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Super Bowl LII - A Work of Satire Part 1: Pregame
Thursday, February 1, 2018
He zipped his parka and pulled the hood tight as he stepped out of the hotel and headed north. Keeping his head down, he joined the Hennepin Avenue pedestrians waiting for the light on 8th Street, the State Theater on his right. Up ahead he noticed an entrance to the famous Minneapolis skyway system. On a cold February day, the heat in the skyway was tantalizing, and it called to him. Regretfully, he knew, he wouldn't be able to enter it. First of all, it didn't go where he was going, and second of all, he was on a timeline. He'd been attending meetings with millionaires and billionaires all week, and more tonight. For many of them, he was the most important attendee. It's not like he could skip.
It was Super Bowl week. And as the league commissioner, he had to be there.
He crossed Hennepin on 6th Street and saw the sign for Gay 90s a couple blocks ahead. That wasn't his destination though; he could never go in there -- he'd be recognized in seconds. Granted, it was a gay bar, but Minneapolis was a football town. He'd been recognized on the streets a dozen or more times this week. He pulled his hood down further over his eyebrows, shuddering at the thought.
But as the commissioner crossed the light rail tracks on 5th Street, his goal was before him, just before the Gay 90s, and his cock stiffened in anticipation. Minneapolis was not a gay man's dream town. There were few options for anonymous fun -- in fact there was really only one option. Adult Boutique.
The bell rang as he walked in. The scent of sterile sex store washed over him and he immediately looked to his left, so as not to be recognized by the attendee sitting behind the counter on the right. He didn't need to waste time assessing the lay of the land. He'd visited Minneapolis enough to know where to find the stairs to the "lower level of lust", as he liked to call it. By now his cock was rock hard in his pants. As he descended the stairs and his eyes adjusted to the seedy red darkness, he noted with pleasure that there were a lot of men milling around, and many of them appeared to be hard-bodied studs. Still worried about being recognized, he put on his sunglasses, cliche as it was, and stepped forward towards the booths.
He found an empty booth -- there was only one left -- and stepped in, pulling out a wad of twenties. He feed eight of them into the machine and started to get comfortable. He quickly had all of his clothes removed and folded neatly on the chair, and sat on them, wearing only his shoes.
Fiddling with the channel selector on the porn machine, a light caught his eye, and to his surprise, it came from a glory hole to the adjoining booth! He recalled no such thing on any of his previous visits, and a drop of precum formed at the end of his uncut cock. He pumped it a couple times and a small dribble rolled down the fat head, where he scooped it up with his thumb and sucked it like a pacifier, moaning with pleasure.
Kneeling at the hole, the dark brown finger of a black man poked through to his side. Minneapolis had plenty of black people these days, but wouldn't it be funny if this was the finger of a football player, coming for a feeding a few days before the big game? He smiled at the thought. There were plenty of hot looking guys on the Packers and Patriots teams. He would enjoy the picture his imagination painted when this black cock filled his throat. He knew, at least, it wasn't that fucker, Tom Brady!
The finger wagged impatiently, but Roger wasn't here to get his dick sucked. He'd always been self-conscious about it. Yes, it had a nice fat head that always caused a gasp when it popped into his wife's juicy cunt. The the shaft was disproportionately skinny, though, and he worried the black stud on the other side of the wall would walk out if he stuck his unimpressive cock through. Instead, he wrapped his lips around the man's finger, sucking it seductively and tightly. Like a hungry fish, his lips pulled more and more of it into his mouth, and he bobbed his head back and forth.
The guy pulled his finger back and Roger immediately wiggled his own finger at the rim of the hole. Wasting no time, the man stood up, unzipped, and slid his pants down. What appeared made Roger's eyes bug out. It was as thick as a can of beer. And the length! If a child's Barbie doll danced with it, she'd still have to look "up" into its eyes -- or rather, eye. It flopped between his dark legs and swayed back and forth, before he wrapped his hand around it and pumped. Jesus, was this a football player? Eddie Lacy? Dont'a Hightower? No. LaGarrette Blount. That deep dark chocolate morsel would be the perfect fiction, feeding his fantasy. His cock pulsed at the thought.
