0 comments/ 192750 views/ 30 favorites The Bet By: Amyscute2000 My name is Amy and a friend finally encouraged me to write about and share an embarrassing but exciting story that happened to us last year during spring break. We were juniors at a large college in New England and had a lot of close guy friends on the men’s lacrosse team. When the second semester began me and three of my friends from my sorority, Katie, Rachel, and Jen began dating four guys on the team. I was dating a guy named Teddy, Katie was dating John, and Rachel was dating Eric, and Jen was dating Mike. I think me and Katie were the best looking of us four girls. We both have blond hair and blue eyes and are both very thin and work out a lot. Although my chest is only 34b, I have gotten countless compliments at parties and at the gym on my butt and legs. We all knew each other from parties and stuff before we staring dating. Although we had all gotten to the point were monogamous, none of us had gotten too serious yet and we were all kinda just having fun. We were all going to Jamaica for spring break and we were all looking forward to it. It all started with a bet we had with our boyfriends that they wouldn’t win their first two lacrosse games. We were at a party one night and we were all kinda drunk when Mike said, “I’m willing to bet you guys that we win the first two games.” Jen immediately took to the bait and said, “What did you have in mind?” The words hung in the air for a second when Katie spoke up and said “Like what? Loser does the other person’s laundry for a month? I did that bet last year with you, it was great having my laundry done and all but I only needed it down twice and it was kinda lame.” Mike said, “How bout losers have to go nude on the beach in Jamaica?” For a second I was in shock and my heart sped up. I was no prude and I wasn’t very shy but aside from skinny dipping at night once, I had never really been naked in public before. Rachel answered back, “Do you mean fully nude, for like an hour or so?” Mike replied, “Yeah fully nude for at least an hour.” I spoke up, “But wait, is it legal there to go fully nude? I heard of girls going topless there but not fully nude.” John chimed in, “No its legal, I read in an island pamphlet that the beach our hotel is on allows full nudity, and it even said so in the Hotel brochure.” We were all busy thinking about when the guys all started saying they agreed to the bet since they were so sure they were going to win. Rachel immediately said she was in. I thought for a moment what it would be like to see John, Mike and Teddy fully naked on the beach. Although I was very into Teddy at the time, I had seen the other guys without their shirts on many times and they were all very built and ripped, John especially. The thought of seeing their naked asses and dicks on the beach for an hour made me kind of excited and I think I turned a little red. Without daring to think what it would be like if we lost, I added that I was in. They won their first game and we were all scared about having to follow through and pay up on the bet when Rachel said, “I got us into this mess, I got an idea to get us out.” “What’s that?” I said. Rachel said, “How bout we propose like a double or nothing. If they lose next week, the deal is off, and all is even.” “What if they win?” Jen said with a smile? We all agreed to suggest it to them and see what they wanted in return for the bet. After all, it couldn’t really get much worse for us could it? We told the guys of our proposal they pondered it for a minute when John said, “Ok how bout if we lose, all is even steven, and nobody has to get naked on the beach, but if we win, you guys have to stay naked for an entire 24 hour period in Jamaica.” I think we all froze for a second. It was one thing to be naked for a little while it was quite another to have to stay naked for a full day. “Rachel answered back immediately, “What do you mean? We can’t stay naked at night and stuff. What are we supposed to be naked in the hotel?” Teddy said, you can stay on the beach the whole time if you like, I am sure there are bathrooms and you can get food there, plus I bet you can walk through the lobby for a second to the elevators or stairs to go to the room.” I said “I doubt we can do that guys, we would get kicked out.” I was surprised Teddy was so accepting to the idea of his friends seeing me naked for a whole day. John said “Ok you would have to be naked for 24 hours, but if you have to put a towel on for a minute or two to go from the beach to the hotel room then you can, but only if they don’t allow it. Deal?” “What about later at night,” Rachel said. “Are we supposed to not go out?” John said “We can hang out in one of our rooms and drink there. Is it a deal?” We all thought about if for a while. Katie said, “Listen guys, I have to think about this, can we talk alone and let you know?” Mike said, “You guys have five minutes to decide, if you choose not to accept it, we are going to see you buck naked anyway!” That drew more high fives from the guys and got me more mad at Teddy. We moved away and spoke about if for a few minutes. Katie was the only one who was really nervous. I told her look at it this way, if we don’t accept we already lost and you are going to have to go nude anyway right, so with the new bet at least you have a chance that you won’t have to do it at all. If we lose again, big deal, how bad can it be, they will see us naked on the beach for a bit and we will hang out and eat in our rooms and stuff. They will get board of it after a few hours anyway trust me.” Little did I know how wrong I was. The second game was a few days later and we were all really nervous. It turns out the best player on the other team got hurt and our guys creamed them. It wasn’t even close. Over the next few weeks me and Katie worked out almost everyday so that we would at least be in shape for the trip. When we finally got down to Jamaica and were checking into our hotel, Mike asked the guy at the desk right away if the beach at the hotel allowed for full nudity. The guy looked at me and Katie and answered yes with a smile. Mike asked about the lobby and the man said if you were going straight to the beach or back to your room and didn’t really hang around it was ok. We couldn’t believe our ears. Me and the girls were hoping that we would only have to be naked on the beach and in our rooms! The lobby was a whole different ball game. We decided that we would go nude on our third day there. That way we could at least check out the scene and get tan a little at least so we could look better. The guys said that we could pick the time of day we would start. The girls and I decided that 12:00 noon would be good because we figured that would only leave us a few hours on the beach and then we would go to one of our rooms, avoiding a second day on the beach nude. We drank and partied for a few days, hung out on the beach and checked out the local bars. Our hotel was almost exclusively college kids on spring break just like us. The big day finally came and me Katie, Rachel and Jen were all really nervous. John and Mike came to mine and Teddy’s room and said that they were heading down to the beach and that they would meet us down there. Before we went down, Teddy told me that I was being a good sport about the bet and that he wouldn’t think I was a slut or anything because of what I was going to do. He told me that it would be fun, and made me promise that no matter what happened, I wouldn’t have sex with any of his friends. I promised and we headed down. Teddy and I walked out onto the beach just before noon and met the rest of our group. After we put our stuff down, John looked at his watch and said, “Ok ladies, its 12:00 noon, lets see some skin!!!” The moment of truth came. The four of us stood up on the beach. I looked around and saw hundreds of college guys and girls all over the place drinking and having fun. A lot of girls were topless or wearing thongs but only one or two women were fully nude, and they were older. I took off my t-shirt and shorts and slowly removed my bathing suit top. The other girls did the same. Teddy gave me a wink as I did it. I looked at the other guys and saw them staring back at my tits! It was such a rush and I turned bright red! I bent down and slid off my bikini bottoms and stood there, buck naked in front of everybody. As my friends did the same I noticed that almost everybody within eyesight had noticed that we had taken our bottoms off too and were looking over at us. As a joke I spun myself around letting our guy friends see my ass and back. They went nuts whistling and cheering. John took our clothes and put them in a bag and brought it back up to his room. Teddy immediately asked if me and Katie could get him and the guys a drink from the bar. I shot him an evil look and looked at Katie. Although she had been the most nervous of us before, she seemed to be taking it situation well. We started walking across the beach, buck naked, toward the bar. Every guy on the beach had their eyes glued on us. They staring at my pussy, tits, ass everything! When we got to the bar, the bartender smiled at us and said that more people should do what we were doing. A few guys came up to the bar right after us and stood next to us waiting to order drinks. It occurred to me that it was one thing to be naked on the beach and have people see you, but it is quite another when guys were standing right next to you while you were naked! I was shaking and nervous, but I started to get very excited by it. I felt my nipples get rock hard. The guy standing next to me definitely noticed and looked at me and gave me a smile. We walked back to the guys with the drinks and sat down on our towels. It occurred to me then that we had to put suntan oil on or else we would burn. Me and Rachel had forgotten to put it on in the room so we had to do it there in front of everyone. I took out the bottle and starting putting the oil on. I noticed that John, Teddy, Mike and Eric were staring at me as I did it. I had no choice but to rub the oil into my tits as they sat there and drooled. I stood up and rubbed it on my ass which was awful because everyone on the beach was watching that as well. I got really mad when I looked over at Teddy and noticed that he was practically drooling as he watched Rachel rub oil into her chest. We hung out on the beach the rest of the afternoon and I noticed that a few times our guys had to lay on their stomachs because they had gotten a little too excited. After a while in the sun we got really hot so Jen and I decided to go in the ocean for a bit to cool off. We had been drinking pina coladas all afternoon and by that time we were kinda used to being naked and even Katie seemed to loose her shyness. We told the gang we were going in the water and Katie and I headed for the water. As we walked to the ocean a strange feeling came over me as we snaked our way around all the people laying out in the beach. I could see tons of guys in every direction staring at mine and Katie’s bodies. I got such a rush and started to feel really good. The water felt great. While we were swimming around two guys came over and started to talk to me and Katie. They were wrestlers from Ohio State University and were really cute and built. They asked us if we felt uncomfortable at all being naked. We told them about the bet and they laughed. After swimming with them for a while they asked us if we wanted to go up and get a drink with them at the bar. I looked over at our towels and saw that Teddy was rubbing suntan oil all over Katie’s stomach and chest. I thought that two can play this game. “Sure I said to the guys.” Teddy and Mike didn’t even see me and Jen walk to the bar. They were both busy talking to Katie and Rachel and helping them with their suntan oil. Eric and John were off jetskiing. We sat at the bar with the Ohio State guys and had a drink. The whole time I couldn’t believe what I was doing. I was sitting there with two strangers having a drink buck naked. They weren’t shy about constantly looking us up and down either as we talked to them. One of them finally said, “Hey, you guys wanna do a tequila body shot?” I looked at Jen who seemed to be enjoying the whole thing as much as I was and said “Sure, what part of the body did you have in mind?” The guys looked at each other with a smile and said that it was up to us. One said, “How bout off of your chest?” I don’t know if it was that I was drunk of that they were both so cute, but before I could really think about it I said, “Sure why not.” I thought if Teddy can rub Katie’s chest, then certainly I could have some fun too right? I grabbed an ice cube and rubbed it on each of my nipples to get them wet and took some salt and rubbed it on. Jen did the same. The guys ordered 4 tequila shots. They each took a shot and turned to me and asked if I was ready. I nodded yes. At the same time the moved in and each put their mouths on my nipples. I couldn’t believe I was doing this because I had never even had a threesome before. They sucked on my nipples for about 5 seconds then did the shot and sucked on their limes. “Wow, that was great” one of them said. They turned to Jen who seemed really excited that she was next, and sucked the salt off of her chest also and did the shots. After a few more drinks we said goodbye to them and said that we hoped to see them later. When we got back to the towels we found Katie and Rachel, both apparently very drunk sitting on Teddy’s and Mike’s backs giving them massages. When they saw us they stopped and the guys turned over. We could see from their shorts that they were both rock hard. They had obviously enjoyed having Katie and Rachel’s pussy’s rub against their backs. Teddy said, “Hey don’t be mad at us, we saw what you guys just did at the bar!” Jen and I looked at each other in shock. Before we could say anything else Teddy added, “Don’t worry, we aren’t mad are we Mike? As long as there is no sex you guys can do anything you want. And besides, we knew what we were all getting into with the bet and all.” He then reached over to Katie who was still sitting right next to him and rubbed her pussy for a second. I thought she was going to slap him in disgust but to my surprise she just closed her eyes and smiled. They sun was going down and John and Eric had come back from jetskiing and we decided to go back to our rooms. As we walked back Katie whispered to me, “I hope you aren’t mad at me. You can do whatever you like with John if that will make you feel better.” I said that I wasn’t mad and that I knew we were all just having fun. When we entered the lobby we headed straight for the elevators. I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that I was still naked. There were people all over the lobby checking in and just hanging out. They started staring at us and some of the guys began whistling and clapping. The four of us turned bright red and we jumped into an elevator. We got back to the room in a hurry and ordered some room service. I took a shower and came out and started to get dressed when Teddy said “Hey wait a second, are you forgetting something?” “Force of habit,” I replied and I slid my panties back off. What are we gonna do for the rest of the night anyway?” Teddy said that Mike and Eric went to get beers and liquor and that we were going to have a party in John and Katie’s room since they had a really big suite with a big balcony. I figured that was better than having to go to the bar downstairs. Teddy and I ate and then had the most incredible sex we have ever had with each other. I realized it was because I was so horny from being naked on the beach all day. He told me that it really turned him on watching his friends and other guys look at me naked. I told him that I secretly was starting to like it too and said I hope he wasn’t mad about the body shots we did earlier. He said don’t worry about it at all. “You can do more later if you like, Mike said he would get tequila and limes for us.” At about 10 o’clock John called and told us to come on up. Mike said ok, then reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of my black high heel shoes. He said, “Here, wear these. Me and the guys agreed it wouldn’t be a violation of the bet, and the other girls are going to wear heels or shoes too.” I put them on and walked into the hall. Two guys saw us in the elevator on the way up and said, “I wanna go where she’s going!!!” Teddy smiled and said that we were having a party upstairs and gave him the room number and invited them to stop by. It occurred to me that with the heels on I looked kinda like a stripper. My nipples got hard again when I saw the two guys staring at my pussy. Teddy looked at me after they got out and smiled and said “I hope you don’t mind?” I gave a nervous laugh and said, “If its ok with you its ok with me.” When we got to John and Katie’s room I noticed that in addition to our group of 8 from school, there were about 10 other guys and girls from the hotel hanging out and drinking beers. Everyone but us 4 girls were fully dressed. I walked in with nothing but my heels on and said hello to everybody. Mike and Eric had bought several cases of beer and bottles of hard liquor and mixers. I had sobered up from the afternoon at the beach and quickly started drinking vodka tonics to calm my nerves. I had gotten used to the beach, I guess I would get used to this I told myself. After a while if drinking and hanging out, Teddy walked away from me and went to mingle with everybody. After a while we ran out of ice. Mike handed me a garbage pail and asked me if I could go and get some more. “Me!” I said, “Come on, can’t one of you do it? I am naked for god sake!” He looked down at my heels and rubbed his hand over my ass and said, “I am sure you will be just fine.” I looked over at Teddy to see him doing a body shot off of Rachel’s tits. Fine I thought, I can do it. I left the room kinda mad at Teddy again and went looking for the ice machine. The one on that floor was broken so I tried another floor. It was broken too so I went to use the one next to the elevators in the lobby. Luckily nobody was around. On my way back into the elevator I heard a guy say “Hey beautiful, what are you up to?” I turned around and was relieved to see it was the two guys from Ohio State that we had me on the beach. I told them that we were having a party upstairs and that they sent me to get the ice. One of them offered to help me carry it and I invited them upstairs with me. In the elevator I felt kinda silly being naked in my high heels. One of the guys put his hand on my ass as we walked down the hall back to the room. I smiled and said that it was ok as long as he controlled himself. I figured I it would help me get even with Teddy. After a while there were about 30 people at the party. To my surprise everyone was pretty well behaved with us. I let the Ohio State guys do some more shots off of my chest and made sure that Teddy saw it. He didn’t seem to mind. He was talking to Katie in the corner and I saw that he was rubbing her pussy very casually as he talked to her. She seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. One of the Ohio State guys asked if he could do another shot. I said sure and asked if he wanted to do it off my belly button this time instead. He said, “No, I had another idea.” He looked down at my pussy, which by this time was a little bit wet. I looked over at Teddy who was still enjoying Katie’s company, I was drunk again by then and said sure. I jumped up and sat on the liquor table and put my legs around him, digging my heels into the back of the couch. He took a cup of salt from the table and rubbed it all over my crotch. Everyone kinda sensed what we were doing and looked over. A few guys whistled and that got Teddy’s attention. Teddy looked over at the Ohio State guy who was standing between my legs and nodded that it was ok. With Teddy’s approval, he bent down and started eating me out right there in front of everybody! I moaned a little and everybody went nuts! When he was sure he had gotten all of the salt, he threw back the shot and sucked on his lime and pumped his fist in the air and yelled “Yeah baby! That was awesome.” The Bet "Excuse me, is this seat free?" The woman he had addressed turned to view him shortly. "I guess so." In spite her rather indifferent response he figured it wouldn't be too intrusive to sit down next to her. "Thanks." He laid his pint of beer on the bar counter. The outer appearance of the girl wasn't particularly stunning at first sight, but for some reason his eyes fixed on her anyway. She was a brunette with blue eyes, wearing a black blouse and a grey tweed skirt. Probably in her late twenties or early thirties, he estimated. He wondered what a girl like her was doing in the pub but didn't dare to ask her such a trivial question. "Nice to meet you." He offered her his hand. "I'm John." She glanced at him just enough to say a curt "Hi" and turned back to her wine again. If he had to guess, she was a librarian having a glass of red wine after workday. It was a common practice among his workmates in the computer engineering lab to relax by a drink at evenings. Although he had to admit that she didn't seem very relaxed. There was something intriguing about her, and he was still hoping to be able break the ice. "What's your name?" "Jane." She didn't bother to look at him this time, and he couldn't be sure if it even was her real name, but at least he had something to start with. It clearly wasn't going to be easy to engage her in conversation, and he was short of witty lines. He took a sip of his beer trying to figure out his next move. The pub's television was on the sports channel, showing the final moments of a horse race. He noticed that she wasn't staring at her drink anymore but seemed to be intensively focused on telly instead. "My grandfather keeps winning on horses," she said abruptly. It made him surprised enough that she had spoken to him voluntarily. "He does?" Now there was some common ground to start a chat about. "Yes. He has some kind of magic touch when it comes to betting." "I've tried betting on horses a few times, but never won much." He was a little disappointed to see her eyes still fixed on the television. "I guess I'm lacking that magic touch." She didn't answer, and he had a moment to formulate a follow-up question. "So, have you inherited your grandfather's ability?" It seemed that he had finally chosen the right words; at least she turned to look at him. "Actually I have," she said and stared him in the eye. "You've won on horses too?" "I'm not interested in horses." "What kind of bets have you won, then?" "Are you sure you want to know?" "Of course I'm sure." Why was she asking such a question? "Okay. Remember that I warned you." He smiled. "I don't see a danger." "Don't be so sure about that." "Now you've got me intrigued." "I have?" "Certainly." "Okay, I guess I could tell you. I have a bet in mind right now, one that's impossible to lose." "And what's that?" "Come closer." She leaned towards him until her mouth was just an inch away from his ear. "I bet," she whispered, "that if you tasted my pussy just once, you'd fall in love with my flavour for the rest of your life." He startled. "What?" She leaned back and looked him in the eye again. "Do I need to reiterate?" "No, I heard you." He knew that his cheeks were turning red as he spoke. "Just wasn't sure if..." "...if a girl like me could actually have said that?" She smiled wryly. "I bet." "Mm, yes, I guess so," he said, stammering a bit. The girl was really something that he wasn't used to. "So you don't want to make this bet?" Her voice challenged him again. He collected his charisma and tried to sound self-confident. "No, I do." This time he returned her intense gaze. "But what are the stakes? What shall the winner have?" "The one who wins will be granted a wish and the other one has to fulfil it." "What wish?" "Any wish that she wants to come true." "Okay. And if I win?" "I don't believe you will, but if that should happen, you'd be free to wish for anything." "Well, that sounds like a deal. Shall we shake hands on it?" He offered her his hand, still not quite sure what he was doing but way too curious to withdraw. She grabbed his hand and shook it. They now had a bet. "So, are you ready?" she asked without a trait of hesitation. "Ready for what?" "To find out which of us wins." "Now?" She certainly had the ability to take him by surprise. She granted him a quick smile, probably entertained to see his jaw drop like that. "Yes, now." "Okay. Where do you want us to go to, you know..." "We don't have to go anywhere. We can solve the issue right here." 'She's got to be kidding me,' he thought. "How?" She didn't say anything but ensured that he was following her gestures. She moved her hand down and under the waistband of her skirt. He had a difficult time believing his eyes, and he quickly glanced around to make sure no one else in the pub was watching. Blood rushed in his veins, and he knew he was blushing deeply. As the increased blood flow reached his lower body, he noticed the initial signs of arousal as well. Her hand came back from its expedition. She lifted her two fingers, pressed them against his lips and whispered her order. "Now taste me." He grabbed her hand and took her damp fingertips in his mouth. He looked her daringly in the eye, sucking the fingers lightly, disinterested in whether or not someone would see from then on. Her scent on his nostrils, her taste on his tongue, he was very aware of an intensifying hard-on. He reluctantly took her hand out of his mouth and let it drop, which was followed by a long silence. "You were right," he finally uttered. "I fell in love with your flavour." "I knew you would." Her voice was now softer than before and her cheeks had become rosy. "You win," he said. "I win," she repeated. "I guess we'll have to negotiate about your prize, then." "Yes, we do." "You've already decided what your wish is?" He had a strong urge to take her hand in his again and press it against his crotch right there but he managed to hold on to some of his remaining common sense. She nodded. "I sure have." "Then why don't you tell me." "Okay." She leaned towards him again, her lips almost touching his ear this time. "I am starving for sex," she said, carefully articulating each word. "So, my wish is that you become my personal sex slave for tonight." While they walked out of the pub together and headed to the nearest tram stop -- she had insisted on taking a tram to her apartment instead of a taxi -- he had some time for second thoughts. 'What the hell am I doing?' would have been the obvious question if he hadn't been so oddly mesmerised by this unconventional creature. The tram was pretty crowded, and they both had to stand. Their bodies were so close to each other that they accidentally touched every now and then. She smiled at him on one occasion like that but didn't say a word. The electricity wavering in the air between them was almost palpable, and he wondered whether the fellow passengers noticed the game the two of them were playing. The thought turned him on even more, even to the extent of discomfort. He couldn't help but to imagine ripping her clothes off, how he would touch her everywhere, the urge to be inside her becoming almost unbearable until finally... "Let's get out, lad." Her voice, informing him that her stop would be next, cut the imagined act short. She took him by the hand, and they hopped off the tram. During the walk in the still summer air he was able to clear his mind once again. He reminded himself that he knew close to nothing about this mysterious woman. Yet he had voluntarily followed her so far. She led him to an average-looking grey block of flats. When they had climbed the stairs to her door and she tucked her key to the lock, he noticed a slight wave of panic. This was his last chance to escape. When the door opened, he took a deep breath and stepped in. "Welcome to my little kingdom," she said and shut the door behind them. "Thank you for inviting me in." He tried to sound formal. It was too late to back away now, and he knew he was sweating. "Because I won, I'm the one who sets the rules, and you will follow my lead. Is that clear?" Her voice was soft, but with a strict undercurrent. "Yes." He was proud of himself having successfully tamed the urge to flee. "So, tonight I will be your Queen and you're going to be my slave. Understood?" "Yes, Your Majesty." "That's the spirit." She rewarded him with a smile and gestured him towards the living room. She retreated to the couch and leaned comfortably against cushions. "Now, strip for me." He didn't startle this time but noticed getting used to her style little by little. Her bluntness made him blush again, however. She stared at him with an anticipatory look on her face. "Well?" He managed to keep his voice relatively calm. "Yes, Your Majesty." His heart was racing wildly as he began to remove his clothes. Not sure what kind of a strip-tease show she expected to see, he had to improvise. First he took away his tie and threw it to her. She caught it and smiled. He had already taken off his jacket in the hallway, and now he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, uncovering his chest and navel. She seemed to react with approval, which encouraged him a bit more. He took away his shirt and threw it to the couch as well. She examined him with her gaze. He was glad about getting back to his exercise program recently. In general he was in pretty good shape, and the weight lifting had slightly outlined his upper body muscles, which he thought she might like. He unbuckled his belt, wishing that the rest wouldn't disappoint her either. The thought of being exposed made him sweat heavier, but he unzipped his jeans anyway and slowly stepped out of them. She whistled. "Wow." Encouraged by her straightforward reaction he was able to overcome his insecurity and stand before her unabashedly in his white boxers that left little room for doubt about the state of his arousal. She winked at him. "Come here." He stepped closer to the sofa, now discomfortingly aware that she was still fully dressed. As soon as he was on touch range, she lifted her index finger and ran it along the hairy line from his navel down. "You have a nice stairway to heaven. Certainly one of my favourite spots in a man." Her touch made him shiver. "I'm... I'm glad that Your Majesty is pleased," he panted as she slid her hand under the waistband of his boxers. She gently rubbed the base of his semi-erect cock, causing it to fill rapidly with more blood. She pulled her hand back and uttered a soft command. "Show me your manhood." Her tone and body language revealed that she was getting turned on as well. He followed her request and removed his underpants. His exposed genitalia, surrounded by fair pubic hair, were now in show for her eyes only. Her eyes widened, and he could tell she was impressed by the scene. His cock stood there proudly erect, just a few inches away from her pretty face. He knew he was larger than average in size, and now she was fully aware of it too. She devoured him with her eyes for a moment but kept her hands strictly away from touching him. "I want to get comfortable too." Quickly she stood up and guided him to sit down on the couch in turn. Before he could say anything, she was undressing herself. "Meanwhile --," she waved towards his rigid member, "I'd like to watch how you amuse yourself." Watching her take off her blouse and skirt made him even harder. Following her suggestion, he took his prick in his hand and initiated a slow movement up and down the shaft. She stood a few steps away from him, now wearing only a black lace bra and knickers. They formed a deep contrast against her skin -- so pale that it almost resembled the shade of milk -- that outlined the subtle feminine curves of her skinny figure. He seized every moment, closely observing her graceful body language as she began to remove her underwear. Now it was his turn to stare. His cock was throbbing almost painfully in his hand as he watched her unhook her bra. The garment fell on the floor exposing her breasts. They were small and round, with pink nipples facing upright. He held his breath as she slowly glided her thumbs under the waistband of her knickers. The brown curls of her pubic hair came to view, and when she stepped out of the knickers, he caught a short glimpse of the rest. If there was a moment in life that could instantaneously become a treasured memory, for him it would undoubtedly be this one. Now completely naked, she walked in front of him. He stopped the jerking motion, wondering what she had in mind. For a moment she fondled his hair with both hands. "I've always had a thing for blondes." Her breasts hung so close to his face that he could have taken her nipple into his mouth if he had dared to do so. She leaned down and kissed him hungrily, and when she stood up again, her hair and breasts swept over his face. She lifted her foot to the sofa next to his knee, and for the first time he had an unobstructed view to her sex in all its raw beauty. The dark pink petals folded between her legs, unfolding the entrance to her feminine core. The recollection of her bewitching taste gushed from his reptile brain, making him want to worship the ground beneath her feet. She grabbed his hand and placed it on her thigh, leaving no room for doubt as to what she desired him to do. He breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of her skin. Then he began to slowly glide his hand along her thigh. He could see her shiver as his fingers travelled along the firm flesh, approaching the destination inch by inch. Finally his fingertips crossed the perimeter of her most intimate zone. The brown curls glistened with moisture; her labia were swollen and slightly parted in arousal, as if inviting him in. He gently traced the soft opening between the lips, and she moaned as he let his fingers part them. He buried his head between her breasts and began to explore her depths with his two fingers. She was unbelievably hot and wet from the inside. He was very aware that no matter how deprived of her touch, his cock had become rock-hard. It was leaking pre-cum on his thigh as he continued to finger her. His other hand sought its way to her breast, which made her pant more heavily. He cupped the soft tissue in his palm and caressed the pallor of her skin, witnessing the nipple turn rigid under his thumb. After a while she backed a couple inches away from him, still panting intensely. He let his fingers slowly slide out of her. Without a word, she took his tie from the sofa. She gathered his wrists and wrapped the piece of cloth snugly around them. Following her gestures, he stood up and moved along as she walked her slave to the bedroom. "I think it's time to show you your place, my pretty slave." She instructed him to lie down on the bed. He was soon tied by the wrists to the metal bedframe. 