The All-Canadian Hockey Mom’s Gangbang League

“Of course, your wife doesn’t have to participate, Mr. Biddle,” said Geoff Stanley. Geoff was the owner of Stanley Farm Machinery, the small town’s biggest business. He was a forceful and conservative gentleman in his 50’s. His wife, Janis smiled loyally as he continued. “But it would enhance your career and social position in Beaver Hill a great deal. Everyone would be grateful. Everyone who counts, that is.”

My own wife, Karina shifted in her seat and appeared uncomfortable. However, I noticed that she hadn’t dismissed Geoff’s outrageous suggestion out of hand, nor had she gotten up to leave. Janis Stanley reached out and touched Karina’s arm.

“And it would be very satisfying to know that you have personally done your little bit to stop the scourge of young male adult drug abuse and criminality in our small town,” Janis smiled.

Karina nodded hesitantly. “And how often would this, err “event” take place?” she inquired.

“Well, that all depends,” Geoff said. “If the Beaver Hill Beavers run the table and go 9-0, well then you’d be totally off the hook.”

“And Beaver Hill’s got a pretty darn good hockey team this year. At least according to Geoff, who’s the expert.” Janis added encouragingly. “Julie-Anne Cordell on the other hand, now SHE’S got her hands full.”

“Well, maybe not her HANDS,” her husband quipped. Janis elbowed him playfully.

“Julie-Anne represents Maple Sap Valley,” Janis explained. “They’re always bottom of the table. Julie- Anne will be walking pretty funny by the end of the season, I would think.”

“Now think about it seriously, you two,” Geoff admonished. “And remember: If you accept, there are certain rules that affect Harvey too.”

My wife and I exchanged glances and got up to leave. Geoff picked up the intercom and one of his office flunkies hurried in with our coats. We got dressed and walked out and across the parking lot to my Ford. We had only moved to Beaver Hill 6 months before. I had been offered a job as a senior loans office at the local bank at a very decent increase in salary over my old job in Toronto and Karina was looking for part-time employment while taking care of our two children, Darren (10 years) and Samantha (8).

While living in a small town was something of a culture shock after life in a major city, we had come to appreciate the fresh air, low prices and leisurely pace. And of course, my uptick in salary was pretty welcome as well. Then one day Mike Tobin, my branch manager had suggested that he could tack on an extra ten thousand dollar bonus at Christmas if Karina and I went to see the Stanleys about some “community work”.

“We don’t want any big city social problems coming to our nice, little town,” he said. “Some of the locally prominent families started a junior men’s hockey league to keep our future leaders off the streets and out of trouble. And there’s a special incentive program to ensure those young fellows stay committed to the league. I think your wife would be perfect.”

“You know, honey, I’m still not sure about all this,” Karina sighed as we got into the Ford. “And the fact that it would all happen in the locker room right after a game seems a little crude and indecent.”

I thought back to the rest of the meeting we had just had with Geoff Stanley.

“I’ll cut right to the chase,” he’d said as he sat us down. “When we started our young men’s hockey league back in the ’60’s, we had more than a little difficulty keeping the players interested. Back then, it was all about being a hippie, doing drugs and playing rock music. Some of the fellows were even talking about going to art college in Toronto and becoming graphic designers. Imagine that! So we had to come up with an effective, real world solution. And by jingo, we did!”

“Of course, it was Geoff’s dad who was in charge back then,” Janis added. “Geoff Senior.” She pointed to a portrait photo of a gray-haired curmudgeon with a stony jaw, clipped military moustache and a cold “none of your bullshit!” glare.

“Dad licked the damn Germans in Normandy and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let a bunch of guitar-playing layabouts ruin Canada,” Geoff snorted. “He asked himself what do young guys like even more than smoking drugs and lazing around doing nothing?”

Karina and I shared a puzzled glance. Geoff answered his own rhetorical question.

“Pussy!” he roared. “Pussy!”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that rude word, dear,” Janis pleaded.

Geoff forged right ahead. “Dad discovered that if we offered the players sex with an attractive older woman each time they won a hockey match, he wouldn’t lack for committed players. And indeed, he rapidly had a waiting list of applicants for each of our ten teams. And that’s where your wife comes into the picture.”

