Each week, almost impossibly, the over/under for Steelers games gets lower and lower. The same with the Ravens. And so it happens that the AFC Championship game, which should be a delightfully cum-filled fuckfest, looks to be a curiously tedious back-and-forth of ass-clenching and cock-blocking. It's enough already, really. Somebody score. Somebody fuck a guy, for Jebus sake. When I watch football, I wanna see some fuckin'! Deep and hard man-sex. Can a guy see a guy fuck a guy in this league anymore? I don't think it's gay to want that. Instead, I've got to spend three hours on a Sunday beating myself raw to the sexless to-and-fro of... punters? Or is it puftas? Mitch Berger. Sam Koch. Say those names and watch your iron-hard man-rod go as limp as overcooked rotini. Still, I'll watch the game. After all, it's playoff football and I'm not queer. I just wish I could watch one big, sweaty, powerful man fuck another handsome, hairy hard-body in the ass, maybe get a little mouth-love for his fat fucktool and both of them cum on each other's face.
Pittsburgh 17, Baltimore 13
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