Alan and Christine were making their way to the men's restroom. The stands rose up to a good height, and most of the area underneath it was unused, but covered by a concrete wall with little more than beams and rafters on the inside. The underside was, however, where men's and ladies' restrooms had been built. Alan and Christine had to walk down some steep stairs to get from the top of the stands back to ground level.
Their leaving the stands was spotted by Ivan, Ryan's teammate, who had been watching them and who immediately alerted Ryan.
Alan walked casually, noting how Christine was looking around warily and walking like she expected to get jumped from behind at any moment. I can't believe how serious Christine is about all of this. I mean, I appreciate the help, but she needs to take a chill pill. Sure, half time or after the game, we should worry. But I just saw Ryan and his whole gang sitting on the bench! Besides, we're within easy shouting distance of over a hundred people. When she gets tense like this, then I get tense. Maybe some jokes will help her relax just a bit.
He asked, "Did you hear the one about the blonde who tried to buy some orange juice?"
Christine sighed and rolled her eyes. She tried to show displeasure at Alan's blonde jokes, even though she actually liked them. "No," she replied.
Alan grinned. "She stood there at the store for two hours just staring. Do you know why?"
As smart as Christine was, she wasn't particularly good at figuring out jokes or coming up with her own on the fly. She was forced to ask, "No. Why?"
"Because the word written on the box was 'concentrate'!"
Christine groaned. But she'd figured Alan would joke like this and she had prepared some jokes of her own. As they slowly walked down the stairs so she could look around carefully, she said, "There's only one thing dumber than your dumb blondes, and that's tit men. And you know why: they're always thinking about boobs. Why, I knew this one tit man, he was so obsessed about breasts that it took him THREE HOURS to watch 60 Minutes!"
Alan laughed as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He stopped and stared hard at Christine while continuing to smile. He brought his face right up to hers, as if he was trying to intimidate her, but in fact they both knew that he was just playing around. "So. That's the way it's gonna be, huh? You're gonna fight fire with fire?"
"Yep," she replied defiantly, going along with his mock tough-guy tease. Or at least she tried to act defiant, but she broke into a big smile. She knew she should be more mindful of danger in her surroundings, but she was having a hard time thinking about that when Alan's lips were so close to hers. His face was so near that his chest was pressing hard into hers. She could feel her nipples growing hard as her spongy big tits practically enveloped his muscular chest.
He thought, My God, she is actually pushing her big tits into me. Whew! This is getting hard to take. She feels so good, I want to rip her blouse open and grab her luscious melons and... No, no, I can't think like that. I have to keep her safe from my debauched lifestyle.
Still, he couldn't resist leaning in closer, pressing their chests even closer together. He teased her some more just to prolong their contact. "So every time I tell a dumb-blonde joke, you're gonna tell me a dumb-tit-man joke?"
"Yep!" She was still maintaining a defiant stance and pose, but inside she was swooning and melting. Oh my God! Is he gonna kiss me? I think he might kiss me! What if he kisses me?! What should I do?! She was contemplating closing her eyes and puckering her lips.
But all of a sudden, he just said, "Okay, fair enough," and pulled away. He'd realized that she might accidentally brush up against his growing erection, and he didn't want things to go that far.
Christine was stunned (and disappointed) by his withdrawal, and immediately looked around. She half expected a group of masked men holding baseball bats to be standing behind her, but the coast was clear. In fact, there wasn't a single person to be seen anywhere. That was dumb, she thought. I can't lose my focus! Not here, not now.
A bit more miffed at herself than at him, she barked testily, "What was THAT all about?"
He was smiling from ear to ear, greatly enjoying the contact and the banter. "What was what about?"
"All that leaning in close and practically touching noses. Was that just some kind of cheap excuse to feel my chest against yours?"
"Yep!" he admitted proudly. "After all, you said it: I'm a tit man."
"Grrr!" she stomped a few feet away huffily. But on the inside, she loved the attention. Her heart was still pounding from the near kiss. She'd always hated her over-endowment, since her breasts had always been a tremendous athletic inconvenience to her rather than an asset to be cherished, but now she was having second thoughts about that. She'd also never really thought of her breasts as powerful erogenous zones, as fingering her own nipples didn't do much for her. But now she was rethinking that too. Her nipples were hard and even tingling, just from his verbal and visual attention.
The two of them walked in silence towards the men's room for a few paces. Christine was again wearing her intense frown of deep thought, and trying to ignore her arousal.
At this point, Alan realized he'd probably been a little too cavalier about the whole situation, given the enemies he had. Wouldn't it be ironic if I go to the bathroom and a bunch of thugs come out of nowhere and beat me up? I can't just make this problem go away by pushing it out of my mind. Maybe she's too vigilant, but I'm probably not vigilant enough. There needs to be a balance. He looked around carefully and was relieved to see that the coast was clear.
Then she muttered, "You're a hopeless case, you know that?"
"Yep!" he admitted proudly. "Did I tell you why the dumb blonde sold her car?"
"No, but hold that thought, boob brain. We're at the men's room already. Can you hurry up so we can get out of here?"
"Sheesh. Okay, fine." He was going to be sarcastic, but realized that she was just trying to help him and he should be more appreciative of that.
"Just GO already!" She tapped her foot impatiently. "And yell if you have a problem."
He couldn't help but tease her some more, "Okay. But maybe you'd better come in, just to be on the safe side. That way, I don't have to yell. And it's probably better if you hold it for me while I pee, so I can remain fully alert to any danger."
She started to blush a deep red. "You wish."
He continued to tease, "Actually, I do."
She pushed him hard in the chest, sending him a couple of feet closer to the bathroom door. "GO, already!" She pushed him mostly to get him into the bathroom before he said anything more embarrassing, and even more arousing.
He was having a fun time. He walked into the bathroom and carefully checked the stalls, because he knew that's what she would want him to do. The coast was clear. Then he walked to the urinal and started to pee. He finished quickly and washed his hands.
When he walked back out, he sighed heavily, as if he'd just completed a difficult task. "Boy, I don't know how I made it through that. Especially the hand-washing part. It was all... like... complicated!" He gesticulated wildly with his hands to emphasize his frustration. "I don't know why, but all I could think about was beautiful women with big breasts." He stared very deliberately right at Christine's rack as he said this.
She was so embarrassed she wished that the Earth would open up and swallow her whole. But at the same time, she was excited and turned on by his obvious lusty attention.
He brought one of his hands up to his hair and stroked it. "How's my hair?" he asked with concern.
"Huh?"
"Am I turning blond? I feel all blond." He put on a stupid face.
Christine guffawed at that. She was also grateful for the shift of attention from her body. She teased, "How shall I kill you, Mr. Bond? Slow and torturous or fast and painless?"