LaGarrette's cock was pointing straight at him now, and slowly coming closer. Would that fucker even fit through the hole? It poked through and Roger opened his mouth and sucked in the head. His jaw stretched impossibly as the thick black cock slid by his teeth. Roger's eyes watered as they rolled in the back of his head. After a year of waiting, his hunger was finally being fed. He was hoping to swallow a gallon or more of hot cum today. He only wished he could fulfill his fantasy of taking thick anonymous loads up his tight hole. Some things were just too dangerous.
He felt a couple big veins on the cock, and his tongue did its best to swirl around the fat head. The monster was pushing at the back of his throat and he shifted his position to allow the snake to plunge down. His nose was poking through the hole, and he shuddered as he heard LaGarrette groan.
"Yeah, bro, suck that fucking thing," the man said. Roger immediately wanted him to shut up because his voice ruined the fantasy. That definitely wasn't LaGarrette's deep sexy voice.
Roger pulled off the throbbing beast. "Face fuck me," he panted, and grabbed the fire hose and worked to take it right back down his throat.
The guy got the idea quickly, and with Roger's face against the hole, the black lover started pumping with abandon. Roger's throat opened and closed to accommodate the black cock as he struggled to keep his teeth from scraping the skin.
Suddenly he felt something probing his asshole! He almost gagged as he choked on the dark invader. He must have forgotten to lock the door, or maybe subliminally he did not forget at all. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw movement, possibly a crowd outside his door, and at least one man kneeling in his doorway. Roger shifted his ass to allow the man easier access to his tunnel. Roger couldn't stop focusing on LaGarrette's fat cock without choking to death, so he didn't realize at first the other man push several fingers up his ass. His hips gyrated on their own, capturing the fingers and fucking them like a boy cock. The only effect was to make Roger want something bigger, much much bigger!
Roger suddenly felt LaGarrette's cockhead starting to flare in his throat. He knew it was almost feeding time. He pulled off the salami and grabbed it with both hands, sucking just the tip of the head. Not a drop was going to be spilled from this sexy fucker, he thought. It only took a couple pumps of the fat black PVC pipe before the first shot blew to the back of his throat. He kept pumping, and, like a machine gun, the pecker fired bullet after bullet of hot creamy seed. Roger had to work hard to not swallow as his cheeks started to balloon out.
Finally the dark octopus arm quit spraying and Roger let it slip from his mouth. He swirled what felt like a half cup of cum around his tongue and threw his head back, savoring the flavor. As he reached for his phone, he stuck his tongue out, cum dripping from the tip back into his mouth.
The bright flash of the camera-phone momentarily lit up the entire cellar, causing a few groans from the bystanders. But the rules were clear. A snapshot of every load, the photo sent to a number he did not recognize, but trusted. Same routine, different year.
Finally, he swallowed, a loud "ahhhh" emitting from his happy throat. He took another photo with LaGarrette's shrinking but still huge cock against his tongue. They loved to see the source of the loads. Roger noticed a dribble of leftover cum sliding down the fat black dick, and quickly sucked it down, with a loud "smack".
Roger sat back on his haunches, the fingers invading his hole momentarily slipped out. He turned around and noticed another hole on the other wall, and a nicely sized white cock, hard as steel, and pointing straight up, poking through.
He pounced on it. Giant cocks often don't even get all the way hard. This guy's cock, conversely, could drill through concrete. He stood to give his knees a rest, bending over at the hips. This made his ass exposed right next to the open door, and as he wrapped his lips around the steaming cock, he felt a tongue push into his asshole. It drilled him like a jackhammer and the guy, or maybe a different guy, reached under him and kindly pumped his hard cock. Roger felt the drip, drip, drip of precum flowing from his skinny cock onto the sticky floor.
