cursed Ty for the arrogant ass he was. Then she'd phoned
Corey Rome, the only woman she'd met lately with a figure anywhere comparable
to her own, and presumed to ask the model's advice. Corey had been a doll about
the entire subject, not at all bitchy or superior—which was why Jess was
sitting next to her now, wearing a stretchy new satin-and-lace, barely padded
"Magic" bra beneath her ribbed knit top.
Corey's eyes twinkled. "So? It looks good. How does it feel?"
"Odd," Jess confided in a near whisper. "More
confining than my sports bras, but lighter, too. I didn't know they made them
so pretty these days, without those stupid removable pads."
Corey winked. "Hey! We've come a long way, babe. A little
polyester fiberfill in the right places, and whallah! Instant cleavage! And
who's to know? In the heat of passion, a guy is going to be eyeing what's
popping out over the lace, not what's supporting you underneath or on the
sides."
"Are you sure it isn't too much? Too drastic a change?"
Jess asked self-consciously.
"Absolutely not," Corey assured her. "Now, sit up
straight before I'm tempted to strap a yardstick to your back. Show those
puppies off, girl!"
Once the game got under way, Jess got caught up in the action and
forgot all about her slinky new undies. Having attended OSU, she'd been a
dyed-in-the-wool Buckeye fan, and had evolved into an enthusiastic football fan
overall, enjoying both college and pro games. While so many women complained of
being football widows on weekends and Monday nights, Jess was usually glued to
her TV set, happily munching popcorn and playing "armchair
quarterback." That, or freezing her buns off in Ohio State's horseshoe
stadium, bravely courting pneumonia and the flu.
Of course, this was still August, as muggy and buggy as it could
get outdoors. Contrarily, while it was a relief not to have to sweat and swat
mosquitos, in some inexplicable way, being ensconced
in such a perfect-weather atmosphere took away from the spectator ambience
somehow. All this comfort at a football match would take some getting used to,
Jess supposed.
The first quarter was slow and relatively uneventful, ending in a
scoreless tie. "I realize no one wants to get injured in preseason, but
this is ridiculous!" Jess griped.
"I know," Corey agreed with a bored yawn. "You'd
think they were all afraid of getting those boss uniforms dirty, as if they had
to do their own laundry!"
The team uniforms were undeniably sharp. Crimson and silver, they
were designed to emulate as closely as possible the battle outfits of
knights-of-old. From a distance, the jerseys actually looked as if they were
made of chain-mail armor, the front of each adorned with a pair of crossed
swords and the player's number on a scarlet shield. Likewise, the helmets were
fashioned to resemble a knight's helmet and sported a horse's head on the
sides, the symbol used in chess to designate the knight's piece. For each
touchdown, sack, or other important personal achievement, a silver spur would
be added, affixed to the wide band of red that encircled the outer edge of the
helmet.
Naturally, the cheerleaders had to have outfits to complement the
team, though in their case a lot of liberty had been taken with the theme.
Known unofficially as the Columbus Dames, the formal title given to a female
member of the order of knighthood in olden days, they had chosen not to dress
as "ladies." Rather, they wore short skirts, which again appeared to
be made of metal, much like the skirts of tasses on a suit of armor. Their
sleeveless, bare-midriff tops were cunningly cut in imitation of a breastplate.
By contrast, those cute little cowgirl getups the Dallas cheerleaders wore were
almost modest!
Thankfully, the pace picked up in the second quarter, as if the
players had finally gotten the feel of the field and the measure of their
opponents. Moreover, the players were still vying for various slots on the
teams, needing to prove to their respective coaches that
Corey Rome, the only woman she'd met lately with a figure anywhere comparable
to her own, and presumed to ask the model's advice. Corey had been a doll about
the entire subject, not at all bitchy or superior—which was why Jess was
sitting next to her now, wearing a stretchy new satin-and-lace, barely padded
"Magic" bra beneath her ribbed knit top.
Corey's eyes twinkled. "So? It looks good. How does it feel?"
"Odd," Jess confided in a near whisper. "More
confining than my sports bras, but lighter, too. I didn't know they made them
so pretty these days, without those stupid removable pads."
Corey winked. "Hey! We've come a long way, babe. A little
polyester fiberfill in the right places, and whallah! Instant cleavage! And
who's to know? In the heat of passion, a guy is going to be eyeing what's
popping out over the lace, not what's supporting you underneath or on the
sides."
"Are you sure it isn't too much? Too drastic a change?"
Jess asked self-consciously.
"Absolutely not," Corey assured her. "Now, sit up
straight before I'm tempted to strap a yardstick to your back. Show those
puppies off, girl!"
Once the game got under way, Jess got caught up in the action and
forgot all about her slinky new undies. Having attended OSU, she'd been a
dyed-in-the-wool Buckeye fan, and had evolved into an enthusiastic football fan
overall, enjoying both college and pro games. While so many women complained of
being football widows on weekends and Monday nights, Jess was usually glued to
her TV set, happily munching popcorn and playing "armchair
quarterback." That, or freezing her buns off in Ohio State's horseshoe
stadium, bravely courting pneumonia and the flu.
Of course, this was still August, as muggy and buggy as it could
get outdoors. Contrarily, while it was a relief not to have to sweat and swat
mosquitos, in some inexplicable way, being ensconced
in such a perfect-weather atmosphere took away from the spectator ambience
somehow. All this comfort at a football match would take some getting used to,
Jess supposed.
The first quarter was slow and relatively uneventful, ending in a
scoreless tie. "I realize no one wants to get injured in preseason, but
this is ridiculous!" Jess griped.
"I know," Corey agreed with a bored yawn. "You'd
think they were all afraid of getting those boss uniforms dirty, as if they had
to do their own laundry!"
The team uniforms were undeniably sharp. Crimson and silver, they
were designed to emulate as closely as possible the battle outfits of
knights-of-old. From a distance, the jerseys actually looked as if they were
made of chain-mail armor, the front of each adorned with a pair of crossed
swords and the player's number on a scarlet shield. Likewise, the helmets were
fashioned to resemble a knight's helmet and sported a horse's head on the
sides, the symbol used in chess to designate the knight's piece. For each
touchdown, sack, or other important personal achievement, a silver spur would
be added, affixed to the wide band of red that encircled the outer edge of the
helmet.
Naturally, the cheerleaders had to have outfits to complement the
team, though in their case a lot of liberty had been taken with the theme.
Known unofficially as the Columbus Dames, the formal title given to a female
member of the order of knighthood in olden days, they had chosen not to dress
as "ladies." Rather, they wore short skirts, which again appeared to
be made of metal, much like the skirts of tasses on a suit of armor. Their
sleeveless, bare-midriff tops were cunningly cut in imitation of a breastplate.
By contrast, those cute little cowgirl getups the Dallas cheerleaders wore were
almost modest!
Thankfully, the pace picked up in the second quarter, as if the
players had finally gotten the feel of the field and the measure of their
opponents. Moreover, the players were still vying for various slots on the
teams, needing to prove to their respective coaches that
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