Torso Tackle

Chapter 3: Unexpected Kiss

Chapter 3: Unexpected Kiss

Jory throws a long pass at Walker, who is open on the forty yard line, and the crowd goes wild when the Vanmer Vipers score another touchdown, walking away with the game. Blue and gold colors wave in the outside bleachers. Roars are heard all over the city. A giant LCD screen behind and above the goalposts catch a shot of Jory smiling from ear to ear in his helmet, proud of his performance, finding joy in pleasuring his football fans.

A minute later number five on the team, a sexy tight-bottomed Rock Carson, kicks a field goal, adding one more point to the Vipers’ score. Again, the Saturday afternoon crowd goes wild in the bleachers, cheering at the top of their voices, witnessing another October weekend of fun-filled football and the Vipers edging their way into a divisional championship.

The opposing team, the Milford Marlins, grows angrier by the minute. No longer can their head quarterback throw well with his fractured wrist. Nor can his sidearm run, due to a twisted right ankle. The Vipers have successfully taken down their rival team, depleting its players one by one, and play by play.

Ben leans into me and jollily confesses, “It pays to be the quarterback’s therapist, Sebastian. These seats are awesome.”

We sit side by side at the fifty yard line, three seats back from the Vipers. In truth, the seats are incredible. If I didn’t work for Jory Sole, Ben and I wouldn’t be enjoying the great seats, or this home game between the Vipers and the Marlins.

Today is guys’ day out, which Ben and I sometimes accomplish together. Zoe, his girlfriend of two years, usually goes shopping in the downtown district with her gal pals, which leaves me with some “alone time” with her sexy model boyfriend, and all the beer he and I can drink without getting totally blitzed.

It’s too late for Ben to be worried about getting blitzed. He’s on his ninth beer and smaassshed. Zoe might be pissed to learn about this, of course, since they have dinner plans with her parents later, but I’ll at least make sure he gets back to our apartment safe and sound, without a public display of intoxication fine strapped to his ass.

As expected, the Marlins fumble the ball and the Vipers run with it. Matty Darling, a beautiful blond piece of meat with a fuckable ass, weaves down the field. Three yards from his score he is power driven to the ground by a pissed Marlin, which causes the Vipers’ fans to boo and hiss with outrage.

With less than a minute left in the game, Jory hikes the football. He looks to his left and right, but doesn’t see a teammate to pass it off to. Instead, before being sacked, he rushes forward two yards, leaps over a tank-sized Marlin, and scores yet again for the Vipers; bringing the crowd to their feet and loudest roar, winning the game with a final score of 24 to 3.

Ben is so excited with the win, and drunk of course, he faces me and screams like a Viking at war. He reaches for my chin with his strong palms, holds my face still, and plants a masculine kiss on my parted lips.

I swear his tongue darts into my mouth, but I can’t really prove it. The man-connection is short and intense, but sloppy. Honestly, I don’t know whether to be flattered by his beer-kiss or grossed out. Does the intoxicated fool even know what he has just done to me?

None of it matters, especially since it’s just about being a guy today and enjoying beer and the game. I pass off his kiss as playful and innocent, practically carry him to my truck after the game, and make sure that he doesn’t vomit or pass out until we get back to our apartment.