Janis smiled reassuringly at Karina. “The league supplies the condoms and wet wipes, dear. And a generous supply of sexual lubricant. And we’re very, very discreet.”

I turned the ignition in the Ford and eased the car out of the Stanley parking lot. It was easy to understand why Geoff Stanley had made his unusual proposal. Karina is a stunning blonde, the sort of tanned, tight, toned MILF that horny young dudes dream of nailing. She’s been an avid fitness and yoga buff since college and the fact that she had recently enhanced her breasts to a firm, well-projected 36DD made her all the more mouth- watering.

“Harvey, we need all the help we can get in our new town,” she mused, “and that ten thousand dollars would come in handy for a RESP for the kids. Wisely invested, it would practically pay their way through university.”

“But what about me?” I asked. “Geoff Stanley’s rules are very specific that I can’t have sex with you during hockey season.”

“We might have to take that in stride, I guess,” Karina said. “After all, Mr. Stanley has a point. The less sex I get from you, the more ready I’ll be for my community work with the hockey league.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. In fact, Karina had seemed less and less interested in having sex with me since Samantha’s birth. Geoff Stanley’s rule would simply make it official and less negotiable.

“Harvey,” Karina said, “let’s call Mr. Stanley as soon as we get home and sign me up. It seems the right thing to do. After all, when my dad once started a new job, he and Mom had to learn to play bridge to please his boss. This is pretty much the same thing, isn’t it?”

I shrugged and nodded, resigned to five months of no sex with my attractive wife.

***

Karina’s decision quickly produced tangible results. When I went into work at the bank the next day, I had a brand new desk and chair, both antique and both very expensive, sitting in my office. And Mike Tobin came in to congratulate me with a wink.

“I predict great things for you, Biddle!” he proclaimed. “And for your lovely wife too, of course!”

As I settled down for a morning of reviewing car loan applications, Karina rang. “Geoff Stanley just phoned,” she announced excitedly. “He’s invited us both to come and see the opening game of the season for the youth hockey league.”

“I thought that wasn’t till Friday.” I said puzzled.

“That’s Beaver Hill’s opening game,” Karina explained. “Tonight’s game is between Maple Sap Valley and Pine Knob Lake. Mr. Stanley told me that his wife would introduce us to the couples who represent those teams: the Cordells and the MacDillons.” She hesitated a second, then continued. “He said that we can stop by the winning team’s locker room afterwards to see the post- game celebration.”

I caught my breath. I hadn’t quite yet fully focused on the fact that a woman quite possibly my own gorgeous, blonde wife would be semi-publicly group-fucked after every game. Now it seemed we were being invited as spectators at exactly that.

“Do we really want to do that, honey?” I asked.

“I know it will be a little unusual,” Karina said. “But it’s probably just as well to learn the ins and outs of what I might have to do ahead of time. And Janis Stanley will be there to offer us some guidance and moral support, if we need it.”

I reluctantly agreed. There seemed to be no option.

Karina continued. “We have to be at the Pine Knob rink at seven sharp,” she said. “Why don’t you come home a little early from work?”

***

Mike Tobin was more than willing to let me book off early, although I was uncomfortable with the smug leer he gave me as I packed up my briefcase to leave. When I got home, Karina greeted me at the front door in a terrycloth robe.

“I’ve parked Darren and Samantha with a babysitter for the evening,” she explained. “Otherwise they might be a little too curious.”

Karina let the robe slide down her bare shoulders and shrugged it to the floor to reveal her big Barbie Doll tits and furry, full blonde bush. I made an impulsive grab at her ass.

“Uh-uh,” she scolded. “I promised the Stanleys that you wouldn’t be getting any for the next few months. You’ll just have to get used to seeing me naked and not doing anything about it.”

“Honey,” I begged, “just this once! Please! My dick’s the size of a telephone pole!”

“A telephone pole in Midget-land?” Karina laughed. In fact, my penis is well below average size for my height of 5’5″. This wasn’t the first time that Karina had been less than impressed. “Oh,” she added, “Janis Stanley sent me a package. It’s lying on the kitchen counter.”

I spotted three tiny thongs lying among a tatter of wrapping paper. “Could you hand me one, please?” Karina asked.

