Not a Football Fan

I felt completely drained, and happy, when she left just before her family would be through watching the latest game of their NFL home team on TV.

**************

The next week something really bizarre happened. It was Thursday late afternoon and Sarah was over at my house and we were talking about her borrowing some of my classical music CDs and records when Bret and Aiden burst into my house -- if Sarah was with me I never required them to knock -- and Bret yelled "Mom, dad says to get your lazy bitch ass home to make him dinner."

I instinctively grabbed Bret and with the power that only adrenaline and rage can provide lifted him up against the refrigerator and snarled "You never talk to a woman like that, especially not your mother."

Both Bret and Aiden had terrified looks. When I set Bret down I looked both boys in the eye and said "Do you know how weak and pathetic it makes you appear when you talk to a woman like that?"

"But dad said to..." Bret started to say on the verge of tears.

"I don't care who tells you to say something demeaning to a woman, especially your mother. You NEVER do that. Is that clear?"

They both shook their heads "Yes."

"I suggest that you go tell your dad that his suggested comment was not well received and that if he wants your mom home he should ask nicely."

They scurried out the door.

"Was that wise?" Sarah asked, obviously both thankful for my intervention but uneasy about the consequences. "Sometimes Jerry can get physical and he's a lot bigger than you are."

I gave Sarah a steely stare and said "There's a lot about me you don't know, and I assure you that my safety is the last thing on earth that you should worry about. Now which of these records do you want to borrow?" I asked, returning to the items on my kitchen counter.

After a minute or two of conversation Jerry came storming into my house -- without knocking or asking permission. He didn't know it yet but that would be one of the sorriest things he had ever done in his life, complicated when he yelled "Sarah, get your fat ass home. And you," he said pointing at me, "I need to talk to you."

Sarah looked scared. I smiled. "Go home Sarah, Jerry will be along shortly to apologize."

As Sarah scurried out Jerry aggressively approached me apparently with the intent to intimidate me. He stopped short when I said "You fucking obnoxious blowhard; you're not only an asshole husband but you want to turn your kids into people who respect women as little as you do. You either go home and apologize to Sarah right now or I'll kick your ass."

You may wonder if the fact that I was a professional football player made me delusional that I was also a great fighter. You would be wrong if you thought that. I'm a graduate of MAD.

You might ask what "Mothers Against Drunk Drivers" has to do with it. No, that's MADD; MAD is "Minimalist Aggressive Defense." It's a six week course that I took after my divorce to help quell my rage. It's taught by a guy who is a master of fighting arts (not martial arts). He tailors his six week program to the individual student depending upon his or her age, size, desires, background, and innate aggressiveness. Then he makes the student master eight of the 39 techniques that he has determined are the best for physical encounters. When I say "master" I don't mean practice a dozen times. Each of the eight techniques is practiced hundreds of times until it is almost second nature.

A disciple of MAD won't be able to take a skilled boxer or MMA fighter, or someone who is tough and much stronger and bigger than they are; but for someone like me I can take 99%+ of the male population. The fact that Jerry is three inches taller and eighty pounds heavier (most of the extra weight fat) than I am is in consequential.

I would never strike the first blow, but of course a blowhard like Jerry couldn't take me saying to him what I did. He swung at me with his right hand intending to hit my face. Fifteen seconds later, using MAD techniques #4, #11, and #34, Jerry was on his knees whining as I had him in what is loosely equivalent to an arm bar in MMA.

As he was whining and begging for me to release him I calmly said "Jerry, one of two things will happen. #1; you will go home now, call your boys and Sarah into the same room, and in front of your boys apologize to Sarah for calling her names and impress upon your boys the need to never do that, ever. I will ask Sarah about it and she will tell me if you were sincere. #2, I will step over your right arm now and break it at the elbow. Try shaving, eating, or wiping your ass after I do that. Which will it be?" I asked as I put pressure on his arm.

"Number 1, I'll apologize; oh shit, ow that hurts; please don't break my arm."

I released him and watched him get up off his knees. His arm was limp at his side but not permanently damaged. As he rubbed it I said "Don't sleep on your arm or lift anything heavy with it for the next few days, and it will be as good as new. However, you pull that shit with Sarah again and I'll break both your arms."

