Necessary Roughness: 3rd Quarter

However, as she shows off, she takes out another item from her purse - I can't hope to stop her, but I don't see it coming. And when she'd done, I don't see anything - it's a blindfold. "Tonight you're my bitch," Aisha demands. "I get what I want."

She shoves me over the bed, my exposed ass up. She wastes no time, slapping my ass hard. She continues, reddening my exposed but covered ass. "Damn, should have put your ass in something skimpier," she taunts, lashing my ass with her manicured hands. Fuck, this is awesome. She can dress me any way she wants - I need her.

"All right, turn your white ass over, bitch," she demands, and I comply, laying flat on my back with my legs over the edge. "Still hard as fuck. Too bad you won't be needing it." What? Is she really doing this?

She mounts my face and rubs her smooth pussy in my face. "You do what Aisha wants now," she scolds. "Lick my pussy, you white bitch."

I do as she commands, licking her wet pussy with my tongue. I know I'm nowhere near as good as she is but I work hard, looking for her g-spot. She slaps my chest as I lick her deep, her snatch grinding in my face. Fuck I love this. I'm at her mercy and it's so perfect.

"Fuck, you bitch, lick my snatch!" She pulls on my nipples, shooting pain through my entire body - fuck, I want more. "Give your woman what she needs!"

I'm still hard, throbbing like mad. "Fuck!" she cries out as I work my tongue faster. "Give it to me!" I do as she commands, her wet pussy all over my face. I can't see a thing but I love it. She slaps me around, pulling my nipples - I'm her bitch. I'm totally her bitch.

I moan as I fuck her with my tongue. She's screaming in ecstasy but I know she's trying to hold onto her dominant position. I feel something harsher on my chest - not her hands. Feels like a leather whip. She's lashing me easily but I want it harder.

"Fuck, you asshole, lick me!" she demands. "Give it to me good you fucker!" She's losing control and I love it. I can't do anything but lick her - and it's all she needs. "Fuck, give it to me!" she shouts, grabbing my chest as she screams out. Fuck, I love making Aisha scream.

"Yes! Make your woman cum you bastard!" she cries out as she shoves her pussy in my face. I lick her deeper and faster, not letting up. I want her to have another orgasm. I want her to scream.

She does just that, losing all control as I take her into another orgasm. I can tell from her screams what I'm doing - I may be cuffed and whipped and have her pussy over my face, but I think she's still my bitch. No amount of cuffs and blindfolds change that.

Finally, after another orgasm, her body shaking, her hands all over me, she cools off, still perched on top of my face.

"All right, bitch, get your ass up." With her help, I do so, and she walks me over somewhere; I can't see where. She sits me down on what feels like a wooden chair and tells me not to move - I obey.

Soon my wrists are locked through the back of the chair, and she ties my legs to the chair. I'm helpless as usual. "Is this where I get mine, baby?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, whore," she scolds as she slaps my face. Soon I feel my mouth being stuffed - she has me gagged. "This is where you'll be sleeping tonight. Yu can get your blow job tomorrow before the game but nothing until then." Fuck. I need to blow now, but she has me tied up and I can't do a damn thing.

I sleep OK, but all morning I need to cum. Aisha doesn't let me out of her sight, though. Hard to blame her, though I desperately want to take her over the bed and fuck her. I'm saving my reward for the stadium, however. No early cum for me.

Finally, when we find a spot in the stadium, Aisha gives me my sweet release, taking my cock in her mouth. This time, she's being a lot more gentle, though her mouth is being a lot more quick and amazing. Fuck this feels good.

She takes all of me in her mouth, deepthroating me as I moan like I'm all hers. I think about eating her out last night and how wonderful it was - I'll do that any time she wants. But I have to have her now.

She has me right on edge as usual, keeping me in ecstasy as she sucks me. Her tongue works my shaft over smooth and sweet as I moan a little more. "Fuck, baby, make me cum" is all I can manage. It's all I need.

She sends me over the edge as I feel all kinds of pleasure in my body. I shoot in her mouth, and as usual, she swallows all of it, drying my cock with her slut tongue. Fuck, this is worth it - all night waiting to cum and she rewards me here right before the game. I'm in love. I really am.

She kisses me on the cheek and sends me on my way, and with a clear head, I take command on the field. Deon catches two touchdowns and the O-line doesn't allow a sack, and we come out of Philly with a 42-10 victory. Let the winning continue.

