Are You Game?

Wild Card Weekend

Vince Lombardi, one of the NFL's greatest coaches, had said, "It is essential to understand that battles are primarily won in the hearts of men. Men respond to leadership in a most remarkable way and once you have won his heart, he will follow you anywhere." I hadn't fully realized the veracity of this statement until I experienced it for myself during the recent NFL Playoffs.

---Saturday

I headed over to my neighbor Ben's place to catch the first round of NFL Playoff games with him and a couple of his friends. I had met Ben at an association meeting for our building back at the beginning of the Pro Season and we hit it off right away. Within a couple of weeks, he convinced me switch to his gym so that we could work out together, which was beneficial for us both in terms of motivation and adherence to an exercise regimen. Our friendship evolved rather easily over the next few months, culminating to the point of either seeing each other, talking over the phone, or texting one another nearly every day. One of the most remarkable things about Ben is that he's the kind of guy that somehow manages to get along with everyone; it's a rare occasion when we go out in the neighborhood and he doesn't run into someone he knows. He's a lot of fun to be around because he has a great sense of humor and a genuine, affable manner. Like me, Ben is single, which is surprising because he's a real charming, good-looking guy. I'd say he's about 6' or so, enviably built with curly, dark blonde hair and blue eyes.

His buddies Erik and Joe were already at his place by the time I arrived for the first game, so I quickly grabbed a beer and joined them in discussing the merits of this year's teams. Apparently, Ben and Joe have been betting on the games for a few years now, initially for cash but had switched to doing 'favors' for each other, such as washing the winner's car or doing household repairs. Joe was obviously not fond of that kind of arrangement. "I'm not fixing any of your shit anymore," he grumbled and then listed his various chores from the previous year. "Your goddam Jacuzzi tub, your furnace, your fucking washing machine. Jesus, I even had to detail your car."

"Well," Ben replied, chuckling. "That's part of the fun of betting. It raises the stakes."

Joe shook his head in response. "Let's just do something quick and be done with it."

"I just don't think a cash prize is all that rewarding, really," Ben countered. "We need something that properly recognizes the dominance of the winner."

Joe smiled and regarded Ben for a moment. "I'm afraid to even

think

of what you might suggest."

"Oh, I'll come up with something," Ben said with a wink. "Just wait and see."

As the first game between Dallas and Seattle got underway, Ben sidled up next to me on the couch and draped his arm around my shoulders. "You know, the Cowboys haven't been doing too good this year."

"And yet here they are in the Playoffs," I refuted.

"As one of the wild cards," he clarified.

"It's all good," I replied, sipping my beer. "The Cowboys are gonna kick ass!"

Ben chuckled and reached for his own beer. "Todd, the only thing your Cowboys are gonna do with ass today is suck it!"

I shook my head as Joe and Erik backed him up with whoops and hollers. "You know, you can kiss my ass when they embarrass your Seahawks," I told him good-naturedly.

"Gladly," Ben replied with an indifferent shrug. "But when the Cowboys lose, you're gonna have to kiss

my

ass."

I laughed as he smiled at me. "Oh, I'm not worried," I told him in an attempt to surpass his conviction. "They're not gonna lose."

"Yeah, keep believing that, buddy," he taunted amicably and then turned to Erik and Joe. "Well, gentlemen, it looks like we have our first wager."

Joe emphatically shook his head. "No, that's between the two of you," he asserted. "Count me out."

The Seahawks scored the first touchdown, followed by another in the second quarter. By halftime, the Seahawks were ahead, 13 -- 7.

"Do you want some ChapStick or anything?" Ben asked me. "Because I really don't want anything rough on my ass."

"Don't get cocky," I cautioned calmly. "We still have the second half to go."

The Cowboys scored in the third quarter and managed a 30-yard field goal in the fourth, which effectively put them ahead. I was able to gloat a bit until the Seahawks scored again in the final few minutes, ending the game, 20 -- 17.

Once the clock ran out, Ben rose to his feet, clapping loudly. "Yeah, pucker up, buddy! Your Cowboys lost!" He slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his gym shorts and flashed me a wide grin. "You're going to enjoy this ... my butt is in pristine condition." He turned around and pushed his shorts down, exposing his smooth, round backside to view. I groaned aloud and buried my face in my hands. "Aw, don't be a sore loser," he cajoled. "A bet's a bet."

