Third and 10 from their own 47 yard line. The Knights are going to need a large chunk of yardage just to put their new kicker into a reasonable position for success. You know, chip, there couldn't be a worse time for Zagreb to be injured.'
'You're right, Bill. You just know Zagreb is sitting at home on pins and needles for his team's playoff chances.'
The large-screen television softly droned on about the Knights-Sabres game. Both teams were fighting for the league's final playoff berth, a bitter fact after the way the Knights had begun the first half of the season undefeated.
Tanya Clinton grabbed the nearby remote control and raised the volume. She froze the picture on the screen at the exact moment her husband Roderick slammed the Knight's quarterback onto the frozen turf, driving the wind from him and preventing the acquisition of yardage the Knights needed to even attempt the game-winning field goal. All that was left was to go for broke on fourth down.
"Bastard!" Milorad Zagreb paused in his thrusting to hurl an angry epithet at the man frozen on the screen. Roderick Clayton had just effectively ended the Knights' season, depriving Milorad of any chance of making the quotas he needed for a nearly $2 million bonus from the Knights.
Milorad hated Roderick Clinton with a passion at that moment. He tightened his grip on Roderick's wife Tanya and jackhammered into her with all the force his 165 pounds could manage. Men like Roderick tended to discount men like him, Zagreb thought. They didn't realize that a lifetime of kicking footballs had crafted thigh muscles rivaled only by Olympic sprinters and speedskaters.
"Ugh...ugh...ugh..." Zagreb's rhythmic grunts drowned out the two commentators' call of fourth-down. It hardly mattered. Again Roderick Clinton swooped in from his outside linebacker position and forced the Knights' quarterback to toss a weak throw that was easily intercepted and downed.
The Knights' season was over.
Zagreb hurled a string of particularly nasty curse words at the big screen television. If there had been a handy object nearby, he would have hurled that at the television as well. Instead, he roughly grabbed a handful of Tanya Clinton's expensive weave and jerked her head back.
The kicker wrapped his hand about her throat and squeezed lightly, using the gesture to anchor her in place for his thrusts. "Fuck...fuck...fuck..." Zagreb continued to curse. All his anger and frustration was transmitted to the cadence of his strokes until finally, with a snarl, he began to climax. Zagreb withdrew from Tanya's warmth and slid the condom from his throbbing penis. He clenched his teeth at the pleasure of it all as he ejaculated all over her back and ass. And just for good measure, the Knights' kicker sent a few spurts of thick white semen onto the expensive black sheets of Roderick Clinton's' bed.
Tonya Clinton collapsed onto the bed as soon as Zagreb released her. Ignoring her weak protests, The kicker rolled her over onto her back. "Milo, I'm going to have to wash the sheets now," she whined. Roderick preferred his sheets laundered. Tonya would have to hurry to wash them and remake the bed before he returned home from the stadium.
"So wash them," Zagreb replied. "But first," he straddled her body, "sit up and lick me clean."
Zagreb winced at the rasp of Tanya's tongue against the sensitive head of his penis. The pleasure/pain only added to the peculiar thrill he felt at imagining Rodrick Clinton triumphantly greeting his wife with a kiss after the Sabres' victory. He wondered how the 6'5", 295 pound linebacker would feel if he knew that he was essentially sucking Zagreb's dick.
The thought made him smile. It was almost enough to make up for the money he'd lost.
"Because of this win, the Sabres go on the road next week," Zagreb noted. "I'll have you to myself for four days."
"Probably not." Tanya rose from the bed and began to wipe herself off with the satin sheets. "I have never been to Chicago," she said. "That's Roderick's hometown, you know? I think I am going to ask him if I can go."
"Ask if you can go?"
Tanya began to strip the bed. She tugged at the sheets beneath Zagreb, frowning when he made no move to cooperate. "Ask if you can go," he repeated slowly. "Why would you wish to go anywhere with this man?" Zagreb sat up. "When the football season is over and I am able to travel, I will take you to my hometown, show you where I spent my days as a boy."
"I'm sorry," Tanya raised a brow, " but aren't you from one of those countries where people throw rocks trying to kill each other?"
"Things are getting better there."
"Uh-huh. Anyway," Tanya shrugged,"you and I will be done when the season's over. Its been fun and all but when the season is over, Roderick has time for me again. It's really nice. We travel all over, do fun things together. He's the man I married ten years ago."
Zagreb stared at her, so casually dismissing him from her life. They had been together on the sly since he hurt his foot in week six of the season. The Knights began their downward slide not long afterward. Zagreb's only consolation was the knowledge that he was boning the wife of the League's premier defensive player.
"Just like that, we're over."
"Oh, Milo! Come on. I would never leave Roderick. He's the star of the league. You're-"
"Just a kicker?
Tanya shrugged. "Well...yeah." She gathered up the soiled sheets. "Don't take it personal."
Zagreb watched her walk out of the bedroom. His anger was so great that Zagreb shook with its intensity. "Don't take it personal. Alright, bitch."
The kicker rooted around in Roderick Clinton's dresser drawers until he found some writing papers and a pen. Staring at the door Tanya had exited through, Zagreb began to write furiously.
Hello, Roderick Clinton. I am the man who has been screwing your wife most of this season. As I lay here in your bed, with those tacky ass black sheets, I have to laugh. Tanya tells me you got dick like little kid...