'Don't be afraid', her eyes communicated as she made him completely defenceless, 'I'll take such good care of you.' She backed a few steps away and let her gaze wander all around her servant's body. He wasn't used to being scrutinised from top to toe, and she was certainly the only person this far to make him want to accommodate himself to such a practice voluntarily. Seemingly pleased with what she got, she came closer and resumed the skin contact. She began to glide her hand along his chest and abdomen, observing his reactions to her touch. As she reached his navel, she slowed the motion down. She teased him, moving her hand in circles as if she had lost the way. She massaged his hips and tortured him by placing her hand to rest on his groin. "Another one of my favourite spots in a man", she commented before proceeding to the next object of her interest. She rubbed the base of his cock once again, and then moved towards the rigid shaft. She whistled. "Very impressive indeed." She boldly traced her index finger along his erection, making his shackled body twitch as if an electric current had been directed through him. Determined to have his full attention, she pressed her palm against his cheek and looked him in the eye. "From now on --," she stated, petting his cock and balls with her other hand -- "this is my property, and I'll decide what to do about it. Understood?" He nodded, out of words as her hand kept playing around. She let go of his genitalia and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Good boy." He examined her adorable body in awe as she climbed on top of him. On all fours now, she brought her face close to his, teasing him with the light touch of her hair and breasts on his torso. She pressed her mouth on his ear, dropping well-articulated words that would certainly hit their target once more. "You probably know by now," she purred, "that I'm dying to get a man inside me." "You are?" His attempt to play innocent wasn't very successful, but he was optimistic that she'd forgive him. "You bet I am." She gave him a wicked smile. "So, how could I help myself to get rid of this craving? It's getting quite nasty, you know." He opened his mouth to answer, but she muted him with a kiss. "Hmm, wait a second, I just figured something out that might do the trick..." Her act of serious contemplation was very convincing. She looked him in the eye. "Yeah, I think I'm going to ride on that handsome cock of yours, if you don't mind." 'I love you', was the only reply that his fuzzy mind could make up, but it was left unsaid when her hand sought its way back to his lower body. Her fingers travelled slowly along the 'stairway to heaven', as she called it, until they met what she was looking for. He cried out when she wrapped her hand around the throbbing member and positioned it at the right angle. She fitted the tip of his penis against her engorged labia. Now it was his turn to return to heaven. "There's one strict rule that you must obey," she murmured as his manhood disappeared deep in her. "You're never allowed to cum before your Queen." "Your wish is my command." It soon turned out that she made it a tricky mission for him to fulfil his promise. This gorgeous Queen riding on him was something he wasn't prepared to. She was decisive on what she liked, swinging her hips and rubbing her clitoris against his belly as she fucked him. Her vagina enveloped him in the most loveable way, letting him sink deep in again and again and again. When she purposefully squeezed him with her pelvic floor muscles, he knew he couldn't stand much longer. "Please, Your Majesty," he begged, "I need to cum!" She shook her head, forbidding the act he had requested. But there was nothing to be done to overcome the power of his orgasm. He couldn't resist the enticement of her wonderful womanhood, and his cock began to pulse forcefully, pumping a hot load of semen inside her. She kissed him vigorously, rubbing her tongue against his. "Naughty." "There's only one way you can make it up to me." She reached out towards the bedhead, and her breasts swept over his face once again. "You won't need these anymore." She untied the knots around his wrists. He flexed his arms and hands, wondering what she had in mind. "Seriously?" "Yes." She gestured him to lie still on the bed and granted him a Mona Lisa smile. "You won't be able to escape anyhow." Sitting on his chest now, she took his hands and placed them on her loins. "Hold tight," she commanded. "If you know how to satisfy your Queen, you'll be forgiven that previous misbehaviour." His effort to say "Thank you, Your Majesty" was muffled as she moved her hips forward, grabbed his hair and pressed her womanhood against his mouth. The Bet Sitting firmly on his face now, she looked straight into his eyes. "Eat me, love. If you do it nicely, you'll have me cum on your face as a reward." Her lust was so raw and all-consuming that it almost frightened him, and he might have panicked if the situation had not been extremely arousing as well. His head locked between her thighs, there was no other option than complete surrender. He buried his face in the moist heat of her cunt, unable and soon also unwilling to escape. The enchanting blend of her nectar mixed with his own cum was dripping to his mouth, and he suddenly noticed how thirsty he was. To devour her became the purpose of his life. She closed her eyes when he took her clitoris between his lips and began to suck it, lightly at first but soon more and more intensely. She moaned and squirmed as he let his tongue draw a circle after another around the delicate bud, giving her the treatment that was her birthright as a Queen. He wasn't deprived of oxygen, but this still made him dizzy. Watching her ride on the waves of pleasure, her hips moving back and forth again and again and again, drove him in a completely hypnotised state. She was a Goddess and a girl next door, a Queen and a concubine, Virgin Mary and the dirtiest of whores, all of them at once. She sealed a handful of his hair tightly in her fist and rode on him faster and faster, rubbing her hot pussy against his greedy mouth as tightly as she could. With deepening moans she began to near the brink of climax. "Yes, yes, yes," she cried on the moment of her implosion, swinging her hips along the rhythm of the pleasurable contractions. He was carried away by the taste of her orgasm. Little by little her pace slowed down and her panting became less heavy. She looked him straight in the eye as she backed away from his face. She caressed his cheek with her hand and kissed him deeply. A state of exhaustion conquered them both. She lay down on her side to rest, facing away from him. He kissed her neck and back, gently embracing her from behind. Their hearts beat in the same rhythm as they lay there together, spooning. There was a long silence, and he thought she had fallen asleep. He fondled her hair, and an unimaginably strong wave of tenderness suddenly swept over him. A moment with this sleeping Goddess in his arms was an extraordinary gift he ought to treasure. After a while, however, he began to have sensations of another kind as well. Lust, he noticed to his surprise. He had been milked dry and exhausted, but here he was, getting heavily turned on once again. Her mere presence seemed to bring his cock back to life after a ridiculously short period of recovery. Would she be irritated if he woke her up? He decided to take the chance. "Hey Sleeping Beauty," he whispered in her ear. "Look what you've done." "Mmh," she mumbled, sounding half asleep. He took her hand in his and pressed it firmly against his erection. "You certainly have some kind of magic touch when it comes to sex. In no time you've made me this hard again." "How nice," she purred as she wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft. She was lying on her side, her eyes still closed, her state totally relaxed. There was something he definitely wanted to tell her. "You know what? You were right." "About what?" She caressed his genitalia lazily. "As soon as your juices touched my mouth, I fell in love." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah." The curve of her loins was so tempting that he couldn't resist the desire much longer. "You won the bet and made me your happy slave, but not just for tonight. I guarantee you that my body will be your personal playground now and eternally." "Can't object to that." She sounded more alert now. "But every now and then we'll reverse roles like we just did." He gently caressed her bottom. "Meaning...?" He was almost sure that she was already in the game with him. "Meaning that I'm the one who leads now." She glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze. He got a confirmation; she was playing along. "Because there's one thing I know for sure..." He rubbed the tip of his cock against her moist labia. They still had the whole night ahead of them. "And that must be...?" Her panting revealed that she wanted this at least as much as he did. "That even Your Majesty sometimes enjoys to be fucked like this." He entered her from behind with a strong, determined thrust. She was facing away from him now, and her reply pretty much disappeared among her moans, but he got the message anyhow. "You bet." The Bet Everyone was always over 18. This is a collection of stories fans have sent me, true stories according to submissions. Enjoy -- From my Journal SUB IN TRAINING FIRST: when session begins, completely undress. A good slave stays totally naked (and barefoot) for the whole session. Pull off top and skirt, shoes and socks and wait. When asked, put off my bra and panties and once I'm properly naked, give him my clothes. (Sometimes I keep my jersey:) - for nostalgia They are not Mine!! I 'may' get them back at the end if I am a good little girl SECOND: Assume the 'waiting position'. Use the normal position or wait for him to say. (I know what he likes) Standing, legs apart, hands behind my head. THIRD: let my Master inspect my naked body. ANYTHING!! Do not move! This inspection should be slow, detailed (!!!!!!). Every orifice, surface, fold, wrinkle. During inspection, I must stand still and be silent. I may be laying down. Face up or face down. FOURTH: Once I am inspected, help get ready. Cuffs, anklets, rope maybe a gag. Some days, when it is all day, a collar. Follow silently. I am my Master's. ---------- I blink at the notes, trembling. There is a saying, 'When the Sub is ready the Master arrives' I may have found mine. ------------------ My actual slave is so pretty, eight years younger than I am, Very shy. We started by accident. And she was embarrassed, asked me to stay partially dressed (jersey). That was OK at first. It's been six months, she knows now she must totally undress herself and give me her clothes. She has to stay completely naked for the whole time she's here. Only then do I give her clothes back. If she misbehaves it all just takes longer. The record is three days naked, even drove to the store with her in the passenger seat. She still complains whines, every now and then, but she is mine. I like skin, I like her embarrassed, the way her ass blushes when I look between her legs. -- Oh, and she is my sister!! What do you fucking think of that?? ----------------- Football The BET was over a game of football. I go to my brothers every Saturday and we watch a game. Sometimes I come over Monday night. He loves football and knows it well. I love the players, and have a thing for their uniforms and their bodies. They are my gladiators:) I am eight years younger than my brother and he has his own place. He's not really the football player type (though he thinks he is), so not really my type either, other than his personality. We get along well and it was sad when he moved out, but we kept in touch. He used to date one of my best friends, and we all still get along. He skateboards, and works at a design/ad company with a 'unique understanding of the Millennial culture.' blah blah blah. That's what the website of his company says about him. He is quiet, some think he is serious, but I get his humor. And he loves football. -- Is there a tension between us? I am talking like sexual tension. Nah. Nothing I'd ever noticed, and that he ever had any designs on me came as a surprise. And it did start while watching a game. A Cleveland Browns vs. Packers Game, and for some inexplicable reason he is a Packers fan. I graduated high school last May, and was wanting to move myself into a friends apartment. Not a lot of stuff, but some heavy lifting and I needed someone to move me, and my brother would have helped anyway - but, we ended up making a bet. I bet the Packers would lose and he bet they would win. "How much is the bet?" He asked. I raised my hands, letting them drift through my hair. Twinkle in my eye. I do not know why I said it the way I did. I said, "If I win, I OWN you for a weekend." He blinked, giving me one of his wry smiles. "And....if I win." He paused for effect. "I own YOU." It was meant harmless (on my part). I really just wanted him to help me move, AND be able to order him around. It would have been fun. But the tingle I felt at his words, his low voice, the stubble on his chin, the wry smile. The understated way he could say things. He took a pull at his beer. The way he said it, the sound of I OWN YOU. I was watching the game, not looking at him when I said, "K" ----------------------- I remember it like it was yesterday. It was after my huge flaming breakup with my girlfriend, of which my sister never knew anything about. I don't even think she knew I was dating anybody. I never told her about it. I don't know why, and ... My sister. How do I describe her, us. It started so slow, the day she started coming over to watch a Football game with me. I was bummed, having broken up with my girlfriend, giving her my who gives a shit smile. It was uneventful really. She came over and we ate pizza and watched the game. She liked to wear a jersey, and shorts, and the jersey was XXL, and so long it covered her like a very short skirt. Her standing in that jersey eating pizza in front, her back to me, as she watched the TV screen, is an indelible memory for me. Those legs. The first time, I thought I was looking at the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and from the inside. Don't misunderstand, I had absolutely no intimacy in mind. I knew who she was - off limits - I just remember thinking, 'Some lucky guy will get you.' It just happened, we got along, she was funny, it was all good. But I'll never forget how it grew and grew, those Saturdays. The routine. I came to look forward. I tried to date again, comparing these girls each time to her. Because when you date, its all this act, thinking of where to go and be so cool. Always these grand gestures, and its never so good as just sitting around. Who gives a shit. Having a girlfriend, at the beginning anyway is all about the grand gestures. You impress, give gifts, eat at fancy places. Weirdly forgettable. It's fake, or not really fake, it's not life. Women just want one thing - prince charming. And they play and play this game, and be coy, and - fuck - then they just hook up with the guy with a good job. It's the men who are the true romantics who come up with all the grand shit, who feel bad if anything is not perfect. Life is not meant to be fake. I mean what girl likes football, really? They put up with it, but Sara she was just here, not trying to impress anybody. It is the small moments. Created the opening, of us, our small moments. And every Saturday and pretty soon you have 100 small moments, and I am like damn! So then I stopped even trying and started thinking about my Saturdays, and ways we could do other stuff, and then I am like shit. She was really starting to blow my mind, and I am feeling stuff, and she is just watching fucking football. It all felt real, and I felt her, her presence and smile and humor and bull shit. Friends. That's what we were. And when it is small, there is no grand gesture and no drama and no huge fucking flame out at the end. Nothing to understand or misunderstand, no mind to fucking read. And that is what Love is. Small stuff. And I knew this would end, she wold meet somebody move on. She was talking about her place with a friend. They were going to have parties, would I ever want to go. I'm kind of old I say and she casts her eyes down. "I guess." We run out of things to say sometimes, get bored waiting for the game. Talk about mom and dad. But then the silence is OK too. I start to hate it when she leaves. I am a romantic. I imagine her gone, married with two brats. And one day she is sitting by herself at the table, and she smiles. She smiles because she remembers Me - and smiles. Remembers this sofa, this room, this stupid Game. Everything we did, every small thing we did. Nothing grand. Ever. Maybe Christmas, and we can look at each other and remember and know we are remembering. Everything else, I'll fucking forget and all these other women. And they will forget too. But you know what? We will have The Game. ------------- The game is on and I am sitting at one end of the sofa with David. We are watching and eating chips, drinking some beer (he lets me when I'm here). I have had enough to feel the light little buzz, and now I'm eating chips. He says to no one, "I should have been a football player." I laugh, "You used to play?" "Uh, yeah, some, I should have kept playing it, there's good money in it." I quirk a grin, "You'd have to go to college." Silence. I'm smiling and laughing inside. Any modicum of work, he's just watching now. We were on a three seater couch, I'm at the one end. It is the Packers and the Colts on TV. We live in Indianapolis and the Colts are OUR team, but my brother likes the Packers. I like to watch football with my brother. The only light in the room comes from the TV as it flickers green, and then blue sky when the football is thrown high into the air. It flickered on my brothers face, shadows playing across the room. The kitchen light is on. "What position would you play?" I keep it going. My brother shrugs. My knees are curled up beneath my jersey. I am wearing shorts today, white shorts. I look at his eyes, and the shape of his chin. He is not thin, but his body is long, and it makes his waist look thinner than it is. His jaw is angular, and he has sharp, dark brown eyes. Muscled round shoulders. He's wearing a tight white T shirt, muscle shirt. I am thinking, he's cute, for no reason at all. And as that thought was working its way out, I have this moment of volition: 'What if I was to slide over to his side of the couch, how would I start that?' Weird. And my thoughts continue in this path, my heart flutters, flowing from the way he is sitting right now. My eyes glance sideways at him. I could get up, get another beer. And come back, sit at the middle instead of the end? OR only part way. I pull my knees closer. I could stretch, turn my legs out and swing around, and be a bit closer. Why the hell am I thinking that? And then HE gets up. "Want another beer?" "Yeah." Shit, well now I can't get up. While he is in the kitchen I swing my legs around and move closer to the middle of the couch. I actually do that. Put my legs up on the table in front of the couch. He comes back, hands me the beer, looks a moment and sits next to me. So he moved in a little too. Next to me! It just feels nice. I am feeling like I just want to be closer to him today, nothing but that. He is not at the far end anymore and neither am I. We are next to each other. I have my beer and bring it down between my legs. Look over at him. He has a glass. "What are you drinking?" "A little whiskey." "You didn't offer me any?" "I didn't think you'd like it." "I probably don't." He laughs. "But you could of...." I drink my beer. And then as we are watching the game, he puts his hand down on my thigh, just below my jersey, as we watch the game, as if nothing was happening? I don't quite know how to react, but I just sort of lean in a little closer, letting my side brush against him. Drink my beer. Lovely little buzz. The flickers in my thoughts, as I watch the gladiators on the screen, suddenly make me feel awkward. The thoughts stirring are all about the the feel of his hand, and with it an arousal, a tingling in my sex. A light moment of melting. Human contact, and I have not had any lately. I had masturbated yesterday, felt so nice. Not thinking of anything in particular. I begin thinking of my hands rubbing hard between my legs. It felt so good, but all I had lately is my hand. -and- my brother? Pushing it all away made my heart beat a little faster still, bringing warmth to my ears. But with the game, and the room, the beer, his whiskey, and just us. It felt nice. Safe. A little guilt, but nice. And I smile, as the thought occurs to me. 'How would I confess this?' Finishing my beer, I set it on the table and play with my hair a little, glance at my brother and sidle in closer next to him. Form myself a bit to him. Is he thinking the same things? What does he think of me? Like right now, in these shorts and this jersey. I have nice legs, and I turn my thighs, his hand readjusts but holds to me. His hand lays on my skin. Not moving. Does he ever wonder what color my panties are? Where did that fucking come from? I'm not wearing a bra today. And again noticing how he is touching me. We could be thinking the same things. That was kind of exciting and sad at the same. Sad because they could never be together, and I jumped a bit when he looked at me mid-thought. And as his eyes landed on mine, I sighed. An audible sigh. Fuck! What was that? 'Was it that loud?' Shit. "What?" he asked. For the first time I was a bit tongue tied. I just smile. "Nothing." "You Bored?" "Nope." "You want that whiskey?" "This is all right." And I stay leaned against him, his hand at my thigh. I wanted one but did not want him to get up. I want nothing to change just then. What is he thinking? It can't be the same. He turned away again. Both watching the game. His hand is warm, sensitive skin. My mind playing, watching, thoughts dancing, 'He probably has experienced fingers' And that thought brought a gentle squeeze of my thighs together. 'I am fucking drunk' I am fucking drunk, sitting in the dark beside him and I'm getting fucking wet, and a new wave of guilt. Should I move? In answer I press my bottom a little deeper in the couch. No. I want that whiskey, but don't want either of us to get up. It was getting worse, the feel of him, and the urge to lay my hand across his stomach. It felt like how I wanted it to feel. I mean, to meet some guy and sit with him just like this. To be with someone, have someone, and suddenly I felt a little sad. And his hand at my thigh, touching my bare skin. I wanted this with someone. Someone I could be with. I had to resist the urge to squirm. And again, a sigh, a long deep breath. My cheeks are flushed, but you cannot tell in the dark. The game, the TV picture, and I'm like what the hell is going on. And there it is. The context. The beginning. I felt excited, aroused, guilty, naughty sad. And that's when we made the bet. -- I bet the Packers would lose and he bet they would win. "How much is the bet?" He asked. I raised my hands, letting them drift through my hair. Twinkle in my eye. I do not know why I said it the way I did. I said, "If I win, I own YOU for a weekend." He blinked, wry smile. "And....if I win." He paused for effect. "I own YOU." It was meant harmless (on my part). I really just wanted him to help me move, AND be able to order him around. It would have been fun. But the tingle I felt at his words, his low voice, the stubble on his chin, the wry smile. The understated way he could say things. He took a pull at his beer. The way he said it, the sound of I OWN YOU. I was watching the game, not looking at him when I said, "K" -------------- And then, suddenly, the GAME mattered. There was this warmth coursing through me, as I watched, as I watched it all unfold. Like some kind of dream. A Vinatieri 50-yard field goal made it 21-13, still Packers ahead, beginning of the fourth quarter, when Packers kicker Mason Crosby followed that up by missing a 52-yarder. Suddenly, the Packers' offense was sputtering, while the Colts' pass rush was making noise. Luck ran it in from three yards out to cut the lead to two, though the Colts couldn't convert the ensuing two-point attempt. Then Vinatieri drilled a 28-yarder to earn the Colts a lead, 22-21. Five minutes left. I was going to win. "I'm going to win!" I nudged into him, now we were both watching. A competitive spirit. "The Pack is made for this." Was all he said. He was right? All that did was spur on Rodgers, who drove his team 74 yards before finding Jones from eight yards out to make it Packers 27-22. Luck took over with 3:30 to go and the ball on the 20. Hell of a game. Then came what Arians called, "The storybook ending." Luck to Wayne for 15. Luck to Coby Fleener for seven. Twelve more for Wayne. Two plays later, it was Luck to Wayne for 15. Then 18. and first-and-goal from the 4. And then the Pack shut it down. I lost. I lost. David looked over. "You lost." mussing my hair as he got up. "I OWN you." I looking up at him. "You want that whiskey?" "Yeah." ---------------- Now I was not really thinking anything about it. I mean I was going to have him move me, that was it, So now it meant nothing more than him making me wash dishes, clean his house, make the bed, do laundry. Some such shit. He came back with two more whiskeys. Handed me mine and sat down. I took a swallow. It was alright, I was expecting a burn or a bite, it was good. "You like it?" "Yeah." "I put a little sweet wine in it. Softens the bite." I took another sip and as I sat there, swirling its flavor in my mouth, he reached out a hand and lay it over my breast and gently squeezed. What the fuck! I jumped at the feel of his hand. Moving myself back. Holding the drink out away from me which had spilled a little. "What are you doing!!" He says, "I own you. You lost. You're mine, I guess, for the weekend." Now I know everything I was thinking before. Being up against him, and all my delicious feelings, naughty guilty feelings. But he was my brother, these were just inside my head. "That is not what I bet!" "So...What does it mean to 'own' somebody?" Smile on his face again. My cheeks are burning, and could still feel the pressure on my tit from being squeezed. I was also, unknown to him, sopping wet. "It means," I said with mock prudery, "I do stuff for you. Like, I don't know, Like...I was going to have you help me move. So..." Collecting my thoughts, "You could...." I was at a loss for words. I was so fucking aroused thinking about it. He got up and went into the kitchen, called out. "I didn't know you came with so many rules. If I'd known I would have bet for something else." I laughed, "You are drunk. You can't be serious." He came back out, "In my book ownership makes you're mine. I can do whatever I want. But..., well, you can go ahead and make me dinner then." He was so nonchalant. What was he thinking? He turned to leave, and turned back again. "Just one thing. You have to do it with your Jersey off." My eyes went wide. He had groped me already, he knew I did not have on a bra. He added, "I won't touch, but I'd like to see." "You are my brother!" He sort of shrugged. "Just, considering, you are mine. You lost the bet. I should get SOMETHING I want." And the nugget of an idea. "I just can't, Not that. But I can...." I got up and lifting my jersey to my waist, undid the snap on my white shorts, hooked my thumbs at each side and, letting the jersey fall back over my hips, slipped my shorts and panties off together. I was standing there in front of him bottomless, covered by my jersey which was falling just below my