I muttered a protest and glanced over at Joe and Erik who only shrugged in return.

I heaved a sigh and I stared at his bare ass for a brief moment. "I'll get you back for this, you know that, right?"

"Okay, your lips are forming words right now, when they should be puckered and on my butt."

I grumbled and then leaned forward, placing my hands on his hips. I hesitated briefly before quickly kissing his right cheek and then slapping his left one. Ben whistled and pulled up his shorts while Erik applauded loudly.

"You guys are fucked up," Joe said, chuckling in spite of himself.

There weren't any other wagers during the second game since everyone was rooting for the Broncos, Ben's favorite team. The Broncos didn't disappoint, beating the Colts, 31 -- 12.

On the way to the door, Ben gave me a playful pat on the butt. "You're a good sport, buddy," he told me. "I appreciate that."

"Don't think I won't get you back," I warned him.

He flashed a bright smile and gave me a wink. "Lookin' forward to it."

---Sunday

I went over to Ben's place a little early the next day to catch some of the pre-game coverage. Joe arrived shortly after me and we sat and talked while Ben got on the phone to his parents.

Ben and Joe have been friends ever since high school where they played varsity football together. Joe went to college out-of-state but eventually moved back home a few years later and they quickly resumed their friendship. Joe's a little bit shorter than Ben and is a lean, wiry guy with an olive complexion and thick black hair that's beginning to recede a bit. He can be somewhat aloof and reserved initially but is pretty cool once he warms up. Although there is an obvious air of competitiveness between the two of them, you can tell that they treat each other as brothers.

Erik arrived shortly before kickoff with sandwiches and beer. As we all settled in, Ben began proselytizing at length about the superiority of the Dolphins over the Patriots. Yet once the game was underway, to Ben's chagrin, the Patriots quickly proved their skill and, by halftime, were ahead 21 -- 0.

"You're Dolphins are losing," Joe chastised Ben pointedly.

Ben simply shrugged in response, popping a handful of peanuts into his mouth. "Don't you worry, Joe, they'll catch up."

Towards the end of the third quarter, Miami managed to score once but were still significantly behind.

"How does your foot taste, Ben?" Joe asked. "You're not gagging on it, are you?"

"I never gag," Ben replied, "on anything."

"Aw, man, I should have bet you on this one," I groused, feeling that I had missed my opportunity to get back at him for yesterday.

"It's not too late," Ben said, nudging my leg with his knee. "There are still a few minutes left in the third and the whole fourth to go. Why not make it interesting?"

"What do you suggest?" I asked.

"His foot

literally

in his own mouth," Joe proposed, chuckling to himself.

Ben shook his head dismissively and then turned back to me. "You got any better ideas?"

"

Todd's

foot in your mouth," Joe amended quickly.

"What do you think, bud?" Ben asked me, nudging me with his shoulder. "You want me to suck your toes if the Dolphins lose?"

I smiled, grateful for the opportunity that had presented itself. "My toes? No, I think you should suck my

dick

."

Ben's eyes went wide as Joe's mouth dropped open. I glanced over at Erik and we both busted up laughing.

"Be careful, buddy," Ben cautioned. "Don't propose anything you aren't willing to do yourself."

I laughed and extended my hand. "I'm not worried. Can you say the same?"

Ben grasped my hand firmly and pulled me towards him. "I'm really going to enjoy the sight of my dick in your mouth," he said in a low, confident tone.

"I don't think so," I stammered under his steady gaze. "I think it's going to be the other way around."

"Oh, you think so?" Ben countered, smirking. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see then."

My smile faltered a bit as we shook hands, then we both reached for our beers and turned back to the game.

The Dolphins scored at top of the fourth and were headed for their third touchdown in the last few minutes, which would've effectively tied the game, when they fumbled. New England scored a 3-point field goal after they got possession and ended up winning the game, 24 -- 14.

Joe, Erik and I cheered loudly and gave each other a round of high-fives.

"Well, it appears as though your Dolphins lost," Joe observed with amusement. "So? Now what do you have to say?"

Ben set his beer down and casually stood up. "Alright, come on, whip it out," he said to me. "I'll give it a good lick."

"What?!" Joe exclaimed. "You're not serious!"

"Wait, hold on," I said to Ben. "I was only kidding."

Ben positioned himself directly in front of me and folded his arms across his chest. "I've got the balls to follow through, Todd. Do you?"