I gave her one of the slinky garments. All three were identical, black with yellow trim and the Beaver Hill Beavers logo on the front. She stepped into the panty and pulled it all way up to her cleft. The thong was so tight and small that is sank a little into her vulvar groove and her pubic hair fluffed out around it at the sides. Without my even noticing, my hand had dropped to the front of my pants and started to pump and squeeze at my erection.

“Please stop doing that, Harvey,” Karina said.

I self-consciously pulled my hand away. Karina adjusted the thong, pulling it even more tautly into her furry cunt.

“But why the panties?” I asked.

“It’s one of the rules,” Karina explained. “All the wives wear them to the games. It demonstrates team spirit.”

She selected a black lace bra and fastened it around her chest. Tight blue jeans and a stretchy black top followed. Karina primped her hair a little in the mirror and smiled.

“I need you to help me with my coat, Harvey,” she said. “We don’t want to be late for opening game.”

***

“Karina and Harvey, this is Julie-Ann Cordell and her husband, Timothy,” Janis Stanley announced. The Pine Knob arena was about half-full with spectators. A few of them looked meaningfully in our direction and smirked. While the Stanleys had promised discretion, it was evident that the unusual “prize” awarded to the winning team was an open secret in the community.

Julie-Ann Cordell was a stunning woman in her early thirties with shoulder-length dark brunette hair. She was about 5’4″ with a set of breast as firm and full as Karina’s and just as fake, I suspected. She was wearing a white cotton knit top tucked into a knee- length, tight leather skirt.

“So pleased to meet both of you,” she smiled.

“I hope you’re ready for a brand new season,” Janis said. “Maple Sap Valley always seems to lose far more games than it wins. And we know what that means.”

Julie-Ann winced and blushed. Her husband smiled blandly. He was a slightly-built man with a receding hairline and a weak, wispy attempt at a goatee. A prominent little paunch jutted out in front of his skinny hips.

“I’m a free-lance journalist,” he volunteered. “I’m pretty uncompromising in my views. I’m against almost everything.”

Julie-Ann ignored him. She and Karina were already making girl-talk about ear-rings and nail polish.

“Hi, everyone!” A tall woman in her late twenties with light brown hair, blue eyes and cute freckles leaned in on us. She was slender with a small, high rack and a strikingly pretty face. A pudgy, older guy with a patchy, grey mullet tagged along behind her.

“Oh my goodness!” Janis Stanley cried. “It’s the MacDillons Larissa and Chip. They signed up to represent Pine Knob Lake towards the end of last season when Melissa Carpenter had to quit because of a yeast infection.”

Larissa and Julie-Ann hugged. “I wore a skirt like you suggested,” Larissa said. She turned towards Karina. “Skirts are a lot easier to get on and off after the game. In the locker room, I mean.” A tartan wool miniskirt barely covered Larissa’s groin and ass. She twirled to show off her elegant legs in black sheer pantyhose.

I noticed Timothy Cordell staring intently at Larissa’s little skirt. His hands were in his pants pockets and he seemed to be covertly playing with his dick. Julie-Ann glanced sharply at him and he took his hands out of his pants and folded them on his chest.

“I have hot chocolate for everyone,” Janis Stanley said. “I brought an extra thermos because Karina and Harvey came along. And there are hot dogs and sticky buns at the concession stand at the other end of the rink.”

***

By the third period, Pine Knob Lake was already leading 3-1. Julie-Ann looked resigned and Larissa MacDillon looked relieved and a little guilty. Timothy Cordell on the other hand almost bounced with barely restrained anticipation. I caught Janis Stanley’s eye and she leaned in to whisper.

“He likes to watch,” she said.

“His wife getting, err.. ?” I asked.

“More hot chocolate, Harvey?” Janis asked. She poured without waiting for my assent. “I’m sure you’ll like watching too,” she predicted.

I shook my head. “I’m not that type, Ms. Stanley,” I said.

Janis Stanley appeared skeptical. “I’ve been doing this for fifteen years, Harvey,” she said sharply, “and I know a wanker when I see one. You’re a wanker. Maybe not quite as bad as Timothy Cordell, but getting there.”

