. Double or nothing?”

“Or nothing?”

“Scratch that, just double. Four cupcakes.”

Anna smiled and I got the sinking feeling I had just been duped. “Deal.”

The second period started much the same way. Canada getting shots, but not finishing; the Russians looking dangerous in between. Over halfway into the period, Canada broke the deadlock with a nice passing play. Again, I celebrated. They added another before the second intermission, to lead 3-1.

Now it was Anna’s turn to look nervous. “There’s still plenty of time,” she muttered.

Canada added a fourth goal, before Russia finally got one back. “Still plenty of time!” Anna yelled it this time. “Let the comeback begin!” Canada did have a history of letting Russia back into games.

But this time, it was not to be. Canada would add a fifth goal a few minutes later to stem the Russian momentum. And although the Russians would score once more, the Canadians would lock this one down and it never seemed to be in danger. Anna watched the last minute through her hands. Final score, 5-3 Canada.

“To the kitchen!” Kate commanded, a big grin on her face. The two of us marched Anna away.

Kate had set up a chair in the middle of the kitchen, with some newspaper underneath. Nearby sat a serving tray with four heavily laden cupcakes. Anna took off her hoodie, revealing a tight, white T-shirt, then took her place, pouting at us. Kate whipped out her phone to record everything “for posterity’s sake”.

Anna looked up at me as I picked up the first cupcake. She brushed some of her side bangs away from her eyes, making them as big as she could. “New deal?” she asked, still pouting.

“Pass.”

“Please be kind.” Anna scrunched up her face.

I kind of was. I slowly pushed the cupcake into her pretty face, icing smearing and squishing as she whimpered underneath. Somewhere behind me, Kate laughed and cheered. I twisted and smeared the cupcake, ensuring as much as possible covered her features. I even tried to squish in the muffin part, but it fell away as soon as I released it, revealing Anna’s face covered in blue icing.

She blinked a few times, opening her eyes surrounded by icing. She gasped out a breath and wiped icing away from her face. Anna muttered something in Russian. She looked up at Kate and me. “Really?”

“Oh, really.”

I picked up a white cupcake this time, smashing it into her forehead and smearing it down. Again, Anna whimpered. I smeared it around, enjoying the sensation of creaming her. White icing hit her hair and fell onto her top. Anna wiped her eyes again, flicking icing onto the floor. Some landed on her jeans.

“Aw, my pants got messy,” she laughed. Her face was a mess of cupcake crumbs, icing and sprinkles.

I took the second blue cupcake and handed this one to Kate. “Would you care to do the honours?”

“Yes, please!” my girlfriend exclaimed, quickly handing me her phone.

“Wait! That’s not fair!” Anna yelled. Kate took a step towards her and smashed the cupcake into her face. Anna’s protests disappeared into a string of mumbled Russian curses. Kate laughed as she smeared her cupcake around. Watching my gorgeous Kate cream Anna was really turning me on. As soon as most of the icing was off, she reached down, pulled Anna’s collar forward, and dropped the muffin base into her top. Anna yelped in surprise. She said something again in Russian, but from the shocked look on her face, the meaning was clear.

“I knew Jon wouldn’t,” Kate said with a laugh and a shrug.

“At least there’s just one more,” Anna said with a sigh, picking cupcake out of her shirt.

I took the last cupcake. Anna stared at me, expectant. Her eyes were bright and, despite it all, she had a slight smile on her face. “Well?”

I flipped the cupcake over and smashed it down on top of her lovely auburn hair. Anna shrieked. Her face of anguish was a delight to watch as I ground it in; the white icing making a striking contrast to her darker hair. She whimpered as I finished, then reached up and tossed off the muffin paper. “I’m a mess.”

“That was awesome,” Kate said. She gave me a high five.

“Hilarious,” I agreed.

Anna picked cupcake from her face and wiped icing from her face. “Russia better not lose again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Russia plays against the United States in a few days.” Anna looked at Kate. “The tournament’s just getting started. I will have my revenge. But first, can I use your shower?”

