Donna and the Rugby Match

Donna and I wandered down to the pub one evening, bought a couple of glasses of wine and sat talking at our usual table by the window. I noticed Donna’s eyes widen as she looked over my shoulder so I turned to see what had aroused her interest. Standing at the bar was a very tall, extremely fit looking man who was talking to Nellie.

‘Notice anything, College? Does your razor sharp brain observe something exceeding unusual?’ I muttered something about him being tall and she said, ‘That is clearly true but hardly an observation of high intellect. Does it not pique your interest that the said Longfellow is actually talking to Nellie and not at her bristols?’ Now she had pointed it out I did notice and marvelled again at her perception. At that moment, Nellie invited us over to join them and as we approached I recognised him as the chap who plays number eight for Bath.

At this point some explanation may be required for overseas readers. If anyone here in Bath says, ‘He plays for Bath,’ they mean Bath Rugby club which is one of the best in the country and to which my father took me every Saturday from the age of eight. I am a devoted fan and still go quite often. Number eight means that he plays at the back of the scrum but I suspect this may be too much too soon for some of you. Suffice to say it means he is a high-grade, professional sportsman and he looked every inch of it, carved from granite.

To be fair this meant nothing to Donna who murmured, ‘Well, even I can see why Nellie might find him worth talking to.’

Nellie introduced us to the rugby player whom she had met at a club some days before. She was clearly showing him off. He was charming, well-dressed and had quite obviously interested in Nellie. When I said that I recognised him, I revealed my interest in the game. He asked if we might perhaps care to go to the next game and take Nellie. He’d get us good seats and perhaps I could be persuaded to explain the game to Nellie as it unfolds since she patently doesn’t get it. We might care to join him and other members of the team afterwards for a drink? Nellie agreed on our behalf before we could even think about it.

As I recall Donna and I were later indulging in a little bit of mutual exploration when I said, ‘You fancied him, didn’t you?’ Donna’s finger did a little ‘come hither’ motion somewhere deep inside me and I clung to her as the wave of abandonment flowed through me. Sometimes, just sometimes, she can tip me over the edge in seconds when she gets that just right.

As I calmed, my chin resting on her shoulder, Donna asked, ‘You jealous, College?’

‘You can fancy anyone you like but please, let me know if you’re going to do anything about it?’

She gently eased me back and stroked my face. ‘Soppy tart. Oh, he’s handsome enough but I thought by now you’d have realised that I am first, interested sexually only in one half of the earth’s population and second, that once the L word creeps into our relationship there is a promise between us that cannot be broken. Never had you down as insecure.’

At that moment I felt entirely secure. Her hand had not moved and her spare arm was around my neck and I felt as safe as it is humanly possible to feel. I kissed her.

We were given seats in the directors’ box. Donna had come dressed in a long, black coat and a cap which tilted deliciously to the left. I was wearing a Barbour jacket I found in the back of a cupboard and a long, woollen scarf with, unusually for me, jeans against the chill weather. Nellie wore a pvc coat, a skirt like a pelmet and heels – she shivered through most of the game which, when someone has knockers like hers, can be scary. In fact Donna said she looked like she was having an earthquake! My attempts to explain what was going on in the game fell on stony, permafrost ground.

When we retired to the bar we gratefully absorbed some heat and some well-deserved beer. Nellie’s beau and a couple of his chums joined us a while later looking fresh and clean although he had a black eye and a plaster across his nose. This brought the Florence Nightingale out in Nellie who stood on tiptoe to caress his face with nursely concern. We chatted to the other players since Nellie’s chest formed an impenetrable barrier around the two of them.

I chatted to the fly half (I won’t explain – it would take too long) but left him to go to the loo where Donna arrived soon after. We chatted convivially in neighbouring stalls and then she said, ‘Do you mind if we go home? I’m not sure why but I have an uncanny desire to give you a seeing to.’ We made our way back to say our goodbyes then walked hand in hand and with increasing urgency.

We almost ran up the stairs. I opened the door and she dragged me inside, kicking the door to behind her. She fell upon me there in the hallway. She wrestled my jacket open and undid the waist of my jeans. She pushed them down to my ankles and, as I kissed her fervently she removed her own trousers. It was like wrestling. She pushed me against the wall and almost ripped her trousers in her haste to remove them her knickers and her boots. She didn’t give me time to step out of my jeans but threaded her leg between mine, stepping over the mess of denim and knickers around my ankles. Her hands on my shoulders, her face close to mine with a wicked, lustful grin she pressed herself to me and ground against me. She kissed me savagely and I responded eagerly, opening my mouth and sucking her tongue deep into my mouth. Both dressed above the waist we moved like things possessed, our hips moving in opposition, our mouths together. I slipped my hands inside her coat and gripped her blouse in my clenched hands. Her arms were around me and she bit my lip. Suddenly her head went back and she gave a sort of howl and I felt her entire body go into a paroxysm. My own crisis followed noisily in seconds, fuelled by her lust, her arousal and her orgasm. We slid to the floor and held each other, a tangle of clothes and limbs. We held each other, panting and sweating.

We both looked up in horror as the front door slowly creaked open. To my huge relief there was nobody there. We burst into a giggling fit which became hysterical.

Donna disentangled herself and stood to close the door. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘If the neighbours had any doubts before, they sure as hell don’t now. Goodness – you seem to have lost your trousers!’