IQ Drop - round 3

You smiled. As it happened, you DID know something about soccer. You look up at the host and say:

"2015 Arsenal, 2014 Arsenal."

The crowd started shouting and yelling out the names of football clubs, but you ignored them and carried on addressing the host.

"2013 Wigan Athletic, 2012 Chelsea, 2011 Manchester City, 2010 Chelsea."

The host looked astounded and the crowd started growing quiet as you continued

"2009 Chelsea, 2008 Portsmouth."

You grinned as there were only 2 to go.

"2007......2007."

You paused. It was gone. You knew this, you used to be able to recite all of this. But now it was gone. You looked up at the host, a feral smile crawling across his face.

"2007....Chelsea"

His smile faded. There was one more answer needed and 5 seconds to go.

"2006 Manchester United."

The crowd was silent waiting to see if you were correct.

"Ah, Michael, you are a man of hidden depths and obscure knowledge....or you were. I'm sorry, but 2006 was Liverpool."

You started to curse, but once again the blinding pain hit you and as the counter slid down to 107 you screamed. This time you could feel whole fields of study slipping away. At the same time, you could feel your cock swelling inside the skintight leather trousers. The leather seemed to be caressing the tip of your shaft, making your cock swell. You look around at the crowd, starting to smell the adrenaline in the air, the excitement as they cheer at your predicament. You care less and less for the competition, the desire for sex starting to overwhelm your mind.

"Ready for the next question, Michael?"

You turn your attention back to the host as he holds up the next question card. You desperately try to focus and nod, trying not to think about the way your cock was swelling and growing in your pants.

"A simple one here. Give me the recipe for cup-cakes."

You stare blankly at the host

"What?"

"You heard me, Michael. The recipe for cup-cakes. You have 30 seconds....GO!"