Five Times Leslie Wore Roller Skates (4/5)

[zarrati]

Title: Five Times Leslie Wore Roller Skates (4/5)
Author:
zarrati
Pairing: Leslie/Ben
Rating this Chapter: R
Summary: Series of non-sequential drabbles featuring Leslie in Roller Skates
Author's Note: Ben goes to the Roller Derby


The rink was packed, hundreds of fans cramped in like sardines waiting for the teams to make their entrance.

Ben Wyatt pushed his way through the masses to find his seat--a seat near the front so she could see him.

His palms were clammy, his nerves jittery. This was the biggest tournament she had played in so far. The best teams in the Midwest had battled it out, and it was down to these two.

He looked around at the rabid fans who came to watch the bout. Some were dressed in their teams colors while others held up signs of support.

He couldn't help but smile with pride whenever he saw signs for "Liberty Belle".

There was a time, in the beginning, when he could barely stand the way in which the men looked at her. Shouted at her. Gawked at her.

She would appease fans who tried to touch her, her persona playing along with them.

It resulted in a blowout. His jealousy reared its ugly head and accusations flew.

How could she let these people objectify her like that? Touch her like that?

He wanted her to quit.

But as usual, she was right and made it a point to show him.

Amidst his tirade, she shut him up with a fierce kiss, forcing her tongue past his lips. He grew aroused despite how angry he was.

"Yes, they watch me," she had said between kisses. "They cheer for me, they scream at me, and sometimes they get close enough to touch me. But not like this. Never like this."

She took his hand and forced it down her pants. "Do you feel that? Only you do that to me. Only you make me feel this way, so wet I can't even believe it. What I do at the rink with them is business. " She stroked him. "This is pleasure."

Ben was snapped from his reverie by the announcer calling for the start of the Midwestern Roller Derby Championship Bout.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the announcer bellowed. “Put your hands together for the best Roller Derby team in all of Southern Indiana--The Wamapoke Roller Girls!”

The women skated onto the rink, smiling and waving to the screaming crowd. Leading the team was Leslie.

Her blonde hair fell in gorgeous curls despite the hindrance of the helmet, her makeup heavier than what she would ever wear in her "other life".

In her other life, she’s a mild mannered government employee. But not tonight. Tonight she was Liberty Belle, or Belle for short.

Her shorts barely covered the tops of her thighs, creamy white skin exposed down to her knee pads. She wore her trademark American Flag knee high socks, and proudly showed off her number--1817, the year Pawnee was founded.

As the team’s jammer, she was required to wear the customary star on her helmet, which completed her ensemble perfectly.

The team skated around the track, firing up the crowd and slapping high fives to any hand they passed.

She gave Ben a saucy wink and blew him a kiss as she passed by.

All too soon, the teams lined up to prepare for the first jam.

It was Belle’s job to score points, bypassing the pack of opposing blockers whose sole objective was to make sure she didn’t get through.

And she was damn good at it.

Her small size served her well for that position, able to weave in and out of the players at a high speed. But she was tough, too. She could knock down players twice her size without even losing her balance.

The ref blew the first whistle and started the jam, Belle shooting off like a bullet.

She pushed her way through the pack, strategically trying to avoid blocks from the opposing team.

Jam after jam was played in the first thirty minute half, the teams very evenly matched. Several blocks against her succeeded, throwing Belle onto the ground, but she was always quick to recover.

Just the sight of her was erotic. Skating around the track, throwing herself at the other players.

He could see why she found it so empowering. It was a sport that celebrated the inherent strength of the women who played it. Their bodies were their own weapons to use. It was a sisterhood that he couldn’t even begin to understand, but respected nonetheless.

Ben found himself screaming and cheering along with the rest of the crowd, his stomach plummeting with every fall, his pulse racing with every point she scored.

By the end of the first half, the opposing team was behind by only 10 points, a very narrow margin that Ben could easily see getting smaller the way both teams were playing.