Jerry had genuine fear in his eyes as he said "OK, OK." Before he walked out, however, I saw him glance at some unopened mail on my kitchen counter and his eyes got wide. Then he slinked out.

I looked at the mail after he left. "Ezra Moore" was the clear addressee and the return address was the NFL team I had played for the previous year. "Shit," I mumbled to myself, but then went about my business.

Sarah called me later that night. In a bemused voice she said "Jerry asked me -- he didn't tell me -- to please call you and report that he had sincerely apologized to me in front of Bret and Aiden."

"Thanks for telling me," I replied.

"No, thank you," she responded. "You really are a complicated dude, aren't you?"

"No, just a simple country boy," I chuckled then we simiultaneously terminated the call.

If I thought that Sarah might have given 110% the last two Sundays, that Sunday she was even more intense. By the time that she left after only two hours I had to check several times to see if my cock was still connected to me, and actually had to take a 90 minute nap to be able to function normally.

*********

Michelle and I talked or texted every day. Every time I was feeling more comfortable with the idea of going along with her plan. We made arrangements for me to visit her for four days the next week. I knew that I wouldn't be leaving Sarah until after football season but Michelle was the love of my life and I really hoped that we could have a family and spend the rest of our lives together.

The Saturday after my strange interaction with Jerry another peculiar thing happened. I was outside chatting with Sarah and another neighbor when Jerry and the boys came out of his house. They politely entered the conversation. After the other neighbor left the conversation and after a couple of minutes Jerry enthusiastically asked "Say, Alan; the guy who I have season NFL tickets with can't make it this Sunday. Would you come with me and the boys to the game?"

As if that wasn't bizarre enough Sarah said "You should go, Alan; even if you don't have much interest you might like bonding with my family."

"Please come," Brett and Aiden said in unison.

Of course the real downside to this was no session with Sarah that Sunday, but she subtly winked and smiled at me so I agreed.

Later that night Sarah called me and whispered "Can you take Tuesday off of work?"

"If I have an enjoyable alternative I can," I chuckled.

"You make your part happen and I guarantee an enjoyable alternative," she snickered and then hung up.

I sat between Aiden and Bret at the game. As is likely in almost any group of fans one guy a row in front of us was a supposed expert and loudly let his opinions (mostly based upon wrong facts) be known. I didn't comment on it until near the end of the third quarter I just couldn't let his latest wrong opinion stand unchallenged.

"That safety James isn't worth a damn," he loudly proclaimed when the tight end on the visiting team was wide open deep left, and James ran from the middle of the field to knock him out of bounds but on the four yard line so a score by the visitors was imminent. That was the end of the third quarter so there was time to respond to the blowhard and I couldn't resist.

"You're wrong," I loudly replied. "James was a hero on that play. The defense was what many NFL teams refer to as a BANGO formation. In that defense one safety plays zone deep middle, the other plays deep zone on the opposite side of the field as the slot receiver, the two regular cornerbacks and the outside linebacker play man-for-man, and the slot corner fakes man-to-man and then has deep zone responsibility on the slot receiver side of the field. Sanders, the slot corner, screwed up by staying with the slot receiver when he ran a slant, leaving the tight end wide open deep left where Sanders should have been. James made a great play to stop a touchdown; he had no responsibility for that third of the field."

Everyone in the section looked amazed; I noticed that Jerry and the kids had big grins on their faces. The blowhard said "That's not right..." but I cut him off.

"If I'm not right why is the defensive coordinator reaming Sanders out on the sideline?" I asked.

Everyone who had overheard me looked on the sideline, some with binoculars. "He sure is," a guy with binoculars next to the blowhard said. The blowhard took his binoculars, looked for a few seconds, and then silently sat down and didn't offer an opinion for the rest of the game."

"You know a lot about football, don't you?" Bret asked with a big smile.

"Just a little from watching on TV," I snickered, even though I was certain that Jerry had told his kids that the guy living next door to them was a retired All Pro safety. I knew Jerry's attitude change was because he realized who I was when he saw that letter on my counter and investigated further and he idolized NFL players.