crotch. I was breathless with arousal and could not believe what I had just done. He was surprised himself. I do not think he ever thought I would have taken my jersey off. Not really. And even if I did it was just my tits. But now I was bottomless. I left my shorts and my panties - red by the way - right near my feet as I stood there before him. "This is what I will wear while making you dinner, since you OWN me." I swayed a little, reaching down, and finished the rest of my whiskey. He looked at me like he was going to say 'shiiii-it', what he did say was "That's fine." He sat down again, and as I was going into the kitchen he says, "I think I like owning you." ----------------------------- Now there is definitely more to this than her version. There is some back story to us. The Bet When I still lived in the house Sara would purposely flirt with her boyfriend in front of me, especially when I was not seeing anyone. Sort of rub it in. I never felt like I would do anything, but I always did feel she was flirting with ME when she did that. Maybe it was more playful than mean. When it got late, she would feign sleepiness, laying on the sofa disheveled, and her boyfriend would start to basically molest her. Rub her tits or put his hand under his dress, the whole time I am right there. After a bit he'd carry her to her room over his shoulder, and as he'd walk by make some perverted comment to me. But when he got past she would lift her head, peek open her eyes and look at me over his shoulder, as he took her down the hall. Stuff like that. She would leave her bedroom door open and start making out with her various boyfriends, KNOWING that if I wanted I could see. And sometimes I would peek, you know. Watch them. That was awhile ago. But she is anything but innocent, so what was I supposed to think tonight when she makes this bet? Owning me! If she wins she owns me, and accepting my side of the bet if I won. Leaning up against me during the game. Rubbing against me. You know?? She had a way of exposing herself, an exhibitionist. The bathroom door had a way of being ajar at just the right moments when mom and dad were gone, and she was showering, putting her make up on in bra and panties. Kid stuff, but still. As I grew older, being so much older than her, we did grow apart, but she kept getting older and gradually we came back together, and now we are this pair of adults who are almost like meeting each other again. Now we have the game. She wants to hang out with me, by definition it means she does like me. -- So she is next to me wriggling around, letting me lay my hand on her thigh (no big deal, but the way she reacted). Leaning against me, squeezing her thighs, sighing and carrying on. She was getting me kind of hot, and I was starting to get an erection and she had to have noticed that. So winning the bet, I own her now, and the games WE were playing. I thought, what the hell. Go for it. It was a test. Are we thinking the same thing, and then she goes all church lady. Though to be fair, she probably wasn't thinking the same thing in the same ways, and I was over the top anyways. But. Now I am back again. She wanted me to do that, everything signaled it. I was not going to do anything more. Feel her up, maybe kiss a little, like what she would show me when she left her room ajar. My little girl, I was going to call her. But, here's the deal. She actually RAISED the stakes. I was going to cop a feel, and when that was not OK I just, you know, wanted to SEE her tits. She is the one who came over in that jersey with no bra. I noticed that right off. So what am I supposed to think? Would she let me see? Maybe I was going too far, but maybe not TOO far. And SHE is the one who raised the stakes. She is the one who took her shorts and panties off, left them in the room here. Shit. Crazy shit. Standing there in just that fucking jersey. What am I supposed to think? She was such a tease. Always such a tease. ---------------------- I did exactly what I said I did and went into the kitchen. I knew right away I was going to make chili cause I am good at that and it is easy and I know that David has everything for it. So reaching for the pot, my arms go up and I am like Whoah! The jersey goes right up and I can feel my butt exposed. Shit, this thing is short. And I laugh, I am very tipsy at this point. I look back at the door, tugging the jersey over my swaying ass, did he see? And I walk over and look at the cans of diced tomatoes, they are on a higher shelf and I am feeling perfectly wicked. I look back at the door and he is still not there and I almost want to wait, but then do not. I reach up and can feel the bottom of my jersey rise and god it is making me hot! With the stove going I finally hear him come in the kitchen. "What are you making?" "Chili." He snorts, and I feel him looking at me. I don't look back and keep my arms down. I feel so fucking naked just then. And my thoughts swimming. I run through my head - he OWNS me. My breath was caught in my throat, and finally I looked back straight into his eyes feeling utterly exposed, naked under his piercing stare. Which makes me kind of, I don't know, scared AND angry. It is sort of like fight or flight. So I say, "What?" And turn back and try to act as if nothing unusual was happening. I could hear him move a bit closer. I was browning the meat, and mixing in the onions. I ask in a nonchalant voice, "Could you get me the beans?" The cupboard door was open and those cans were also on the top shelf. It had to be obvious what reaching for them would do. He says, "No. You have to do everything." I blushed deep, and looking back, padded over to the cupboard. Standing there in my bare feet, "You have to turn away." "Why?" I was speechless, he WANTED to see. The feelings are indescribable. Groping me, trying to get my jersey off. I felt so guilty, imagining what my confession would be next week. Now, there was another emotion closely following my wave of guilt. My body was shaking, my breath coming out in gasps, and it wasn't just because of the whiskey. I felt hot, feverish. I was all swollen and achy between the legs. I didn't know whether I wanted to hit him or whether I wanted him to just push me up against the wall, and kiss me. God. What is happening? I was so fucking aroused. I could feel my heart beating. I did not look at him and simply reached, reached and took the can. So he saw my butt, so what? What the hell was going on with me??!! This was my brother. I knew I shouldn't be turned on by knowing he'd seen me naked, How he watched me. I exposed myself. I should be disgusted. But I wasn't. I was dying inside from this torment. And his footsteps grew closer. I covered my eyes with my hands a moment. Rinsing the beans, my hands trembled. --- Then he said, "Actually, your my good little girl when you do what I ask." There was something that shifted. It was like a wave that moved through me. I kept rinsing and moved to the stove, he was standing right behind me. My thoughts went like this: 'I will do whatever you ask, be your good little girl, your bad girl, whatever. Ask and you shall receive.' It felt so complete, this is what ownership feels like. He moved a little closer, and lay his hand at my back, and I turned myself back and forth. Sort of a motion to shake him off. He responded by simply holding his hand in one place, right at the center of my low back. Fuck. I had nothing on under this thing, and here he was touching me. Feeling me. His good little girl. My mind was blank, and I had no idea what to say or do, or anything. I was just stirring the chili. What I said was, "I am a huge fan of cheesecake." With that his fingers began to move. I continued, "I wish I could make some for desert. Cheesecake, to me, is the most sensual, fucking incredibly sexy food there is. Taste, texture, everything. It's orgasmic." "You should make some, sometime." "Hmm." His hands were down near my hips, his thumb rubbing over my ass, I waggled my butt. A sort of motion to shake him off, but now just a reflex. I was letting him. I said, "You shouldn't be doing that." No answer. "Even if you do own me." When his hand got close to the hem, I said, "You have to stay on the jersey." "You have a lot of rules little girl." And he let go. "You want anything else to drink?" "I think I'm bad enough as it is. I'll be horrified with myself tomorrow." "How abut a ... A rum and coke?" Shit. Which is the most fucking wonderful thing in the world. I paused. "A rum and coke? OK. I think a rum and coke AND cheesecake is the most fucking wonderful thing in the world." He made me a rum and coke, set it beside me. "I'll set the table." "OK." The room got quiet and I looked around. Lights in the other rooms were off. It was all so romantic somehow. Just us, a beautiful Saturday. The smell of warm food, the light fading outside. His good little girl. I kept thinking that. He was getting the plates, and I did say, "David? He looked at me. "Do you think brothers and sisters can be friends, like this, like whatever we are? This isn't too weird is it?" He had the plates and was getting the cups, not saying anything. He left the room. I was thinking this through, sipping my rum and coke. I did not like waiting. Was he thinking about it? I had to fill the silence so I added, "I'm sorry, I'm being a girl. I don't mind this right now, Should I?" He was back in the kitchen, "Do you trust me?" I was surprised, turning his way. I said, "Yes." "Then you have nothing to worry about. It's nice. I like you, we are friends. Friends. I like that you like coming over and being with me." "I can keep doing that?" "Of course." "I mean..." I turned away again. Embarrassed. "Sara. There is no 'romance' in my life, no small moments. And I'm not saying there is ANYTHING between us, but I do like you, as a person. Right now, today, this week, this month, you are the best thing that has happened. Making chili, watching a game, drinking beer with you. Making a silly bet. It's just us. Tonight, I own...yeah. You. Your my good little girl, tonight. Trust me. Just be your sweet little self, and maybe a little bit naughty little self. You've always had a touch of that anyway." I looked back. "Me?" "Your boyfriends, carrying you to your room. Pretending to be asleep." She laughed put her head down. "I'm not surprised. You probably have all kinds of boys after you. Sara, you are one of the most beautiful girls I know. Some guy will be really lucky." It got me, that's for sure. No one had EVER been this sweet to me, EVER. "I haven't had a boyfriend in quite awhile actually." He was in the dining room now. I was thinking about his hand at my back, and I wanted it there again. I had shooed him away. I just knew he really knew how to touch a woman, make her feel good, take his time. Was he seducing me? I felt a little bit scared. He was good at touching me, with his words. And its true, I want something, too. IT, so bad. But this can't be IT. Is there anything I could do to change this? Was this a mistake? I wanted to be his, and tonight I was. I was very confused and conflicted. And horny. -------------------------- When he came back in, I looked and smiled at him. He put his hands on me again and I made no move. "The chili is almost ready." I could hear is breath, could feel him there, just a foot or so away. "You are beautiful." The words were drawn out slow and lingering. His hands rubbed down the center of my back, starting at my shoulders down to the top of my butt and back up again, fabric sliding slightly on my skin. He reached his hand around me in an embrace and I felt his fingers cross my stomach, rising up to cup my breasts. The second time today. He found my nipples, tightening under his touch and my head drops, and I let out this moan. Is this happening? His voice is soft, "Why didn't you wear a bra today?" I just shrugged. I didn't know. "I did notice." "Oh David, what are you doing?" "Touching you. Nothing but that. Is this OK?" "Nice. Feels nice." All I could think to say. And I felt like I owed it to him, for being so sweet. His hand retreated again, but only just - it still was lingering at my hip as I finished. Rubbing down my sides, looking at me, contemplating. I could feel his desire, how he wanted more. I felt so fucking desired. I moved to the counter and poured the chili into a bowl for the table. He followed me. I imagined how hard he was. His hand took the edge of my jersey and I felt him lift. "David?" It came out as a question. I was letting him, could not believe what I was letting him do. It was hard to focus, hard to speak. He was so nice, soft, good. I did not move at all, my resistance was melting away. I was so aroused, so desirous. Suddenly exposed, the cool air on my bare ass, and his fingers now touching right at the top of my thigh between my legs. So close. So tantalizingly close. I could feel his fingers brush the hairs of my puss. "Mmph." I groaned a little. It was too much. I arched my back and turned round to face him. His hand falling away. Too good. Too fucking good. All I could manage to say was, "David. The chili is ready." "I have the table all set." ------------------------------------- He took the chili, and I was getting the saltine crackers, some cheese and sour cream. And yes, reaching recklessly for them letting my jersey rise. It didn't feel as if it exactly mattered anymore. No idea what was happening, but not wanting it to end. My David was entering my skin, and I had no ideas. We were still in 'safe' territory I guess, but my thoughts, my wandering thoughts were like this: 'I would LOVE to make out with you, just sit on your lap and kiss you, run my fingers over your skin, kiss your forehead, your eyelids, that little spot on your cheekbone, up by the corner of your eye' 'I would give you little, light kisses right there. Nibble your ear. All innocent. Kiss your neck, your shoulder, that spot in between. Bury my face there, like a little girl. Your little girl, all yours. Press the tip of my nose against the tip of yours, then tilt my head in to kiss you. Suck your bottom lip. Smile at you. Run my fingers through your hair' And then my thoughts continued: 'What would it feel like to have you lay on top of me, press your weight down. Oh!! To feel your weight on me. Tell you to kiss my breasts through my shirt. Wrap my arms around your neck. Rub your back. Feel you pressing your thigh in between my legs, hold it tight up against my sex, the way I love. Just lose myself' Finally, padding out of the kitchen: 'I want to be in bed with you, just kissing, touching, learning your body' -------------------------------------- He had the chairs moved all to one side of the table, and both bowls in front of him. He had already dished the chili. The lights were out, and three candles were lit running down the center of the table. I turned out the kitchen light. Darkness but for candle light. He caught my eye. "Sit down." I paused, taking it all in. "Sit." I did and he continued. "I want to feed you." I wanted to say, 'I can feed myself.' But what I did was sit down in the chair as he had placed it; facing him, with my knees open. He put in some cheese and sour cream into each bowl and stirred it a little. We had our drinks. "Keep your hands by your side, right against the back of the chair. Let me take care of you." When I sat that way, arms along the back of the chair gripping the seat, the feeling was amazing. He said, "Don't move your hands." The feeling was one of being tied there. I leaned forward, holding my wrists at the back of the chair, still gripping the seat. He fed me small spoonfuls as I opened my mouth, closing my lips around the spoon. He was watching my mouth, my tongue catching the drips, feeding me. For just then it was so sensual, like nothing I had ever experienced. I have no idea why. Slowly, we ate, and if I wanted a drink he would put the glass to my lips. While he ate, I waited for him. I was utterly dependent. Each spoon was from him. His little girl. His good little girl. He fed me slow and sweet, his eyes on me. As I sat there, he would pause. Setting down the spoon to run his fingers over my breasts, cover my neck with the palm of his hand; my eyes following his movements as he fed me, fondled me, touched me in the soft candle light. As we ate he was also sliding my jersey higher, higher, higher, until I know he could see my little bush. My dark bush, such a mess! A very messy little affair, all tangles and cowlicks. Set low down between my legs. My little leaking clam shell peeking out between my legs. I was letting him do anything. We felt close, intimate, this wave of love. Desire. Our connection was complete. He says, "We don't have any cheesecake tonight. But I have an idea for desert." I was looking at him, silent. My hear patting away. He stood up. I thought he was going to go into the kitchen. He paused. He looks at me, my head is tilted up. "Tonight, Tonight, I own you." His hand was going to his fly. I am like, oh, no. no! My heart fluttering. Oh god. Hanging on to the chair! He continues, "Yes? Tonight?" It was a question. I meet his eyes and say, "Yes." I watch David in the flickering light as if I were floating to the ceiling. He zips down his fly, opening his pants. I watch it disinterestedly, staring at his cock, at his open fly. I close my eyes. I cannot believe what I am seeing. I don't move at all, my hands at my side against the back of my chair. Bound. In a small voice I say, "Looks like someone else has to take their pants off tonight." He stood back slips off his jeans and stands naked, his cock poking out from beneath his T shirt. A dark shock of hair at its base. A small glistening drop at the end. I lean forward as he moves closer and kis the tip, a warm, lightly sucking kiss, moving my lips down, giving little sucking kisses all the way down the vein on the underside of his cock. Thinking how I wanted it inside me. The thought will not push away. How I wanted to feel, its heft and warmth. Licking my way back up. I Slide my lips over the shaft and pull it into my mouth, all the way, until his cock hits the back of my throat. His hands resting in my hair, running his fingers down my neck and over my shoulders. Breathing out, gasps of air at my yielding mouth. I'm not going to stop, not going to just tease a little, get up and say NO. He curls his fingers in my hair, brushes it from my face and I continue to suck pulling back slow, letting the glistening cock leave my warm mouth. Before, slipping slowly back in. I know what my David likes by the way he clutches at my hair, tightening his grip when I do something that feels particularly good. I am very eager to please, let him guide me into a rhythm. I want to be such a good/bad little girl. And I push his cock in and out of my mouth,further, longer each time, trying hard to get it all the way inside, to eat every inch, I'm not very good at deep throating though, but I do my best. My heart is racing, my blood hot, my pussy is soaking wet, leaking in my seat, swollen, so fucking hungry. Faster and faster. I take a hand away and hold the base of his cock with a firm grip, holding him with one hand as I pump my soft mouth; feeling him respond, bucking into me. I move faster and feel the tightening of his thighs, he freezes holding himself, groaning so deep, resonant. I can feel his cock jerking and the feel of semen. My desert! Filling the back of my throat. I drink it, feeling it slide down my throat. Drinking each spurt. I pull off, and smile my white teeth up at him. All I say is, "Mmmm, You make it yourself?" He was flushed in the face, do I detect a sudden shyness? I lean my head back, feeling suddenly powerful and can't stop smiling. My god what have we done? He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, all smooth, warm and red from rubbing against a beautiful hard cock. I stand back taking his hand and entwine his fingers in mine. "Lets watch a movie. I might have a few more snacks." ------------------------ The movie, of course, will be in David's bedroom and we silently walk into his room. We decide that he in fact owns me until the end of Sunday. A not too subtle agreement I am staying the night. ------------------------- Sara stands by the TV, looking at each DVD laying in a pile to the side. She may not like anything there, an odd thing to worry about. She looks for a while and then turns to me. The Bet "Isn't there a game tonight?" Why yes there is. Has it started? I have no idea the time. It dawns on me what a true football fan my little girl is. I have no idea what time it is and turn on the TV, it is third quarter. The Patriots, looks like a good game. Sara lays lengthways on my bed, letting her jersey ride high, feet to the pillows facing the screen. She lays with her legs splayed open and I can see the cleft of her delicious pussy down the center of her thighs, a curl of flesh pressed out from the line. Her pussy lips, its shiny wetness. I can tell she is aroused and so very wet! She lays watching the game and I settle onto the bed beside her in only my T shirt. Looking at her beautiful body, her lithe frame, formed to the bed, lifted up on her elbows. And I reach out a hand and stroke her thighs, their back and then inside her thighs. My cock is already getting hard again, god she is so fucking hot. I want to make love to her, and it feels right. Will she let me? She waggles her butt again to my touch, and I flip her jersey up over her ass giving me the most perfect image of her tight little ass. She waggles around, turns and says "Hey!" But leaves it there. While staring at that perfect naked pussy, I lay myself so I am curled around her feet and at my side up by her hips. I begin to run my fingers between her legs, and higher until my hand is right between her legs feeling her wetness slipping my fingers along the slit of her puss. "Mmmmm." Her head goes down. She says, "Are you watching the game?" "Yes." I give my cock a few firm strokes, and move myself on the bed. She keeps watching and does not even look back. I lift my leg over her thighs and get onto my knees, and then she does look back. Me on my knees up behind her and my cock sticking straight out. She looks me in the eyes, and without saying anything turns back around. Permission? I spread her legs wider apart, she moving however I position her; I bend low across her back, nuzzling my cock up between her thighs until my face is right at her ear. She looks at me again, our lips an inch apart. "David?" Her warm breath. This lilt in her voice, the most fucking female voice I have ever heard. "You really going to do what I think you are?" "You look too good. I can't resist." She looks back to the TV. "You going to go deep?" "Something like that." and push my cock right up inside. Sara moans so long and good, "Oh, Penetration!" She says. I lay myself down on her and rock my abdomen over her ass, feeling myself tipping inside, she was so fucking tight. She pulls her thighs together making it even tighter. She was meeting my thrusts, and giving these cute moans. I start rocking into her a little faster and her ass begins to rise from the mattress. Her knees lifting up bringing her ass up and I follow her up. She is spreading her knees now, opening up and her ass is sticking up meeting my thrusts. Taking me, and I press in deep, fucking her holding her hips to me. Thrusting and feeling her pulling at my cock, stroking myself off with her pussy. I could tell her focus was breaking, and she presses her face into the bed, turning her head to the side and lifting her ass up like a crouching cat with her hands on the mattress pushing herself hard against me. "Oh, god David, you feel so fucking good. It's been so long. Fuck! Fuck me." Her hands went down between her legs and began to rub her puss, and I can feel her fingers probing at my cock. I pound her into the mattress and watch as she undulates around my cock. At one point, I am getting close and wondering if I should pull out and spray her back. She detects me, and says, "Cum in. You can cum in me. It's alright. I want you inside me." I didn't last long after, a ribbon of cum filling her and she began to push back hard rubbing herself furiously, until she falls down into the mattress and began panting and crying out. "Oh, god David I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Yes." I held myself to her, pushing deep inside. Her hands rose up and she clutched at the cover pulling it around her, as her body relaxed, I was still buried in her, and I slid back a little between her legs. Then we both heard from the TV "Touchdown!!" Sara says, "Fuck yeah.!" ---- I slipped out of my little girl and held myself to her. She looked like she was about to cry. I say, "You alright?" We kissed for the first time. Her eyes were sparkles. She touches my nose and says, "Oh, what do I do now? Since you own me?" ------------------------- We slept in his bed, both of us soft and warm and naked. My arms lay across his naked stomach, my breasts pressed into his chest. That is what we did. Next morning David says he has me all day, and I am laying beneath a single white sheet in his bed, sunlight shining through the window, feeling utterly decadent and wicked. My god, what have we done? I look beneath the sheet. I am a mess, a cum stained, sticky naked mess. He tells me I get no clothes for the day. That I am his. "If my little girl is good I'll give them back to you. You PROMISE to be good." I pull back the sheets and lay there, my nasty little mess of a pussy. My dark hairs are damp twisting in a wild mat, and spread my knees, let him watch my pussy lips part, let him see my gaping cunt. While opening my legs I say "Anything you say." And cup my little ravaged little pussy and squeeze. God I am sore. His eyes on me, he crawls back into the bed. "Such a good little girl." And we repeat, feeding each other, first I suck his cock and then he eats me out. Breakfast. Hah!! Lapping the juices out of my puss, finding my clit, which is so fucking sensitive. We rock over the top of each other in a 69, and my cunny is getting so hungry and wild. I lean down and take his cock in my mouth, before turning around and sitting down, trapping his hard cock to his abdomen. God I am so hungry. "You taste so good. I love breakfast with you. Like the way I taste?" "Salty, sweet, spicy, hot," He says. He is so fucking sweet. More rewards. And I lift up on my knees and work him between my legs and settle back down. So now I am sitting on top, settling myself down, and god as he slips inside, god, I'm kind of sore. How could I not be? David settles his hands down on my hips feeling me rise and fall. So I sit there for a minute feeling all full of him, so hard, so deep inside, his beautiful cock, waiting for my body to calm down, adjust. Stop being sore. Such an exquisite ache. I lean forward, stretch my legs out along his, and kiss his beautiful mouth again, once on the lips and trail line down his neck. Stretch myself down along his whole length trying to press our skin together, trying to feel as much as I can. I love his low groan. It is so nice to just lay here with him inside of me. I begin to rock my hips just a little, this little shock wave of pleasure runs through me. I rock a little harder, feeling him meet me. Still just pleasure, no pain. I pull my head back to look into his eyes, and smile. "This is fucking crazy you know?" His eyes are just looking at me, the pleasure is vibrating from him. "I stayed the night you know? We're lovers." "Yes." And he laughs, that shit eating grin. And I wrap my arms around David and pull us both up into a sitting position, keeping him still deep inside of me. I curl my legs around his hips and settle down close. "I'm serious. I don't want to fuck things up. You're still my brother." He kisses me, and his motion causes me to slip and my clit catches, Oh fucking god! THAT is sore, and the ache almost makes me cum. "Fuck!! That was good." And I start rocking again, slow, soft movements, slippery and warm, tightening my pussy around this beautiful cock that is up inside me. "God, you feel so fucking good." And he is kissing my breasts as we fuck. "We going to fuck all day?" "I may just tie you up." My eyes go wide. "Serious?" He slides his hand down over my ass, down to where I am all stretched out by his cock and runs his fingers over where we're connected. "Feel this," he says, taking my hand and pulling it back. I reach around, arching my back a little and causing him to slide out of me a bit. I let out a little whimper at the movement, the feeling on my clit being crushed, everything is so heightened, so soft, so slow. I slip my fingers down there, feel it all slick and hot, that silky skin of my cunt wrapped tightly around cock. "Mmmmmmm" I moan, rocking my hips again, feeling with my fingers as he slides out, then in. He breathes in my ear. "Maybe I'll tie you up and take a look at you, everything, everywhere. Do whatever I want. You want that?" I'm rubbing the underside of his cock with my finger tips as it heads back into me. A shiver runs up my spine and I move faster. Feel with my fingers, rocking my hips. Feeling myself fucking him. "Can I fuck you again?" "If you are good." His voice is low and he is so hungry, aroused. We are rocking hard together. And it is turning me on, I am crazy. Tie me the fuck up. Twisted. I really start to whimper, rest my forehead down on His chest. "Tie me." I say, and moan into his ear my warm breath, "Tie me," these soft, quiet little whimpers between quick breaths. I can feel us fucking with my fingers, feel it in my cunt. He cups his hands over my ass, squeezing, moaning back at me. "Open your legs wide and look at your cunt. You like that?" I stay tightened against his strong body, he is holding me at the middle of my back, and I can feel everything, getting off on the feeling from my fingertips, the way we fit together. "Touch me?" "If I want." Faster I'm moving, tingles running through my body. I can feel it, that moment just before my orgasm. Thinking about being his, OWNED, inspected, the wildness of my pussy being looked at, opened up. Nothing I can do about it. His pet. His fuck toy. And I am going abso-fucking wild. I start really moaning, louder, longer, my breath coming in gasps. "I'm your little girl. David. You hear me? God take me. Do anything you want to me. Teach me. Bend me. Oh David. David." He grabs my hips, pulls me down onto his cock harder, harder, and I am being fucked harder than I think possible, and I am thrown back onto the bed, his arms holding me up, fucking so hard, and then it hits, and I cry out, clamp my teeth, my cunt squeezing and releasing still being pounded. Fucking fucking god. And this white light envelopes us, and all goes silent. Hot and sticky up inside of me, He is cumming, digging his nails into my ass. We stay like that, wrapped around each other, catching our breaths. My hair is all stuck to my neck and shoulders. I'm leaking cum all over the bed. Gonna have to change the sheets. I press my forehead to his and smile, and he smiles back at me. "Fuck," I say, "That was GOOD. I never." Awhile later I say. "Do whatever you want to me. It's the only way I can get my clothes back right?" "Maybe. Otherwise." He smiled and kissed me, "You might have to stay here forever." ----------------------- Back to now. My Master. I pleaded with David with my eyes. I would do whatever he says, but that didn't mean I wouldn't beg. "Please just let me