"Yeah, I got the balls," I replied defiantly, calling what I thought was a bluff. "In fact, you can lick them as well."

He shrugged. "Alright, let's get to it then." I exchanged a look with Erik. "Well?"

I stared back at him and started to hesitantly undo my pants, wondering just how far we would take this before one of us conceded.

"No fucking way!" Joe gaped.

Ben watched me closely as I slowly unzipped my pants. The excited post-game cheering filled the silence, as if the entire stadium of fans were lending their support. I stared back at Ben as I lifted my shirt and then hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. A sudden and unexpected thrill consumed me, which permitted me to push my underwear down and expose my thickening dick.

Ben nodded approvingly and dropped to one knee in front of me. My heart was pounding wildly against my chest and the rushing blood had begun to inflate my dick, which slowly lengthened and stretched itself out over my hip. From the corner of my eye, I could see Erik straining in his seat to get a better view.

Ben regarded my growing erection for a moment with genuine interest. "Nice, man," he acknowledged. "You're packing a real choker there, aren't you?"

I blushed and felt my dick stretch a bit more.

"You ready for this?" Ben asked as he placed his hands on my knees and spread my legs open for easier access. He then lowered his face toward my lap and watched me closely as he gently blew warm air into my groin. I tightened my grip on my underwear as my dick responded by becoming fully rigid. Then he opened his mouth and, in one smooth motion, slowly and firmly dragged the flat surface of his wet tongue over my ball sack and up the entire length of my shaft all the way up to the tip. The muscles in my groin contracted at the end, causing my dick to jump and tap him on the chin.

Ben straightened up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Nothin' to it."

"Oh, my god!" Joe squirmed, nearly falling out of his chair.

I quickly redressed, feeling my face flush with warmth as Erik whistled and applauded. Ben stood for a moment in front of me, smiling at my embarrassment.

"Oh, my god!" Joe repeated loudly. "I can't believe you did that! What? Are you fucking

gay

?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I am," Ben replied as he strode casually toward the kitchen. "I licked a dick so I guess I'm gay now."

"Jesus! If you do anything gay, then you're gay!"

"Oh, is that how that works?" Ben laughed, returning from the kitchen with a handful of beers. "Lighten up, man. It's not that big a deal." He handed each of us a bottle and then reclaimed his seat. "Good game," he said to me, toasting his beer.

"Dude, I can't believe you did that," Joe muttered, shaking his head.

"What's the big deal, Joe?" Ben asked.

"You licked his fucking dick!"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Ben replied. "It's not. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Besides, guys give better head to other guys anyway. Believe me."

There was a moment of silence as Ben tilted his head back and took a swig of beer.

"What are you talking about?" Joe inquired. "How the hell would you know?"

Ben glanced patiently at him for a few seconds until Joe's mouth slowly dropped open.

"No fucking way!" Joe squealed. "You've had a guy suck your dick?!"

Erik leaned forward in his seat. "Seriously?"

"Yep," Ben replied somewhat proudly. "Guys know how to do it right because they know what feels good. Most girls really don't have a clue. It's like they're licking a fucking ice cream cone or something. It's sad."

"When did you ... when did this ... happen?" Joe stammered.

Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You guys really want to know?"

Erik raised his hand. "I do."

Ben glanced over at me, gauging my interest. I shrugged, feeling the tent in my pants suddenly begin to return. "A couple years back," he began, "I went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras with some buddies. We hit Bourbon Street the first night and got totally hammered. At one of the bars, I went to take a piss and the guy at the urinal next to me kept looking at my dick. I asked him if he liked what he saw and he said he did and asked if he could suck it. So I let him."

Erik and I exchanged a look. "Wait. He blew you in the bathroom?" I asked.

Ben nodded and took a swig of beer. "Of course."

"The guy blew you in the bathroom?" Joe repeated loudly. "What the hell kind of bar was this?"

"Brace yourself, Joe," Ben cautioned, resting his hand on Joe's knee and continuing in a whisper. "It was a

gay

bar."

Joe nearly jumped to his feet. "

A gay bar

? What the fuck were you doing in

a gay bar

?"

Ben chuckled and reclined back against the couch. "It was an idea of one of the guys. Apparently, a friend of his had gone to one of the gay bars before and got sucked off. The guy told us it would be a hoot and that, you know, it would be kind of an initiation for all of us. It turned out he was right. Before the night was over, we all got blowjobs."