Hockey Wagers: Part Two

Writer's Notes: I highly suggest reading Part I first. If you are curious, an explanation of the World Juniors is attached to that story. This is a part II of a planned 6 part series which I hope to finish before the 2018 World Juniors.

The World Juniors continued, with the next two days created many expected results, at least as far as we were concerned. Russia rebounded from their loss to Canada by blowing out Latvia and the Canadians easily defeated the Slovaks later that night. The next day saw the United States remain undefeated with a victory over Slovakia.

I was barely watching the game, sitting on the couch with Kate up beside me. As soon as the Americans appeared to have it in the bag, I lost interest and started to play Civilization 6 on my computer. So I didn’t really notice that Kate was giggling and texting a little more than usual, until the Americans scored another and she barely reacted.

“What are you doing?” I asked, craning my head to look over her shoulder.

“Just starting the smack talk with Anna,” she laughed. “Do we have any of those cupcakes left?”

“No.”

She made a disappointed noise and tapped on her phone. A minute or so later, her phone beeped. Kate barked a laugh and showed it to me.

It was a text from Anna. A picture of a large mop bucket sitting on the floor of her apartment, full of water. Underneath, Anna had written ‘You pick bucket. I pick a bucket. Loser gets it dumped over head. Cold. And you better be wearing US jersey”

Kate was watching me, expectantly, hunched on her knees. “So? What do you think?”

I really want to see this, I thought. What I said was, “Water’s not going to ruin your jersey.”

“I know that,” Kate rolled her eyes. “Do you think that’s a fair deal? I kind of wanted to get her more.”

“Any ideas?”

Kate shook her head and grabbed her phone back. “This’ll do.” She hurriedly punched in a text to Anna. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. I have some ideas for the New Year’s Eve game.”

The New Year’s Eve game was a bit of a tradition in the World Juniors. See, the Pools were decided by the seeds of the previous year. The winner was in the same pool as the fourth and fifth place teams, while second and third shared a pool with sixth and so. Still, for some odd reason, Canada and the United States were often in the same pool. Dumb luck, mostly, but in the past decade and a half, they seemed to share a pool almost every year. The schedule maker began to make it an annual matchup; final round robin game, on New Year’s Eve, was set between Canada and the USA. The game would happen again this year.

Kate was continuing. “I don’t make a lot of bets, so I asked Google for suggestions. After eliminating a bunch of stuff I wouldn’t want you doing in front of Anna-”

“It could just be between us.”

“Ha, no. After eliminating sex slave things, I had fewer suggestions, but decided on this one.” She flipped her phone around, displaying a picture of a pie. “Homemade Banana Cream Pie. In the face.”

The pie in the photo looked huge. Just a mountain of cream topping over a graham cracker crust. I swallowed, hard. “Are you sure?”

“You’d look so tasty in that,” Kate giggled. “We can make it the night before.”

“But you don’t like Banana Cream, so you’ll complain if you lose.”

“I won’t lose,” she said. “Okay, I do prefer Coconut Cream, that’s true. But I’m not going to lose, so-”

“So, we’ll make one of each and eat the one we don’t use.” A plan was beginning to form in my mind.

Kate seemed oblivious to my scheming. “Fine. I’ll throw a banana cream pie in your face and then eat a coconut cream. Sounds like a fantastic New Year’s.”

Anna was over the next day to watch the USA-Russia game. I opened the door for her, only to be almost hit in the face with a swinging black mop bucket. She waved it around like she had just won an award. “How do you like this? 10 quarts!”

“We use litres here,” I said.

“I know, but it was made in the US. Or at least, made for them or something. I got it at WalMart.”

“Did you go out and buy that just for today?”

“No, but I did wash it.”

Kate almost had gone shopping for a bucket, finding our condo to be surprisingly low on containers that rivaled Anna’s. Finally, she was able to borrow a large red bucket from our neighbours. It was around the same size as Anna’s. A bit wider, but shorter. It didn’t look like there was really any advantage. Today, Anna’s hair hung free over the shoulders of her Russian hockey jersey. Kate’s light hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. It looked good, contrasting with the deep blue of her jersey. Until, of course, I saw that hated American shield on the front. Anna wore a pair of tight black leggings underneath hers, while Kate had opted for fluffly pink pajama pants.