(November 26, Thanksgiving Day, Gretchen's house)

We're at Gretchen's because, well, she has a house instead of a messy apartment. It's more of a condo, but since it's just her, there's no point in anything bigger. Besides, she has company constantly, especially this year.

Today, it's a big group of people - last year Andrea had Isabelle over Thanksgiving, and Andrea tried to pull out all the stops for the holiday since she knew she was going to be marrying Eddie. I think I have her beat this year because of one simple addition.

Yes, Crystal has her foster family, but she asked to spend Thanksgiving with us - and they granted it, so here she is. So a small family meal for three turned into four with Crystal - and of course five, since Aisha's joining us. The same woman who spent last Thanksgiving in her office going over papers and eating takeout is getting a real meal this year, and damn is she glad to have it. She's even helping Gretchen with the turkey while I handle the side dishes as best I can.

I have some help, of course - not from the girls, who are outside kicking a soccer ball. Deon's here with us - I'm kind of trying to get him out of his bubble. Miami is certainly nothing like Athens, Ohio, although I found Deon's hometown charming and unique. The fact is, though, Deon seems like one who wants to be a social butterfly - but doesn't know where to begin.

"Coach, go long with the butter!" he jokes as I toss it to him. He catches it with no trouble, still apparently not over me bringing up the dropped pass from Isabelle in June. I turn back to finish the stuffing - then it hits me.

By 'it,' I mean a stick of butter, which Deon lobs at me without my knowledge. It gets me right in the forehead and falls to the floor, at which point Deon starts cracking up, slapping his leg as he's doubled over laughing.

He's not the only one - Gretchen and Aisha see it all too, and now I have the whole kitchen laughing at my ineptitude. "Hey Coach, if you can't catch a stick of butter, how you think you can catch a pass from Tannehill?" All right, this guy's asking for it, I think as I take the wayward stick of butter ad unwrap an end - and stick it to his forehead.

"Maybe I'm a butterfingers," I jab, "but at least I'm not a butterface!"

Deon raises the stakes with a spoonful of mashed potatoes to my otherwise impeccable hairdo, prompting Aisha to interject, "If you don't knock it off, I'll make you both eat that stick of butter off the floor!"

Deon's not about to let that stand - and he turns his attention to the cooling apple cobbler and a large wooden spoon. He takes a full scoop - and lands a direct hit to Aisha's chin and neck. I'm dying of laughter, as is Gretchen, as Deon breaks his own thigh-slapping revelry to taunt, "How do you like them apples, Aisha?"

Undaunted, she rips a wing off the turkey and shoves it down Deon's shirt. "Looks like we got two turkeys for Thanksgiving!"

I don't see the next one coming - Gretchen covers me in cranberry sauce. "I don't have a zinger for that one," she teases. "I'm just glad I made a spare!" Fortunately Deon has my back - with a full gravy boat. "I like my turkey with a side of Gretchen," he remarks - a little off on that zinger but no one calls him on it.

Then I look over to just outside the kitchen - aaaaaaand fuck. There stands Isabelle with my iPhone pointed directly at us. She not only saw the whole thing; she's recording it. At that point, she turns the camera on herself, smiles, and quips, "Looks like we'll need an extra-long kids' table."

She grins and stops the recording as we all get cleaned up - Aisha's less than thrilled about getting apple cobbler on her nice top, but a little club soda and a Tide stick takes it right out. The girls help Gretchen and Deon set the table and set out the food, or what's left of it - at least we were careful with how much food went into the food fight.

She responds in kind by getting the gravy out of my hair - I'm dressed up at least for me, but I can go get a new polo shirt any time I need to; it cost $20 at Target rather than I-don't-want-to-know-how-much at some overpriced department store you wouldn't catch me dead in.

I feel a little ridiculous at the moment, but I look in Aisha's eyes - she doesn't see me that way at all. "I don't know the last time I had that much fun," she tells me, almost whispering.

"Likewise, well, except with my girls," I answer, counting Crystal in that pairing. I just love looking at Aisha - her eyes are her best feature, which is saying something.

What I don't catch is that Aisha is taking full advantage of my fixation on her eyes - I'm not watching her hands. And her hands are up to no good - which I learn just as she pushes a fresh tub of Cool Whip in my face.

And everyone in the dining room sees her do it, and the laughter erupts. I don't mind a bit - I kiss her, covered in Cool Whip. I guess we'll need more club soda and Tide sticks, because Aisha's getting it all over her. And I don't want to hear about it - I look like I just got back from a foam party. And I couldn't be happier.

