Where it happened: Our home
Two years ago, several businessmen in our town acquired a hockey franchise to play in our local ice arena. This league is composed of young players from Canada (for the mostpart), ages 16-20. My husband has always been an avid hockey fan, and I have gone to the games with him on several occasions, and have enjoyed watching as well. Last year, the league was advertizing for homes in which to billet the young hockey players. This requires a big commitment on the part of those families that agree to take a player into their home for the season. They must not only provide him with a room of his own, but they must also feed him, do his laundry, make sure that he attends school, and give counseling where needed. In short, the families that billet the players are in effect,secondary parents. A small stipend is given the families, but mostly, you must love these teenagers like your own.
At age 35, my husband and I had not been blessed with children, and so my husband suggested to me that maybe we could take on one of the hockey players for this season. I kind of hesitated at first, because neither he nor I had ever taken care of a child, let alone a teenager, and it did entail a lot of responsibility, especially on my part, because I would be doing most of the work involved. But, I finally gave in. And “Eric” came to live with us around the middle of August in order to start playing in September.
He was 17,and he was big and handsome. Very athletically built, about 6’2″ with wavy black hair. And he was very friendly and polite. My husband and I were both very pleased with this young man, but I did think to myself, “They are sure making teenagers to look like grown men these days.”
Eric was with us until this past March and into early April. I got to know him real well, and he got to know me real well. I made him breakfast, saw that he got toschool, ate dinner with him in the evening, Did his laundry. Listened to his problems. One thing they never told us about was the testosterone levels and sexual needs of these fellows. I knew that they probably masturbated, and I could tell that Eric did when I washed his clothes, particularly his underwear, athletic supporters (jock straps) and his jeans. But I never would have suspected that these young guys wanted real sex, especially with their billeting “parent.” Maybe I just dressed too provacatively around him, I don’t know. I do have a good shape and I guess it shows in places, but I certainly wasn’t parading around the house in negligees or anything like that.
Unfortunately “it” did happen between us. One day, last November, I brought a load of laundry (shirts, jeans, jockey shorts etc.) up to his room, while he was there,and before you knew it, he had me on his bed, and we were kissing. I don’t know what made me do it, but I guess he just came on to me at a vulnerable moment. And in a few minutes we were both naked, and he was inside my body, thrusting, and filling me with his love cream. It felt wonderful — having this handsome young stud making love to me with such a passion. And thanking me, verbally, telling me that it was his first time and that he never thought anything could be so great. Whether, in fact, it was his first time, I don’t know, because he certainly knew all the right things to do. Well, after that first time together, we obviously had more — usually once a week or every two weeks. In the remaining 5 months, we must have made love 25 or 30 times. I knew it was wrong, but he was such a desirable young man, and I must admit it didn’t feel wrong at the time and it was so very satisfying for both of us. Because I had never had children,and I knew there was no danger of my getting pregnant, we never used any protection. It was just good “recreational” sex between two consenting people, usually after school before my husband got home from work.
My husband never found out about these trysts, and now this year he is talking once again about billeting another young hockey player in our home. I don’t think we should, but don’t know what to tell him as to why we should not, since he thinks everything turned out just fine last year.
I don’t want to be unfaithful to my husband again, by being a Hockey “Mom.” If he does talk me into doing it again, I will really have to be on my guard, because these young Canadians apparently are “rarin’ to go” when it comes to sex. At least this one that came to our house.