“At least your make-up won’t get ruined,” Larissa MacDillon’s voice cut into our private conversation. She was speaking to Julie-Ann Cordell.

Julie-Ann grimaced and turned to Karina. “If they get a shut-out, the winning team’s goalie gets to shoot in your face. Sometimes it even gets in your hair. Yuck!”

“Someone should explain the rules to the Biddles,” said Larissa MacDillon.

“Well, the rules are pretty simple,” Janis Stanley said. “The winning team’s captain always goes first.”

“Ouch!” said Larissa. Karina raised her eyebrows. “The captain always seems to have the biggest you-know-what,” Larissa explained.

“And the rest of the winning team goes in order, depending on the number on their hockey sweaters,” Janis Stanley explained. “The goal scorers don’t wear condoms.”

“Because they got one past the goalie!” Larissa and Julie-Ann chorused.

“Just be thankful there are only three goals on the scoreboard, Julie-Ann,” Janis said. “Last season there was a 15-3 blowout and you got pretty wet and sticky after that one.”

“I had to spend five minutes wiping Julie-Ann off afterwards,” Timothy Cordell offered. He tried to look serious and outraged, but ended up giving a little snicker. I also noticed that his hands had slipped back into his pants.

The last minute of play warning was given. I saw the Maple Sap Valley goalie dash to the bench for a sixth attacker. There was a shot into the Pine Knob end of the rink. It was followed by a badly coordinated and inept flurry of activity as Maple Sap Valley rushed the Pine Knob zone. The puck was flipped back out to centre-ice. Maple Sap Valley tried another shoot and rush and time ran out. Janis Stanley looked meaningfully over.

“Looks like you’re up to bat, Julie-Ann,” she said.

Julie-Ann stood up and smoothed down her tight leather skirt. “Well, duty calls,” she said.

Timothy Cordell attempted to look infuriated. “When this is all over, I intend to write and angry and passionate article denouncing the way the rich force us decent, ordinary people to humiliate ourselves,” he whispered to me. His hand was clearly wanking his penis inside his pants as we walked around the rink towards the winning team’s dressing room.

***

There was a loud hooting and cheering from inside the Pine Knob Lake Lakers’ dressing room as we walked down the hallway to the door. Larissa MacDillon paused and touched Julie-Ann Cordell’s arm.

“Good luck, Julie-Ann,” she smiled encouragingly.

“Thanks, Larissa,” Julie-Ann answered. “Maybe we can catch up on the gossip over a latte next week.”

“I’d love to,” Larissa said. “Monday I’ll be having some of the girls over. Chip will be working on his thesis.”

As the MacDillons turned to leave, the sound from the Lakers’ locker room became more intense and rhythmic and turned into a kind of crude chant. Karina and I strained to hear what was being said. “Oh my god!” she said. “I think I can make out what the players are shouting. They’re chanting “pussy, pussy, pussy!” over and over and over.”

“Oh, they always do that,” Janis Stanley said. “It’s a local tradition. They’re just being boisterous. But perhaps it’s best not to keep them waiting.” She knocked on the locker room door. It swung open a few inches and Mike Tobin’s face appeared. “Coach Tobin,” Janis asked, “is it okay for us to come in?”

Mike smiled at Karina and then glanced briefly over at me. “Harvey,” he said, “glad you and your lovely wife actually made it over for our opening game.” He turned to Janis Stanley. “You folks come right on in. And Julie-Ann, it’s always a pleasure. The players have been looking forward to meeting you again a great deal.”

Karina looked over at Janis Stanley. “Does Coach Tobin actually, err. as well?” she asked.

“Oh my goodness, no!” Janis replied. “It’s just the players. Mike Tobin hasn’t been a player in the hockey league for over twenty years.”

We pushed through the door into the Pine Lake locker room. As Julie-Ann Cordell entered, there was a grunting cheer which echoed around the little space. About twenty young men were lined up wearing only their hockey sweaters. Their cocks stuck out aggressively above their muscular thighs like purple-veined moon rockets.

Some of the players were stroking and squeezing their dicks attentively, while others let them swing and wag unhandled. They all appeared to be in their very late teens or early twenties and all were hard and slender and pulsating with barely controlled post-adolescent male lust.