Joe stared at him. "From the same guy?"

"No," Ben said, rolling his eyes. "Different guys. It was a gay bar. There wasn't just

one

there."

"Oh, my god, I don't believe it," Joe muttered.

"Oh, come on, Joe," Ben cajoled. "What's the big deal? We were in New Orleans for Mardi Gras -- you're supposed to do crazy shit. That's what makes it fun. Besides, it's a helluva lot easier to get a gay guy to blow you than a girl."

Joe blinked at Ben a few times and then sat back shaking his head.

Erik casually prompted Ben to continue. "What was it like?"

"Oh, man, it was fuckin' AWESOME!" Ben declared. "I tell you, it was the best blowjob I've ever had in my life! This guy sucked on my dick like it was candy-coated. It was so fucking hot!"

"What exactly did he do?" Erik coyly inquired. "Maybe I can give my wife some tips."

"You want me to describe his technique?" Ben asked.

Joe groaned loudly and sank deeper into his chair.

"Cover your ears then, you big wuss," Ben said, throwing a cushion at him and then turned back to Erik. "Alright, well, first of all, he created this kind of, like, suction with his mouth as he'd pull back and he also used his hand, you know, and was sliding it along my shaft, so he was sucking and stroking my dick at the same time. And it was a little aggressive, you know? I mean, he wasn't teasing it like girls do. I mean, he was pulling on my dick like he was milking it for the cum."

"Well ... did you?" I prodded, my balls and hard dick buzzing in anticipation. "Did you cum?"

"Fuck, yeah, I did. I practically blew him across the room," Ben said and we all busted up laughing. "Oh, man, I tell you, my jizz went

everywhere

... in his mouth, all over his face and shirt. He was covered in it."

"Then what happened?" Erik prompted.

"Well, then he thanked me. And I was, like, 'Shit, buddy, thank

you

.' He asked if I'd ever done that before and I said 'not with a guy' and he said that he figured as much. I guess he and his friends had pretty much sized us all up when we walked in the door." Ben chuckled at the recollection. "Then when we came out of the bathroom, all of his friends started cheering him. They were like, 'Whoa, that guy blew a real big load on you!' It was awesome."

"What did your friends say?" I asked.

"They thought it was hilarious. They kept asking me what it was like and I told them they should try it for themselves. And they did. And after each time, we bought the cocksucker a shot. You know, to wash it all down."

Erik smiled and nodded his head in approval. "That's pretty cool."

"Yeah," Ben agreed. "I highly recommend it."

"Okay," Joe interjected after a brief moment of silence. "

Now

can we get back to the game?"

The second match was between Philadelphia and, ironically enough, New Orleans. Everyone was rooting for the Eagles so, initially, there weren't any wagers.

"You ever been to Mardi Gras?" Ben asked me. I indicated that I hadn't with a shake of my head. "One of the wild things to do there is to flash your wares for a string of beads."

I nodded. "Yeah, I actually knew that."

"Okay, good," he replied. "Well, usually, it's the women who flash their tits, but, sometimes, you know, guys are asked to flash their dicks. Parity and equal opportunity, you see."

"Of course," I laughed.

"Well, then it sort of became a joke between us guys -- whenever some guy was talking shit we'd interrupt him by saying, 'shut up and show us your dick'. Or, if someone was being a real chickenshit about something," Ben said as he glanced at Joe, "we'd tell him to shut up and show us his balls."

"Oh, so that's where that stupid phrase came from," Joe concluded.

"What? I never told you about that?" Ben asked.

"No," Joe replied adamantly. "And it was so fucking annoying. Whatever you guys do," he cautioned Erik and I, "don't say it to him because he

will

do it."

"What?" I asked deliberately. "Shut up and show us your cock?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Ben stood up and pulled down his shorts, exposing himself to the room.

Joe grimaced, holding out his hands in an attempt to obstruct the view. "Aw, man! Knock it off!"

Ben pulled his shorts back up and reclaimed his seat with a chuckle. The game concluded soon after with the Eagles on top, 24 -- 20.

In bed later that night, I found it difficult to fall asleep. I couldn't stop thinking about all that had transpired earlier in the day. I'm pretty sure that it's not very common for male friends to go around licking each other's dicks on a dare, so I was intrigued as to why Ben had done so to me without any reservation. It might have been a completely different story had it occurred in private, but the fact that it happened at all was confusing and ... inexplicably arousing.