I pull her close to me, Cool Whip and all - the container has since fallen to the floor, and once again, I'm sure Gretchen has a spare. Then I lean my mouth to her ear for only her to hear.

"I love you so much," I whisper. She doesn't seem shocked at all - it's the first time we've spoken the L-word to one another. I know our relationship is moving at a mile a minute - we've been dating for a little over a month and a couple for less than two weeks. In that time, though, we've spent so much time together, with Aisha traveling with the team and with us making the trip to Athens. It's been a lot to take in - but I wouldn't change any of it. I'll even take the loss to the Bills because it started our relationship.

She doesn't waste any time. "I love you too," she whispers back.

The peanut gallery does not share our enthusiasm. "Are you two finished?" snaps Deon.

I face the dining room with Aisha on my arm. "I love this woman," I announce.

"And I love Thanksgiving dinner," he snaps back. "Can you get over here for the blessing?" I whisper to Aisha and ask her if she's OK with the blessing - she's fine. It turns out Deon's a pretty serious Christian, but unlike a certain ex-wife of mine, he's a lot more about taking care of people and not being a complete shitheel to people. Aisha can get behind that, even if she just typically stays silent and lets other people pray around her - which she does in this instance.

I decide to do the same, prayer never having done much for me - Deon notices, but he seems pretty quiet. "Hey Coach, you know you can speak too," he whispers.

I whisper back. "You're preaching to the wrong choir, dude. The right choir is sitting right over there." I point to Gretchen - surprisingly she's the churchgoer. If anything, Deon's flabbergasted, especially since he knows Gretchen's gay - he's never gone to church with anyone who's openly homosexual. Wait till I tell him Aisha's an atheist. He's already made one accommodation for Aisha - salmon in place of turkey, since she doesn't eat poultry - so we're easing I'm into others since we're pretty sure he's about where I was two months ago on the whole she-doesn't-believe-in-God thing.

Believer or not, Aisha is a goddess in my eyes, though - we can't keep our hands off each other. I know I meant it when I said I love her - I know she meant it, too. I'm also sure our newfound affection has worn thin with everyone at the table - Isabelle averts her eyes most of the time, and I think Gretchen actually tells us to get a room twice. We agree to do so even if that probably mean Aisha's apartment.

(January 3, Ralph Wilson Stadium, Dolphins vs. Bills - season finale)

So it all comes down to this. One game to save our football lives. Six weeks of goofing around and winning football games, and here we are in a do-or-die game. In a damn blizzard.

The win streak was nice; it really was. Six wins in a row - including that crushing win over the Eagles and the 52-0 destruction of the Jets the following week. Not only that, but things are pretty awesome in my world. Isabelle and Aisha are getting a lot closer, even opting to hang out on Saturdays before home games while I prep. Gretchen gets a little more time to herself, which she's using to grow her bakery.

But here we are in a tough situation. We're 10-5 and we need this win - or the Chargers to lose later today, and they have the Raiders' number, so that isn't happening. We have to beat the Bills if we want to get into the playoffs.

We wouldn't be in this situation if the Colts hadn't surprised us last week - a high-scoring contest ends with us losing 44-41 on the last play of the game - but here we are. And it's fucking freezing.

I know there are bigger things than football, yes, but the winning and the life getting better are going hand in hand. It's hard not to see them together.

And there's the magic knock - the gorgeous Aisha at the door of this hidden office, dressed like an Eskimo or something. I wonder who puts themselves through all this cold shit, but then again, I did grow up in Grand Rapids, so I dealt with it for a long time.

It's warm in here, though, and even hotter when Aisha takes my cock in her mouth. I can at least watch Aisha shake her ass as she sucks me - fuck is she sexy. I've been dating her now for over three months and she can still turn me on with the right look.

I moan as she deepthroats me, something that's fast become her signature sex move. "Shake that big ass, baby," I beg as she does it for me. Even covered, she's still sexy as fuck. "Suck me you goddess." She does just that. I'm all hers as I feel my whole body shaking - we've been fucking like crazy during the holidays but I still look forward to my pre game blow job.

In no time she has me on edge once more. Fuck yes, I think as she takes me over, swallowing my waiting load. Damn this is good, I think as she finishes me off, still bouncing her ass for me. I'm such a lucky bastard.

