Date: Sat, 14 Oct 2000 14:28:17 EDT
From: Sue D'Nimm
Subject: An Insider's Guide to Football

An Insider's Guide to Football

by

Sue D'Nimm


Kermit Washington just about took Lyle Quivers' head off when he decided to
pass up the fair catch and field the punt.  The crowd went wild at that,
especially when Lyle didn't get up for thirty seconds.  So we were going to
get the ball for the first time on our own five yard line.  Nice field
position.  At least they hadn't scored on us yet.  Thank god Jeffries
couldn't catch a pass to save his life.

As Jimmy Ray pulled on his helmet to trot onto the field, one of the Cowboy
cheerleaders untied her top and flashed her wide brown areolas at him.  I
wondered what Maddon would have to say about that up in booth, assuming the
good old national TV cameras had been running at the right time to catch
all the action.

"What do you think of those, Jimmy Ray Bob?" the girl asked him as he
trotted past her and onto the field.

The bitch was wasting her time.  She wasn't in Jimmy Ray Bob Talbot's
league.  I should know.  I'm Jimmy Ray's main go-to party guy.

I trotted out on the field after him and joined him in the huddle.  He
rested his hand gently on the small of my back as he called the first play,
an off-tackle trap.  We broke and headed for the line of scrimmage.

Daryl Anderson was standing back in his linebacker position, grinning as
always.  "Fuck you, Seahawks," he said.  The guy was a hopeless moron.

I crouched down to face Roosevelt Watters for the first snap of the day.
His eyes were dark menacing orbs peering up through the rungs of his
helmet.  They looked like the lost moons of a planet forsaken by God.

I wasn't really looking forward to this.  Well, maybe just a little bit.

Jimmy Ray's hand came up under my crotch and pressed against my balls.  I
hadn't worn my protective cup today, so I could feel his exquisite hands as
they lay against my privates.  There was a reason I had chosen to play
center, and it had nothing to do with the thrill of getting my head ripped
off by the likes of Rosie Watters.

I wriggled my ass so that Jimmy Ray's hands were pressed even tighter
against my throbbing balls.  He moved his hands into my pulsating organ as
he began the count.  I snapped him the ball on three and Rosie came
charging at me, throwing a forearm straight into my neck.  I pushed him to
the right, away from Royers, who was carrying the ball into the hole
created on my left.  Unfortunately the rightside linebacker had plugged the
hole and managed to slam Royers to the turf after a lousy two-yard gain.
The crowd went wild.

This time in the huddle, Jimmy Ray had his hand right on my ass, his
fingers probing my cleft.  I sure hoped the cameras weren't doing any
close-ups right then.  Thank god for instant replays.  I rested my hand on
Modewleski's back, but he was never able to really get into the spirit of a
nice tight huddle.  This time the booth upstairs radioed a quick flare-out
pass play into the microphone in Jimmy Ray's helmet.  He called the play,
and we broke the huddle.

I wiggled my ass four times to afford Jimmy Ray better access to my
privates.  This time I returned Roosevelt Watters's glare in equal measure.

"I'm gonna knock your head off, Lennox," he told me as he got into a
three-point stance.

"See you after the game, pussy, when this zebra won't be around to protect
you," I whispered, indicating the line judge with a shift of my eyes.  "You
gonna meet us, Rosie?  Or are you too chickenshit?"

"Any time, any place, Lennox.  I wouldn't miss it for the world," he
replied, just as I snapped the ball into Jimmy Ray's waiting hands.

Somehow Rosie managed to leap over me and tackle Jimmy Ray before he could
even drop back in the pocket.  As usual, the assembled multitude of Dallas
morons roared their approval.

Before Rosie climbed off of Jimmy Ray, I heard him say, "Tonight, I'm gonna
make you my woman, faggot."

I picked Rosie off Jimmy Ray and shoved him in the direction of the
defensive huddle.

"Just be there," Jimmy Ray told him.  "Bring some of your boys if you don't
think you can handle it by yourself."  Jimmy Ray could be awfully brave
knowing I'd be there standing in front of him if things got really rough.

"Oh I won't need any of those pussies.  I'm gonna give you two fairies a
good licking all by myself," Rosie said, as he walked back toward us,
pointing his finger.

"We can't wait," Jimmy Ray said.

"Just be there," I said and turned around to walk back to the huddle.
Third and eleven.  It was going to be a very long game indeed.


When crunch time finally came, I once again gazed into Rosie Watters' cold
eyes.  They were all business.  There was no reprieve written in those
eyes.  As I predicted, Jimmy Ray was standing behind me, with my body
interposed like a knight's shield between his diminutive frame and Watters'
hulking torso.

Rosie flexed his massive biceps and said, "You about ready for that licking
yet, Lennox?"

"Show me what you got, Watters.  Come on, bring it on!" I said, extending
my neck, ready to take the worst he could dish out.

His tongue felt almost raspy, like a cat's, as it played over my earlobe
and neck.  As it entered my auditory canal, I knew Rosie would be as good
as his promise.  This was going to be quite a licking indeed.

I felt Jimmy Ray's familiar hands on my naked balls as I assumed the
position.  It was my turn to count this time.  "Eighty-four, green,
thirty-two, HIKE!" I said, and right on cue Jimmy Ray rammed his rock hard
cock into my ass, plunging it in right up to the hilt.  I cried out in both
pain and pleasure as my knees were driven into the plush hotel room carpet.

A split second later, Rosie charged, ramming his sheathed cock straight
into my mouth.  I deep throated him, letting the wide black tip brush aside
my uvula on its way toward my stomach.  My lips closed tightly around his
girth as he thrust brutally into me.

While these two gorgeous ballplayers were fucking both ends of my
alimentary canal as hard as they could, Jimmy Ray continued to play with my
tightening balls and Rosie stretched out across my naked back and reached
under me to tweak the head of my shaft as I continued to suck him for all I
was worth.

Even as Jimmy Ray continued to pound his way into my ass, both he and Rosie
lifted me into the air and flipped me over.  Jimmy Ray was beneath me now,
his sweet cock never leaving my ass, his precious hand never leaving my
balls as he continued to thrust into me from below.  Rosie was lying on top
of me, his massive cock having rotated in my mouth so that his balls now
rested on the bridge of my nose rather than battering against my chin.
Rosie's hand on my cock was replaced his eager mouth as we began to
sixty-nine each other, my naked flesh sandwiched between Jimmy Ray's hard
body and Rosie's expansive, hairless, heavily muscled chest.  If only
pileups during the game could be like this.  I would never retire.

Rosie swallowed my prick as I sucked his, and Jimmy Ray continued to pound
his sweet way inside my ass, until all three of us came at once, Jimmy Ray
squeezing my leaping balls with those talented rookie-of-the-year hands as
I spent in Rosie's mouth at the same time as he spent in mine.

We all three just lay there then, panting, and I felt I finally knew the
answer to Paula Cole's plaintive musical question.  I knew where all the
cowboys had gone.  You just had to get on down to Dallas.  As Michael Irvin
proved long ago, those guys always know how to party.