We sat down to watch the pregame show, snacking on popcorn and chips. Anna insisted on sitting with her bucket. The banter between the two started immediately. Was I this bad when Canada was involved? I hoped not. Only a few minutes before puck drop and the whole atmosphere changed with one soft question from Anna.

“So how confident are you?”

Kate paused. She fidgeted, moving up against me on the couch. “I’m pretty confident.” She didn’t sound it.

“Then let’s make this really interesting.” That mischievous, wicked glint appeared in Anna’s eyes. “We have two buckets, so let’s make sure we use them. If a team loses by two or more goals, the loser gets both buckets dumped over them. If the margin of victory is one goal, the second bucket gets dumped over both the winner and loser.”

“Then I could get wet no matter what!”

“Not if your team is as good as you claim,” Anna said. She could tell she had Kate.

“I’m going to enjoy dumping two buckets of water on you,” Kate said. Her words were brave, but her face said otherwise. Anna just laughed and the game started.

As with the Canada-Russia game, it didn’t take long for Anna’s confidence to get shaken. This time, it was the highly-touted American Clayton Keller who scored in the opening few minutes. Kate celebrated with a funky dance in the middle of the room. My girlfriend may not have same confidence to smack-talk before the game, but you could not shut her up after her team had done well. Her dance ended with her backing up right in front of Anna, leading to some goodnatured wrestling between the two on the couch. For me, it was more fun to watch than the actual game.

The two girls continued to sit with each other as the game continued, exchanging various smacks and grabs as an almost reverse of the action on the screen. The Russians pulled even and the first period ended in a tie.

“Pretty close game,” I said, my words thick with meaning. Both girls shot me a glare.

“We’re controlling the play,” Kate declared, just as Anna said, “We’re just getting warmed up.”

The second period started like the first. Another goal only a few minutes in by the Americans, this time on the powerplay. They would extend the lead a few minutes later. “That’s two!” Kate yelled.

“Game’s not over yet!” Anna returned.

Sure enough, Russia would claw back to within one by scoring right before the second intermission. They would still enter the third frame, down by one. On the girls’ instruction, I went to fill up both buckets with cold water in the bathroom. They stayed to bicker over the refereeing.

The third period started. The play went back and forth, but no one scored. Both girls moved off the couch and ended up crouched in front of the TV, as though their proximity would help their team pull it out. Anna seemed resigned to - and not bothered by - the fact she was bound to get wet. She was just hoping for the win now. Kate, on the other hand, urged the Americans to find that insurance marker that would leave her dry. Russia pulled their goalie in the dying minute, packing on the pressure but leaving their net open in the process. One good shot…

It was not to be. The buzzer rang. 3-2 the final.

“No!” Anna wailed.

“Yes but also no!” Kate echoed.

I cheered in my head.

After some more taunting and insults - I said they were like sisters - Kate and Anna finally started to march upstairs, with me trailing behind. Kate was smart this time. Instead of just using her phone, she had grabbed her camera and one of those little tripods that stick everywhere, then set it up in the bathroom, focusing on the tub.

“Let me guess, for ‘posterity’?” Anna asked with a sarcastic edge, lowering herself into the tub. “I’m not even sure what that means.”

“It means I’ll watch it later and laugh and laugh and laugh,” Kate answered with a smile.

“Don’t laugh too hard.” Anna settled herself in the bottom of the tub, sitting on her knees. She smoothed down her red Russian jersey. She motioned to me. “Kate, do you think we could maybe overpower Jon and force him in here instead?”

Kate looked back at me and laughed. “I doubt it. Besides, he’s armed.” I tapped the side of the bucket closest to me.

Kate rolled up the sleeves to her jersey and hefted her bucket. She grunted with the weight, clearly not expecting it to be quite so heavy. She raised it slowly in both hands, careful of the water, making sure to keep it as level as possible. Anna’s dark eyes watched her. She ran her hands through her hair, tucking it all behind her shoulders.