clean up, I'm covered with cum." "I know, I like it that way. Wait here." He disappears and I wait. I stand there shivering in the middle of the room, feeling a drip roll down my thigh, hugging my middle with my arms to stay warm. My hands have only just been untied. I looked down at my breasts as I wait, pushing my arms in front squeeze them together, feeling a wave of admiration for them, pushed together. I look at my arms all pink from our fucking, my nipples swollen and begging for some attention. David came back into the room carrying some fabric and a pair of boots. He holds the fabric out, my Jersey!. The boots are a pair of very long thigh highs with spiked heels. "That's it??" I stare at him incredulously. "Where are we going?" "Out," he says it with a grin, no explanation will be given. He drops the heels to the floor. I stand still as he dresses me, carefully pulling my jersey over my head. My god, it is not a dress, there is nothing to it. It is too short, so fucking short, it barely covers my crotch. Next he has me sit with my legs spread exposing my ravaged puss and pulls on each boot rising up not more than three inches from my cunt, and zipping the long zipper up all the way. At least the boots covered the streaks of cum. "It was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and I was thinking what would happen when we were all together. When the family gets together. This has been absolutely our secret. What will he make me do with the family all there, but right now I knew - we were going out. Half an hour later we were standing in line in front of a restaurant which I knew had a little dance floor. It was a popular spot and right now very very busy. I felt so completely exposed, and I so obviously had that freshly fucked look. The place had lots of dark corners, and I was terrified of what he was going to do to me once we were inside. I shivered, more in anticipation, my pussy was creaming, seeping up between my naked thighs. I had a death grip on David who casually laid his hand over my ass, pressing his fingers into my crack. I knew better than to not let him, worried at one shift of his hand lifting the hem. As we got near the velvet rope he pulled me close to his side in line and I stayed there, obedient, allowing myself to be nudged forward a few steps as the line grew closer to the door, even though inside I was screaming to be let out of the deal. His little pet, his little girl. He was my master now and I his sub. All around me were people dressed up, no one in a jersey which barely covered them, no one with uncombed hair, no one with thigh high leather boots in spiked heels. I was looking at the girls, thinking there is probably no one standing there with no bra and panties under their skirts. We reached the front of the line and I started trembling. He led me through the doors and we were seated. Part of me was loving this, the wicked anticipation, the wondering, knowing that no matter what he asked, I would do it. Another part of me was terrified, of not knowing. It was one thing to be in his apartment; but, to be in this situation. He pulled me to his side of the table, and indicated for me to get in. It was a big cushioned seat about five feet deep. Red velvet. He had me slide all the way in, and I melted into the wall. My face was this white ghost floating in nothingness. He slid his hand inside my jersey and gave my puss a squeeze. He held his hand at the bare skin of my thigh, his hand slipping in the wetness and cum leaking from me, pulling my leg out and exposing me. The waitress would come and see me I thought, but it was dark, maybe maybe not. I could only imagine what it looked like to the people walking by, a man with his back to them, a long, leather wrapped leg pressed up on the back of the red velvet seat and my 'dress' risen high enough to expose the top three inches of white thigh. My tangle of puss visible if anyone cared to take the time to look. l was part of the attraction, and I thought I could see people stopping, slowing and trying to see. Did they get a feeling, an odd twinge at such a sensual sight. I couldn't stop trembling. David's hands slid between my legs again. "David, they are going to kick us out of here." But I did not move, leaving my hands at my side, instinctively thinking he didn't want me to move unless he moved me. He took his hands away and began to run his warm fingertips down my body, starting at the dip between my collarbones, down over my breasts, over my stomach. The waitress arrived. My shaking increased. I was still so slick and sopping wet, a mixture of both of us, hot as hell, dripping down my thighs. She can smell sex. I sat close to the table, he plunged two fingers inside of me and I yelped out before I could stop myself. He squeezed my puss, warning me to be quiet. "She will have a rum and coke, I'll have a gin and tonic. And we just want dessert tonight. Two cheesecakes." My eyes went wide. My hero!! "Thank you." She eyed us a moment and left. No one was coming near, it was dark and noises were everywhere, a throbbing music. He finger fucked me slowly and I tried so hard not to moan, not to make a peep. I was trembling violently, my chin shook, my lips parted, my breath coming out all ragged and fast, rubbing faster inside of me, touching me the way he does. I was returning the favor, rubbing my hips into his hand making a bobbing motion I could not contain. I set there with my eyes staring ahead and my mouth lolled open, my tongue at my bottom lip. Oh god, making me melt. So good. Oh I was near, so near. Heat rushed through my body and I was so close, almost there, just at the edge, about to fall into orgasm and he stopped. Fuck! Fuck! Make me cum! He Slipped his fingers out carefully, held them to my lips, and I wanted to slap him, A moment where I could knee him in the balls, something, anything. I think he could see the defiance in my eyes, Smiling he said, "Lets eat." The cheesecake arrived, and he fed me. My pussy was burning and I dug it into the seat. God I was on fire and I ached. I had to cum! God dammit, I could not stop squirming. I took the cheesecake in my mouth, so good. I simply said, "Orgasmic." He smiled. I said, "You are a shit." "Behave." His face stern. I took a deep breath, shut my eyes. Opened them again and looked calmly around, became his obedient little girl once again. "My good little girl," he murmured and I smiled. This was the craziest thing I had ever done. He was looking at me again, and I knew. "Get down on your knees." I immediately dropped to my knees beneath the table there in the dark, then stared at him from beneath the table. He had positioned me between his legs. I could feel the warmth of his body on my face as he tugged my head closer. I stared, took a breath, this wave of emotion coming over me. A hard outline in his jeans. I unzipped the fly, pulled out his cock, and looked at it. This part of him, that length sticking straight out at me, this part that could truly be physically inside of me, possess me, fill me. I could take this part of him, envelope it inside of myself, how it could be part of me. One. I could touch him here, right here right now. No one even knew I was under the table. I felt a sudden power, and pressing forward with my mouth. Without touching anything else, I knew I could make his whole body explode in blinding pleasure. Feel it pulse, alive, inside of me. My cunt was on fire. I had to cum, and set it on the cool bare floor, 'Ahhhhh.' I sat there for a moment, lost in this thought, gazing worship-fully at this spot between his thighs, as he stayed completely silent. Waited patiently. Like he knew what I was thinking, could see it in my upturned face. My body swelled with love, lust, desire and for wanting it in me. Alive inside of me. I reached out finally, wrapping my mouth around its entire length. It was so hot to the touch, hard and heavy. I brought my lips back close to the tip, Breathing, almost touching it, I swore I could feel it there, on the tips of my lips, even though it wasn't yet touching. I looked up into my David's eyes, my master, and saw him gazing down intently at me, this glint in his eyes, an expression hard to read in the darkness. The narrow jaw, the eyes that show such love. I looked back at his cock, parted my lips, and softly, so softly, pulled the tip down until the underside of the head, that little sensitive flap of skin, it lightly touched that silky wet skin on the inside of my bottom lip. Ran it slowly across there. Looked up at again in the darkness, my heart in my eyes. The Bet ---------------------- The insanity of what we were doing was not lost on me. I held my fingers in her hair and felt its shiny softness tickle my palm. What were we doing? More and more daring, wild, out of control. Sara was licking my cock now, hidden from view, a stream of people walking by. They could see a figure there if they stopped and looked, someone on her knees head at my crotch - so obvious what we were doing. I didn't bother to look back. She was licking up my length, I loved the heat of her body, her wet tongue tingling against my cock. The wet kisses, invisible kisses, sitting and drinking my whiskey, the little tongue tickling around that little bit of skin just under my cock head. Swirling her tongue around my balls, kissing the tip of my cock. God I loved what she did to me, how well my little girl knew my body. Every moment we had together was this gradual merging. Fucking, we became one - and with it surrender, loss, pain, recovery, peace. I felt her mouth opening, tipping me in, the heat around my cock, her hot mouth - heavy breathing. I had a moment of - should we stop, go? But she was on me now, gripping my cock tight. Stroking me with that beautiful mouth, long delicious swirls of her tongue and I simply held to her. God I wanted to fuck again, turn her around and fuck right here! Her tightness, the way she wrapped around my cock. Her pussy tugging and pulling, its velvet kiss. I wanted to be inside and feel my cock up in her belly. That warmth that is her womb. Feel her cunt squeezing me, holding me inside. And I was, fucking her mouth and I pushed her head against me. I was watching this hand rise up gripping me, I was almost ready to cum, she could feel me tense and then backed away, resisted, and I let her - as she began licking on me again. Playing, punishing. Bad girl. Teasing. Lapping at me, and for a moment looking up at me, smiling, this wonderful innocent smile. Such beautiful big eyes! In the darkness I swear I could just make out the green glint of her eyes. That smile!! I was in heaven, my little girl giving me what I wanted and I stayed. We stayed. And then her mouth on me again, around me. A firm pressure formed by those lips and sliding against me, all the way. taking my cock so deep. I melted, leaned my hand against the wall to hold myself up. All melting together. I was rocking my hips, undulating against her mouth, and as she began letting me slide my cock in and out, deeper and deeper, long strokes - I let out a guttural moan. My whole shining length as her lips grasped around my cock head. And then sinking in. I whispered to no one, "God, let me fuck you." Her eyes in that moment glinting, and a little bite of teeth. Did she hear? I gripped her hair tightly, pulled a little. I knew it hurt, she squeaked a little, I could see the grimace in her eyes. But she held onto me, and I began to move her head on my cock. Held her there, felt her rocking back and forth back and forth. She was just about sitting down on the floor, I could imagine her hot little cunt setting on the cold wooden floor. Dripping our juices onto the wood there. This creamy white stain, my cum stained little girl. Cum was dried in streaks on her legs. I could feel her mouth shivering as we fucked. Faster and faster, and still deeper, I could feel her throat opening around the tip of my cock. Heard her struggling to breathe, holding her mouth open, lips tight on me. And my moaning began to increase, mixing with the sounds of the space. I laughed at the sound, the way it all fit in. Fear and pleasure, its the same thing, isn't it? Can't really tell the difference, and I let myself moan loudly, blending in perfectly with the sounds of the dance floor, the beating rhythm of the music. Ignoring all else, growling low, menacing. Like some animal, and somewhere in my groin, this heat rising, this tickle, my balls tightening and her mouth on me, moving so fast on me, gripping my thighs, the fabric of my pants as tight as she could. Mmmmmmm. "I'm going to cum." I whispered low. My cock was pulsing and I began to tremble, to shake uncontrollably. God this was going to be amazing I thought. I had already cum in her once, but god damn. Cumming twice, the second time is always so much more intense. I wasn't sure if I would be able to look at all normal. What if the waitress came? I already felt like I was falling, falling into my love, the love of my life, this amazing little girl, so devoted, who gave me such pleasure. I worshiped my little girl, loved my little girl, and held her to myself as this incredible release, intense tensions giving way to utter release, and I was bucking forward holding myself against the table. "Oh ah aha.. sweeT Oh My god. So good!" She stayed stock still as I fucked, holding her mouth for me. The cum rising, spraying into her mouth. I watched her drink, taking in as much as she could. White cream filling the corners of her mouth and running down her chin. Long white lines, her red lips, swollen lips, and she was panting. Looking at me, slight panic in her eyes. God I had cum in her mouth. I began caressing her hair looking down, our eyes meeting. Smiling at how she waited. Waiting for permission. The love in her eyes, melting me. Innocence. Good little girl, my slave. This wave of love. Tenderness. And I collect her up, all gentleness and she settles in next to me. She simply says, "There." as I watch her licking her lips; smoothing her jersey, wiping away a spot of cum; looking down at herself, realizing how exposed. I am closing my pants and we are basically pulling ourselves together after making love in the restaurant. I have to take care of her too. I know she wants to cum, that I had been teasing her. I wipe her mouth, the little stream of cum running down her chin "I love you little girl........" followed by an evil glint in my eyes. "Now where should we go......??" I see the pleading in her eyes. I smile, "You're still mine aren't you? Anything I want......I still want to eat you, suck those delicious breasts of yours, chew your nipples. Eat you, fuck you. Make you cum. Bite you, mark you. I haven't even left my mark on you little girl. When I'm through you won't even be able to wear any clothes tomorrow, just the touch will send you into an orgasm." And we head for the door. -------------------- JOURNAL I love to think about this, about being A SUB. Given entirely to somebody. The weekends. One night, maybe two nights? Three?? Four??? A week of nights? LESSONS, I should say, hee hee hee. I am laughing evilly again because I love this idea. I am getting dizzy thinking about it... The Bet "How about you entertain me tonight?" "What?" Sven looked up from the book he was reading. "Now?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, now. What did you think I meant?" Mimi kissed him, pulled the book from his hands and set it on the table. "Do you think you could?" her hand curled into the space between his neck and the collar of his shirt, persuasive. "Are you doubting me?" he raised an eyebrow.. "No, not at all." Mimi shook her head. "I'm tense. I need a little..." she paused, her head rolling in a wide, languid circle. "something." "Such as?" "A shower, maybe. A glass of wine and if you're lucky, maybe more." "Okay then." Sven slid off the sofa and headed towards the kitchen. The possibility that he might actually get laid tonight thrilled him in its intensity. Since they had made their little bet he'd found himself desperate for Mimi's warm softness, her scent, her smile and realised that more than ever, he was utterly focused on making her happy. He surmised it must really be a way of living vicariously through her with her pleasure taking the place of his own. He rather liked it, liked the man it made him and, most of all, liked the woman it made her. He had always loved her but now she glittered to him, existed as the apex of everything he wanted. And yet, when he told her this she would smirk at him and tell him not to be such a silly boy, that she was just a woman, just like any other then pat him gently on the cheek. Sven opened the fridge, glass bottles tinkling in the door and plucked out the wine he'd picked up on the way home, opened it, poured it into the waiting glass. Behind him, she stretched, watched him move from foot to foot like a restless horse, like he did when he was tied up and standing or waiting for something. Mimi had vague thoughts about invisible ropes and then remembered the real ones would need replacing soon enough. It had been years now and they were still using the cheap, soft ones they had bought together all those years ago. For a moment she wondered if she really needed them anymore, if he would stay in place without them. "What are you grinning at?" he placed the glass in front of her. "Nothing." She shrugged, still smiling. "Just about how pretty you look in rope. "Is that what you're planning?" he sat down next to her, slid his feet onto the coffee table. Mimi batted them away, gave him a sideways glance. "Feet off. You know that." "Sorry." "You will be." She grinned, kissing him on the mouth, tasting like summer and sunlight. "If you like you can run me that bath." "I thought you wanted a shower." "Changed my mind." She kissed him on the mouth again. "And before you ask, no; you can't come." Mimi finished the second glass of wine while she towelled off. She dried her hair and pulled on an old, thin sundress she often wore around the house. She had refreshed her eye makeup and happy from the wine and the tension dissolving properties of the bath headed out into the bedroom to finish what she had started. Mimi laughed to herself as the thought crossed her mind; two weeks without and orgasm and she was sure that he'd finish pretty quickly. Still, she mused, it would be fun anyway. Closing the bathroom door behind her, Mimi noticed that he was looking up at her as though it was the first time again and they were not yet used to one another's habits. "Why are you pulling that face?" she asked, sitting next to him, kissing him on the mouth. He held her hand and smiled. "Just watching you." He said, his fingers catching her clothes. "I've always liked you in that dress." "You do?" she raised an eyebrow. "You want a better look at it? How about I take it off?" "Please." He laughed. "It's been a long, long day, baby." He pawed at her thighs from his place on the edge of the bed, rested his head against her belly. Gently, she ruffled his hair, her chest fizzing as he nuzzled into the movement. "You are so cute when you're needy, sugar." She duly dispensed with the dress, left it lying over the chair in the corner of the room. "Washday, I'm afraid, I had to recycle the shitty underwear." She gestured to the greyed underwear she was wearing and laughed. "Well." He shrugged, pulled his own shirt off. "You'd better get them off, too." He lay back on the bed with her, pushed her down so that she curled her arms around him, felt his hard on press against her thigh. "I have been thinking about this all day." He confessed. "You have?" she answered, "Really? Or is that just a sweet line to make me feel better?" Sven frowned at her, said nothing for a moment. "You're the most cynical person I have ever known. Do you know that?" "Do now." She grinned. "But really, is that a line or what?" He nodded again, nuzzled her neck, sent a line of kisses skating across her clavicle. "I missed the exit on the way home thinking about it." "So that's why you were late tonight?" she laughed. "Pull the other one." "No, really. I swear. I was just..." he edged the greying bra strap off her shoulder, kissed the space it left behind. "Thinking of you." "Shut up." Mimi said, her hands flat against his chest, pushing him upward so that once more they sat opposite each other. "You're a liar." Her fingers found his face and cupped his jaw. She kissed him hard as she spoke, the words leaking between the moments when their mouths met. "You're a big, fat liar...and...I think...there's only...one thing that should be done with liars." "What's that?" he grinned. "They should be punished." She said, forcing him onto the sheets again, pinning him down. "Jeans off." "Yeah." His hands pushed forward to help with the belt but she simply batted his hands away so they fluttered like useless moths above his hips. He settled them across his chest and watched reverently as she parted him from his denim and, soon enough, his boxers, too, so that he lay out naked on the sheets, his erection skewed between them. She kissed him hard, pushing his lips apart with such ardour that his eyes flew open with surprise, then closed again as she touched him. Mimi's fingers sank lower until they brushed his cock, jerking it to life. He moaned against her, his back arching a little, betraying him. "What was that you said?" Sven opened his eyes and found her face was inches from his. "I, uh.." "What did you say?" Mimi repeated. "I..." he could feel his cheeks reddening, the tension rising in the back of his throat. "I said no." He admitted. "Sorry, I didn't...I..." In the face of her mild amusement words failed him. Again. Ugh. "You are so cute." She leant forward and kissed him, laughing at the way he still got coy. "I want you to come for me, okay?" He nodded, sucked his lip. "Can we do this some more? I like it. I like to be denied." "I know you do." Mimi said. "But I also like to see you come and I want you to fuck me because you're good at that." Her hand sank flat against his belly, pushed downward until it met his straining cock. "Can you do that for me, baby?" "Yes." He smiled, kissed her back his hand flying upward. "Oh fuck. Fuck, Mimi, this is going to be fast." Mimi laughed again and pulled her hand away, watched him exhale and his dick twitch. Sven tried to centre himself, taking deep breaths, looking up at her. "It's been two weeks." He moaned. "What a noise!" she said, the phrase escaping her lips as a high, musical laugh. She leant back and he mewled again as her long shock of hair trailed across his thighs, bright blonde this week, like the rays of some strange sun. "You know it drives me crazy when you moan like that." He smiled, blushing into the pillow. "Well maybe if you weren't so..." "So what?" she asked, sucking his neck. "Hm?" "I don't know." He lied, answered the question with a kiss. "Please just let's do this." "Someone's eager today?" she teased. "I see not touching yourself is proving quite the experiment. I knew I'd win." "Ah, fuck," he groaned. "It is so distracting, you have no idea. Now, please, just-" "But I do." Her voice was a sing-song, mocking, beautiful in its derision. "I know exactly what it's doing to you." She smirked. "You're so helpful now, so utterly, utterly eager to please me. I like it." "So do I." he breathed. From her curling toes to the ache in her throat, Mimi wanted him more then than she had in a long time. It was an overwhelming rush that meant her hands gripped at him like he was the shore and she clung on, pulled backward by a great tide of emotion. He met her action, luxuriated in her need as she let herself sink against him. Their legs tangled together and she kissed him, pulled him onto her as she settled herself in the warm sheets. Mimi found herself burning for him, not for his mouth or a vibrator or his skilled pianist's fingers but his dick inside of her, his mouth against her neck. Her fingers curled against his shoulder and with unexpected force she pushed him back and climbed onto him. "You have no idea how much I want you now." He grunted, cursed in the dark, his fingers pulling her nearer, digging into her hips, trying to temper the movement. "Slow, slow, slow..." he breathed, her enveloping wetness near unbearable. He swore into her hair and held her tight, laughed when she kissed him for it. "You can do this?" she stopped, pulled her muscles in and relaxed them around his length. "I bet I wouldn't have to move all that much. I could be a really lazy fuck, couldn't I?" she teased. "Damn you." He laughed, his hands tangling into her hair, pushing it from her shoulders. "Oh, shit, babe, it's not going to take much." "So you keep telling me." Mimi raised her eyebrows and shifted her weight, her hands falling against the wooden slats of the headboard. "I've only got to move just a little bit and-" she tailed into more delighted laughter again, watching him grit his teeth. "Look at that face." Mimi landed the lightest of kisses against the corner of his mouth, nuzzled her cheek against his. "You smell so good, you know that?" she stroked his neck, moved on her knees again, upping the pace, her body pressed against him. "Can you hold it 'til I come?" she asked, watching him suck at her nipple. "Can you?" "Yeah." He said, his fingers still pressing into her thigh, his hips pushing upward to meet her movements. "Oh, God. It's so good." He sighed, lay back against the headboard and the awkward fan of pillows beneath him, luxuriated in the feel of her slick warmth enveloping him. Sven inhaled the scent of her soap scented skin and the first bloom of sweat on her neck. It was too hot in the room but he was past caring, mesmerised by her and how much better it was once it arrived. She leant back so that his length pushed further into her, began angling herself in such a way that every every ridge and vein, each millimetre of flesh tingled with building desire. He cursed himself for each orgasm he'd had without her, every wasted opportunity hidden behind the bathroom door. "Baby-" the word came twisting into the dark, made her eyes flash open as she watched him come, shaking beneath her, cursing himself and then, stilling, breathing hard and hyper aware, watching her move above him. Thrilled by his reaction, she moved faster, delighted in the way he mewled and winced and waited for her. Sven exhaled hard and was rewarded for his trouble with a kiss that barely slaked his need, evaporating in the face of the need that tore through him like a single droplet of water in the midst of an unforgiving drought. Inevitably, Mimi thrilled in his need, drank it up as she fucked him, bending to kiss him and whisper glittering insults into his ear. Soon enough, the tension in her gut became too great and she sank her nails into his shoulder. "Oh," her hips moved in slower circles, smaller and tighter, building toward the inevitable. "Oh, you're such a good boy." She purred. "My sweet boy." Her hand pressed awkwardly into the cleft of his neck and Sven winced, urged her on despite the difficult angle; he was too full of love and endorphins to care, too desperate to watch her orgasm in his lap to think of much else. "Do it, baby. Do it." He breathed. "Come for me, baby. Come on." Mimi's grip on his neck hardened and she moved harder despite her cramping leg and the heat in her thighs. The shiver between them was too good to stop, the feel of him inside of her, his scent and sweet words made her own mouth ache until she realised she could hardly wait for the second time before the first had even finished. She wanted to gorge on him, to use him until every desire of hers had been slaked and he was broken by it. It was that thought, flickering up in the dark behind her eyes that did it; the thought of him exhausted and begging her to stop that brought on the unstoppable wave of orgasm. She pushed her palms into the headboard, his face buried in the smoothness of her torso as she spasmed, hard and slick against him. For a moment she stilled, breathing hard, then moved sideways, pulling away and lay sprawled across the bed, their legs still knotted awkwardly together. "You okay?" he grinned. Mimi nodded, laughing, breathing hard. "Yeah. Fuck." "I'll take that as a compliment." Mimi laughed again, still humming with post orgasmic heat. "Please do." "Good." "You?" Sven bit his lip, blushed a little. "Sorry it was so quick." Mimi shrugged. "I know. Don't worry. Maybe next time you'll be better." "When's next time?" he asked. "Ah," Mimi jabbed him in the arm. "Like the denial, do we?" "Yeah, I do." "Well, it sure does make you attentive, that's clear." Mimi mused. "Imagine if we do it properly and I get you a chastity device." "Oh." Sven sat up, propped his head in his palm. "Really?" "I'm toying with the idea." Mimi said. "The only thing is, I quite like having him out all the time." Her hand brushed her boyfriend's cock. "It's your call." Sven said. "And yours, sweetie." Mimi brushed a strand of hair away and kissed him again. "Maybe I'll just keep the no touching rule for now." "Okay." Sven smiled. "I'd like that." "So would I." Mimi sat up and walked over to the wardrobe. She pulled the toy bag from the bottom of the wardrobe. "I'd like to tie you up now. Do something else. I've barely even begun." She said, her voice taking on that familiar musicality again, full of plans and promises. "what?" Sven watched her eyes flicker from the bag to his face and then back to the bag again. "Just thinking." She said. "Also, I'd like you to sit down to pee from now on. So you're not tempted to touch." "Oh." Sven blushed, found himself full of the delicious heat of subspace. "You would?" "Yes." Mimi said, the delight clear in her voice. "All the time?" "You shouldn't even have to ask." She said. "Of course I mean all the time." "Yes, Ma'am." He said, giggling like a schoolboy. "Oh, so you think it's funny, do you?" she bounded over and straddled him again, their mouths meeting. "Every time you take a piss you'll think of me and of not touching, sugar, and I promise you, you won't be laughing, not for a moment." She kissed him on the forehead. "Now, how about a little tying up? Wouldn't that be fun?" He nodded, grabbing her harder now. "You are the very devil herself." He laughed. "And an angel, a gift from the Gods and I don't ever know what I'd do without you." He kissed her hand, the hard edge of her engagement ring catching his lip. "You are more brilliant and more tortuously delicious the longer I love you." He grinned. Mimi laughed, pulled him close. "Listen to you." She sighed, "All that sweet talk is going to get you in trouble one day." She pecked him on the cheek. Sven grinned. "Good." He said. "Can't wait for that." It was perhaps the most ironic part of denial, he realised, that the less he was allowed to touch the more he thought about it or, more accurately, thought about her touching him. "Stop that." "What?" Sven looked up from the storyboard he was reading and eyed Jim. "Stop clicking that fucking pen. You've been doing it for ten minutes. I'm trying to work." "Sorry." He kept his face deadpan, went back to looking at smiling families eating Sunbake bread. "Everything okay today, you seem distracted?" "Yeah." Sven said. "Fine." He thought about the conversation again when he sat waiting for the devil herself in a café across the street. "Hey you." Mimi grinned and dumped her bag on the table, kissed him on the cheek. "Did you order yet?" "Nope." He smiled. "I was waiting for you. Have a good day?" Mimi nodded, pulled her hair into a ponytail, moved the bag to the floor. "Did you?" He laughed, raised an eyebrow. "Apparently, this level of distraction goes away. I just have to persevere." "It's only the fifth day. You will." She said, gestured to a passing waiter. They both ordered coffee, decided to eat later. "Anyway, you'll be fine. Ready for le gym?" He nodded. "Of course. Thanks for the helpful suggestion." "Thanks." Mimi chose to ignore his sarcasm. "How's the bread thing you're doing?" "Bready." Sven said. "I never want to look at it again and their people are so indecisive. I've never seen anything like it. We've come up with three good ideas and they hate them all." "Can't you decide for them?" Mimi asked. "Give them a nudge." "We're working on it. Phil and I are seeing them tomorrow." "You? Sold the Marie Celeste yet?" "Don't call it that." Mimi groaned. "No one wants that damn painting. The people who buy this stuff want well-known artists. Harry's prediction that Daniel Hirschmann would be the next big thing is clearly misguided. That said, the commission on it would be very welcome." "Good otherwise?" "Yup. Anyway, gym." Mimi leant back as the waitress returned, planted two steaming mugs onto the table. "It'll do you good. Help with things." She raised an eyebrow and looked down at her cup, hid her smile behind it. "Theoretically." "If it makes you feel any better, I've been thinking about this most of the day, today too." "You have?" Sven said. "Really?" "Why wouldn't I?" Mimi answered. "It's hot." "I didn't think you liked it. I thought you said you liked it when I was available." "You are." Mimi spooned sugar into her cup. "For me." He bit his lip, and she laughed, looked nonchalantly out of the window. Mimi hadn't expected to find it appealing, it seemed to go against everything that made any kind of sense at all but, there it was flickering inside her. "You know I'm really surprised, actually." She explained. " I had no idea how appealing I'd find this. It really feels like it's truly, definitely mine now." "You have got to stop talking like that." Sven shook his head, the spoon poised over the cup. "Honestly, not in public." "Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?" "You have no idea." He shifted in his seat, crossed and uncrossed his leg from his lap for the nth time that day. "How was Sophie? Didn't you meet her for lunch today?" "When have you cared about that?" Mimi laughed, surprised to hear him ask. "I like this new you. Interested in my plans with the girls all of a sudden." "It's not new." "I know." She agreed. "I think I'm more open than I used to be and you're making more of an effort. It's good." "Definitely. I like it." "So do I." Mimi smiled. "I feel like I have the dynamic I always wanted. It's the old tension back. Like we used to have back in the beginning when you were so desperate to please me." "I always have been." He said, feeling like he could split with love. "Not for a minute have I stopped wanting to make you happy." "Aww." She laughed again. "Making me feel like the girl who won first prize all the time." The Bet "Uh. Hardly." "Yep." Mimi sipped at her drink. "Every damn day. I hid this for so long and now I have it it's better than I ever thought it could be." He smiled. "It's so good to hear you say that." Mimi nodded, squeezed his hand in hers. "So what else have you done today?" * * * * It was just after seven in the evening when Mimi pulled herself out of the pool and headed towards the gym's changing rooms. She stepped into one of the small shower cubicles that ran down one side of the ladies' changing rooms and turned on the hot water, crackling with the shock of endorphins from her swim and the surprising side effects of denial. Initially, she had expected it to be some fun game to make Sven needy. Mimi had wondered if it was something she could exploit for a couple of days and then forget about. Though she'd heard about it and seen countless porny set ups on the internet, it really hadn't been something that appealed. She flipped open her shampoo bottle and began soaping her hair. Not for a second had she expected the other effects of denial, the things no one seemed to mention; she liked the power that came with telling him what and when and how, she liked knowing in a tangible, definite way that she owned him and he would obey her. She rinsed off then dried herself, dressed and fixed her makeup. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail and watched her reflection, not for a moment had she ever imagined this life for herself; For a moment she worried that it would fail, as everything seemed to do. Mimi batted the thought away and headed towards the machines. "Still going at it, I see." She leant against a frame holding yoga mats and looked down at Sven. "Yeah." He sighed heavily and set down the weights he was using. "Two minutes and I'll be done. Go and have a coffee, I'll meet you out there." He nodded towards the foyer. Mimi set her bag on the floor and smiled. "It's okay. I'll wait. How many more reps do you have to do?" "One more set of ten and then I'll shower." "How about more?" Mimi suggested. "For every extra lift you do, I'll give you one minute." Sven laughed. "Really?" "You're blushing." "I know. Hah, I can do that no problem." Sven lay back on the bench and picket up the weights again. "Stop. Sit up." Mimi said. "There's a catch." "There always is." Sven shook his head, acutely aware of the reignited tension that fizzed between them. He was filled with that old yearning to please, to make Mimi happy at any cost. "Switch those weights for ones that are a couple of kilos heavier. For every rep you do, you get -- or I get -- one minute." "You get one minute?" Sven cocked his head. "You still can't touch yourself but I can. After all, it is mine." She smiled. "Be quiet!" Sven's voice hushed low. "We're in public." Mimi shrugged, "One minute of touching per rep. You can start when you're ready and there are up to twenty minutes on offer. You can have that time when we get home." Sven wailed, the noise twisting into a knotted laugh as he lay back. "Damn you. You have no idea how glad I am to be wearing these shorts right now." "I should say the whole room is glad." Mimi smiled. "Apart from me. If we were alone and this place was empty you wouldn't even be wearing them." Her voice was a low purr. "You can't..." the weights went down for the first time and Sven looked up at her awkwardly. "talk like that kitten. Not in public." "Don't pretend you don't like it." She teased. "Exactly." The second repetition finished and Sven fixed his eyes on the movement of his arms and beyond them, a patch of damp on the ceiling. "Number three." "I bet that's all you'd need." Mimi smirked. "You might as well stop now and we can all go home." Sven said nothing, narrowed his eyes at her and pushed into the fourth and then the fifth rep. They racked up fast, the sixth, seventh and eighth coming quickly, Sven settling and trying to focus on nothing but the task in front of him. By the tenth rep, the new, heavier weights were beginning to make their presence known as a dull throb between his shoulder blades. Far from being unpleasant, the ache became a comfort as he moved. "Liking this, aren't you?" Mimi said. "Maybe." Sven smiled, couldn't help himself. It was true; this was a game that he'd happily lose, whatever that meant, if only to have Mimi chiding him for his failure. "How do I fail, really?" he said. "If I don't do the reps, I don't...you know...and if I do." His arms went down with the thirteenth move and he looked up. "I still win because I have you." Mimi laughed. "I suppose. Either way you're enjoying it. I am too. I don't quite know how this is supposed to go yet." "Do you care?" "I like both sides. Both possibilities." She said. "I like that you don't get to choose and I do." "That's hot." "I know." Mimi agreed. After all this time he still looked good in a sweaty t-shirt. "You know what I like the most?" "What?" Sven asked, welcomed the sixteenth repetition with a groan. "I like that you like it." Sven focused on the last few moves, trying to remain attentive to his form and breathing and not on Mimi or the way her hip jutted to the side as she watched him and her hair fell over one eye. If it had been his call, he would have kissed her then and there to at least alleviate a little of the tension but as the weights hit the floor with a resonant thud, Mimi pushed her hand between them, stopped him. "No touching until I say so." She said. "Good work, babe. Do you want to eat?" "Not really." He answered. "I just want to go home. Claim my prize." He pulled her close, his hands twisting around her waist. "Please." Mimi ran her hands up his arms, tiptoed upwards. "You disobeyed me." "Sorry." He laughed. "I love it when you get greedy." She whispered. Her voice raised as she spoke again. "Now, go and get a shower and I'll meet you in the car." "How on earth do people do this for a long time?" Sven asked the question aloud as Mimi stood in the hallway fiddling with the door keys. "You're awful" she laughed. "It's been barely a week and you're whining." The door groaned and Mimi stumbled forward. "Bloody lock." She beckoned Sven toward her, threw the keys on the table by the door. "Get in here, baby." "Damn." He spoke the word as he ruched towards her, nuzzled against her neck. Sven kicked the door shut and returned his focus to Mimi who had kicked away their bags and coats and was focused on pulling him toward the bedroom. "Everything is amplified." Sven said. "They way you touch me, the way you talk and you've not even removed a shred of clothing from either of us." "In time." Mimi said. "You can remove your own clothing. Do it while I'm in the bathroom." She nodded towards the bed and slammed the door behind her. She stripped to her underwear, grabbed a small bottle of oil, headed to the kitchen. "What are you doing?" Sven balled up his clothes and threw them into the corner. He watched her walk through to the kitchen. "What is that?" Mimi shook a small hourglass at him as she came back. "This." "Oh." Sven said, annoyed and surprised by his reaction, by the intensity such a seemingly innocuous object could lend to the occasion. "You weren't joking, were you?" Mimi shook her head. "I never joke when it comes to you, sweetie. Lie out and we'll begin." Sven obeyed and looked up at her, his hands pulling her nearer, his body humming with anticipation still full of endorphins from the gym. It seemed to have made it worse not better. "Is that oil?" Mimi nodded, pulled back, and he watched her pour a little into her palm then hover tortuously close to his hardening cock. Pausing, she shifted and rubbed it gently between her palms. "I'm going to go really slow." She said, her voice soft. "Plenty of time, don't want you finishing too quickly, do I?" "No." Sven shook his head. "No, Ma'am." "Good boy." Mimi's hands hovered so close to his member that Sven could feel the heat emanating off them. Mimi grinned, "This is too easy." She teased. "Who knew you had this soft spot, huh? If I'd known you'd be so compliant I would have done this years ago." "I didn't know." Sven shook his head, half wished he had never found out. "Pity." Mimi planted her hands flat against his hipbones, watched him jerk upward in surprise at the sensation. "Fuck." "What?" "That's hot." She said, her fingers moving softly across his belly then, lower. "Let's start with everything but." She breathed, "Your thighs first. Deep breaths." Sven did as he was asked the breath curling from him in a low quiver of anticipation. He shifted his leg and Mimi caught him by the ankle, pulled it back into position so that he was spread out on the bed. "Don't fidget." She smiled. "You're always moving around, just be still." "That's easy for you to say." He laughed despite the ache between his thighs. "Are you complaining?" "Oh, no." he shook his head. "I don't want to come, I like this. I'm just saying." "Right." Mimi nodded slowly, her hands working across his thighs again, falling lower, her thumbs pressed gently against his perineum. "Of course you are." She bent and kissed his thigh. "Christ, I thought you were going to-" Sven tailed off, stared at his cock. "You should be so lucky!" Mimi tossed her head to the side, a single fingernail tracing over the engorged flesh. "You're going to be in for a bit of a wait. I'm not though, I've decided you can get me off tonight." "Really?" Sven said, sitting up slightly. "I can?" "Of course." Mimi nodded wordlessly, fixed on her lover's tender erection and the low mewls that accompanied it. At first she faltered but soon found a rhythm that had him on the edge, her own sex throbbing with a stronger desire than she had felt for a long time; the paradox of denial. For a while they were both happy to luxuriate in the sensations, the contented comfortable silence that grew up between them. Eventually, Mimi spoke. "I've been thinking." "That's dangerous." Mimi grinned to herself, wiped a glinting bead of precum from her boyfriend. "I think you should get a sheath dildo." "What?" he looked up. "One of those ones that goes over your cock so that when you fuck me, you don't." Sven shook his head, winced as Mimi hit a nerve with her nail. "Oh," he sighed heavily. "I knew this would be a fucking can of worms." "Heh." Mimi moved forward and curled up next to him. "Maybe. I was just thinking aloud." "Were you?" Sven rolled over, rested his hand on her hip. "Yep." Mimi bit her lip. "I may have fingered myself to that thought earlier, too." "What?" he sat up. "When?" "This morning. In the shower. Which is weird because usually, I never do it in the shower." She shrugged. "So I have spent the past five days sitting down to pee and wearing roomy trousers and you have been knocking one out behind my back?" "Several times." Mimi said. "In bed, too. Before you came home last night. I'm not the one being denied." "Hmm." He pressed himself against her, Mimi's scent all soap and the citrus tang of her perfume and her soft warmth against his hardness. It was all that much more acute now, Sven thought. "What did you think about?" "You want to know?" she turned in his grip, let him slide his hand between her slickening thighs, push her panties to the side. He mumbled his concurrence into her hair and, in response, she let out a low sigh, priming herself. "I thought about you tied to that chair." She said, nodded to the low seat in the corner of the room. "I thought about fucking someone else while you burned with envy. I thought about fucking you with a dildo bigger than your cock, which wouldn't be difficult, I know." She kissed his neck, pushed her hips upward to meet his quickening fingers. "I thought about making you measure yourself against it, to show me." "Fuck." He gripped her thigh, pushed his erection against the warm softness of her bottom. "You can't talk like that." "Of course I can, silly." Mimi turned, kissed him again, her hand weaving into his hair. "And I thought about finally letting you fuck me with that pretty cock of yours -- mine." She smiled as she said the word, her hand curling around it. "Maybe by that point-" she groaned, her hands moving upward, gripping at the pillow. "Maybe by that point I wouldn't have been fucked by anyone or anything for a while so I'd be wet and tight and I'd let you take me." "Please..." the word seemed a reflex, Sven wasn't quite sure what he wanted; he wanted everything she'd suggested right then and there. "Oh, babe, that's hot." "I know." Mimi's mouth met his as she rode his palm, his dedicated fingers urging orgasm from her. "I had this thought about making you wait, too." She explained. "Like now?" Mimi shook her head. "No, making you wait until we're married. Maybe the next time you come should be our wedding night. Wouldn't that be perfect? A true sign of dedication." "We haven't even set a date." "I know." Mimi's hand twisted into the pillow, harder this time. She threw her head back. "I'll just make you wait." She sighed. "Make you attentive; utterly dedicated to me." Before Sven could answer, Mimi was shuddering and undulating her hips harder against his fingers, orgasm wracking through her in a hard and heavy wave that moved every fibre of her body so that when she finally stilled herself and lay against him she was silent and utterly satiated. For a few moments they lay still, Sven's mind rushing to assimilate Mimi's fantasies and the real world implications of what she had suggested. " Do you really mean it about the long term denial thing?" he asked. "I'm toying with it." Mimi said. "It's true. I rather like that idea. You might not, though. I don't know. If it's too much too soon I'll understand." "No." Sven's hand flew up then quickly sank down again. He shocked himself with the gesture, by just how much he was terrified and turned on by it. "I mean," he shrugged, nonchalant. "Shall we see how this week goes?" "It's nearly the weekend anyway." Mimi said. She sat up and siled down at him, kissed him again. "You're doing the leg shake again. Stop it. Nervous energy isn't good for you." "Can you blame me?" he raised an eyebrow. "Baby steps." Mimi nodded, "Baby steps. Now come and make me food. Preferably something carb heavy, it's cold outside." "Okay." Sven nodded. "Can you pass me a t-shirt?" Mimi threw one from the wardrobe and nodded towards the bathroom. "Just think on it." Sven was wordless, nodded. State the damn obvious, he thought. Though, knowing her, Mimi had probably thought that, too. "I think this has escalated past a bet now." He said, pulled on some sweatpants. Mimi stuck her head around the bathroom doorway, dried her hands on a towel. "Probably. We should call it off." "So no one wins." Sven smiled. "How convenient." "Is that sarcasm I hear, Aachen?" Mimi strode towards the kitchen. "No, Ma'am." He followed her and pulled open the fridge. "What do you fancy?" "Pasta if it's going. Doesn't have to be fancy." "Okay then." Sven pulled a pan from a cupboard, added water and salt. "Is it wrong I'm turned on by having to do simple things for you now? Like, I just noticed this. Making you dinner," he shrugged, shook his head at her. "This is going to drive me crazy for you in a way that it never used to." Mimi hugged him. "I know." She pulled open the fridge. "I really like that. Have a beer." She passed a bottle to him, watched him twist off the lid. "Now tell me about your day." The Bet You must all have heard about the gambler who having lost all of his money in a card game then stakes his car in an effort to recover all that he has lost. He loses and, unable to imagine life without a car throws the deeds to his house into the pot. The losing run continues. The gambler is wondering how to tell his nubile young wife that they have nowhere to live when she walks into the room carrying refreshments. Looking down the loser finds that he has just been dealt his best hand of the night and asks what will you allow me against my wife. Looking lasciviously at the proffered prize, the winner says, "All that you have lost so far." So the loser stakes his unknowing wife and finds that he is against the best hand possible in the game. I would not have done that. I am not querying the nature of his bets but every seasoned gambler knows never to chase his losses. Sally and I have been married just over six and a half years. Seven-year itch - hell no. We both felt as if we were still on honeymoon with her as hungry for me as I was for her. With her lovely figure, pert full breasts and a face to die for, Sally is the best looking girl that I have ever seen, bar none. I am employed by an estate agent, at an office unfortunately situated in a completely different area from the insurance company where my wife works. Although both she and I earn well we are always rather short of money because we rather over stretched ourselves on the house that we are buying. This meant that our socialising was severely limited but this was no hardship because we were so happy with each other's company. Our lives, (for that read sex lives), were so good that we deliberately avoided having a child for fear that a third person in the equation might spoil the rapport we had enjoyed since the first moment. The first small cloud appeared on the horizon one night during our even meal when Sally announced, "I think I'm being followed." I laughed and said, "Whatever makes you think that?" Sally didn't think it was funny. "Well three times I have looked back and seen the same car moving slowly a long way behind and on another occasion I saw it parked near the office where I work. It's a very flashy car, a low slung two seater in a bright metallic blue with darkened windows." "You have probably seen different cars and just assumed it was the same one because it's a bit unusual." "No it's definitely the same car because I saw the registration. It's a private number DONN 1 - it was the same every time." "It's probably someone who works in the same area and who is therefore on the move at the same time as you. I admit it looks a bit suspicious but there is almost certainly a simple explanation." Sally accepted this at the time but late the following week she said, "I definitely am being followed. I've seen that car outside my work at 5 o'clock three times this week. Also, since the hot weather started a crowd of the girls go to the park at lunchtime to eat our sandwiches - well every day except the first, the blue car has been parked just outside the gates. I'm sure that he is in the park somewhere near - he knows me but I have no idea what he looks like." "You say 'He' - how do you know that there is only one person in the car?" "I just know and I also know that it isn't a woman. It's some kind of instinct and I am also convinced he is watching me. I can feel it - I also feel it when I'm in the park. The park might be imagination but the other isn't because I can feel it before I even see the car." The following week she reported seeing it at least once every day and on the Friday she said it had been parked outside the railway station when she set of for home. I pretended to take all this seriously but secretly believed that it was someone who had recently started working in an office near my wife and who followed a similar routine. I found that I was mistaken on the Saturday afternoon when Sally ran to where I was working on my PC shouting that the blue car had just been in the street. All of the houses in our cul-de-sac have minuscule back gardens so all the young wives tend to do their sunbathing on the bit of grass at the front. It was a gloriously sunny day and Sally had been out in her bikini taking advantage of the weather. Rolling over she saw the blue car standing in a position that allowed the driver an oblique view of her through the open gate. Realising he had been seen, the driver drove away and turned the car round at the end of the road. Sally had jumped up and stood watching him drive slowly back but was perturbed when he stopped just the other side of the hedge. For about two minutes they engaged in a staring match even though she could not see him. Sally says that she was mentally challenging him to lower the window and reveal himself but although at one point she thought he was going to, he drove off instead. On the Sunday, despite the incident of the previous day, my wife insisted that I go down to the pub as usual while she prepared Sunday lunch. I was half way through my first pint when a voice called out "Daniel" and the next moment a complete stranger had rushed up to slap me on the back and start vigorously pumping my hand. "Danny, Danny Hall, what the hell have you been doing with yourself all these years, you old rogue?" he asked with a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. It took me several minutes to convince the man that I was Phillip Pope and not who he thought I was. The main difficulty was that for a time he was convinced that I was just winding him up with my denials. In the end he apologised and added, "Dan was a good looking sod like you that's how I got mistaken. You know, I still can't believe that you look so much like him - or at least how I imagine him to look after twelve years." I mumbled for him to forget it and tried to turn away but he grabbed my arm and said, "Look mate, I've made a right fool of myself - the least that I can do to make amends is to treat you to a pint." It would have been churlish to refuse and we started chatting. My new friend introduced himself as Damien Hurst and explained that he and my look-alike Dan had been best mates all through school but had lost touch when they went to different universities. Damien was about two inches taller than me and slightly heavier but although he had an appealing face it was far from being classically handsome. He was about my age, well spoken and pleasant, if possibly rather over enthusiastic. I bought him a pint in return and while drinking this he reminisced about Dan. "Everybody referred to us as the two D's and what a team we made. We went through the sixth form girls like a knife through butter - with his looks and my personality we couldn't miss. Look, if you are free, why don't we meet up tonight - it will be nice to feel like the old team again even though you're not him. Look I can absolutely guarantee you a really fancy piece of tail if you come with me." I refused the offer, pointing out that I was married, but then, against my better judgement, allowed him to buy me another pint. "With all the beautiful women about in the world, I think that men who get married are stupid, especially a good looking guy like you." "I have a beautiful wife and I am very happy with her. I very much doubt if I could ever get another woman as good." "Course you could," he stated emphatically. "I am hardly film star material but I can get any woman in the world so I never go with a female who is not top of the range beautiful. There are thousands out there waiting, like ripe fruit on a tree - I just choose the one that I want and then I pluck her." "And to what do you attribute this irresistible power over women?" I asked sarcastically. "What have you got - an inexhaustible supply of chat up lines?" "I don't rate chat up lines much because they antagonise some women - no my secret is an in depth understanding of female psychology," he answered seriously. It sounded like bragging to me. "Come on," I said, "You've got to be exaggerating. I believe that you do all right for yourself but you must have had some failures." He shook his head, "Not that I remember - and I would remember because if that ever happened I'd be mortified." I still didn't believe it. "Surely a proportion of the beautiful females you fancy must be married and in love with their husbands." "Doesn't make the slightest bit of difference," he stated categorically but then paused and added, "Actually married women are easier. Single girls have a built in resistance to men approaching them but the married ones are out of practice and therefore more vulnerable." He was beginning to annoy me. "I don't believe it - I know you couldn't seduce my wife for a start." "Is she worth seducing," he asked guilelessly. "She damn well is. Sally is as least as good looking as any one of your so called conquests," I almost shouted. To prove the point I took out my wallet and slammed it down on the bar in front of him open at the picture of my wife. He looked at it a bit too long and then conceded, "Very, very tasty. I admit that I could easily be tempted to offer her the pleasure of my body." "You've no chance - never in a million years." Now sick of his company, I started to move away, prepared to abandon the beer remaining in my glass. "I bet I could - easy peasy," he insisted. The word 'bet' snagged on my old long suppressed gambling vice. I turned back towards him but said contemptuously, "And what are you prepared to risk, five pounds - a tenner." Instead of answering he asked, "What is the most fabulous holiday that you can imagine?" "That's easy, "I said. "Less than a month ago I was looking at a brochure advertising a three month luxury cruise round the Mediterranean and Aegean. Very nice but it cost over £20,000." "I will pay for that holiday and throw in £5000 spending money if I lose," Damien said simply. I couldn't believe it but I could see from the man's face that he was completely serious. It was unbelievable - how often do you get the chance to win the equivalent of £25,000, betting on an absolute certainty. "What do I have to risk on my side?" I asked, looking for the snag. "Nothing financial at all - if I win then I just go on the holiday with your wife instead of you." "She'd never go with you." "I think that if I had already seduced her there would be a strong possibility that she might," he smiled I had a strong urge to punch his smug face but instead I said, "You're on - it is going to give me great satisfaction to see you taken down a peg." Damien stuck out his hand. "It's a bet then." "You bet it's a bet," I said, adding "There ought to be a time limit though - if you haven't succeeded in a month then I think it's fair to say that you will have lost." Damien thought a moment and then said, "A month is a bit tight but I agree. You will have to introduce me and allow me to work my charm, I can't win if I don't get a bite at the cherry." "That's fair," I agreed, "but I don't want you pestering her outside. You can come to the house to talk to her but you must do it with me listening." "That is sensible but I have to insist on two or three hours alone with her. A public place such as a restaurant would be fine." "I can't object to that - have you any other conditions?" "It's not exactly a condition but it might be an idea not to mention the bet to your wife because women don't like being the subject of things like that. You can say that I am an old school friend you met at the pub and as for the restaurant, I will book a table for three but when we get there you will have arranged a telephone call dragging you away. At the end of the evening I will send your wife home in a taxi." The final agreement was that Damien would visit for the evening on four successive Friday's and that the restaurant visit would take place on one of the intervening Wednesday's. To counter a doubt I had expressed, he promised to bring on his first visit a receipt for the holiday together with documentation that would prevent him backing out of the bet." I returned home with a mixture of elation and trepidation - elation at the thought of the holiday that was as good as won and trepidation from the fact that I was returning home almost an hour late to a meal that was certainly spoiled. As expected Sally was not very pleased but I said that something rather unusual had come up and that when I explained she was going to think it worth while for me to have delayed. Despite her pleas, I refused to say anything more just then but promising that she would know everything when we had finished eating. We struggled through the food and then having set the scene with drinks in our hands I said, "Remember the holiday brochure that was pushed through the door about a month ago and that fantastic cruise that that was advertised in it - well, you are going to be on it." Sally looked at me blankly. "How can that be possible - you know we haven't got that kind of money." "We are not paying for it, someone else is," I said smugly. "So who