My wife and I are huge football fans. We have our own one-on-one fantasy league and one year she picked a virtually unknown player from the university we attended who never made it big in the pros. He was tall, fast, good-looking and muscular, an incredible physical specimen who was also known for his intelligence and character. He had dark, mocha-toned skin.
Julie clapped her hands when she landed him with her last pick. "He's on
all
my fantasy teams!" she gushed, a big smile on her face.
"What do you mean by
that
?" I asked.
"What?" she replied, a sheepish look on her face. "Did I say that out loud?"
"You did!" I laughed. "You have some
other
fantasy team, do you? What kind of fantasies are those?"
Julie just gave me an awe-shucks look. "We all have our fantasies, don't we?" she shrugged, "I just kind of like professional athletes, I guess. OK?"
I nodded. "Tell you what -- how about this -- you can have your pro athlete if the opportunity arises, but I get a cheerleader if I ever get a shot. Deal?"
"Cheerleader?" she laughed. "I knew it! Ever since I caught you rewinding the closeups of the cheerleaders you secretly recorded. You thought I was in the kitchen, remember?"
It was true. Sometimes I'd DVR games just to see the cheerleaders. I smiled. "So, do we have a deal?"
***
That was in the past, and now Julie and I are happily married with two beautiful kids, nice house, and my PR firm is doing great. One day I had a meeting with a new client and when he walked into my office I realized who he was -- my wife's pick from that fantasy draft from years ago. He was retired after a brief pro career and now building a chain of health clubs with a group of other former players.
We hit it off. We were about the same age, went to the same big university, and had the same ideas about business and marketing. After Floyd signed a contract were making small talk when he noticed the pictures of my family on my desk.
"Your son plays football? He looks good!" he said.
"Star of the team!" I replied proudly.
"Wow!" he added, noticing a picture of my wife and I on the beach. "Your wife is beautiful, too." Julie was wearing a form-fitting one-piece bathing suit and her long auburn hair was wet. You could see the faint outline of her nipples poking through the glistening fabric. Actually, I wasn't sure I should even display that picture in my office, but for some reason I put her out there for my clients to see. Julie looked gorgeous in that photo and sexy as hell. It was only taken last year. Even in her thirties she still looked great and turned heads.
"Yeah," Floyd gushed, "you're a lucky man, my friend. She's hot!"
I watched Floyd intently studying the photo of my wife and wondered to myself -- should I say anything? It seemed kind of creepy to tell him about the "deal" Julie and I made years ago, but something got the better of me. Maybe it was pride? Or maybe it was perversion? Anyway, for some reason I spoke the words that ultimately changed our lives.
"Yeah," I said casually, "she thinks you're pretty hot, too."
He raised an eyebrow at me.
"Ummm, she picked you for her fantasy team?" I awkwardly explained, "back when you were playing, you know?"
"Really?" he asked suspiciously, "with my stats I didn't get picked for too many fantasy teams."
For some reason I persisted. "Well, not
that
fantasy team," I said.
He cocked an eyebrow again, giving me a curious look.
I felt myself blushing as I explained that Julie and I agreed to a "free pass" for athletes for her and cheerleaders for me and he nodded knowingly.
"Oh,
that
team," he said with a laugh. "Believe me, I know all about
that
fantasy team. You wouldn't believe how many married white ladies have me on their fantasy fuck-me team. It's amazing!"
"Really?" I responded.
Floyd was still holding the picture, looking at Julie. "Yeah," he said knowingly, "respectable, 30-something married white ladies just love trying out a big, black cock. Especially since internet porn came around. I don't know -- I guess it's one of those mid-life things?" he pondered, shaking his head. "And their husbands seem to get off on it too! Most of them want to watch. It's crazy, I know, but I'm not complaining!"
I could feel my face turning redder. I shrugged, trying to play it down. "Just something we talked about years ago, you know."