Julie-Ann walked over to the far end of the locker-room where three or four benches had been parked side by side and covered with several layers of towel. A plastic ice bucket full of packaged condoms sat next to a jumbo size box of wet wipes and a massive squirt bottle of strawberry flavoured lube. She kicked off her boots and reached back to unzip her tight leather skirt.

“Now, guys,” said Coach Tobin, “let’s hear it for the Pine Knob Lake Lakers!”

“Pine Knob Lake! Pine Knob Lake! Pine Knob Lake!” chanted the players. Julie-Ann dropped her skirt and pulled her tight sweater over her thick dark hair. She struggled with the stretchy sleeves for a few seconds, her full breasts pushing out at her beige lace bra. Then she fought free of the top and unhooked the bra to show her firm, blunt-nippled DD-cup tits.

“Pine Knob Lake! Pine Knob Lake!” Less than half of the players were chanting now. The rest were staring at Julie-Ann Cordell and almost all of them were touching and pulling their dicks. She peeled down her pantyhose and pulled at a tiny blue and orange thong.

“We sell the panties afterwards to raise money for charity,” Janis Stanley whispered.

“Really? I hadn’t known that,” Karina responded. Her voice was slightly hoarse. I saw her glance down the line of thick, hard cocks and then hastily look away and focus nervously on a patch of ceiling.

Julie-Ann kicked free of her nylons and knelt on the benches, her ass shoved out towards the line of men and her thighs apart, exposing her shaved pudendum with its thin pink inner line and tiny moist convulvular vortex.

“That’s the team captain, Clark MacHusky,” Janis Stanley indicated the brawny, crew-cut jock at the head of the line of young men. A snake tattoo slithered across his taut abdominal muscles and shaved pubis to flicker its tongue at the thick trunk of a throbbing cock at least ten inches long.

“Clarke is one of our most successful reclamation projects. Three years ago, he was arrested smoking hashish and spray painting graffiti on the outside walls of our local Wal-Mart. He’s a good example of what our hockey league can accomplish, given time and dedicated volunteers.”

MacHusky strode across the locker room and positioned himself directly behind Julie-Ann Cordell’s vulnerable cunt, his thighs slightly spread apart and his ass muscles clenched. He tore open a condom package and pulled out the grey rubber oyster inside.

“We always stock up on Magnums,” Janis Stanley observed. “Most of our players are well above average in size.”

Even a Magnum struggled to encompass Clark MacHusky’s massive and bulbous dick-head and the ample circumference of his shaft. He grimaced as he stretched the condom around his big cock and pulled the rubber down his length. The elastic-y sheath snapped tight as he let it go, his phallus still only partly covered.

MacHusky squirted a massive glob of strawberry lube onto his hand and then slathered it abundantly along the length of his cock. Then with one fluid motion, he half- stepped forward and thrust his member into Julie-Ann Cordell’s exposed womanhood. The force of his penetration pushed her hips and ass two or three inches into the air. Julie-Ann stifled a little shriek.

“Is she going to be okay?” Karina asked.

Janis Stanley shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve seen Julie- Ann take far bigger than that,” she said. “I think she’ll do just fine. You’ll see what I mean.”

Julie-Ann started to gasp and sigh in rhythm with MacHusky’s forceful pounding, pushing back a little with her hips each time. His lips curled back over his teeth and he grunted and gasped as he fucked her. MacHusky grabbed and lifted Julie-Ann’s hips and pulled her crotch back against his groin for one final, deep convulsive thrust as he shot his load into the Magnum.

“That’s good work, Pine Knob Lake!” Mike Tobin cheered. MacHusky withdrew from Julie-Ann’s interior, his huge dick already softening inside the glistening wet condom. Another man stepped forward. He had “surfer dude” good looks with shoulder length blond hair and a trimmed beard.

“That’s Joe Kimber,” Janis Stanley advised us. “He won the league’s best defence man award last year.”

Karina tugged on a condom and inserted his big cock into Julie-Ann’s vagina. As he pumped, she began to gasp and sigh again. I noticed that her right hand had slid back between her legs and had started to squeeze and stroke Joe Kimber’s hairy balls.