is mysterious benefactor, a little green goblin, a fairy godmother or some other figment of your imagination?" "Honest it's a real guy. It started in the pub when he mistook me for someone else. We started chatting, one thing led to another and it finished with him offering to pay for the holiday - and provide £5000 spending money. He's called Damien Hurd." Even as I spoke I realised how implausible this sounded." "Who exactly is Damien Hurd?" "I don't know," I said. "I've never seen him before." "Let me get this straight," Sally said sceptically, "This stranger mistakes you for someone else and then offers to finance a holiday for old time's sake even though you are not the person he thought you were." I had no choice but to tell her the full story. "Phil, how could you - it's obscene," she said when I had finished. "Well I am having no part of it - you can go straight back to the pub and tell him that the stupid bet is off." "He did say that I shouldn't tell you about the bet." "Well at least he has more sense than you in that respect." "I thought it was only fair that you should know the full picture." "No - you thought I might be more vulnerable if he was allowed to creep up on me. Apart from that - if he can't win then it is immoral to take his money." "You haven't seen him," I protested. "He is a braggart with more money than he knows what to do with and he has a very high opinion of himself - thinks that he's God's gift to women. It will serve him right to pay for his mistake. Anyway, we left the pub at the same time so we will have to cancel the bet when he arrives Friday evening - if you still want to." Sally nodded her agreement to this saying, "I must admit that I am interested to know what he's like." I was very reluctant to let Damien off the hook so in the days that followed I kept dropping insidious little remarks like, 'We will never be able to afford a fabulous holiday like that but I bet he can pay for it without blinking an eyelid.' On the Thursday she asked me, "Haven't you ever thought that he might win?" I told her 'Not for one second'. For a moment she looked enigmatic as if I might be wrong, then rushed forward to give me a big kiss for my confidence in her. Damien arrived dead on the stipulated time. I let him in and effected the introductions, describing him as an old school friend. He took my wife's hand and kissed her fingers in an excess of gallantry but in no other way did he give the impression of being the great seducer. The exuberance from the pub had gone and instead he seemed nervous and almost overawed by the situation. On prompting by Sally, he related incidents from our supposed schooldays together, most likely true but featuring Dan not me. My wife never let on that she knew this was a charade, at times aiding the illusion by turning to me and saying innocently, "You never told me about that Phil." Damien behaved impeccably throughout the evening except that he did gaze at Sally more than was polite but this was at her face rather than her body and more like a lovesick swain than a lothario. The moment he left I asked, "So what do you think of him?" "He is not at all like you described him. I thought he was nice - very nice in fact," she said but then on seeing my mouth tighten, she laughed and quickly added, "But I don't have the slightest urge to jump into bed with him." "But he's coming again - the bet is still on. Have you changed you mind about cancelling it?" Sally grinned and said, "I've been looking at the holiday brochure again and it is very tempting. Seriously though, he is pleasant company so I don't mind him coming other evenings and at the end of the month if we do find out that he really can't afford it, we can tell him to forget it then." I mumbled, "A bet's a bet," partly under my breath and I'm not sure if she heard me. I should mention that at a point during the evening Damien had produced a certificate from the bank stating that two cruise tickets were deposited there. He had also brought two documents upon which I had to append my signature alongside his. On one document my signature was designated A and on the other B. The agreement was that the loser was honour bound to sign the winners release form. In bed I think that we were affected by the ambience of the evening because an excess of passion was indulged and in consequence both slept late the following morning. I held a senior enough position in the firm to leave weekend work to underlings but it was a direct call from a potential client that woke me. He said that he had been given my business card and was ringing on recommendation. I was about to suggest that he contact the office until he said that he was interested in the Pembroke estate and needed to view urgently as he was flying back to Dubai on Sunday. This was a country house that had been empty and on our books for over four years, it was priced a two and a half million and the purchaser would undoubtedly need to spend another million on renovations. I could smell oil money and the thought of a massive bonus was enough to get me out of bed. When I got home, Sally asked eagerly how I had done. I shrugged and told her that I didn't know. The client had been very enthusiastic at the start, demanding to see everything including documentation but then started to waffle and finally left saying he would let me know. The disappointment did not affect her because she had news of her own. "Damien called while you were out," she said. "The cheating swine. Well he's sunk himself because that invalidates the bet. We will carry on with it but at the end of the month I'll tell him that the bet is void." "Even if he has lost?" "Well no," I said and then stopped having betrayed the fact that I had considered the possibility of losing." Sally grinned at my discomfiture and then said, "I don't think he invalidated the bet anyway. He behaved very properly. For a start, on finding that you were not at home, he tried to run away like a scared rabbit." "Tell me exactly what happened," I demanded, reluctantly prepared to reserve judgement on whether Damien had violated our agreement. "I answered the bell and Damien was there. He seemed upset to see me and asked to speak to you. When I said you were at work he got a look of panic on his face and said that he would come back later. I asked if I could pass a message and he blurted out that he had lost his wallet and was hoping against hope that it had fallen out of his pocket last night. I told him to come in and check but he just stood there insisting that it wasn't allowed. I got a bit annoyed and said, 'Listen Damien, I have no intention of being seduced by you, you don't look like a rapist and I'm damn well not going to let a stupid bet dictate who can come in my house.' He came in very reluctantly but we soon found his wallet down the back of the settee. The poor guy was weak kneed with relief so I told him to sit down while I made a cup of tea. He was a bit uneasy but agreed to stay. He didn't come on to me at all so we sat chatting very pleasantly and I told him something about myself." The Bet "What did you find out about him?" "He works abroad most of the time but I didn't quite grasp was he does." "Anything else?" "He's got a very nice cock," she said with a grin. Her remark caused a tumult of emotions in me. My first thought was fear that I had lost the wager but realising that Sally would have imparted such news differently, I was filled with rage at him having imposed on her good nature to expose himself. "I'll kill him," I snarled. Sally was laughing at me. "I've seen his penis - in fact I have had a good long look at it but that is the nearest that I intend to get. You needn't worry because it was all very innocent. When I carried the tea in I must have been more keyed up than I thought because my concentration had gone and I managed to trip over his feet and tip both mugs straight into his lap. It was so silly - I've brought you tea hundreds of times without anything like that happening. Anyway he jumped up frantically, ripped his trousers off and started dabbing at himself. Well he wasn't wearing any underpants. After a minute when the pain eased he realised what was on show and turned his back." My wife couldn't prevent a smile flitting across her face as she continued, "He was very apologetic, said that his bollocks were being burned to buggery and that he had never been so embarrassed in his life. I told him that his was not the first one I had seen and that I wasn't bothered at all. I fetched a towel for him to dry and cover himself, hung his trousers on the radiator to dry then went in the kitchen to make some more tea. When I came back he had wrapped the towel round himself like a skirt. The trouble was that he was sitting with his legs apart as men do and he completely lacked the awareness a woman has of what a skirt can reveal. I didn't want to embarrass him further by telling him so had to sit for two hours while his trousers dried, looking at everything he's got. It's only fair to mention that he was pretty aroused by the situation. I thought the whole thing was rather funny." It was some kind of male compunction that made me ask, "Is his cock bigger than mine?" Sally just said "Yes'" without embellishment or qualification and, although curious for more detail, I felt it would be indelicate to pursue the subject. I was rather suspicious about the whole incident. It seemed too fortuitous that he should turn up looking for a lost wallet when I had most unusually been called away from home on what I now believed had been a wild goose chase. I was also worried about Sally's answer to my query about his prick - to just say 'Yes' without elaboration meant that the intruder into our lives had got to have something pretty enormous between his legs. Then on further analysis I became very encouraged. If this had been Damien's masterstroke then he had come badly unstuck - he had played his ace but instead of being overcome with lust, Sally had been amused instead. With a feeling of complacency, I dug out the brochure and spent a pleasant hour anticipating the holiday of a lifetime. Although I was happy with the outcome of the illicit Saturday morning visit I was not going to let him get away with it unscathed, so when Damien was enjoying his next Friday evening, I waited until Sally had disappeared into the kitchen and then tackled him about it. I said, "I am not happy with the stroke you pulled last Saturday, in my book that wasn't kosher." He did not deny it, instead going onto the attack by stating, "If we are talking kosher, I thought we had agreed that you wouldn't tell your wife about the bet." "You suggested it that's all - and I can see how that would serve your purpose." "You won't believe me but I actually made that suggestion for your benefit Phil - women can be very contrary when their virtue or lack of it is made the subject of a wager." I had a devastating comeback to this but before I could make it, Sally returned. During the course of the evening it was obvious that a rapport had been struck the previous Saturday morning because the atmosphere was far less stilted. Although the purpose of us being together was known openly by all it was never overtly stated - at least there was no need to bother with any more false reminiscences. I was rather surly and said little. I felt antagonistic towards my rival and resented every small smile that my wife threw in his direction. Despite having the conversational field more or less to himself, I thought Damien failed to capitalise upon it. He went through the motions of saying the right thing to her but did it clumsily with none of the polish or flare I had expected. When he had gone Sally confirmed this impression by saying, I'm baffled by this whole bet thing because Damien doesn't come across at all as the big womaniser that he is meant to be. I like him, I think he's a really nice guy but although I can see why some women might fancy him, I don't really think that he is my type." It had been agreed the private meal would take place on the Wednesday. I had stipulated that he must take her to an independent restaurant and not one that was part of a hotel. I did not want Damien to lull Sally with his charm and then whisk her quickly upstairs to his seduction suite. My logic was that if he did manage to temporarily overcome her resistance then she would undoubtedly come to her senses before arriving where the deed was to be done. I came to the conclusion that Damien's abilities as a seducer of women resided totally in his mind. This belief filled me with a sense of elation that lasted until he called at the house in a taxi to pick up my wife for their evening. We were alone while Sally went to put the last touches to her make-up and Damien took the opportunity to say to me, "Don't worry, your wife is in very good hands. I should have Sally back to you about eleven, soon after we have finished eating." He paused significantly and then added, "That's if I have miscalculated - I'm pretty sure that it is actually going to be a great deal later." He accompanied the remark with an exaggerated man to man wink. Before I could reply Sally appeared, pecked me on the cheek and they were gone. I felt deflated. Something was badly wrong. After three meetings with Sally he was doing badly, he had to realise that and yet the man remained overwhelmingly confident. Then it hit me - these evenings with the three of us were just a blind and the real seduction was to take place in the restaurant. He undoubtedly had some secret weapon that would make his victory inevitable and my mind ran the whole gamut from hypnotism to something in her drink. Well he wasn't going to score that night if I had anything to do with it. I ran upstairs and quickly put on my best suit and was still pulling on a tie as I hurried to the car. The restaurant was reached in good time and once there I skulked around until I spotted their table. It was in a tiny private alcove complete with a candle in the middle. Finding the head waiter I said, "A table for one please and I would like it there." I was pointing to the only spot in the whole place that gave an uninterrupted view of my wife and her suitor. The Maitre D put on a stuffy expression and said," I'm sorry sir that is not possible. That position is always kept clear for the benefit of the waiters." "I'm sure that you could make an exception just for tonight," I suggested, glancing down at my hand. The waiter followed my eyes to where a crisp new twenty pound note was folded between my fingers. "I will see what I can do," he agreed and the bank note disappeared from my grasp with a sleight of hand that must have taken years to perfect. My table was about twenty feet away from them, too far to hear what they were saying but close enough for them to be aware of me. When I sat down Sally and Damien were drinking wine and chatting while waiting for their order. After Sally had said something, he slowly slid his hand across the table and rested it on top of hers. I think that my wife was going to acquiesce to it remaining there but at that moment she glanced up, saw me and jerked her hand away as if it had been burned. Damien whipped his head round to see where she was staring and the subsequent flash of anger on his face gave me a great deal of satisfaction. It was game set and match. Although they persevered to the end of the meal both felt compelled to glance frequently at me. I ate very little but then neither did they - though they did drink quite a lot of wine. When I knew that they were almost finished, I paid and went down to my car and then sat with the engine running close to the door, ready to follow anywhere that they chose to go. When they appeared, Damien looked round then leaving my wife in the doorway; he walked over to the car and tapped on the side window. I was reluctant to lower it fearing that he might punch me in the face - it was what I would have wanted to do if I were he. As it was he simply said coldly, "As you are here, perhaps you would like to take Sally home and save me the taxi fare." We must have been travelling for five minutes before Sally spoke and then it was only to say, "I wish that you had trusted me - as it is you have spoiled what could have been a very pleasant evening for no good reason. If you are trying to make me fuck him then you are going the right way about it." There was no sex for me that night but by Thursday bedtime she had mellowed. This was largely due to my abject apologies and explaining my fears. I said, "Damien is almost a professional philanderer and men like that have lots of devious ways to make women submit to them. I just wanted to be there to protect you." I think that Sally took that with a pinch of salt but she laughed and said, "You are silly - you know I don't think that you feel half as certain of me as you pretend." The thought seemed to give her pleasure - I suppose that it's the 'not being taken for granted' syndrome. Friday was Damien's real last chance, so at some point during the evening he had to talk my wife into making an assignation to meet him. On the final Friday of the sequence this would be impossible because the bet finished at the end of the evening and the only real purpose of that gathering would be to declare the winner and sort out small details (mainly the tickets and spending money cash). Damien would therefore be going all out to woo her and I was determined to sabotage him - without being heavy handed about it and risk alienating my wife. I played it beautifully. Although pretending to be jovial and good natured all evening, whenever the conversation edged in a romantic direction, I quickly side-tracked it into more mundane channels. I also never left them alone together for an instant. If Sally went into the kitchen and Damien casually wandered after her then I went too and at the end of the evening my bladder was bursting due to having manfully resisted the pressing call of nature. When the door eventually closed behind Damien's departing back then, had I been a footballer, I would have pulled off my shirt and done a lap of victory lap round the room. During the next week, while not displaying any sign of triumphalism in front of Sally, I spent most of my lunch hours wandering round the clothing shops choosing my wardrobe for the holiday. In contrast, though admitting that she was looking forward to the cruise Sally failed to display the enthusiasm that I would have expected had we being paying for ourselves. I felt sure that, once the formality of the coming Friday was past, she would become as excited as I. When the Friday evening came it held a revelation. At the time Damien was due to appear, Sally was watching for him out of the front window when she suddenly cried out, "The blue car is back - it's just parked in front of the house." I ran to join her just in time to see the door open and Damien step out. When we opened the front door ahead of him, before either of us could speak he said, "I know, I know - I've got a lot of explaining to do." When he was seated with a drink in his hand, he leaned for and addressing himself just to Sally he began, "As this is virtually all over, I felt that I had to come clean because I am not at all what I pretended to Phil. About two months ago I saw you for the first time and I thought that you were the most wonderful woman that I had ever seen. I was immediately besotted by you and started hanging about hoping to see you because one glimpse of you caused my heart to lurch. Gradually I found out where you worked, where you shopped and where you went at lunchtimes. You were always with someone or very obviously going somewhere so I couldn't approach and had to content myself with admiring you from a distance. Then finally I managed to follow you on the train and find out where you lived. While I was there, Phil drove up so that is why I was able to recognise him in the pub. That night I dreamed up this crazy bet - at the very least it would allow me to meet you properly. Sunday lunchtime I hung about the pub hoping against hope that your husband would be going in for a drink." "Wasn't it a bit idiotic to put up so much money for so little," I interrupted. Damien turned to me for the first time and said, "Wouldn't you risk everything you have to win the only thing that you want in the world, no matter what the odds." I thought about the display of conspicuous wealth parked outside the house but decided to hold my counter in reserve, contenting myself by saying, "I still think you are crazy." "Well I think that it is very romantic," Sally contradicted me and then after a pause she said firmly, "One thing is certain - you have got to cancel the ridiculous bet." Damien and I shouted "No," in unison and then, before I could justify my refusal, Damien went on, "I've played the game and it's only fair that I should pay the piper. I have only one request, would you be so kind as to sit on my lap for a couple of minutes - it will be a memory that I can take away with me." Sally looked surprised but got up and moved towards him while I, feeling magnanimous in victory made no move to stop her. Reaching his knee, she sat down gingerly and he slipped his hand tentatively round her waist. Giving a long sigh of contentment, he said, "That was the nice thing about the bet - I couldn't lose because I won four whole evenings able to look at you that I have enjoyed immensely - and I still enjoyed those two hours in the restaurant. Then there are these precious moments - you see these are all pleasures that I would have never enjoyed otherwise - so the sacrifice of my personal possessions is well worth while." This was too much for me. "Put away the violins," I sneered. "Personal possessions - you have got to be as wealthy as fuck and losing the bet is not going to hurt you one little bit. You've only to look at that flash car outside - if you can afford to drive that then paying for this holiday is hardly going to bankrupt you." "You don't get it do you - that car is the holiday," he said looking at me. "I've only paid the holiday deposit so far. That car is my pride and joy but tomorrow I am selling it to pay the balance." I could not believe what happened next. Sally stood up, took Damien's hand to pull him to his feet and then without looking at me started leading him towards the door to the stairs. Immediately I knew what she intended and tried to leap up to prevent it but my legs seemed paralysed and when I attempted to cry out instead, the muscles in my throat were similarly atrophied. Impotently I watched my wife disappear and then just before Damien also vanished from view, he leaned his head back to throw a broad triumphant wink in my direction. He followed this quickly by rolling his eyes upward in a gesture that I took to be an invitation to go with them and verify that I had lost the bet. With my last remaining bit of pride I grimly shook my head. I sat stunned. It was incomprehensible to me how the whole situation could have changed so rapidly. For several minutes I remained immobile feeling completely numb but then I stood and was unable to stop myself from walking slowly towards the stairs. Sally had taken him into the guest bedroom and either by accident or design the door had been left ajar. Damien was lying on top of my lovely wife and thrusting a penis appreciably larger then mine into her with practised efficiency. I should have turned and walked away then but instead, cursing myself for the sick pervert I had become, I stayed watching for possibly twenty minutes. I know that I filled the tormented role of voyeur long enough to know that my darling Sally was doing far more than lying back and thinking of England. He did not actually make her cum but I could tell from her breathing that she was very close and I suspect that she fought it rather than compound her betrayal. Before the finale, I forced myself back to my chair downstairs. Damien came down alone several minutes later. "Sally is taking a shower," he told me reporting it as a matter of fact. I stood, for no good reason, and gazed at him wondering what sorcery he had used to so corrupt my wife. I think that he read my mind because he said quietly, "I told you, psychology. That's the magic - it works every time." I nodded but still did not understand. "There is just one little formality Squire," he went on in a brisk voice, removing his release document from a pocket. "I'd like you to autograph this if you would be so kind." For a second I considered refusing but then took the proffered pen and scrawled my signature. "When the time comes, do you want to deliver your wife to the port or would you prefer me to pick her up here?" "I'll bring her," I managed to say, upon which he incongruously stuck out his hand only for me to ignore it. I was choked up and just wanted him to leave while I still retained some semblance of self-control. Damien turned towards the door but then paused and swung back. In an action that seemed completely out of character, he leaned forward, squeezed my shoulder and said sympathetically, "Don't worry - I will bring her back to you safe and sound, I promise." Then he was gone. Sally appeared a long ten minutes later. I had half expected her to dress exactly as she was before, to give at least the surface impression that nothing had happened, but she had rejected such a subterfuge and instead had just wrapped a bathrobe round her. I was pretty sure that she was naked beneath. She walked slowly towards me, stopped three paces away and looking into my eyes said simply, "I'm sorry Phil." "WHY?" The single tortured word broke from my throat. "I honestly don't know," she told me. "It was an impulse. I hadn't the slightest intention of doing anything like that but suddenly there was this overwhelming feeling that it was the right thing to do. I think that, knowing he had fallen for me so badly and was risking everything it seemed so unfair that he was having to be satisfied with so little." She stopped and stood looking at me helplessly. After a moment when I was unable to respond she pleaded, "Can you get me a drink please?" I had almost finished a large glass of whiskey so I did myself a refill and poured her the white wine that she liked. We sat side by side on the settee but not quite touching - I think that both of us preferred not to look into each other's eyes. Sally took a large sip and said, "I couldn't believe it myself - it didn't seem real. Upstairs with him I asked myself how can I possibly be making love to another man in my own house with you downstairs. I had only wanted to give him a little bit more and it was not until I was in the shower just now that I realised the implication of the bet and what I had done. It took all my courage to come down and face you." The Bet As she finished speaking, tears began to trickle down Sally's face. My aggrieved feelings disappeared to be replaced by a desire to comfort her. "Don't worry about the bet," I said. "He used unfair facts - he bamboozled you into it so it doesn't count." Sally turned to face me and said sadly, "But it does count Phil. It is exactly how the majority of women do get seduced. You bet him that he couldn't seduce me and he bet that he could - he did it the only way open to him, but he did it and he won the bet." "I don't care - you don't have to go," I insisted. "Nobody can make you, when you don't turn up the ship will sail without you and that will be the end of it." Sally picked up my hand and held it gently between hers - it was the first time we had touched since before Damien arrived at the door at the start of the evening. "Phil. When we first met, what did you tell me was the most heinous thing that an honourable man can do - 'even worse than murder' you said?" she asked softly. "To welsh on a bet," I said, hanging my head in shame. My wife nodded. "I feel terrible about it too but there's no question about it - I have to go on the cruise with him." "OK - you have to go on the cruise but that doesn't mean that you have to let him screw you," I said, clutching at straws. "Yes I do," she insisted patiently. "Sex was never mentioned directly but it was implicit in the bet." "Oh God," I mumbled sitting forward with my head cradled in my hands. It was Sally's turn to console me. "We've been separated for three months before when you had to go to Australia and we got through that." "But there wasn't another man poking you then - or at least I hope there wasn't," I countered bitterly. She ignored the innuendo, "It's only sex and it doesn't mean anything." Without lifting my head I made a dismissive sound and allowed myself to sink further into misery. Listen to me," Sally insisted patting my hand, "At the office where I work there are five other married women beside myself and three of them play around or cheat, whatever you want to call it. Well all of them insist that it's just a bit of fun and doesn't mean that they don't love their husbands. I didn't believe it but I do now. I'm not going to pretend that I didn't enjoy doing it with Damien because I did but it didn't make me love you any the less - in fact I love you even more because of what I have done to you." I straightened up and kissed her briefly but softly. There was still a bitter taste in my mouth but her words had helped me to come to terms with the inevitable. Sally continued in an upbeat tone, "If I let him have me four times a week which I think is fair, that will only add up to fifty times during the whole cruise. If you set that against all the times that we have made love, it's just a drop in the ocean. Another thing love, you can't do without sex while I'm away so go with other women - it's only fair. I even don't mind if you go with prostitutes - we can afford it." A short time later we went to bed but in contrast to almost every other night we lay inches apart instead of entwined. That does not mean that I had no inclination for sex because the very opposite was true. Images of what I had witnessed earlier flitting across my eyelids gave me an erection that was painfully stiff but I was unsure if Sally would welcome my attentions so soon after lying with the other man - for considerations of fastidiousness if nothing else. Granted her shower had washed away any external smell left by the other male but it was highly likely that some residue of the earlier passion remained secreted within her. We lay in silence for several minutes each concerned with our own thoughts until Sally said softly, "Do you want to make love to me?" I did not need a second invitation before turning to her. But I did not make love. Instead I fucked her almost brutally as if the only purpose of the shag was to eradicate all traces of the man who had insinuated himself into our lives. Sally reacted passionately to this different mode of sex and came with almost explosive force. My initial pleasure at having had this effect on her was dulled by the realisation that she was most likely simply giving vent to the orgasm primed by Damien that short time before. The sailing date was nearly five weeks away and in that intervening time, apart from that first night, we did not talk about the cruise at all. Strangely I did not think about it much either. I suppose that it is a bit like death - you know that it is going to happen but you don't dwell upon it, as if there is some mental inhibition against morbid contemplation. I'm sure that it figured more prominently in my wife's mind