Debbie Does the Super Bowl

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Buddy and I had been friends ever since grammar school. We also had gone to the same high school together and had been co-captains of the championship football team. We finally wound up working for the same sporting goods store in New Jersey.

We also had dated the same girl in high school. Debbie had been a cheerleader for the football team, and she was every guy’s dream of what a cheerleader should be: five foot six, 110 pounds, dark brown curly hair, and a figure other girls would have died for. She looked a lot like Katie Holmes before she met Tom Cruise. I had dated her first and naturally had tried to get into her panties but had not succeeded. She said she wanted to “save it.” I guess who she ended up saving it for was Buddy, since she started dating him in the last year of school, and they were married a year after we all graduated. I was the best man at their wedding.

Now it was two years later, and we were all still friends. Buddy and I had two other male friends, Roger and Tony, who also had been on the football team, and all of us were BIG sports fans. During football season, we would all get together at a different person’s house or apartment every Sunday to enjoy football, beer, maybe a little Jack Daniels, and a modest buffet.

We all had wives, but only one of the wives, Angie, was a football fan. The rest, including Debbie, were a little resentful about being ignored on “Football Sunday” but at least would agree to put together the buffet. Then they were “out of it” and usually would go shopping or something like that.

We were scheduled to go to Buddy’s house for the Super Bowl game, so Debbie had put together the cooler of beer, the one-fifth of Jack Daniels and had ordered three pizzas with different toppings. To get us in the mood for the game, she had worn her old high school blue-and-gold cheerleader’s outfit, and she looked really cute in it.

“Is that it?” she asked when she had finished setting up the pizzas, glasses, Jack Daniels and the cooler of beer on the floor.

“I guess,” Buddy said, “Are you sure you don’t want to watch the game with us?” Everyone else had arrived by that time.

“There’s nothing more boring Mardin Escort than the Stupor Bowl,” she said, pouring herself a Jack Daniels on the rocks. “So I think I’ll just go to our bedroom, watch a porn movie, and masturbate.” She held up her drink and looked around. “Anyone care to join me?”

Boy, that got everyone’s attention. No one knew quite how to react. I got a kick out of Debbie. She always was a very outspoken—even in school—and would say anything that came to her mind.

“Debbie, you are too much!” Angie chortled.

“Very funny,” Buddy said.

“Okay, if you would rather watch the game.” Debbie turned and flipped up the back of her pleated skirt, displaying her royal blue cheerleader pants. Then she walked down the hall to their bedroom and closed the door.

“She’s just kidding, right?” I asked, as the game came on.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you find out?” Buddy suggested.

“And now you’re just kidding, right?”

“I’m sure she’s kidding,” Buddy responded. “But you never know with Debbie. Don’t ever double-dog-dare her on anything, or she’ll do it. She once gave me a blowjob at the top of the summer carnival ferris wheel because I double-dog-dared her.”

“Buddy!” Angie admonished.

“It’s true.”

“No kidding?” I asked.

“No kidding.”

“Could I just peek and see if she’s watching a movie? And I’ll let you know.”


I didn’t mention that it wasn’t the movie I was interested in. I couldn’t resist that clearance from my best friend, so I got up, walked down to the hall to their bedroom, and gently opened the door. As she had promised, Debbie was starting to watch a porn movie, which I recognized as Debbie Does Dallas, and was lying propped up on the bed with pillows but was completely clothed.

“I thought you were going to be masturbating,” I said through the crack in the door.

“I haven’t started yet,” she replied. “C’mon in.”

I looked down the hall. Everyone was engrossed in the beginning of the game, so I opened the door and walked in.

“Want a drink?” she asked, holding out her glass.

“Sure.” I took it and had a sip then handed it back to Mardin Escort Bayan her.

“Sit in that chair there,” she said, pointing to a chair near the end of the bed. “You can watch.”

I sat in the chair as she instructed, and without taking her eyes off the screen, Debbie hooked her thumbs under the top of her blue pants, pushed them down below her knees, lifted her legs up and kicked them off with her sneakers. Then she spread her thighs.

I could not believe it! In all of the time that I had been dating her, I had never seen or felt her bush—and now here it was on display for me. The auburn curls of her pussy were only about an inch long and were trimmed at the bottom so that I could easily see the cleft of her lips.

“Have you ever seen a girl masturbate?” she asked without looking at me.

“No, but I would love to.”

“Here’s your chance.” She took the forefinger of her right hand and gently inserted it in the cleft of her lips until she apparently found what she was looking for: her clit.

“Ummmmm,” she murmured, slipping her finger back and forth. I could feel my pants get tighter, as I was getting a huge hard-on just from watching her. I couldn’t help caressing it through my jeans.

“Take it out,” she said, looking at me.


“Take it out. I want to see it. I want to watch you masturbate along with me.”

I looked around. This was getting risky, but I couldn’t resist. “Okay.” I unzipped and took it out. It was thick and hard already.

“Very nice,” Debbie said looking at it. “You’ve got a really nice-looking cock!” she said loudly.

“Jesus, Debbie, don’t—“

She laughed. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to come, except maybe me and you. They might miss something—in the game that is.” She took her slick finger out of her pussy and held it up. “Want a taste?”

I stood up and took her finger in my mouth. It tasted really good. She looked down at my cock. It was wet at the end by this time.

“Let me have a taste of you,” she said.

I moved closer to her. She took my cock in her mouth, swirled her tongue around the head, then sucked on it. I felt I was about to Escort Mardin explode, and she apparently realized that and took it out. “The only thing that feels better than my finger is a tongue,” she said, “Do you have a tongue I could use?”

The hell with the risk. I didn’t need more than one invitation for that. I crawled up on the bed and knelt between her thighs. There it was before me: the most beautiful sight in the world, and already juicy and waiting. I leaned down and licked her.

“Oh God!” she cried outloud.

I knelt up in alarm. “Debbie!”

“Don’t worry about it. They think we’re faking.”

I leaned down again, slipped my hands under her hips, raised them up and plunged my tongue into her hot and wet slit.

“Oh God!” she cried again.

But this apparently was not going to be enough for her. She leaned up on her elbows. “I want your cock,” she said. “Stick your cock in me!”

I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be a dead man, in one way or another before this was over. Since I still had her hips lifted up, she was right in position, so I shoved my cock in her, all the way to the hilt, and pumped it back and forth a half dozen times.

“I’M COMING! I’M COMING!” she cried.

The door opened. It was Angie. “Debbie, will you shut up. No one be—Oh…my…god.”

I waved her away. She closed the door and left. As Debbie continued to moan loudly, I fucked her slowly and deliciously for about twenty minutes, and I’m pretty sure she came about three times. I came once, but it was a big one. After I withdrew, she ended it all by licking my dick clean as I knelt in front of her.

“You never saw my tits,” she said with a smile, as she lifted her sweater up to her chin. She was not wearing a bra, and her tits were as beautiful as the rest of her.

“Thank you,” I said.

A little while later, I sauntered out to the living room and poured myself a Jack Daniels on the rocks. I needed it; my heart was still pounding. “Who’s winning?” I asked.

“The Patriots of course,” Buddy replied. “How was Debbie?”

“Very good.”

“So we heard.” He smiled at the others.

They all smiled back…with the exception of Angie, who gave me a funny look. Luckily, she had the good sense to keep her mouth shut.

Except for a little later when we were standing next to each as I poured her a drink.

“How’d you like to double-team next time?” she asked softly.


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