Timothy Cordell stared at his wife’s sexual encounter, his hands clearly playing pocket pool inside his pants. “You folks don’t mind if I start masturbating, do you?” he said to no one in particular. To my astonishment, Timothy unzipped his pants and produced a tiny penis, about three inches long. He started to pump it with two fingers of his right hand while watching his well-fucked wife.

Janis Stanley looked over at Karina with an “I told you so” raise of her eyebrows. Karina blushed and glanced away. After a few seconds, Timothy Cordell shot a few tiny drops of thin, weak, clear cum over the floor a foot or so in front of him.

“Holy shit!” he groaned. “That was intense!” He wiped his damp fingers off against his shirt, leaving a wet, grey streak.

Joe Kimber had put his left leg up on the bench to get more leverage and was fucking hard now. His head was thrown back and he was making soft hooting noises as he fought to shoot his load. Below him, Julie-Ann was squeezing his balls and grinding back her hips. Suddenly, Joe Kimber screamed and inhaled, contracting his muscular gut in a sharp orgasmic spasm.

“Way to go, Joey!” one of the line of players shouted. There was a scattering of cheers from the others as Kimber pulled his cock out.

“Thanks, guys!” Kimber smiled. “Oh man! Didn’t think I’d get there that time!”

A hard-body, young Black guy stepped forward. He had a shaven skull and pierced nipples. As he took his position behind Julie-Ann Cordell, he lubed up his thick erection without first rolling on a sheath.

“That’s Jamal Nilkins,” Janis Stanley said. “He’s one of the goal scorers, so he doesn’t use a condom.”

“I just hope my lovely wife took her birth control this morning,” Timothy Cordell snickered. He glanced around to see if anyone else was laughing, his tiny dick still hanging limply out his fly.

Jamal Nilkins penetrated Julie-Ann and started to thrust slowly in and out of her. She began to breathe heavily and moan. I noticed that her eyes were now wide open and looking into the big locker room mirror to watch Jamal Nilkins mount and take her. His eyes met hers in the mirror and they locked stares as he fucked her harder and deeper. Julie-Ann’s fingers circled and rubbed her clit in cadence to his thrusts.

Nilkins climaxed with a groan and stepped back. One final after shot of semen exploded from his cock, soaking her ass in a copious glaze. The rest of Jamal Nilkins’ load began to trickle slowly out of Julie-Ann Cordell’s pussy in a thick, slow crme.

“Harvey, do you have an erection?” Karina was studying the bulge in the front of my pants. There was little I could say to deny it. “Janis Stanley was dead right,” Karina added. “You ARE a wanker.”

“Go for it, buddy!” Timothy Cordell applauded. “I’m about ready for my second shot. Well, actually my third. I already came once in my shorts walking over here.”

Karina and Janis Stanley exchanged knowing glances. I hesitated a few seconds and then slowly unzipped the fly of my pants.

Another guy had positioned himself behind Julie-Ann’s ass and was pulling on a sheath. He was baby-faced and not as muscular as the others and appeared to be only about eighteen years old.

Karina whispered to Janis Stanley “I don’t even think he needs lube.”

“Not after the lube job Jamal Nilkins gave her,” Janis replied. Both women watched intently as the baby-faced young guy penetrated Julie-Ann and started to grind and thrust. In fact, neither seemed to notice as I took out my own small, rigid dick.

“I don’t think she can last more than two more guys before she gets herself off,” Karina observed.

“Most of our wives orgasm two or three times each occasion they work,” Janis replied. “Julie-Ann Cordell is especially sensitive. If memory serves, she came at least four times when Maple Sap Valley lost to the Foam Creek Badgers.”

The young guy was already pounding hard and moaning and appeared more than ready to cum. Underneath him, Julie- Ann was pushing back harder than before and gasping hoarsely. Suddenly, she screamed and bucked. It only took another instant before the teenaged guy moaned and bit his lip, his cheeks flushed and crimson. He pulled out and cradled his spent and aching dick with both hands. A red-haired man with a shaggy beard slapped the youngster on the back and took his place.

“Are they going to give her a few minutes to, err rest?” Karina asked Janis Stanley. “I’m sure she’s quite, err. exhausted.”

