. where?Across the hall, in 1404, Kirsten Gustafson rolled sleepily toward the incessant electronic beep of her clock radio. She didn’t need to look at the time, she knew it was 5am and time to get up and get dressed. Another day, another practice at the university rink. She wondered for the umpteenth time if it was what she really wanted. Women’s hockey was a dead end for most young women. Her only ambition was to make the UBC women’s hockey team no later than her second year. In September, she would begin her first year at the giant campus.Her parents wouldn’t be up for another two hours and would have time to enjoy a breakfast and a coffee before heading off to open their store. Kirsten would have to settle for some juice, a banana, and a distasteful protein shake. If nothing else, the shake would suppress her appetite for the duration of the practice. She was mindful of her weight, trying to maintain a delicate balance between the strength and power needed to play a defensive. I'm sure most of you know what it feelslike to sit in the back seat of a school bus - the kind where the back fewseats hang back over the rear wheel. Every time we went over a bump orsomething, the girls bounced hard onto me.It was thrilling, but it was also agonizing. It was, like, a majoreffort to breathe, my stomach was starting to hurt, and I was having crampsfrom the constant hard-on.And then I started to smell Diane's "feminine" odor. This only made myhard-on even bigger! I knew the girl sitting on it could feel it toobecause I heard her giggle every time she squirmed around on it. A coupleof times, I almost came in my pants.The trip lasted several hours and I was pinned under them the whole way!It was really outrageous, but I was also really beat when we finally gotthere. The side of my head was sore from being sat on. I was totallyexhausted from struggling to breathe. My stomach was in cramps. My dickhurt from the constant hard-on. And my neck hurt from being twisted to.
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