We’re really getting into the game now.“Alright, what is it you want me to do?” you say with a small scowl as we settle back down.“Masturbate....��“Fine,” you say with a sigh after a small start.“But you’re not allowed to cum until someone scores.”“You’re evil, but at the rate this game is going I won’t even be close to cumming by the time someone scores,” you respond, as you plant your feet on the edge of the couch and slide your hips forward.The Football Gods seem to be enjoying our game because. The wind sometimes tossing it up against the glass, like a woman throwing up her hands and hitting the wall behind her as her lover forces her up against it. Giving in, submitting to it, and trailing downwards in wetness.The impending darkness of the dusk was creeping in, curling around everything like slinky tendrils of fog, and encompassing everything in it's path. It did so slowly, inconspicuously, purposefully, like a sly wolf stalking it's prey.The coolness of the new autumn air and the. More

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