“Why does this keep happening to me?”

“Take it like a Russian,” I said. Anna stuck out her tongue at me. I just chuckled and pressed record on the camera.

Kate rested the bucket on the edge of the tub, shifting her grip to the sides and bottom, then raised it up above Anna’s head. Anna scrunched her shoulders, trying to keep an eye on the bucket but not waiting to look up at the same time. Her hands fidgeted in front of her.

“Russia will never beat the USA,” Kate said. “It was like a second Miracle on Ice.”

“Hardly. You- AHHHH!”

Anna screeched as cold water splashed over her head. She leaned forward to escape the deluge, but Kate followed, soaking her. Anna’s beautiful auburn hair turned a dark reddish-brown as it plastered to her face and sides of her head. Her arms waved uselessly at her sides. Kate almost had to stop pouring as she was laughing too hard at Anna’s noises.

She shifted the pour to Anna’s back, causing the other girl to screech again and arch her back. She got another faceful of water. Anna sputtered, leaning back down, face hidden again behind a soaking curtain of hair. Kate finished by shifting the fall of water onto Anna’s shoulders and then lap. Her victim had gone completely still, arms and shoulders shaking slightly. Finally, the bucket was empty. Kate shook out the last few drops on her friend and then retreated to the other side of the bathroom. She leaned up against a counter, laughing.

Anna’s hands came to face, parting her hair. She didn’t so much slick it back as flip it onto the top of her head. Anna was panting for breath. “That was so cold,” she said, trying, unsuccessfully, to hide a wide smile. “Uh. Wow.” She tried to catch her breath, smoothing down her now soaked jersey. She pulled at the front of the jersey that clung to her curves, accentuating them clearly. The sides still hung free from her arms, sodden and dripping. Anna rearranged herself into a seated position, showing off her smooth leggings that now shown with moisture, bouncing to combat the coldness.

“Wow,” Anna said when she had regained her composure, “I really wish we had won.” She gave a little giggle.

“On to part two,” I said, motioning to Kate.

She gave me a look. “No, that wasn’t… that wasn’t a serious bet… I don’t-”

“You better get in here,” Anna ordered, running a hand through her wet hair. She flicked some at Kate.

Kate stuck out her bottom lip. “We won,” she pouted. “I don’t see why I should get wet, too.” Still, despite her grumblings, Kate moved towards the tub. She pulled off her socks and then crouched in the tub beside Anna.

“You might wanna sit.”

“But it’s wet!” Kate wailed, unaware of the irony. Anna and I laughed. “Eugh. My pajama pants are getting wet.” Kate slowly lowered her dainty bum into the small puddle in the middle of the tub, making a face the whole way.

“That’s just the start, bestie,” Anna wrapped both her arms around Kate in a big wet hug. Kate whimpered.

I picked up the second bucket and approached them. They were sitting side by side, Anna’s arms around Kate. Anna, damp hair dangling beside her head, was watching fully this time, an expectant grin on her face. Kate was holding onto her friend, biting her bottom lip in nervous anticipation. Her blonde hair, nice and dry, right beside Anna’s soaking reddish brown. It was a big turn on.

I didn’t make them wait long. Kate yelped as the water hit her first, causing Anna to bark a laugh that was quickly swallowed up by water hitting her. The two squealed, almost in unison, and moved even closer together. Anna buried her face in Kate’s neck. Kate continued to gasp and shake, the water pushing her hair into her lowered face and out of her ponytail.

The bucket was empty far too soon. I stepped away to admire my handiwork. Kate was panting and gasping, shaking water from her hands. Anna, arms still wrapped around her friend, was shaking with laughter. Kate pushed her hair, now dark from the water, away from her fair and looked up me. Her green eyes were a mix of amusement and a promise for revenge. “You…” She didn’t finish, as Anna started laughing loudly and pulled her tighter. Kate gave her a playful push. “Get off of me.”

Anna allowed herself to slide back in the tub, laughing as went. She pushed back her wet hair and leaned back, extending her long, wet legs behind Kate’s back. “Well done, Jon. We’re even now.”