“Heavens, no!” Janis Stanley replied. “There’s still quite a lot of work for her to do. Although I suppose it is a shame that Red Angus MacPherson is the next man up. MacPherson has a genital piercing called a Prince Albert. That’s always a little more stimulating for a woman, even when she is as you say “exhausted” ”

MacPherson forced a condom tightly over the metal stud in his dick-head and entered Julie-Ann Cordell. She yelped and squirmed as he penetrated deep inside her, but adjusted quickly to the rhythm of his thrusts.

Timothy Cordell forced himself to look away from his wife. “Buddy?!” he addressed me, “Did you just shoot?! You nailed my pants leg!”

Again, there was little I could say in my own defence.

***

“How are you doing, Julie-Ann?” Karina asked. It was nippy in the evening winter air outside the arena.

Julie-Ann smiled sheepishly. “A little sore, I guess,” she said.

Janis Stanley smiled reassuringly. “A nice warm cup of cocoa and a Timmy’s donut should make you good as new. You did very well in there tonight.”

“Thanks, Janis,” Julie-Ann said.

“I’m pretty sore as well,” Timothy Cordell added. “But I guess I’m not going to get any sympathy for my problems.”

***

There was an awkward silence as I drove Karina home. I kept our Ford at my accustomed 2.5 kilometres below the posted speed limit as we travelled down the stretch of highway and over the bridge north of Foam Creek and headed east past Maple Sap Valley and south towards Big Dingle. As the minutes passed, I wracked my brains. I had a lot on my mind, but just how to say it eluded me. Karina appeared lost in her own thoughts, her face silent and withdrawn. Just before the 7-11 outside Beaver Hill, I pulled the Ford over onto the shoulder and took a deep breath.

“Karina,” I began, “I know that it’s important to serve the community. And the extra money that Mike Tobin promised us as a Xmas bonus, well that’s pretty important too. And I know that getting ahead and doing well in our new town is a key goal in our lives as it should be. But there’s something that might be even more important and that’s our Dignity.

“I realize that perhaps this is not the best time for me to talk about Dignity, as I masturbated while watching Julie-Ann Cordell being mounted by the entire Pine Knob Lake hockey team and I ejaculated on Timothy Cordell’s pants, but I guess I have to take the bull by the horn or something like that regardless of the circumstances.”

Karina was looking at me now, intently and quietly, her eyes locked on mine. I continued,

“So what I mean to say is: Perhaps we should phone Geoff Stanley and tell him that we respectfully decline the opportunity that he has so thoughtfully extended to you, err, us and that he will simply have to find someone else to sexually satisfy the players in the hockey league in their locker rooms after games.”

Karina reached out to take my hand in hers. She squeezed it gently and her eyes clouded with tears. She smiled a sweet, wistful half-smile and then blinked her eyes clear.

“Harvey,” she said softly, “what you’ve just said.” she sighed deeply and then started afresh. “Harvey, what you’ve just said is perhaps the most selfish, narrow- minded thing that I have ever heard anyone say.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. “Two hours ago,” she continued, “I got a text message from Judge Sneeble himself.” She showed me the phone. “Judge Sneeble told me that Beaver Hill is about to be overwhelmed by a massive crime wave and an illicit drug epidemic of major proportions. It’s up to us socially responsible people to do what we can to uphold Canadian values in these challenging times of crisis.”

She withdrew her hand. “Harvey,” she added, “we’ll just have to do our best, me by sexually pleasing the players in the junior men’s hockey league and you by watching me and masturbating.”

As Karina finished speaking, a car rushed past us, clearly exceeding the speed limit and one of its occupants tossed out a bag of litter. Karina was absolutely right. Beaver Hill was threatened with crime everywhere we looked. It was up to the law-abiding individual to take a stand even if that stand was actually on all fours.

“Harvey, it’s getting late,” Karina said. “We should go home.”

“Sure, honey,” I replied. I took my foot off the brake pedal and eased the Ford back onto the highway.

“And Harvey,” Karina added, “I think it’s best you sleep in the guest bedroom from now on. What happened in the locker room tonight. You have so little self- restraint.”

I nodded. Once again, there was very little I could say.