The pressure was on during the second half, each team pushing themselves harder and harder. The blocks grew more aggressive, the penalties more frequent, and the injuries more serious. Cuts, scrapes, and bruises did nothing to deter the women, especially Belle. Just like in her other life, there was no illness or ailment that could stop her from achieving her goal.

The teams were neck and neck, and it seemed that for every point scored by one team, the other would match it.

It came down to what would most likely be the final jam of the bout. As play began, Belle was able to force her way to the front of the pack, sealing her position as lead jammer.

It was at that moment that Ben knew what she planned to do. As lead jammer, she was entitled to end the jam at any moment, sealing the fate of the opposing team. All she had to do was score one more point than their rivals, and she could end the game.

Ben’s hands were shaking with a mixture of anxiety and excitement, completely focused on watching the love of his life skate.

With less than 30 seconds left in the final jam, he could see Belle speeding up behind the pack. They were only 3 points behind, and if she managed to skate past the 4 opposing blockers, she could end the game.

Belle yelled out to her teammates and they quickly rearranged themselves. Racing towards them, one of her ‘derby sisters’ extended her arm, which Belle grabbed onto. As they turned the corner, her sister transferred some of her speed and momentum to Belle, throwing her forward while her other sisters blocked the other team from passing.

“Look at that gorgeous whip!” the announcer cried, but Ben could barely hear it. He was too focused on her, the cheers of the other patrons almost deafening.

That extra push was all that she needed. To Ben, it was almost as if everything was happening in slow motion. The force of the whip propelled her forward, pushing her way past the 4 opposing blockers. As soon as she scored the final point, Belle ended the jam by repeatedly placing her hands on her hips.

The crowd exploded with excitement as the final whistle blew, Ben screaming and cheering louder than he could ever remember. The Wamapoke Roller Girls surrounded Belle and hoisted her up, the team doing a victory lap around the track with her on their shoulders.

Belle was beaming with pride, clapping and pumping her fists at the adoring fans. Once her teammates put her down, she raced over to where Ben was at the sidelines. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards her in one of the most sensual kisses they had ever shared.

He gathered her in his arms and held her tight, words of love, support and pride pouring out of him. All too soon, the rest of the The Wamapoke Roller Girls swept Belle away once again.

He received several jealous looks from the men around him, but he was too excited to care. The pride that he felt towards her at that moment was almost unprecedented, second only to the night she won her City Council Seat.

As the crowds began to thin, Ben made his way out of his seat. Belle was now surrounded by fans, graciously accepting their congratulations, signing programs, and posing for pictures.

She was covered in sweat, her make up smeared and streaking, and she had blood smeared across her cheek.

Ben swore that she had never looked more beautiful.

God, just watching her had him in an almost constant state of arousal, the stress from the bout the only thing keeping him in check.

But it was over now, and they had won, his desire for her slamming into him with full force.

“Hey, if you want to wait for her, you are more than welcome to go back towards the locker rooms,” a voice startled him. He turned and saw one of Belle’s teammates, Barb the Boxer, standing next to him with a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, yeah, thanks.”

Several other skaters passed him by as he waited. As usual, Belle was the last to go back, always insisting on meeting every one of her fans before she shed her Derby Persona in the locker room.

She looked up and saw him, a huge smile spreading on her face as she sped towards him and jumped into his waiting arms.

“We did it! I can’t believe it.”

“Of course you did. You were so amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

She looked up into his eyes and he could see moisture flooding them. Tears of pride in herself and her team.

“Thank you so much.” She gave him a kiss that rivaled the previous one, a kiss that tried to display every single emotion coursing through them at that moment.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startled them apart and they met the amused gazes of her teammates, the group already changed out of their gear and ready to leave.

“Well, we are going out for some celebratory drinks. You comin’, Belle?” Barb asked.

“You know it. I’ll meet you guys over there after I get ready.”

“Alright, Champ. See you there.”