Roger knew this cock in his mouth wasn't going to last long. Presumably he'd been watching him work on the the thick black cock and was edging for a while. To extend the man's pleasure, Roger worked him more gently, tickling his balls and lightly scraping his lips up and down the root of the shaft.
Then he felt the tongue withdraw from his puckered asshole, and something large pressing against his rosebud. Roger pulled off the cock in his mouth and looked back. The hispanic man behind him was getting ready to push a thick cock up his hole.
"You need a condom," Roger said.
The man said nothing, only chuckled and pushed Roger's head back onto the rock hard cock sticking out of the hole. When Roger felt the thick head pushing back against his hole, he knew he was powerless.
And Roger Goodell loved being powerless.
He pushed out, opening his hole until the man's fat head popped in. Roger groaned around the cock in his mouth. The hispanic man behind him grabbed his hips and fucked him furiously, like he was releasing the frustration of a year long battle against deportation. The forcefulness of the fucking made Roger's mouth go back and forth on the cock he was sucking. This, along with the guttural groans coming from Roger, tipped the man over the edge, and Roger felt a stream of juice rip down his throat.
He pulled off the cock, still being rocked by the invading fucker behind him, and the cock he was sucking shot another rope of hot cum across Roger's face. Acting on instinct, he opened his mouth and hoped most of the rest of the cum would hit paydirt. He needed more sweet cum. He continued to pump the thick white cock as pulse after pulse of seed blew onto his face and into his mouth. When it finally slowed to a dribble, Roger grabbed his phone and took a couple shots of his cum-covered face.
Roger tried his best to scrape all the warm cum into his hungry mouth. All he managed to do was smear it around, giving his face a shiny gloss that glistened in the light of the porn playing on the screen.
In the meantime, the man behind him was pulling his cock completely out of Roger's tight hole, then shoving it back in, repeatedly. Roger groaned in pain/pleasure with every stab of the meaty fucker behind him, grabbing onto the hole and chair to keep from hitting his head against the wall.
Finally the man grabbed Roger by the shoulders and fucked with abandon.
"God, fuck me!"
"Shut the fuck up and take this bad hombre cock, you fucking gringo!" he said. He grunted with one fierce pump and Roger felt the hot seed deep in his bowels, followed by six or seven more jets filling him with warm juice.
For a couple minutes, the man stayed inside Roger, his cock slowly deflating, all the while holding Roger's head down, like a little bitch. "Let it percolate in there, motherfucker."
Finally the fat dick popped out of his ass, Roger feeling a trickle of cum sliding down over his hanging balls. Roger's knees gave out and he fell to the floor. By the time he looked back, the man was gone, replaced with several other men, all with their cocks hard and stroking.
The other hole now had another white cock poking out, but it was small and only half hard. Roger grasped it with two fingers and stroked it, but the man pulled back.
One of the men who had been standing outside, stepped in. He was tall, 6'5 or more, and light-skinned black. He said, "Are you ok sir? Here, let me help you up." He pulled Roger up by the arm and they stood face to face, their hard cocks tapping each other gently.
"You're very nice," Roger said. "Do you want me to suck you?"
The nice expression on the man's face washed away. "No, I don't want you to suck me. You'll do as you're fucking told!" With that, the man sat down on Roger's chair, turned Roger around so they both faced in the same direction, then pulled him toward his towering cock.
"Looks like you're already lubed up with that last load. Now sit on this big fucker, bitch!"
Roger looked down between his legs with fear as the eight inch wood neared his ass. Without any ado, the man pulled Roger right onto the cock, impaling him, driving the entire shaft up Roger's chute. The initial pain was quickly replaced with a wave of pleasure as Roger felt completely full.
He did his best to bounce up and down on the fat cock inside him, but most of the work was done by the muscular black guy lifting Roger's ass up and down on the Black & Decker drill. Roger felt like a pig on a spit.
Just then he noticed the smallish cock poke through the hole again, still soft. The man on the other side seemed to be stroking the base ever so subtly. Roger squinted, confused about what his deal was, when a small golden spurt jetted out of his cock and landed on Roger's stomach.
