Tryna Hump Something: Being Attracted to Men in the Heat (haha) of Hockey Season
I need to be sedated.
I am in heat. Lusting. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. I am horny.
Is this was Edward felt like when he smelled Bella’s scent for the first time in Twilight? I feel bloodthirsty. I need to bite something. I need… to hump something.
The frustrating thing about this urge is that it comes and goes in waves, much like my positive opinions toward the male gender. But alas, here we are, and none of them are safe.
I assumed everyone would be safe when I went to a hockey game. The cold temperatures would cool me down, and the aggressive masculinity would turn me off. Despite having an affinity towards pretty boys plagued with slight gay face, I do appreciate men with sleeper builds on occasion. But this. This was an entirely different beast. I turned into an entirely different beast.
There is something about the way those young men glide on the ice with such precision, only to slam into each other with such force that is almost erotic. The crunch of their helmets against the glass. The anger in every push and shove. The violence of it all. It’s beautiful.
And sure, maybe they are just skating around trying to get a ridiculously small projectile into a ridiculously big goal, but God do they love it. Maybe that’s what it is: seeing men actually passionate about something really does something to a girl. Like, “Wow. I guess you really do have the capacity to care for something other than yourself.”
Don’t get me started on how protective they are of each other. Zoo wee mama. They would go to war for that little puck. They would go to war for each other. To swing on another man because he tripped your teammates? I’m throbbing.
Ok ok fine. I’m sorry for objectifying the men of our hockey team. They are the pride of BU. The future of the NHL. They worked hard to get where they are, and-
Oh, who am I kidding? I start every game by checking the opposing team’s roster. I cheer the “sexy goalie” chant with glee because I really mean it. If the competition is hotter, I struggle to stay loyal to our team. But I love them. I love the fire, the energy, and the passion. Most importantly, I avoid sitting right in front of the glass because I am scared that I will lick it whenever one of them gets too close. Sorry!