Even though the home team lost Jerry and the boys were upbeat when we drove home, enthusiastically recounting plays in the game and looking to me for my approval of their assessments.

The next Tuesday Sarah and I spent over three hours together. This time it wasn't wild, like the last session when I had to check several times to see if my cock was still attached. It was extremely "comfortable" including each of us giving the other a whole body massage. Maybe it was because things were more serene than wild, but Sarah was still obviously making the effort to be as sexy as could be, for the first time in my life I had four orgasms in less than a twenty four hour period. She had too many to count.

***********

The week after my Tuesday encounter with Sarah, and our normal Sunday one, I flew to visit Michelle. She enthusiastically introduced me to all of her immediate coworkers and friends and we had a good mix of seeing the sites and city, partying with others, and alone time in her apartment. It was clear from the moment that I arrived that she was going all out to sell me on her plan, and there also was no doubt that it was working. If I had lost any love for her in the last four years it was rekindled that week. The only disturbing thing was that she kept taking pot shots at Sarah.

Plus the sex might even have been better than when we were newlyweds. While Sarah had really upped her game and I was also very fond of her Michelle was even better, and I was in love with her. By the time that the week was over I had committed to give Michelle's plan a try; however, I made it clear that until I moved into her apartment that I was not vowing exclusivity.

Michelle knew what I meant and pouted, but she had no leverage and just nodded her head in agreement.

That Sunday, when I was back home, there was a home NFL game that Jerry and the boys went to with his normal buddy who shared the season tickets with him. Sarah and I went bicycling, fucked in the shower, went to a matinee, and then had a leisurely 90 minutes in my bed tantalizing each other and talking. I explained to her that I was going to go with Michelle's plan -- but only after football season was over. "You're too special to me to leave before then," I smiled at her.

Sarah cried into my shoulder. For the first time that day we were in bed with each other but didn't fuck, or make love; we just stroked each other and talked.

My house sold quickly with the new owners moving in just three days after my last Sunday with Sarah; the end of football season.

Our last time together while I still had some guilt, Sarah had no guilt or regrets. Between love making sessions she said "I can't believe it but not only did you make my life better by making me sexually fulfilled but after your altercation with Jerry he's like a new man. I think that the fact that a real NFL player like you had the attitude that you did about women and how important it was for his boys to have the proper attitude gave him religion. Since your altercation he's been nicer to me than ever before, and I don't believe that will change once you leave. I was on the verge of divorce but now I can see a way back to loving him like I used to."

When Sarah left my house that Sunday we had a final kiss, and parted with smiles on our faces. The movers arrived Monday (I was having stuff put in storage in my new city until I bought a house there) and I left Monday evening. Sarah had told me that she was not going to give me a final goodbye, and I understood because I didn't want one either; it would be too painful.

************

Five years after I left Sarah, Michelle and I are more in love than ever. We've been married the last four years and have a three year old girl named Julie and an eight month old boy named Zach.

Almost exactly five years after I left Crimson Court the Hawkins family stopped by our house for a few hours on their RV trip across the country. Michelle made it plain to me that I was to have zero seconds of one-on-one contact with Sarah on penalty of having my balls cut off.

I was very pleased to see that both Bret and Aiden -- now tall and strong -- were extremely respectful of women; I really smiled at that. I was also pleased to see Sarah and Jerry showing real affection for each other,and that Jeremy had lost about forty pounds; Sarah looked like she had continued her exercise regime and was still very sexy. Apparently Jerry's personality transplant after I almost broke his arm got them back on the same wavelength.

The surprise (understatement of the year) was their four year old daughter Ava who was born roughly eight months after I left Crimson Court.

Jerry was extremely proud of Ava and went on for a good fifteen minutes about how she was the first daughter born to his extended family in generations. During Jerry's talk Sarah had a sly grin on her face.

Michelle was not pleased by Ava's arrival; while she kept her composure she subtly snickered to me "She looks just like Julie's big sister." Just before the Hawkins family left I saw Michelle hovering around Ava with a Q-tip and a vial.

Shit!