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Going Deep

Football, football, football! Eight months a year—football. Beautiful, African American, Carla is soooo sick of football, she throws a fit. The problem is, Joey, her white live-in boyfriend is an assistant football coach with the local NFL team and watching football games is not only part of his job, it’s a must. Out of necessity, he comes up with an ingenious plan in the form of a football connected sex-game, the results of which have energized their sex life to the boiling point. Now Carla not only enjoys watching football with Joey, she can’t wait for the games to begin.


Carla stared at me through lowered eyebrows. She lowered her chin and pinched her lips into a pucker. "Sounds interesting. I'm listening."

"Okay, this football game has barely started and the score is tied." I stared at Carla and counted the items she was wearing. "Assuming you're wearing a bra and panties, you're wearing seven items. I'll put on seven items to match you so we both start with the same amount."

Carla's nostrils flared and her gaze grew serious. "I don't get it."

"You will and you'll love it. I'll flip a coin to see what team each of us roots for. When either team scores—any score—one of us takes off an item of clothing. If your team scores, I take off an item and vice versa. If it's a high scoring game and one of us runs out of clothing, the other has the option of stopping right then as the winner.

"That would be me, As soon as you were buck naked, I'd turn off the TV. That does sound like an improvement, but playing strip football isn't enough to make me want to watch a game with you."

"Let me finish, there's more. After the game ends, we go in the bedroom and have hot passionate sex. The one whose team wins the football game or stopped our game would be in charge. If my team wins, we do whatever I want. If you stop the game or if your team wins, you're the boss. What'dya think?"
Carla cocked her head to one side. She was apparently thinking of all the delicious things she could do to me or make me do to her because a lop-sided smile formed on her lips.

"If we do this, I can do whatever I want with you—anything?
"If your team wins, yes. But if my team wins, the shoe is on the other foot and I have the power."

Carla apparently wasn't wearing a bra after all, because slowly the nipples on her beautiful upright breasts began to harden and push against her flimsy tee shirt. "All right, but if your team wins, you can't do anything to me that's painful or to which I have a strong objection."

"Fair enough. I'll get dressed."

"I'll go with you. We'll watch the game in the bedroom."

She watched me for a sign of objection, since the biggest and clearest TV was in the living room, but I didn't care. The idea of Fantasy Fuck Football was suddenly becoming more appealing to me than the game itself. She smiled when I took her hand and led her into the bedroom.

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