Page 124 of Penalty Shot

“Slide those fingers inside your shorts. Touch yourself. Are you wet?”

“So wet.”

“Show me. Show me how fuckable you are.” She takes her two fingers out, moisture making them glisten. Pre-cum beads at the head of my cock. I squeeze tighter, imagining myself slipping into her liquid heat.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asks.

“I’m gonna make you come till you scream my name. Are you ready, baby?”

She meowls in agreement, and I talk her through each step of my torturous fantasy. How I’d lick her cunt so thoroughly, she’d see stars. How I’d slip between her tits and push forward so every thrust forced her lips open. How deep I would grind. How I’d bend her over and fuck her rough and hard.

“Oh god, Randall. Are you there with me? I’m…I’m…” She detonates, eyes rolling back and mouth open in one long scream of my name.

“You’re so beautiful when you come. Now watch me, Elise. Watch how hard you make me. Do you see how much I wantyou? You’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect.” I let go, exploding over the bathroom counter, on my stomach, around my grip.

When my orgasm eases, I’m empty and in need of a shower.

“Get cleaned up while we’re on the call,” she says. “I want to watch you get ready for bed.”

I place the phone on the bathroom counter of the generic hotel room and pretend it’s normal to keep the shower door open and scrub myself while my girlfriend is watching from thousands of miles away. When I’m done, she’s half asleep. We say our goodnights and promise to call earlier tomorrow.

Lying in bed alone, it’s easy to focus on the cold sheets and generic wall art—signs that I’m far from a real home.

Instead, I shift my attention to Elise, who can rock my world no matter where she is.

Elise, who inspires me even in the midst of my frustration. In a way, long distance has only solidified our deep connection. We’ll get through this temporary separation. It’s temporary because no matter where my job is, my real home is wherever Elise is.

If that means spending every minute of each holiday and all of the summer months in Ohio, that’s what I’ll do.

Sure, we’ve got to figure shit out, like what time of day we can talk regularly. And whatever is going on with her teaching gig, I want to be the first to know. I resolve to give her more details about my teammates the next time she asks.

When sleep finally pulls me under, I drift into a garden. It smells flowery and sweet and earthy, like Elise after we spend a summer day outside. It smells like home.

The cab drops me off on the sidewalk of a tall, glass building that reflects back the moving clouds of a windy day. I whip out my phone.

Elise:Do you like the condo the team set up for you?

I know he was scheduled to move today. The trade was so drastic, even the team couldn’t prepare short-term housing. They put him in a hotel room this week, till the condo was readied.

Of course, Randall had other options; his brother’s or father’s guest bedrooms, for instance. Unfortunately, whatever strides he plans to make with his family now that he plays for the hometown team, he’ll take in baby steps.

So much was left unresolved after his mother died. Maybe the one upside of overhauling his life is finding an opportunity to mend his old one.

Randall:The condo has a view of Stanley Park.

Elise:That sounds like heaven.

Randall:It’s nice.

Elise:What does a view of Stanley Park look like?

Randall:Green trees, blue skies, snow peaked mountains, sparkling waters. So lame.

Elise:LOL Don’t forget the yachts.

Randall:Yachts of all colors and sizes. If I rent one next summer will you come visit?

Elise:Only if you rent the one named Sea-Nanigans.