Locker Room Hand Stuff

He stepped off the ice and onto the rubber mat, easily balancing on the thin blades. Behind him, the scoreboard proudly announced the victory of the home team. Stepping aside to let the other guys by, he glanced at the gaunt scoreboards. A girl he knew from his English class, who shared his obscure major had promised to be there. She was nowhere to be seen.

The hockey player sighed and shuffled his way to the locker room when his teammate grabbed him by his royal purple sweater. "Harv, come here."

Harv clutched his bucket and followed his teammate. Coach Green wouldn't mind if they weren't in the locker room immediately. They had won, and it was only Division Three Hockey.

"Mom, this is Harv, the guy I've been telling you about. He's really been helping me out this year. Harv, this is my mom."

"Hi Harv," she said. "I'm Grace Dean." She held out a small white hand.

"Nice to meet you Missus Dean." Harv pulled off a gray glove and shook her hand.

"Jasper's told me a lot about you. He said you've been like a mentor to him."

Harv rolled his eyes at Jasper and smirked at Mrs. Dean. "All these freshmen think seniors are mentors just because we tell 'em not to be morons." He looked over her head, scanning for the young woman who promised to be there.

She laughed, a sweet chuckle. Harv heard it and stopped looking for the classmate. Mrs. Dean was beautiful. Crinkled blonde hair. Green eyes. He looked down and envied the man who had given her the rings of gold on her left hand. "I hope my son isn't too much of a moron," she said.

"Not as bad as some." The moment of attraction passed. Harv looked again for his classmate and did not see her. "Come on gobby," he said, tapping Jasper on the shoulder.

"Gobby?" asked Mrs. Dean.

"It's a long story," said Harv, as he walked to the locker room.

A lot of the guys were already undressed and heading out. Coach Green's policy was that he'd give a victory speech on the practice after a victory. After all, it was division three. Nobody cared except the players. A few mentioned a party. Harv knew it was going to happen, but he had planned to hang out with his pretty classmate there. Now that she wasn't there, he figured he'd rather go back to his dorm and finish the paper he should've completed a week ago. The prospect of homework did not excite him. He took his time getting changed.

Everybody had left. Harv pulled his jeans on. Somebody knocked on the locker room door. He opened it. "Mrs. Dean?" he asked, standing in the doorframe shirtless.

"Harv!" she said after a moment. "Is Jasper in here?"

"No, he went to the party," he said.

She groaned. "I was planning to take him to dinner. He could've told me."

"Did he know?"

"Yes. I made reservations. Would you skip out on your mother like that, Harv?"

"No offense, Mrs. Dean, but most guys in college have things they'd rather do than hang out with their family," said Harv. He let the door close and gathered his sticks and bag. When he came out of the room, Mrs. Dean was still there.

"I'm not offended, Harv," she said. "But I did drive a hundred miles to see my son, and now he's blowing me off, and I did make reservations." She named a restaurant and explained that it was the best in town. Harv had never heard of it and had no interest in the foods she described. "Would you like to go?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dean, that place sounds too rich for my blood," he said with a shrug. "I really just want to go back to my dorm."

"Back to your dorm? When other guys are partying? That's odd," she said. "Wouldn't you rather have some company?"

"My company bailed."

"I could be your company."

"I'm not interested in the restaurant, Mrs. Dean, I'm sorry."

"We don't have to go to the restaurant, and please, call me Grace."

"Where would we go?"

"Your dorm."

Harv narrowed his eyes at the pretty older woman. She grinned at him and breathed in at the same time, pushing out the chest contained in a tight tan sweater. At that moment the rink lights went out. "The manager's locking up," Harv said. "We'll still be able to leave. But maybe we don't have to go anywhere."

"We don't?" Grace came closer to Harv. She was close enough that he could see her looking up at him.

"I mean, maybe just in here." Harv pushed the door open with his sticks and backed up. He dropped his equipment and held the door open. Grace did not come. He stepped forward and held out his hand, touching hers. She shrunk back, then took it. Harv pulled her inside.

Grace stared up at him, and hooking her finger in his jeans, pulled him close. Tilting her mouth up, she proffered a kiss that he took, and she did not let go.

Harv felt himself rise in his pants, stretching up toward her hand as his own moved up her body to cup her breasts. He pressed her nipples through her shirt and she moaned. His tip reached her palm, but she moved her hand up. Harv moved his down, down, between her legs, touching her through the tight black pants. She groaned and seized his wrist. He felt the metal of her wedding ring on his hand as she pulled him into her pants, under her panties. Her twat was slick. He moved his fingers between the lips, and pushed the tip of his middle finger into her hole.

"Unnch," she moaned.

Encouraged, Harv explored, adding a second finger. He rotated them inside her, thrust them, and flicked the roof of her pussy. When he did that, she grabbed his wrist, twisting the skin. "Like that baby, just... slower."

Harv obeyed, doing the same thing. She moaned, but kept repeating for him to do it like that. The motion became tedious, but whenever he did something else, she twisted his wrist and begged him to do it again. His wrist started to hurt. Harv switched hands, and continued. Grace did not moan any louder, but held tight to his wrist. Her body shuddered and shivered. He kept going.

"Baby... slow down, I'm good." She pulled his hand and brought his fingers out of her. He looked her in the eye and licked his fingers. Grace giggled, and put her hands back on his body. She found the button and the zipper and undid them slowly. Harv stepped back and let his pants fall. Grace gasped, and put her hand to her mouth. "Oh my god," she muttered.

She grabbed his rigid member. The strokes were long, slow. Her hand was soft and smooth, and the chilled metal of her wedding ring only added to the sensation. He grabbed her body by the sides, high enough that he could push up her breasts with his thumbs. She kissed him and kept stroking. He let his hands fall, and slipped them back up under her sweater, feeling the bottom of a lace bra. He thrust his hips and she added a second hand, but stopped jerking him. "Like that baby..." she moaned, pulling her hands closer to her body. He kept thrusting, feeling her soft stomach on the underside of his cock, on his head. She raised her thumbs and they brushed the side of his head as he thrust. She pushed her thumbs against it.

She urged him on and he was load as he spurted, shooting sperm up to her chest under the sweater. She started stroking him again until he was done, then let him go.

Harv panted and held Grace by her hips, kissing her, grinding against her. She held him tight and kept him going. When they finally stopped she stroked his hair. "Are you hungry now?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Take me to your dorm," she said. "We'll order in."