White Chocolate: The Interracial Cuckold Collection by Lars Aimes

Author:Lars Aimes [Aimes, Lars]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Touchdown

Sitting in the VIP box, I listened to the game commentary from the live television field.

“Here we are with the final minute thirty of the fourth quarter. If you’re just joining us, the Broncos are down by six on the third down with six yards to go,” the sportscaster announced.

“They’re on the Patriot 43 yard line. This has got to be a stressful moment for quarterback Jaydee Thompson. A touchdown here would bring his team to the championship. On the other hand, there is enough time to probably walk this up the field and bring it in like this team has just been so good at doing all season long. The offensive team is in a huddle. This remarkable young man…,”

I smiled and tuned out the commentary, trying to enjoy this tense moment for what it was.

My team was about to make franchise history with its best season yet…if they could pull off a win here.

For the guys who sat near me taking little side bets as a joke, this was a bit of fun on the weekend. But for me, it meant a lot more than that.

I owned this team.

It was everything to me. I loved it as much as I loved my wife, Mona. And despite my reportedly vast wealth, the $2.3 billion price tag wasn’t something I considered paltry. It represented a huge cut of my finances and a real risk to the empire I had built up from nothing.

A full stadium of fans cheered my team – their team – on this blustery November day. My wife, Mona sat beside me holding my hand. Her wonderful young body helped to gain the attention of a sponsor’s CEO who happened to be in town this week. A glance over at his face showed that his eyes were fixed on her nice round cleavage rather than the play.

That was fine. Mona would be coming home with me after this and he would be left to play a different ball game with himself.

I tapped her shoulder as the play resumed on the field below. Mona turned her head to watch too.

From up here, the players looked small. I could see their individual numbers, make out names on the back of their jerseys. But for the life of me, I still had trouble connecting the huge athletic friendly young men that came over to my house for Sunday dinner with the hulking warriors in their equipment and white and brown jerseys.

“The ball is snapped to Thomas. He fades back. Pumping a fake and throws long towards Castillo…,” the TV drones. Everyone in the VIP room is standing up. My nose is to the window now as the ball arcs gently through the air.

Castillo is downfield, wide open and waiting for it. Shouts erupt all around me. This is it. We are going all the way this season.

Time slows down as the football comes down now. The cheering around me stops. The entire VIP booth is silent as a church on Friday night.

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