As Ben watched their retreating backs, Leslie was looking back and forth down the hallway. She opened the door to the locker room and shouted if anyone was inside. Getting no response, she grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him inside with her.

“Babe, what are you doing? This is the women’s locker room.”

“Yeah, and as of right now, I am the only woman in it, and I certainly don’t mind that you’re here.”

God, he knew that look she was giving him. She was high on a win, and that look meant one thing--she was horny as hell.

She grabbed him from behind his neck and pulled him down to her, her tongue sliding past his open lips. He could feel her hands removing his belt and opening the zipper of his jeans.

“God, babe. I’m already too far gone. We have to stop. ”

She ignored him and slipped her hand through his open fly, pulling him out and stroking him.

“Fuck, Leslie. We can’t--we can’t do this here.”

She gripped him as tightly as she could without hurting him, her lips moving up to his ear.

“No, not Leslie,” she hissed. “You see these skates? Until they come off, I’m Belle, and Belle always gets what she wants. Tonight, she wants you.”

Ben whimpered and crushed his mouth to hers, propelling her backwards on her skates until she was stopped by the row of sinks.

Belle continued to stroke him as his tongue invaded her mouth, driving him almost to the point of no return.

“Turn around,” he demanded, his voice so rough he almost didn’t recognize it.

She nodded and bit her lip in excitement. Turning around, she now faced the mirrors and caught his eyes in the reflection. Leaning over the sinks’ ledge, she thrust her ass towards him, knowing exactly what he wanted.

He came up behind her and started massaging her ass through her shorts, kneading it with his strong fingers.

Fuck, he could smell her from here she was so ready for him. He couldn’t believe that they were going to actually do this.

It needed to be quick, someone could walk in on them at any moment, and her teammates might grow suspicious if they arrived at the bar too late.

He moved his hands up and down her back, ass and thighs before slipping her shorts and panties down her legs.

“God, Ben, just fuck me already.”

He gripped himself and moved forward to stand directly behind her. He rubbed his cock over the outside of her lips before poising himself at her entrance. He was moving ever so slowly into her when--

“GOOD MORNING, WASHINGTON!”

The sound of the radio jolted Ben awake, his heart racing at the sudden intrusion. He looked around confused before fully regaining consciousness.

This wasn’t a locker room. This was his apartment in D.C., and Leslie was a thousand miles away in Pawnee.

Damn, it had all been a dream.

He ran his hands over his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. He looked down at his tented sheets, courtesy of his now raging morning erection.

Ben cursed once more before rolling over and turning off the radio and silently thanked whoever was responsible for canceling his early morning meeting.

God, that dream. This was certainly not the first erotic dream he'd had of Leslie since his move to D.C., but they had never felt so real before.

He could still remember the smell of the rink, hear the cheering of the crowd, feel Leslie as he was about to plunge into her in the locker room.

Fuck.

They hadn’t planned to phone each other that morning, but he had to talk to her, the ache of missing her multiplied as a result of the dream. He was about to reach for his phone when it rang. He silently prayed that it wasn’t someone from work, and let out a sigh of relief when the screen displayed Leslie’s name.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep.

“Hey! I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nope. I got up a few minutes ago. You know, I was just about to call you.”

“Liar.”

He could hear the teasing smile in her voice.

“I was.”

“Well, great minds think alike. I knew you didn’t have your regular morning meeting today, and I wanted to surprise you.” She let out a sigh. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. You have no idea how much.”

She laughed. “I don’t know, I think I might have an idea.”

Ben didn’t respond immediately, smiling into the phone. God, he loved this woman.

"Regardless, I'm just so happy to hear your voice right now."

"Oh, yeah?" Her voice had dropped an octave, and he could imagine predatory look in her eyes. "Is there anything special you want this voice to say?"

He slipped his hands beneath the sheets and bit back a moan as he gripped himself.

“Yes. Oh my God, yes." He swallowed. "But first, I want to tell you about the dream I had last night.”
Part 5