Superbowl

 

By kickoff, Nikki was already drunk and high. You tried to tell her boyfreind Nick, but he was too engrossed in the game. Actually, he was probably MORE wasted than Nikki, a typical former jock. You, of course, were stone cold sober. You may find chicks getting wasted insanely hot, but you have no desire yourself. Perhaps it made you a bit of a hypocrite, but you simply don't care. 

Instead of watching the game, Nikki grabbed a bottle of whiskey and her bong, and stood. She swayed, and then staggered and stumbled her way across the room. Once behind her boyfreind, she beckoned you to follow.

“Hey, Nick, I'm going to go to the bathroom, you want me to get you anything from the kitchen on my way back?” you asked. But Nick was busy taking another hit of his bong, and didn’t hear you and was too stoned to care.

In the spare room, you asked Nikki, “You're going to drink and smoke more?”

“Welll, duh, iss the s'perbowl,” Nikki answered, as she opened the bottle and took a long drink. “I coud care lezz 'bout football, orr commershuls,” she slurred as she sat the bottle down and lit the bong. She took a hit, sat the bong beside the whiskey, lifted her shirt up and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Then she continued, “Buh'll zzrink ann smoke, ann pud on won hell uhf a zzrunken show.” She stood their, swaying, the bottoms of her boobs visible.

“Can't disagree, with you Nikki, I’d much rather watch you get wasted than the superbowl,” you told her as she took another hit of the bong. 

She opened the window, and said, “Welll, juzz yoo wash, i assure yoo, i will pud onna bezz show yoo'll see today,” Nikki told you between sips of whiskey. Then, she turned and pulled off her shirt.

Then she took another drink. You had to ask, “What about your boyfreind?” as Nikki took another hit of the bong. She was clearly wasted, and as such struggled to process your question. Finally her synapses fired and she asked, “My boyfreinn?,” as she turned and revealed her boobs to you, and exhaled.

“Your boyfreind, Nick…Wow, Nikki, Your gorgeous. But you're wasted. Won’t your boyfreind Nick mind that your giving me a show?” you ask. Instead of answering, Nikki takes another drink, and hooks her thumbs in her panties. 

As she begins to pull them down, she says, “Doan worry 'bout my boyfrienn.  He's too wayssed t' doo anythin' bud wash football,” as she shimmies off her painties. Somehow, she manages this without falling on her ass. 

Once nude, Nikki grabbed the whiskey bottle, and drank the rest of it. Then she carelessly tossed it out the window, before taking another hit from the bong. She sat it on the window sill, and then stood, swaying before you in all her glory, her eyes barely slits, her face red, finally leaning on the wall.

“Someone is over zzressed,” Nikki says to you. As you drop your jeans, she continues, “Im fuggin' wayssed, ann in need uhf a gooond hard cock fuggin'.” Your cock springs free. Soon, it is burried in her pussy, as she cries, “Yah, thass it, fffuck my wayssed pussy.  Thiss will be won s'perbowl youll never f'rged.” And you had to agree, even if you’d never see a single play of the Eagles or Chiefs. But fucking a drunk and high girl, spread Eagle before you, made you the Chief.