because she had to be looking forward to the holiday if not the sexual obligation entailed. She also had preparations to make such as shopping for suitable clothes. Had we been going together she would have told me about each item purchased with exited anticipation and I could expect a titillating fashion show but in the circumstances her holiday clothing was brought into the house unannounced and surreptitiously stored in drawers and wardrobe. One day when I was alone in the house and unable to contain my curiosity, I mounted a scouting expedition to find out what she had bought. While the almost non-existent size of the bikinis did not bother me at all, I was perversely most distressed by the brief and flimsy nature of her new underwear. We did tend to make love more often and with greater intensity, especially during the last week. When the waiting had come down to days I found myself growing very tense and at random moments throughout the day, I became prone to what are called panic attacks. Any unrelated event of bit of conversation could trigger me off and this could be rather embarrassing if I happened to be showing potential clients round a house. The dreaded morning came. The sky was heavily overcast and fitted exactly with my mood. At breakfast we hardy exchanged a word and in the car on the journey to the port neither of us had much to say - everything had already been said or left unsaid. We booked in Sally's heavy luggage, retaining only a small suitcase to carry, and then, having just under half an hour to fill, went into a café for a cup of tea. Both of us remained introspective, I desperately did not want her to go and I could tell from Sally's face that she was badly torn. About the only significant thing said was my wife's instruction not to write to her, telling me, "I will write to you of course but letters from you must inevitably chase me all over the place, getting out of sequence and possibly lost. If you want to write just save all the letters up and I can read them when I get home - it will be something to look forward to." When we arrived at the ship, Damien was waiting at the bottom of the gangplank. He raised a hand in greeting but made no move to join us. I put down the suitcase and the next moment my wife was in my arms. We kissed passionately until Sally moved her mouth to my ear and whispered fiercely, "Phil I love you so much." I crushed her to me and when I released the pressure she said, "Remember, you have got to go with other women while I'm away. I don't mind - after all it's only fair." Trying to control my emotions I made a joke of it saying, "If you insist." Sally too was near to tears. "Just don't fall in love with any of them - you hear." She threw herself back into my arms for one last frantic kiss then tore herself away. Picking up her suitcase she walked quickly to where Damien was standing. I saw him smile but he made no attempt to touch her. Their hands briefly touched when he took her suitcase and there was another slight contact when he steadied her elbow at the bottom of the gangplank but apart from that it was as if Damien was studiously avoiding any impression of having taken possession while in my sight. Even at the top of the gangplank when Sally moved to the rail, he remained two or three paces away from her and further back so that only his head was visible. She waved and I waved back. I could not stand the thought of standing about for possibly another fifteen minutes until the liner cast off and moved away - to wait and wave occasionally, knowing they were now together. Steeling myself, I blew a kiss to Sally putting all my love into in, then turned and walked away. I should have kept on walking. There is some perverse urge in life that causes men to torment themselves unnecessarily. To the right of the door I passed through there was a flight of stairs. Without thinking I ran up to peer eagerly in the direction of the ship through the first window I came to. I was almost at deck level so I could see both of them clearly. Thinking I had gone, Damien moved forward to her, she tilted her face to him and he gave her a long lingering kiss. Then, slipping his arm round her, he shepherded her out of my view and possibly out of my life. The pain that I felt was intolerable and the trauma remained with me unabated for the following five days. I was operating like a Zombie, just going through the motions at work, wandering the house pointlessly at home and hardly bothering to even cook for myself. Time and time again I cursed at the greed that had caused me to become involved in that stupid bet but not once did I mentally reproach Sally for letting him win - given her very kind nature, in the circumstances she could not have acted in other way. Then the first letter from Sally arrived. It was a long letter that began 'Missing you terribly already' and went on to reminisce tenderly about our life together. Towards the end she told me about the ship and how luxurious it was. 'I was expecting a pokey cabin with bunk beds but the cabin is actually rather spacious and very posh. The food is excellent top hotel standard but at the moment only I think so. We hit bad weather not long out of port and Damien has been very poorly with seasickness for three whole days although it didn't affect me at all. Damien can't understand it, claiming that he has never suffered like this before and therefore it must be something he has eaten. The letter finished, 'Love you with all my heart, Sally.' Her words did me a world of good. I would have preferred not to know about the lack of bunk beds but on the other hand I was more than a little pleased to know that my rival had been suffering. Most heartening of all was the news that Sally was missing me, not to mention her declaration of love. This effect lasted for two or three weeks even though subsequent letters were not as good. In fact they deteriorated steadily until for the latter half of her holiday I only received a hastily written postcard. I reread her communications constantly and towards the end when reviewing the series I realised that the first letter was the only time that she had mentioned her companion by name - she actually never referred to him at all, even in passing. The only times that she used the word 'we' was in a context that could mean the passengers generally and in other places used instead phrases such as, 'Leave ship tomorrow for seven days solitude on the first island - so your next letter might be a little late." To me it seemed she was at pains to give the impression that she was cruising by herself. I tried to convince myself that she was deliberately doing this to save my feelings but my gut feeling was that she was hiding something. Words of affection also grew few and far between, with her letters little more than travelogues talking of nothing apart from weather and sights seen. The way that she closed the letters distressed me the most. The second ended 'Love you so' then came 'I love you'. This trio were the best because the following in progression were 'Love you lots', ominously 'I still love you', a couple saying just 'Love you' and from then through the post card phase just 'Love, Sally'. After the first two week of abject loneliness without Sally I began to feel a bit more upbeat. Reading a magazine article about the freedom of open marriages, I started to think, "Why not - having a bit of illicit nookie myself might just be what I need to get everything into perspective. At the office where I work there is an attractive eighteen-year-old. She had never made much impact on my consciousness before but now my eyes tended to follow her as she flitted about. One day I was standing by the coffee machine clutching my plastic cup when she came up for refreshments and had to spend some time urging a bit of recalcitrant change out of the slot, allowing me an unrestrained view down her very tempting cleavage. When she glanced up at me I looked away guiltily but, unaware of my carnal thoughts, she smiled and said kindly, "You've seem rather unhappy the last couple of weeks - is anything wrong?" "No - everything's fine," I lied. She stood up clutching the retrieved cash, hesitated for a long moment then gave me an absolutely ravishing smile before moving away. On the spur of the moment I called after her, "Debbie - are you doing anything special tonight?" She turned, gave me another smile and said, "I'm meant to go be going out to dinner with my fiancée - did you want me to work over Mr Pope?" I got out of the embarrassment by saying that my work could wait because I would not dream of spoiling her evening - but the failure of my clumsy pick-up attempt did not deter me. That Saturday night found me dressed up and at a night-club reputed to be nothing more than a knocking shop. Despite the reputation of the place, no female approached me and there were none that I really fancied (I told myself having failed to find the nerve to initiate anything). My next foray into attempted foray into extra-marital sex was a one hour kerb crawl round a notorious red light district. I was on my third circuit and had almost found the courage to speak to a long legged hooker in a red mini-skirt when a police car loomed up in my rear view mirror. I accelerated away, drove home in a cold sweat and that was the end of that. For the rest of the time that Sally was away, I lived a celibate life - except for the inevitable (and possibly excessive) self-abuse. As well as abandoning all thoughts of infidelity, I gave up on life altogether. Apart from managing to maintain a minimal smartness for work, I turned into a complete slob. For weeks I existed on takeaways - when I could be bothered to eat at all. The kitchen sink became filled to overflowing and the house reeked from the piles of discarded pizza cartons and Chinese meal containers piled high on every available surface. A fortnight before Sally was due to return I pulled myself together, cleared the accumulation of dirty dishes then washed and ironed several weeks' worth of soiled clothes. I also restocked a severely depleted larder. The last communication to arrive from my wife was again just a card that stated little more than date and time that the ship would dock in port. All the same it motivated me and I conceived the idea that I would have the house absolutely perfect for when Sally arrived home. The trouble was that I had left it far too late to reasonably complete everything that needed to be done. But that wasn't going to stop me. I worked myself to the point of exhaustion, more than once falling asleep downstairs, lacking the energy to make it up to bed. By lunchtime on the day before she was due back I finally finished but instead of relaxing, I was unable to sit still, constantly glancing at the clock and thinking, 'This time tomorrow.' It was eight o'clock that I got the cable from Sally saying that the ship had been delayed for several hours by engine trouble and was having to put into a different port nearly a day late. She asked me to pick her up at midday from a railway station, naming the largest city near to where we live. The disappointment was more than I could bear and I admit that I sat and cried uncontrollably. Later, midway to drinking my way to oblivion, I saw sense, telling myself 'what did a few more hours matter after three months - she was almost home and that was all that mattered.' I had planned to arrive at the railway station early to be there when Sally got off the train but silly things managed to delay me until I set off with the prospect of getting there just in time. About three minutes from my destination I passed a low slung metallic blue sports car going fast in the opposite direction. I shook my head and told myself it couldn't be. Next I encountered a diversion due to road works, which delayed me by over five minutes and caused me to grind my teeth in frustration at the knowledge that I was going to be late. My wife was standing alone in the middle of the concourse with her luggage piled on a trolley. She was staring in the wrong direction and drawing close unobserved I could see she had acquired a very nice tan, was more beautiful than ever and that she had picked up a kind of glow that I did not remember from before. The moment Sally turned and saw me she ran to fling her arms round my neck and smother my face with tiny kisses, then, oblivious to the passers-by, we really kissed in a passionate embrace during which time seemed to stand still. Eventually, reluctantly we broke apart and pushed the trolley to where I had left the car. During the journey home, in almost a mirror image of our last day, neither of us spoke - I was content simply to have her back with me. Back at the house, while I made a cup of tea, Sally wandered about fondly running her fingers over old treasures. "Glad to be back?" I asked. Having just returned from the holiday of a lifetime, I half expected some reservations but she answered, "YES," with a ferocity that surprised me. I waited but she said nothing else. Logically she should have volunteered something about her holiday, asked me how I had managed while she was away or just complimented me on how nicely I had maintained the house. "I know you have just got back from travelling but I hope that you are not too tired for a quick lie down," I asked hopefully. Sally immediately jumped up, gave me a big loving smile and said, "No matter how tired I was, how could I possibly say 'No' to that after being away from you for three whole months. As I followed her up the stairs, I had the definite impression that Sally would far rather make love than conversation. I wasn't grumbling - hell, I felt exactly the same way myself. The sex was fantastic, absolutely fantastic but having said that I have to make the following observations. It was like making love to a different woman. No matter how innovative or adventurous, if together for some time, a couple develop a natural progression in lovemaking that they are both happy with. That had gone completely - in fact more than once Sally started to do something that had obviously been part of their routine, before remembering and abruptly stopping herself. It didn't matter - what if she still had some traces of Damien about her, she was back and from her actions, words of love and the look in her eyes, I knew that she still loved me. Floating in a sea of contentment, I reached out a finger to idly trace the outline of her breast, saying happily, "I've been such a fool. Reading your letters I convinced myself that I was losing you. I thought that you had fallen for that guy and you don't know how much of a relief it is to know that I was mistaken." Sally abruptly sat up, swivelled round to face me and took my hand between hers and said, "You never were a fool Phil and you weren't mistaken. I got so crazy about Damien that I didn't think I could live without him. It was something that I tried desperately to hide in my letters to you but you could tell anyway. I got so that I hated having to write because it made me feel so guilty. There are two things that you have got know - I didn't want to spoil today so I was planning to tell you tomorrow." The Bet I couldn't cope with this, lying naked in bed. I was suddenly terribly afraid that she had just given me a last goodbye fuck before riding off into the sunset with him. Trying to keep my voice steady I said, "Let's go downstairs and have that cup of tea we never had while you tell me about it from the start." Sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table, Sally began, "The first three days there was a storm and Damien was ill so it was the fourth night before we slept together in that way. I'm not saying that I went on board eager to have sex with him again but I had steeled myself for it so those first three days were a bit of an anti climax. When we did start to screw I started to fall for him pretty quickly but I convinced myself that I just liked being in bed with him a lot. It was after a month that I started to admit that I cared for him and after the week alone with him on a small island, I knew I was absolutely crazy about him. The trouble was that I believed what they say about it being impossible to love two people at the same time and that meant that if I loved him so much then I couldn't love you anymore - that was why I felt so guilty when I wrote to you. I really felt that I couldn't live without him. Damien guessed how I felt and he warned me saying, 'Don't forget that when this holiday is over, I will be going out of your life forever.' I didn't believe it. We were so good together that I thought I could hold him but he kept saying, 'You are going back to Phil - you've got a good husband there but I would be no good for you at all." Sally paused for breath and this gave me the chance to ask, "Just what is so special about this guy for him to have such an effect on you." "He always does and says exactly the right thing - and he's a marvellous lover," she told me honestly. "A great deal better than me you mean," I said bitterly. "No -- he's probably not that much better really. He was different, that was part of it and we were in relaxed idyllic surroundings. You've got to remember that for days on end there was nothing to do except lie in the sun or fuck - and lying in the sun soon gets terribly boring." A small smile touched her mouth as she said the last bit and I found myself smiling in response. The next moment she was serious again saying, "Towards the end of the holiday when I knew for certain that he was going to stick to the bet agreement I started to panic not knowing how I could manage to live without him. I tried to persuade him to keep on seeing me when we got back. I said 'I said Phil is a reasonable bloke, I'm sure that when I explain it to him he will agree to some sort of arrangement'. Damien just laughed and told me that he didn't think you would be reasonable about it at all. So I said that I would meet him secretly and you wouldn't have to know but he said that you had played fair with him so he was honour bound to play fair with you." What my wife had just told was deeply hurtful but I was filled with relief that Damien was not waiting on the sidelines to claim her back the following day. "Do you still love him?" I had to ask. "Yes I still love him but I know now that it is possible to love two people at the same time. Standing on the station waiting for you today, I realised how much I was looking forward to seeing your face and knew that I still love you as much as I ever did." I sighed with relief. I also realised that I was very aroused - no doubt from hearing about her sexual activity with that other man. "So everything is all right. Let's grab something to eat and go back to bed." Sally shook her head. "No - I said that there are two things you need to know and now that I have started telling you about Damien I've got to get everything off my chest." My heart sank. I thought that she had already told me all the bad news - if there were two things worse than that, I didn't think I wanted to know. "Go on," I mumbled as my penis shrivelled to virtual non-existence. "I'm so ashamed," she began, "I've been very mean to you and I have also been unfaithful to you as well. I don't count all the times that Damien and I fucked on the holiday because that was part of the bet and couldn't really be called cheating but I have done it with him since we came ashore and that was wrong. The boat wasn't delayed, it docked on time but I sent you that cable so that I could have one last night with him. Damien wanted to stick rigidly to the terms of the bet but I pleaded with him. It was so mean and selfish of me because I knew how you must have been counting the minutes to me getting back and I made you wait an extra twenty-four hours. "How?" I asked stupidly, my mind unable to comprehend what she was telling me. "When Damien refused to see me again after I was back with you I pleaded with him for one last night. I said that all the times I had been to bed with him on the holiday was because I had to due to the bet - I said that I wanted to do it just once when it was completely my choice. He did agree to that so I sent you the cable and on leaving the ship we booked into that station hotel. This morning we put all my stuff on a trolley to make it look as if I had just got off the train." "I bet he screwed you more than more just the 'one last time' - when was the last time you did it with him?" "Ten o'clock this morning," Sally told me honestly, knowing it would hurt me to know that she had left his bed less than four hours before jumping into mine. "Whore," I said, not meaning it but needing to strike back. "I know that's exactly what I am," Sally said contritely. "When I did it, it seemed right but I can see now how selfish I was. When Damien walked away to his car leaving me to wait for you, it was as if his influence had lifted allowing me to see how very much I still loved you. I would give anything to have come back to you yesterday. I'm so ashamed of myself." "You just said 'walked away to his car'?" I queried, my mind ignoring her apology and fixing on this random piece of information. "I passed a car very like his on my way to the station." "That would be him," she nodded but then paused and said, "That's something else - Damien wasn't exactly straight about the car. There was no question of him selling it because the holiday cost him nothing. He works for a travel firm and could claim three months free holiday for him and a companion anywhere in the world that he wanted to go." "Bastard," I said. "If I had found out near the start I would have been very angry but by the time that he did confess I would have forgiven him anything. He said ' All's fair in love and war,' and then laughed as if it was funny." "The lying cheating fucking swine," I swore. "Be fair - you did your own share of cheating. "Not me - I played it straight down the line and the more fool me," I protested. "Hardly - you came to the restaurant that night to deliberately ruin his only real chance of winning the bet. That was very mean of you and I was so cross that I let him kiss me on the way down in the lift. You needn't have bothered because I wasn't going to let him seduce me - in fact I found the secluded table, low lights and the rest all rather amusing." "It was the only time that I felt really vulnerable." "Well it cost you," she said. "That last night when I thought he was risking everything because he was so besotted with me, it seemed so unfair that you had cheated him out of his only real chance - and that's why I let him win." Her words answered the question that had been bothering me ever since that night and also made me admit for the first time that I had behaved in a less than honourable fashion. The whole thing was my own damn fault - and that not just agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. The only thing for me to do was to forget everything and start again. "Let's go back to bed," I said. This time it was more the familiar Sally of before with only one small glitch when she almost slipped into an alternate scenario. At one point she started moving down the bed obviously intending to take my cock in her mouth but then changed her mind to crawl back and continue kissing. Now throughout our marriage, oral sex was invariable mutual in the old sixty-nine position and always initiated by me going down on her. This small inadvertent action gave me a small window into how differently she had behaved with him. We had done the oral as foreplay and only accidentally to completion but something told me that she had found the taste of his cum less unpleasant than mine. This knowledge caused a mental blip but when we coupled it hardly put me off my stroke. I had three months sexual hunger to work off and every intention of humping all night but on only the second time around, Sally fell asleep under me completely exhausted. Next morning I got up to make her breakfast in bed and when she had finished eating I started to slip in beside her intending to carry on where I had left off. To my surprise she stopped me saying, "I said there were two things I had to tell you but I've only told you one. I intended to tell you everything yesterday when I was confessing but I was so afraid that you wouldn't want me when you knew and I did so need to spend the night with you." After all that she had related I could not imagine anything that could be so dire. Laughing I pushed aside her restraining hand and got into bed saying, "Spit it out then. I don't care what kind of kinky stuff you got up to with him; I still want you for my wife." "I'm pregnant," she said. I felt as if I had been turned to stone. "Pregnant - it's impossible, you've been on the pill for years." Sally nodded. "I know it was stupid," she agreed and then the whole story came out. "It was when we went to the first island. Going ashore in a dinghy I knew that something small had fallen overboard but could not work out what it could have been but when we had been left alone, I realised it was the small hold-all with my pills, make-up and toiletries. There was meant to be a radio for emergencies but when we tried to call the ship it turned out that the battery was flat. So we searched the cabin and turned up two packets of condoms, a full one of three and one with only two in. Trouble was they only lasted us for the first day. So we tried other things but although I always enjoyed sucking him off, I couldn't really do that every time and it was impossible to be alone for a week in a place like that without fucking at all. So we decided to take a chance - the thing was that the condoms had really been too small for him and two had split so it seemed likely that the damage had already been done. Then on only the second time that he had me bareback I felt sure that I had conceived and resigned myself to the fact. At the end of the week, the ship that picked us up was smaller than the liner we set off in and the doctor hadn't got any of my kind of pills - he said that they were only available in England, (you know all the others are bad for me). I thought that I had already been knocked up so it seemed pointless for Damien to use condoms for the remaining seven weeks of the holiday - neither of us liked them at all. As it happened, it turns out that I wasn't impregnated on the island after all but I am definitely pregnant now." "Does Damien know?" "Yes - he was quite pleased. We even talked about names - he'd like Daniel for a boy or Danielle if it's a girl." "You've got to be less than three months - we can still do something about it," I suggested hopefully. Sally shook her head, "Phil, you know how I feel about abortion and anyway I would like something to remind me of him." 