She kisses me on the cheek and smiles. "I guess you have to go freeze now," she teases. "I have a suite." I bet you do.

There's snow on the field, and how we're going to score anything is a mystery. It's sloppy as hell out there - we can't complete a pass, and the Bills' defense teams up with the miserable weather to keep us down. We're in gridlock until the middle of the second quarter, when we finally get on the board with a fluky long run for a touchdown. Unfortunately, the Bills respond and it's a 7-7 game at the half. I suppose a tie is good enough - if we win, we're the 5-seed in the playoffs. No home games. But we never lose on the road - seriously, we're 6-1 away from Miami for some reason.

I decide to have an individual meeting with my players - me with just the O-line and the tight ends. I'm actually not half-bad at this whole tight ends thing, though Dan's giving me a lot of guidance. It's a good thing, too - we need to get some points because we have to win.

"If we want to win this game," I announce, "it's going to come down to blocking. Block for the runners. We can't win with long passes. Deon, you're important as our number-one tight end. The entire passing game is on your shoulders. You're the reason we're going to the playoffs." I know it's a lot of pressure for a rookie, but it's almost better it's him than a veteran who's aware of the pressure and cracks.

The second half begins - colder than balls. Fortunately, we manage to cobble together a good kick return, a bunch of half-cocked running plays, and halfway decent field position when the drive sputters at the 27, and it's good enough for a field goal - and the lead.

A lead that doesn't last - the Bills return the ensuing kickoff for a touchdown and we're down 14-10 like that. Sure is a high-scoring game for a blizzard - usually these games end 3-0. And we go three-and-out on the next drive.

Fortunately, the defense buckles down, and we get them to do the same. We trade three-and-outs until the fourth quarter - and well into it. That's all well and good, but we need a score.

We get the ball on our 31 with a little over five minutes left. A field goal doesn't do a damn thing for us - it's touchdown or bust. And it's looking like an outside possibility right off the bat - the first two gains are for two yards apiece, so we have to go to the air.

The clock is running like crazy - under four minutes, and Tannehill drops back with a rush around him. He looks around - the O-line has the Bills at bay while Tannehill scans the field. He fires to Greg Jennings, who catches it for a 12-yard gain. But that damn clock - still running. Tannehill rushes to the line for a no-huddle offense - oddly enough, it works, and the Bills are back on their heels. Thanks to the no-huddle, Tannehill marches us to the Bills' 14 by the two-minute warning.

We have all our timeouts, but at this point, we're better off running the clock down - but the Bills have other ideas, and they stop the clock after every gain, leaving us at fourth and three. I hear the call from upstairs - wildcat. Deon in the backfield.

The wildcat is where the ball carrier, typically a running back, takes the snap directly; Tannehill isn't even on the field. We just need three yards, and Deon's lined up in the backfield with two fullbacks blocking. He gets the snap from Pouncey - handles it perfectly. Blocking is flawless, and a hole opens up right in the middle. I could drive a motorcycle gang through that hole. Just a little concern about the secondary.

Aaron Williams, who burned us in the Bills' earlier win, drops Deon - right at the 4. We need a measurement - if Deon gets the first down, we have a chance to win it; if he doesn't, our season's over and it pretty much sucks. And can someone please get me some hand-warmers?

The chain gang comes out as I look at the spot - I'm pretty sure Deon got farther, but there isn't anything I can do, since all reviews in the last two minutes go to some mysterious office in New York. So I stand with bated breath - and frozen hands - as the chains extend to the ball. They go past the laces.

They stop short of the nose. We have a first down and four chances to score. Tannehill rushes back in as Deon lines up to block. The first pass falls incomplete, but that's OK. Second down is a run up the middle by Knowshon - two yards and a timeout with thirty-three seconds left in the game. Knowshon gets the call again - stuffed right at the goal line as we let the clock tick down to two seconds before calling timeout. This is it - a goal-line play from the half-yard line for our season. And the Bills are undoubtedly saying the same thing from the other side.

This is our story, though, as Lamar Miller takes the direct snap. He has to go up and over.

He leaps - and gets over top. The ball breaks the plane easily, as we get in the end zone with no time remaining.

The whole sideline rushes the field - we're going to the playoffs, ready to carry Lamar off the field. Of course, we still have work to do - I checked earlier, and we'll be getting the Ravens. In Baltimore. The same Ravens who clobbered us 38-6 in our second game.