Roger confusingly started wiping away the piss when a full stream blasted forward, first hitting his cock and then quickly climbing Roger's body until it hit him square in the face and open mouth. The hot piss was flowing down Roger's body and the stream was not slowing in the least.
"What the fuck!" the black man who was pounding Roger yelled. "Is that motherfucker pissing on you, niggah!? Aw god damn, I can feel that shit flowing around my cock. Cocksucker motherfucker that shit is hot!"
Roger could only groan as the stream soaked his face. Betraying his own repulsion, he opened his mouth wider and found himself enjoying the pungent flavors of the golden jackpot.
Another man, who looked like some surfer from California, wearing an Aaron Rodgers jersey, was standing at the opening of the door. He said, "Dude, I grabbed your phone and I'm recording the whole thing! So fucking hot dude!"
After what seemed like minutes of getting drenched and pounded the golden stream slowed and finally stopped. Roger's shoes were soaked along with his hair. The slap-slap-slap of being fucked by the black guy was only accentuated due to the pools of piss on their bodies.
Roger was just starting to redouble his efforts to make the black guy blow his load in his ass when the surfer dude walked in and grabbed Roger's legs. He pulled them up so he was sitting full on the black guy, then he position his large cock against Roger's already-filled hole. The black guy's cock looked small in comparison to surfer dude, and it was covered by the cum that was forced out of Roger's ass from the hispanic guy.
Surfer dude wiped his cock around to get it wet with cum and piss, then carefully inserted it alongside the big black baller, stuffing Roger like he'd never felt before. After a few seconds of patient probing, surfer dude got frustrated, grabbed Roger's hips, and shoved his cock to the hilt up his tight brown tunnel.
Two cocks now pumped in and out of Roger's ass. In the position the three were in, Roger glanced to his right and found a cock sticking out of the hole next to his head. Twisting his neck to an almost uncomfortable position, he was able to suck the head of the big white cock into his mouth. The black guy under Roger also turned his head and licked his balls.
Having two cocks drilled up his ass and another one in his mouth proved to be too much for Roger to take. Completely untouched, his cock jerked and sprayed a little jet of semen onto surfer dude's chest. Three more spurts followed, all but the last one covering surfer dude. Surfer dude slid his fingers to gather a palmful of cum and fed it to Roger, who quickly swallowed and went back to sucking the big white cock in his face.
Roger's post-orgasm ripples were still causing his anus to tighten and clench. This tipped both the black guy and surfer dude over the edge, and they started shooting loads simultaneously up Rogers cavernous ass. Surfer dude joined the other two in sucking the gloryhole cock. The three mouths working on the white guy's cock sticking through the hole finally made him blow nine thick jets of hot semen into Roger's mouth, his throat swallowing the whole time just to keep from choking. With a massive sigh and collective groan, the four men collapsed, all of them drenched in some combination of cum, sweat, and piss. The two invaders pulled their meat out of Roger's sore rear, got up and walked out of the booth, leaving Roger panting and heaving. He looked up to see an even larger crowd of men in the hallway, all of them stroking.
Roger ended up staying at Adult Boutique for three more hours. He took at least 14 loads down his throat and 9 or 10 deep into his hungry shithole. He lost track, but photos were taken of every orgasmic transaction, and all were sent to the trusted number in his phone.
He finally bundled up in his parka and started the long five block walk in the bitter Minnesota cold, bow-legged and shivering. He looked down at his piss-soaked shoes as he walked into his room. Shaking his head, he kicked them off into the bathroom where they landed with a thud, like frozen blocks of piss. He tossed them in the trash and made a mental note to have his lackey buy him a new pair tomorrow.
He lay down in his bed, tired beyond words. As he stared at the ceiling, reliving the afternoon, his phone buzzed with a text. It was still a little sticky from the miscellaneous drops of semen, but he picked it up.
"Got your pics. See u saturday. Suite 2901. Midnight. It's Game Time, BITCH!"