“Good to know.”

Kate stumbled to her feet. Like Anna, her jersey clung to her front and arms, but still dripped an epic amount of water everywhere. Her pajama pants clung to her legs, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kate flung more water off her hands and wrung out her ponytail. “Can you pass me a towel?”

“For your jersey?”

“It weighs a ton now,” she grimaced. Kate leaned over and pulled the jersey over her head, sending a sprinkle of water everywhere. Anna yelped. Kate tossed her sodden jersey on the side of the tub and straightened, revealing that she had been wearing a white and pink T-shirt underneath. It had turned see through, exposing every detail of the dark bra beneath it.

Anna laughed even harder at this. Kate glanced down, just realizing. She rolled her eyes at her friend. “It’s not like it’s some big secret. Jon. Towel.”

Instead, I whipped out my phone. “Smile.”

Kate, hands on her hips, gave me her best unamused look. “That better not leave your phone.”

Anna watched us and clapped her hands. “That was fun. So, I understand that on New Year’s Eve, you two have pies?”

Addie After Church

Addie After Church

I met Addie in my second year of university.  I had signed up for a first year Biology course with my buddy; we were going to use it as an elective.  We figured that we would get each other through the course.  First week of courses, and we discover that we'd been assigned to different rooms for our Lab section.  I was pissed off.  The class was his idea in the first place.  I had no real interest in Biology.  But then I walked into my lab session and saw Addie.

She was, in my estimation, clearly the best looking girl in the room.  She sat at a table, wearing a high school graduation sweater that was obviously a size too large.  Her short dark brown hair was tied back in a spiky ponytail, revealing some dark blue highlights.  Her large, dark blue eyes were intently studying the course outline.

I was deciding how close I should sit to her, in order to not appear a creeper, when the TA pulled aside.  "Assigned seating," he announced, barely even looking at me.  "Name?"

"Dan."

"First and last name.  Undergrads," he rolled his eyes.

"Dan Millegan."

"Seat 13."  He pointed vaguely in the direction of the room.  It didn't take me long to find my spot… right beside Addie.

"Hi," I said, trying to keep my voice low and cool.  "I'm Dan."

She smiled up at me.  A vision in a grad sweater.  "Addison MacKenzie.  Nice to meet you."

What followed was a wonderful semester of Biology.  Addie and I hit it off almost immediately and lab sessions flew by.  It quickly became the highlight of my week.  Labs were only one afternoon a week and, unfortunately, Addie was not in my lecture class.  I had to play it cool and slow, for two reasons.  One, I was pretty much incapable of moving quickly with a girl and two, I didn't want an awkward lab session for the rest of the semester.

It was hard, because I got to know Addie pretty well and I had a serious crush.  She was in her first year of university and loved science.  She was way smarter than me and much more studious.  To this day, I'm certain I pulled an A in Biology because of Addie's help and the fact that I wanted very much to impress her.  She had a great sense of humour, but couldn't tell a joke to save her life.  When she laughed at my jokes, her nose would wrinkle in an endearingly cute way.  She had a strong geeky side and loved Harry Potter, although she didn't play video games.  I learned that Addie was the youngest of four sisters and was close with all of them.  She didn't have a part time job, but volunteered a lot at her church, including teaching Sunday School to preschoolers.

Winter came, and with it, the semester break.  I figured it was now or never (not technically true, since there was a whole second semester of Bio).  The second last Lab before the break, I said we should go get a coffee afterwards.  Addie agreed.  I thought if she turned me down, it would be less embarrassing than during Lab time.

I didn't have anything to worry about.  Addie blushed and answered "What took you so long?"

We went out for our first date that Friday night.  It was a really nice night, just casual dinner and drinks, but there was this nervous energy that we just couldn't shake.  Addie admitted that while she did date in High School, she had never had what she considered "a serious relationship."  Neither had I really, but I was a second year university male.  I thought I was the shit.

My buddy (the same one that had got me into Biology) informed me that I should never schedule a second date for the next day, so I asked Addie if she was free on Sunday.  She said she was, after church.  So we made plans for me to pick her up from church for our second, and hopefully more successful, date.

