I am married to a red-blooded, beer-drinking, football-loving, stereotypical, 31 year old British man.
I am also married to ‘the game’. Not by choice, but because my husband fell in love with football before he fell in love with me.
Our first dirty weekend away many many moons ago was to Leeds… because they had a big game playing at home at Elland Road. My first present from him for my 21st birthday was a personalised Leeds shirt. Our 10 year anniversary date was spent at the local team’s football match. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY there is some kind of match on the telly.
I can’t fight it. As they say, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. So in the past I have tried to make him associate football with sex. I’ve worn his strip, naked. I’ve done half time quickies. Mid-match blowjobs. Comiseratory and celebratory shags according to the result.
Today, our local non-league team progressed to the quarter-final of the FA Cup for the first time in over 100 years. We knocked out a Premiership team 4 leagues above us. I got swept away with the emotion of the match. But seeing how passionate and emotional my husband got with the result after being a life-long fan was such an aphrodisiac. He looked sexy as hell. But then his new hair cut has the same effect on me too.
Tonight we’re DTD and with the win earlier today as well I would say Dave is having a great day. A massive win for his local team, a beer with Match of the Day later, and a shag with his wife tonight.
So I posed the question to Dave this evening “what’s better – football or sex?” He thought about it for a looooooooong time.
I’m still waiting for his answer.
And the next time he asks me for a blowjob, I’ll give him the same thoughtful stare that he gave me.
And then I’ll tell him to watch some football instead.