Addie texted me that she was running a little late at church, cleaning up from Sunday School.  However, I was already on the way, so I thought I would be able to help.  Her church, one of those large, new non-denominational churches, seemed pretty empty went I got there.  There were a few people in the foyer.  I asked about Addie and an old lady sent me down a hallway.

I entered what the old lady had called ‘The Great Hall.'  It was a bit of false advertisement.  The Hall was a large room with high ceilings, complete with lazily turning fans.  The floor was simple tile.  A long window cut into one wall showed a large kitchen behind it.  A serving bar, about waist height, lined the bottom of the window.  Several more doors and exits left the Hall.  It was empty, but for two people.

Addie was on the ground near the kitchen, carefully ripping up garbage bags that had been taped down.  A large garbage can stood beside her.  The other occupant was a clearly pregnant woman, whose facial features made her look like a slightly older and mature Addie.  One hand was supporting the small of her back as she turned to me.

"Can I help you?"

Addie looked up and smiled.  "Dan!"  She stood up, taking a few steps towards me.  She didn't move past the other woman.  I hadn't been to church in years, so I'm not sure what I was expecting, but Addie had certainly outdressed me.  I was just wearing jeans and a T-Shirt under my parka.  Addie wore dark blue dress jeans, with an open long grey sweater over a light blue shirt.  Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, with long blue and dark brown side bangs hanging free.

God, she looked good.

Wait, am I allowed to think that in a church?  Is that a sin?

"So you're the infamous Dan, huh?" Addie's sister said, looking me up and down with a slow, appraising eye.  "I've heard a lot about you."

"Holly!  Be nice."

Holly gave the two of us a smirk.  "We were just finishing cleaning up.  Well, Addie was.  I'm not much use right now."  She patted her belly.

"You know, Holl," Addie said, "you could probably go.  Dan could help me clean up and then we could just leave from here."

"Yeah, I don't mind helping."

"Oh.  Nice smile and a gentleman.  Good start."  Holly smiled at her sister.  "Remember: think like me."  She gave me one last smile and sauntered out of the room.

The nervous tension returned between us.  Awkward silence.  "So…" I said lamely, my hands finding my pockets.  "What are you cleaning up from?"

"A pie fight."

My jaw dropped.  She did not look like she had just been in a pie fight.  And the thought of beautiful Addie covered in cream was getting me excited.  She giggled at my reaction and tossed back some of her hair.

"I wasn't a part of it," she said.  "It was a reward for the school age children.  Their teachers took part, but I didn't.  That's why I'm here cleaning.  They are all cleaning themselves."  Addie giggled at her lame joke.  "We're just cleaning up the drop clothes here.  Just rip them up and chuck them in the garbage."

I took off my parka and helped Addie with a few.  White cream was smeared over them a little, but it was less messy than I would have thought.  Addie claimed she had already cleaned up most of the really messy ones.  It wasn't long before the garbage can was full.  I lifted out the bag as she went looking for more bags.  Addie opened a side door.

"Oh no!"

I looked up to see what was wrong.  Addie was wheeling two kitchen trays out of the room.  They both had multiple levels and each level was stacked with cream pies.  I think my jaw dropped again.  But this time, Addie wore the same shocked expression.

"I think someone must have put these in the storage room and forgot about them," she said.  "What a waste."

"Are they shaving cream?"

"No, not with the kids."  Addie tasted a finger of cream.  "Doesn't really taste like anything."  She pushed the two trays over to the kitchen window.

"So we're just going to throw them out?"

"I guess so.  I don't think they're going to keep.  Unless you can think of something to do with them."

Wow.  Was she ever asking for it or what?

I picked up a pie in one hand, balancing it on my palm.  I held it, ready to throw, and looked at Addie.

"Oh no, Dan.  Don't get any ideas like that."

"Why not?  You said you weren't a part of the pie fight."

"By choice," she squealed, backing up.  Addie took two steps, finding herself backed against the bar below the kitchen window.  Addie was trapped.

"So you've never been pied before?"

"No."  Addie's blue eyes never left the pie in my hand.  "Have you?"

"No."  I smiled mischievously.  "I think you'd look cute with a pie in the face."

"Thanks, I think," she giggled.  "Now put it down."

"I'm just curious.  Why did you decide not to take part in the kid's pie fight?"

"Cause it was for the older kids.  Plus, I didn't want to get messy when I had a date later with a nice, sweet guy."

"That makes sense," I said, taking a finger of cream and tasting the pie myself.  "What if this nice, sweet guy were the one to get you messy?"

Addie bit her lower lip, nervous, looking unbelievably cute.  "That would be different then.  Can you let me know if you see him around?"  She laughed, a little too hard, at her own joke again.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to get your nice church clothes messy."  I put the pie down on the table beside her.

"Thanks, Dan."  Addie breathed a deep sigh of relief, then looked me up and down.  "You, however, aren't wearing church clothes."  She picked up the pie.  "So I don't have that problem."  And in one smooth motion, she pushed it into my face.

Everything went white and then dark.  The cool cream covered my face.  I could hear Addie laughing hysterically as she pulled the paper plate off.  There wasn't a lot of cream on the pies, so I could see out of one eye.  It was light and fluffy cream, easily falling away onto the ground and my shirt.  I was still in shock that Addie would actually do that.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Dan," she gasped.  "I had to."

"You pied me!"

"I know, but you… with the teasing…"  she searched for words.  "I'm sorry.  But it is hilarious."

I wiped some cream away from eyes.  "It's about to get to get more hilarious," I said with a smile.  I picked up a pie.

"Oh no," Addie gasped.  She was still backed against the serving bar of the kitchen.  On one side of her was the serving tray of pies.  She tried to scurry off in the other direction, but I stopped her with my free hand.  Addie looked around for help, and scooped up a pie herself.  "If you get me, you're going to get it again."

I motioned towards my face.  "I think that threat doesn't work so well at this point."  I raised my pie, threatening her.

"Ok, how about this," Addie said quickly.  "I pie myself.  And then we're even."

"Really?"

"Yup.  See?  All even."  She looked down at her pie, holding it in both hands.  With a giggle, Addie brought it slowly up to her face.  She laughed again, lowering it again.  There was a small dollop of cream on her nose.  Her nose crinkled with more laughter.

"Really?  That's even?"

"Yup, seems even to me."  She gave me an impish smile.

"This is more even."  With my free hand, I pushed the pie she was holding up and into her face.  Addie squeaked with surprise.  White cream shot out around the plate, into her hair and down onto her shirt.  She quickly pulled the plate off.  Addie's mouth was a wide O, her eyes dark spots in a face of cream.

She looked up at me.  Cream fell into one eye.  "You pied me!"

"No, technically you pied yourself."  I pushed the pie I was holding into her face.  "Now I've pied you."

Addie squealed.  She tossed the plate off her face.  White cream covered her laughing face.  Addie reached up and wiped her eyes, using all her fingers.  It cleaned around her blue eyes.  Two small piles of cream had formed on each of her shoulders and clumps hung from her hair.  

I didn't think I would find it so attractive.  I was definitely getting excited now, and I knew Addie could notice.

"So now you've been pied," I said.

"And so have you," she laughed, scooping some cream out of her bangs.  "And?"

"It's a lot more fun than I thought it would be."

Addie nodded, sending some cream to the ground.  "Yeah.  I might have taken part in the pie fight had I known."

"Well, now that we're even, we should probably get going."

Addie raised two cream covered eyebrows.  "Even?  How is this even?  I got pied twice and you only got pied once!"

"Yeah, but I got pied first, so it counts as two."

"Hmm…  I guess that's fair."  Addie shrugged at the pies, causing some cream to fall off her shoulders in the process.  "I'm not sure if I want to start a full pie fight?"

I laughed.  "Really?  Getting two pies in the face doesn't count as the start of a piefight?"

"Oh no, of course not."  She giggled.  "Now, three.  That's the real limit.  If I ever get three pies in the face, it's a sure thing a no holds barred pie fight is close behind.  But I know you wouldn't dare pie me again."

Really?  I'd be crazy not to take that bait.  So I picked up a pie.  "Have you really know me long enough to making that claim?"

Addie straightened, staring right at me with her challenging blue eyes.  "I'm pretty confident that you would never dream of hitting me with three pies in a row."

I let her have it.  Addie let out a squeak and tensed up, but otherwise stood still as I smushed the pie into her face and twisted it.  Cream squirted out the sides, creating a sort of halo effect before falling into her hair.  The contrast was gorgeous.

I dropped the tin and Addie opened her mouth with a gasp.  She tried to act shocked, but couldn't hide the smile or the giggle.  And was it just my imagination, or was Addie starting to breathe a little heavy?

"I cannot believe you did that," she gasped.  Addie dramatically wiped cream from eyes and flung it to the ground.  "You are in so much trouble."  I was not expecting to discover that she was so playful, but it was a very welcome discovery.  Addie turned to the tray of pies and picked one up, giggling.

"So this is the no holds barred pie fight?" I taunted her.  "Kind of weak."

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

With a playful giggle, Addie smashed the pie into my face.  She rubbed it around, before dropping the tin.  I stood still, enjoying the sound of her clear laughter at my expense.  I slowly cleared my eyes, just to see Addie approach with another pie.  This one she turned upside down and deposited on my head.  She followed this up with smearing another pie on my chest.  Ok, maybe she was done holding back.

Addie turned back to the tray and picked up two pies, one in each hand.  But she underestimated how quickly I had recovered.  I came up behind her, grabbing each other her wrists, lightly but firmly.  Addie immediately recognized what I was going to do.

"Oh, shit," she groaned.  I gently guided her hands up to her head, forcing Addie to give herself a pie sandwich.  She groaned again.  I rubbed the pies into her beautiful hair, then let go.  Addie slowly turned.  The pies sat at crazy angles in her dark hair, but her face was still clean(ish).  The look on her face was priceless.  "Wow.  This feels really-"

I never did learn what it felt like, cause I pushed another pie into her face and Addie's thought disappeared into giggles.  Cream fell onto her shoulders and over her sweater.  She wiped cream from her face and pushed the plates off her head.  Addie's whole head was covered in white cream.  It decorated her shirt and sweater but the best part was that Addie just didn't seem to care.

"Oh, it is so on now," she said, picking up a pie in each hand again.

"Bring it," I responded, grabbing two pies of my own.  We let each other have it, laughing the whole time.

Addie quickly turned back to the tray and I followed her.  I flipped a pie in her hands onto her chest.  She laughed and stumbled back, slipping on some cream or a plate on the ground.  Addie slipped backwards, towards me and I caught her easily.  She looked up at me, cream ringing her eyes and covering her face, and stopped laughing.  The humour was gone, replaced with desire and heat.  The next thing I knew, we were kissing.

My tongue sought hers.  My hands had a mind of their own, but Addie reciprocated, doing things that were definitely not appropriate in church. Somehow she ended up down on the buffet bar, with her legs wrapped around my waist.  I started to pull off her sweater and shirt and then -

"What in the Father's Name?"

We stopped and looked.  A pastor stood in the doorway, aghast.  Two cream covered people making out, pretty heavy, halfway in the church kitchen?  Fair question.

Addie looked horrified.  "Pastor Brad.  Uh, we were just… um…"

To his credit, the pastor actually smiled.  "I think I know what you were doing.  I was young once, too."  The smile disappeared and the stern glare returned.  "But I don't think I have to tell you how inappropriate this is in a church."

"Uh, no, sir."  Oddly enough, that was me answering.

"How about I finish up here.  You two kids go get cleaned up."

"Thanks, Pastor Brad."

"Just, Addison.  Be safe."

Addie took me by the hand and led me from the Hall.  I awkwardly cleared my throat.  "So, do you, maybe want to come over?"

"Sure," she said with a twinkle in her eye.  "Let's just stop at a grocery store first."