'And remind me' I thought ruefully, resigning myself to the fact that although I had my wife back I was destined to be a father by proxy. The Bet Barbara and I had just finished a leisurely late breakfast when I lost the bet. I don't even remember what we had gambled over, but I do remember that I promised that if she won she would get anything she wanted. "I want you to masturbate for me," Barbara said. "That's not a 'thing', that's an action," I protested. "You didn't specify when you made the bet. Besides, it's what I want. I won fair and square," she said with a pouty tone in her voice. Barbara had a point. We hadn't discussed any specifics when we made the bet. Besides, she knew that I'd do anything for her. So even though her "prize" made me uncomfortable, there was no point in arguing. I would give her anything that she wanted, even that. "And I don't want to see anything lame, like a quick jack-off in the shower. I want a show, a good show!" she declared. "Oh really? And when exactly do you want this show?" I asked thinking that I could put this off until some much later date. "Tonight," she said with a self-satisfied grin. "I want it tonight!" Ours sex life was very special and somewhat adventurous. We'd had sex in public, we'd played with all kinds of toys, owned and used a tantric sex chair, and even tried pegging. We were very open and honest in every way. I wouldn't have pretended that I didn't masturbate, but it wasn't something that I'd ever discussed much less done in front of anybody. It had always been a private thing. The thought of masturbating in front of Barbara, putting on "a show" felt weird and scary, but at the same time a little exciting. I nodded my agreement to what she wanted. "Oh goody," Barbara gushed. "I can't wait to add this to my collection." "Wait. What do you mean by that?" "I'm going to record my winnings." She said it with complete self assurance. "No way!" I protested. It was one thing for me to be so open with my wife, whom I trusted completely, but to do it in front of a camera was something completely different. "Oh come on," she began. "It's not like we've never done it before." She was referring to the few times we'd used a cell phone to record us having sex. The first time it had accidently happened when she'd put the phone on the charger next to our bed. At least that's what she told me. We shared the video in the most delicious way; I watched a recording of her giving me one of her amazing blow jobs while she did the same thing to me in real life. We'd done it again a few times after that. "Yeah. But not this," I said. Barbara eased up against me. "I'm not going to post it online or anything," she began. " I just want to be able to watch you again and again." Her tone was so seductive. "I love seeing you. It makes me so hot. And when you're at work and can't be here to satisfy me I get so uncomfortable." She started rubbing my growing hard-on. "I'll be able to relieve my pressure and watch you while I do. I would really like that." Barbara had masturbated for me and she knew how much I liked it. The idea of her doing it while she watched a video of me doing the same thing, was so erotic that there was no way I'd deny her. I'm sure she knew that. Once again, I caved into to her and agreed. "Excellent," she said approvingly. "I want you to do something else for me as part of the bet," she said breaking me out of my reverie. "Hey. You can't just keep add things," I said trying to put up a little bit of a fight and maintain some dignity. Barbara sensed my lack of conviction. "It's a girl's prerogative," she said and batted her eyes suggestively. She resumed stroking my hard-on. "Oaky. Sure. What?" I replied. unable to resist her "It's a blah rainy day out. We have no plans (until tonight that is) and we're home alone all day. I want you to wear your mesh bikini underwear around the house for me. I'd like to be able see your "material" before the show." "Just the mesh bikini's?" I asked. "No, I'll find something for you wear along with it. Not much else, but something," she added, "Tell you what. To keep it fair, I'll wear something that you want me to." We finished cleaning up the breakfast dishes and headed upstairs to our closet to find our outfits and begin fulfilling the terms of her addendum to our bet. Barbara picked through my clothes before selecting one of my workout shirts to accompany the full exposure bikinis she had asked me to wear. It was a tight fitting tank top, short in the waist so that the bikini underwear wasn't covered up. "Wear this for me too," she said holding up a metal studded leather cockstrap. "I like the way you look in this." I fastened the strap around my cock and balls so that they jutted out from my body, filling and stretching the thin bikinis. She caressed my balls through the transparent mesh of the underwear, thereby giving me her seal of approval. For her, I picked out a red, lace-up corset and a tiny pair of matching red panties. I loved how the panties clung to her bare, hairless pussy so I could see the curve and pout of her labia. Posing in the mirror together, we smiled enjoying how we looked in our naughty outfits. "What do you think about when you masturbate?" She asked with a serious tone while we stood together. "I think about you sometimes, and sometimes I think about us. I think about what we've done together and what we've talked about doing," I said gazing into her eyes reflected in the mirror. "You don't fantasize about other women?" Barbara asked still serious. I took her in my arms "You are my fantasy," I said simply and hugged her tight. I could practically feel her melt in my arms. The day at home was as normal as is possible for two deeply in love (and lust) scantily clad ,life-long lovers. We were never far away from each other which made the frequent caresses and kisses as inevitable as they were pleasurable. I caught Barbara staring at my mesh clad cock almost as often as I ogled her luscious 34 DD breasts straining against her corset, or her pussy lips pushing against her red panties. Each time she stared at me or touched me, my cock grew, easily visible through the nearly transparent fabric of my bikinis. She smiled every time I got hard. We ate lunch together chatting with our bare feet firmly planted in each other crotches. With her feet, Barbara massaged my cock into a raging hard-on, leaking precum, and I rubbed my feet against her pussy until I could feel dampness seeping through the thin material of her panties. It was wonderful, intimate, and sexy The day passed by in a blur and dinnertime came and went before I knew it. "Dinner was yummy. A perfect pre-show meal," Barbara said wiping lips after we ate. "Let's clean up and get the show on the road," she goaded. We stood side by side at the sink as we washed and dried the dinner dishes. The whole time we were up against each other. I'd rub my barely restrained cock against her butt, which she thrust out against me. She would repeatedly brush her firm breasts against my back. At one point she knelt down to massage my cock with her hands, which were damp from washing dishes. "I really love my cock you know." Barbara's lips were mere inches away from my throbbing hard-on and I could feel her warm breath on me. "It is my cock. You just carry it around for me," she continued. "I can't wait for you to show it off to me. To show me how you love it as much as I do," she said gazing up at me while rubbing on me firmly. I moaned. Before long clean up was over and the dishes were stowed. Her expectant look at me, said it all: Show time. With a silent gulp, aided by the multiple glasses of wine I'd had during dinner, I took Barbara's hand and began, "Time to leave for the theater." "Wherever shall we go?" she asked batting her eyelids again with pretend confusion. "Follow me. Your seat awaits you. Front row center. Best seat for the best show," I said deciding to jump into the role play. I led her upstairs to our bedroom. "Please make yourself comfortable right here." I pointed to the foot of our bed. I piled up some pillows there for her comfort and some more against the headboard for me. "Please turn off all cell phones, pagers and other electronic devices. For the performer's safety, please, no flash photography. Video and/or audio recording is allowed for this show as per previous agreement," I recited a variation of the litany we'd heard so many times at the theater. "Please have your tickets ready to show the usher." Barbara's eyes widened. "But I have no ticket. I must have misplaced it. Whatever shall I do?" she asked in mock terror. "I'm sure we can work out an appropriate form of payment at a later time," I answered smiling wolfishly. "Please be aware that this is an adults only show, nobody under the age of 18 is allowed. You did bring a photo id didn't you?" I asked continuing my role. "I'm afraid not. But I can show you these," she answered opening her corset and allowing her gorgeous breasts to spill free. "And this," she spread her legs wide, and pulled aside her panties so I could see her labia which were beginning to swell. "Would that be enough to get me into the show?" you asked. I tore my eyes away from her crotch and answered, "Yes. That will most definitely do." "I'm so glad. I really want to see this show. I've been looking forward to it all day long," Barbara breathed. I continued with my role play. "The management reminds you that this is a highly interactive show. The audience is strongly encouraged to demonstrate appreciation at any time during the performance. You may also be asked for direct participation at various points. This is for your enjoyment and we suggest that you throw yourself into the action as much as you feel comfortable doing ... and we hope you feel very comfortable." I was really starting to have fun. "Now sit back, do not relax, and enjoy." I dimmed the overhead lights and lit some candles. I turned on the iPod that I had preloaded with sexually themed songs, then stood in front of her. "You may inspect 'the material' before the show begins," I said slightly thrusting my hips toward Barbara as I pulled my tee shirt off over my head. She licked her lips as she reached out to me. I felt her hands caress me through the mesh and my cock swelled. She continued to stroke me as I grew harder stretching the thin fabric of my underwear. "Mmmmm. The 'material' looks pretty good to me through these, but I would like a closer look," she said. "By all means, make as close an inspection as you like," I replied. Barbara's fingers slid up the inside of the underwear, cupping then stroking my naked balls before she slowly pulled them off fully exposing me. My stiff cock bobbed free in front of her. "Yes, it definitely looks better like this," she purred. "Let's get a good look at everything shall we. Spread your legs for me," she commanded. "The audience is always right," I said as I opened my legs wide for her. "Definitely high quality 'material'. Nice and smooth." Barbara rubbed her hands over my hair-free balls and back toward my butt. "Good and firm." Her hands stroked up and down my rock hard shaft. "Material of this quality should be on the best display possible," she said tightening the cockstrap by one snap thereby pushing my surging balls and throbbing cock even farther forward. "That will make for a much better show, don't you think?" The sensation of the cockstrap tightening around me was incredible and was further amplified by the feel of her fingernails gently scraping down the full length of my shaft. I gasped and my knees buckled slightly. She smiled, obviously happy with herself and the power over me that she was openly wielding. "You definitely pass inspection. On with the show!" Barbara said with a wave of her hand. It took a lot of concentration, but despite the sexy prelude, I willed my hard-on to deflate at least at little bit. I sat down on the bed and reclined against the pillows that I had piled up at the headboard. My semi-flaccid cock drooped against my stomach, but was pushed forward along with my balls by the cockstrap. "Please make yourself comfortable in any way that you want," I said. Barbara pushed my feet a bit farther apart and scooted up closer to me saying, "I want a good view. I don't want to miss a single moment." She reached over to the bedside table and touched a button on her cell phone setting the camera in motion. I was surprised when I felt a tingle of excitement run through me with the knowledge that I was being recorded. I ran my hands down my neatly trimmed chest toward my groin. "I don't want you to miss a thing either," I said and began slowly running my fingers through the short tuft of pubic hair just above my strapped cock. As it began to stir, with my right hand I ran my fingers over my hairless balls gently stroking them so that they began to surge against the leather strap. I was staring right at my wife and saw her eyes widen. I bent my knees, further spreading my legs so that I could extend my stroking down onto my perineum, the space between my balls and anus. She shifted restlessly between my legs and I heard her breathing pick up. My cock grew rapidly. "I like it when you see me get hard for you. I love being hard for you," I said staring intently at her. I ran both hands down over my balls and then back up the underside of my now fully erect and throbbing cock. "Do you like me being hard for you?" I teased. Barbara locked her eyes on my hands rubbing over my cock, and panted "Yes. I love your hard dick." "How much do you love my hard cock?" I continued to tease now pulling at my balls while wrapping my other hand around my shaft. "I really, really love your cock and what it does for me." Her breasts were heaving up and down as her breathing continued to pick up. I slid my hand slowly up and down the length of my shaft pausing to squeeze the tip, making it swell even more. "And what can my throbbing, aching, rock hard cock do for you?" I asked. My breathing was also speeding up as I stimulated myself more. "It can fuck me deep in my pussy," she said. Wrestling back the control I could hear slipping away from her, she added, "But not tonight. Tonight, you're going to show me how you hand fuck yourself 'til you explode." When Barbara said the word "fuck", it was so lust filled that I caught my breath. It was incredibly erotic, laying on the bed with my legs spread wide in front of her. I was her show, on display for her pleasure and I was loving it. I let go of my cock so that it slapped loudly against my stomach. I sat up and leaned in close to her. I was just inches from her body. Heat simmered off of her and it spurred me on. "I so want to do that for you," I purred into Barbara's ear. A low moaned escaped her lips as she stiffened. "Audience participation time. I'd like you to add some of that lube that's on the table .... please," I said with my lips against her ear. I nibbled gently on her earlobe and felt her shudder. Then I laid back against the pillows, put my arms behind my head, and spread my legs as wide as I could. Barbara smiled. She reached for the bottle of lube, "Of course. Anything to help the performance." As I lay there, she dramatically dribbled a generous amount of the lube over my raging hard-on. When the cold gel hit me I gasped and that brought a wicked smile to her lips. I moaned loudly letting her know how much I liked it. "Please continue with the show," Barbara instructed. At her encouragement I began rubbing the cool lube over my balls, massaging them against the tight leather strap "Mmmm. That feels nice," I said continuing to spread the slippery stuff up over my throbbing hard-on. "Almost as good as feeling your warm, wet pussy juices on me," I added and wrapped one hand around my shaft . "Mmmm. Wet and slippery. Just the way I like it. Just the way you are." I slowly slid my fist up the length of my cock. I moved my hand back down the length of my shaft pulling my skin taunt so that every vein stood out and my cockhead bulged. I did this a few more times, building up the intensity of the stimulation. My cock was rock hard, rigid, pulsing and glistening in the candle light, covered in slippery wetness. Barbara's eyes had been locked on my hand until she glanced up at me. She smiled and deliberately and sensuously licked her lips. "That looks so hot," she pronounced, adding, "You treat my cock so well." I paused my stroking, letting myself back down from my building orgasm. I didn't want this show to end too quickly. I held my stiff cock upright with my hand, catching my breath, trying to keep from cumming. Barbara picked up the cell phone and scooted even closer to me, until she was sitting snugly between my thighs. She pointed the camera directly at my pulsating cock. "I love seeing you like this, spread eagle and open in front of me." She was narrating my "show" for the camera, goading me on and we both knew that it would work. "My cock looks so good like this, all stiff and shiny, your hand wrapped around it making it stiffer and harder. Don't stop. Keep going. I want to see more." I felt her hand push on my thigh, encouraging me to spread my legs even wider, opening me up even more for her viewing and recording pleasure. Her fingers stroked my skin. I wrapped my legs around her and began sliding my hand up and down my pulsing hard-on. I started slowly at first. Long strokes from the base where the cockstrap encircled me, all the way to the tip where I added an extra squeeze and a twist. The sensations were familiar and great, but even more fabulously erotic because of Barbara's voyeurism. I knew that each stroke made my cock head swell and I wanted her to see that. I wanted her to see everything; me open and exposed under her scrutiny. I wanted to perform for her and please her. "Yes. Yes. Stroke that cock for me. Show me how you please yourself," she said holding the camera phone steady. "I want every single second." I let myself go, releasing all inhibitions under her urging and began to pump my cock in earnest. Faster and faster I slid my hand up and down my slippery hard shaft. Unconsciously I began thrusting my hips in coordination with each stroke. Past the sound of the blood pounding in my ears, I heard Barbara panting and could feel her body swaying in unison with my movements. I was on the edge, lost in a haze of self pleasure and the joy of sharing it with her. "Cum for me! Cum for me!" she called out. My hand was tight around my cock, as I bucked my hips upward and exploded. Her fingernails dug hard into my thigh at that moment intensifying my climax. Jets of warm cum erupted up into the air and then down onto my stomach and chest. I continued pumping my cock as it spewed what felt like a bucket of cum. Slowly, I came back down to earth, catching my breath as my orgasm faded and my cock softened. "Wow. That was amazing," Barbara said as I lay there spent. "You made quite a mess." I could hear the lust still in her voice. She put the phone back in its cradle on the bedside table "Do you know what you taste like?" she suddenly asked startling me a bit. "Kind of," I panted back still trying to catch my breath. "Sometimes I can taste myself on your lips after you make me cum with your mouth. I like that." "Like what?" she asked languidly massaging a puddle of still warm cum against my stomach with one hand. She reached over me and adjusted the angle of the phone with her other. I realized she was still recording. "I like the idea of kissing you after you've had me in your mouth. Kissing where you gave me so much pleasure," I answered. "So you 'kind of' know what you taste like." I could hear in her voice the gleam that was definitely in her eyes. "Now you can definitely know what you taste like." In a flash she scooped up some of my cum with her fingers and ran them over my lips before forcing them into my mouth. "We do have to clean up our messes after all don't we," she said. The Bet Barbara's passion aroused me despite my orgasmic release. I moaned, letting her probe her wet, salty fingers deep into my mouth. "Good boy," she purred gazing at me with approval. She gathered another glob of my semen and penetrated me again. In and out she went, fucking my mouth with her cum-covered fingers. "No reason to finish cleaning up this mess yet. I'm going to make another one," she announced as she rose up and straddled my chest. I could see that her panties were soaked, literally dripping wet. The thin fabric clung to her swollen labia. With one hand she braced herself on the headboard, with the other she pulled aside the sodden fabric of her underwear, fully exposing her swollen pussy just inches from my face. A thin sheen of her juices coated the inside of her thighs. The sight and smell were exhilarating. Barbara looked down at me, and announced, "Your show was excellent. But it's my show time now." She smiled then adjusted the cell phone again so that it was pointed directly at her crotch. "I don't want you to miss a single moment." I grinned. With a passionate moan she began rubbing her clit, drawing me in to her own act of self pleasure that I knew would end in her own explosive orgasm. The Bet I sat in the dark, waiting for the hurt to pass, as it always does. Waiting for my heart to stop thudding painfully in my chest. Waiting for the last tear to fall. Wishing his drunken tirades were something in the past. Wishing he was in the past. Thank heavens there were only the six of us at Benny's place. Tonight, Steve sucked down a third of a bottle of crown and proceeded to denounce me. After all this time, I didn't even let it show, just one more bullshit round of life to deal with and move on from. It's not my fault he didn't realize who was there, watching. Then again, maybe he did realize, and that's why he started in on me. My skirt's too short, my heels too high, my everything was just plain wrong in his eyes. As soon as Benny took him off for a little space, I downed two swallows of hearty Jameson's, feeling the fire burn it's way to my belly. I looked up, finally seeing him, holding the Jameson's bottle, ready to pour me another. I've always been attracted to him, he's adorable. Blond hair, brown eyes, incredibly delicious body. We'd danced together a couple of times at weddings. Once, I know I felt him, huge and hard against me while we swayed, drunkenly, to some love song. I'd felt all those tingles women talk about, the pulls, the heat. After that dance, we'd gone out on the veranda of this function hall, still arm in arm, and in the deepening dusk, he'd kissed me. A really awesome smackeroo. If my gal pal date hadn't been looking to me to drive her drunken puking ass home, I'm absolutely certain I'd've fucked him that night. Even then, things weren't all that great between me and my boyfriend. I'd've fucked his brains out and kept fucking his brains out till oh, I don't know, a million years from now? But, I did my drunken good deed, drove my pal home, drove myself home, and replayed that kiss, that bump and grind as I masturbated, wishing it was him. It's been three years since that wedding, but I still remember his taste, like cherries, sweet. I nodded to him for another shot, and he refilled my glass. I glanced around Benny's "conversation pit", seeing Benny and his lady of the month, getting hot and bothered, and seeing Charlene joining in their games, really got through my fog. I looked back at him, behind the bar. He was watching me, seeing the heat rise to my cheeks, seeing my flush rise, seeing my breathing start to run ragged. I downed the shot, reached across the bar, grabbed his shirt, pulled him to me and kissed him. Cherries, sweetly intoxicating. His tongue teased mine, his lips devoured mine. His hands reached across the bar, filling themselves with my breasts, groping, squeezing, pinching. "I've wanted you for a long time girl." "I know. I've wanted you too. Wanted to feel you, all over, in my hands." I said, reaching over and down to stroke the bulge in his khakis, groping at his hidden meat. He groaned as I stroked. "In my mouth," I whispered against his jaw, "in my pussy..." he took my mouth with his, overpowering my thought. "I need to get you outta here." he said, disengaging himself, coming around the bar, to stand before my stool, between my legs. "This skirt really isn't short enough for me." he grinned, lifting it higher on my thighs, "...and this blouse, definitely not low cut enough for me." he said, pulling it from my body, tossing it across the room. "And these shoes...with these thigh high stockings you've got on, these are the sexiest things I've ever seen. I think of you a lot, wearing these stockings, and only these stockings as you ride me." he rubbed tight against me. "I thought you wanted to get outta here?" I whispered as his fingers trailed over my uncovered body. He leaned me back over the bar, and sucked at my nipples through the filmy silk bra, warming and chilling my nipples, making them hard, making them ache, and making me ache. His hands roamed my body, committing every curve to memory, every dip, and every hollow. His tongue and mouth followed his hands. Rubbing, sucking, stroking. From where I lay sprawled, I could see Benny, Charlene and Drina in the mirror. Charlene was riding Benny's tongue, Drina was riding his cock, and the girls were in a steamy lip lock, stroking and pinching each other's nipples. This was usually what happened at Benny's. And usually, the boyfriend and I were long gone before this act happened. I reveled in this freedom, this sexual upheaval, this hedonism. He raised me from the bar, stood me beside him. "You alright?" he whispered, gazing at me. I nodded, not able to speak. "You know that Benny slipped him a pill right?" Again I nodded. "It won't knock him out for long. He and I talked a while back. He says he loves you but I know its shit. He did say one thing to me that caught my attention. He wanted you to do both him and me together." My eyes crossed, confusion flooded through my already overloaded brain. "Here's what I want you to do. Go in, give him a blowjob he won't forget...and I'll be right behind you, eating this." he said sliding his fingers under the waistband of my panties, pulling them off, sliding one finger teasingly inside. "Let's see what happens..." I stood, wobbly, because he was still fingering me, leaned against him as he brought me to orgasm. "Mmmm, nice and wet. c'mon, I want to watch you suck his cock, as I eat you." I trembled, not from fear, but from wanting. We walked down the short hallway to Benny's spare bedroom. It was dark, but I could see Steve laying on the bed, passed out. I crawled on beside him, unbuckled his belt, stroking him through his shorts, til his cock rose to the occasion. As my mouth latched onto his cock, I heard Steve's muzzy voice groan. I felt his tongue trace a circle on my hip, felt his fingers slide in me, raise me to my knees, as I still sucked Steve's cock, felt his tongue slither between my lips, his fingers plunging inside me. "Whatthe..." Steve's voice groaned, seeing me hovering, quivering over him. He watched his friend burying his face in my pussy. "Dude, she needs a righteous fucking, can you do that for her?" Steve groaned, as I licked his head, swallowed his shaft. I felt him rise up behind me, felt his fingers spread my lips wide, and felt him slide inside me. With each stroke I hummed and throbbed on Steve's cock, until he couldn't stand it, and let loose his release. None too gently, Steve pushed me off his withering member, rolled out from under me, got up and sat in the chair. "C'mon, man, fuck her. She really likes it hard." Steve watched as we fucked, watched as his friend brought me to orgasm, more than he ever had, or wanted to. Watched as we shifted positions, as his friend's cock went deeper in my hole, as his friend rubbed my clit until I screamed with pleasure, as I came all over him. Sometime during our marathon fucking, Steve left. Don't know when, don't care. All I knew was there is a hot, hard cock and I want to suck him dry. I want to swallow him whole. And I told him so, and he let me. As I let him fuck me ragged, fuck me hard, fuck me slow and steady, fuck me til I screamed again, and again. Through our nap to wake and fuck some more. "Mmmm, morning." he said sliding inside my wet, drippy hole, bringing me right back to that high pinnacle of pleasure that feels almost like death, but makes you feel so alive. His mouth swallowed my moans, then my grunts as he pounded inside me, then my screams as he plunged me over the edge. His weight on top of me, should've been heavy but it felt just right. His eyes were tired as he gazed down at me, tired but twinkling. "What? What is it?" "Remember how I told you that Steve and I talked?" "Yeah?" "I bet him I could get you to do us both. He bet against it, said you were too tightly wound to do it. Said if I could do it, I could have you. Keep you. Said he'd move to Carrier the next day." I was stunned. Shell-shocked. Would I have done this if he, Steve, hadn't pushed me so far away? I just had to grin. "Y'know something? Steve didn't think I knew what was going on at these parties. Thought I was wound too tightly? Charlene's been telling me all the deets for months. How Steve would come back after he brought me home and how he'd watch, drink, try to jerk off, and get mad when he couldn't keep his dick hard. Charlene even demonstrated for me a couple of times. Or should I say instructed me?" "Instructed you?" "Yeah, we had our own fling about three months ago. It was great and all, but I guess I prefer a big hard, throbbing cock to a strap on, no matter how well used it is." "Really?" "Oh yeah...what?" He rose over me, slid inside. "Feel that?" "Oh, yes." I breathed, feeling him fill me up with big hard throbbing man cock. Felt him toss me to the stars with every stroke, felt my quivers shatter his control as we rocked hard against each other. Felt his plunge over the edge with his throbbing cock shooting the path to ecstasy. Raising me up to impale me on him, to hold onto me tightly, before collapsing back to the mattress, to sleep the sleep of the well fucked. The Bet After that everybody started doing body shots off of everybody. Even the other girls at the party started to let guys do shots off of their belly buttons. Some guys took their penis’s out and Rachel did a few shots off of them. Eventually we ran out of tequila and the party started to wind down. It was about 3 o’clock in the morning and Teddy and I decided to head back to our room. We went back to our room and Teddy and I had more incredible sex on our balcony. We then slept until about 11:30 and ordered breakfast. When it was time to go out to the beach I walked out of the room still naked. Teddy looked at the clock and said, “It’s after 12:00 you know, you don’t have be stay naked anymore.” “I know” I said smiling, “But I kinda like it now, is that ok with you.” He said of course and we headed down for another day at the beach. The rest of the vacation was great. Me and the other girls stayed naked on the beach for the rest of the week and got great tans needless to say. The only time we got dressed after that was when we went out to the clubs. All in all it was a great time and I am sure not one any of us would ever forget. The Bet It was a foolish bet. Patricia should have known she couldn't walk the curb to the end of the block, after they had been partying for a few hours, but they were giggling and she was carefully putting one foot in front of the other when Teri offered... an evening in Patricia 's absolute control if she could continue to the end of the block without falling off, and an evening with her in Teri's control if she couldn't. It was an enticing thought... to have her tall slim girlfriend do whatever she bid. She almost made it, too, but let her mind wander to the possibilities, caught her toe and off she went. Teri and Patricia had been friends since high school, lovers since college, and nothing felt as completely erotic as time spent teasing each other, especially doing risky things. So, as she buttoned her scoop necked sleeveless top, a shorty, light blue and thin cotton number that hung deliciously over her very full and very naked breasts, she tingled a little in anticipation of what was to come. She looked in the mirror, and saw her long dark hair caressing her shoulders, her trim waist, bare navel flirting with all to see, a very short denim skirt also with buttons, and lovely muscular legs, trim and firm, thighs suggestively wide, 4" black heels, and a slight flush in her face. She knew it came from the sexy way she felt, braless, with the tiniest white lace thong under her skirt. Her butt cheeks felt sexy against the denim fabric as she stepped to her dresser, sprayed a tiny bit of Eternity between her breasts and under her ears, and slyly left the top button undone, allowing the sensuous curve of the tops of her breasts to show. Teri waited on the couch, smiling to herself, and putting the last of 8 numbered instructions into Patricia's purse. She couldn't know that she would use them all, but there were several that she knew would cause them both huge pleasure... in anticipation, in daring, in the thrill that they both loved. Patricia was bound by her bet to open the instructions as Teri flashed her numbers across the room, and to follow each, regardless of the situation. It gave Teri surges of excitement in her tummy, and she knew Patricia was feeling similar jolts, not knowing just how far she would have to go. As they drove the wide street to the dance club they were to visit, Teri wondered if she had dressed too provocatively herself. After all, she wanted to watch the action tonight, not be the center of attention. But she agreed to dress as Patricia wanted, just as Patricia wore what Teri instructed. So Teri looked down at her own silky buttoned top, short sleeved with a loose collar, unbuttoned and cut to be open almost to between her breasts. She wasn't braless, but she might as well have been, as her 32b cone shaped breasts rode high on a white lace shelf bra, her nipples poking insolently at the fabric of her blouse, and showing clearly in the cool evening air. Her top was untucked, waist length, lavender above a black miniskirt that was way too short to sit without almost showing all the way to her crotch. She, too, was wearing a thong... white nylon that contrasted with her tanned legs, and she felt the thong slide wickedly into the groove between her asscheeks as she shifted in the car. Patricia's hand casually stroked her thigh as they drove, and at stoplights they leaned over to kiss, a little nervously, but with tremendous excitement. Patricia could feel dampness already creeping along her passage, gathering in her pussy, and wondered if she could keep it under control. In the parking lot they nuzzled their noses and tasted each other's mouths for a moment before going in. They let their hands wander to each other's nipples, fingers finding the hard nubs through their clothing, just teasing themselves up a little, gathering courage, and enjoying the wild feelings. "One last chance, lover," Teri offered. "If we go for it, you are my toy, and will do whatever I say while we are there. " "It was a fair bet, Teri, and I'm yours to control, my sweet," Pat replied in a low whisper. "May it excite you more than ever. " Pat could feel her heart racing at the thought of what she might be asked to do, and wanted so much to do it well, to do it right for Teri. "I am ready my love... command me. " They found the club typically filled, smoky, loud and raucus, with a number of couples dancing, many others standing on the perimeter of the dance floor, many seated around various tables that completed three sides of the room with the walk up bar long and busy along the fourth side of the room. A live band was slightly elevated at one end, and a projector flashed sensual colorful waving shapes on the large wall at the opposite end. Teri found a table in one corner, away from the band and opposite the bar, where she could watch. She directed Patricia to an empty seat at the bar, and whispered "Number 1. " The first of the numbered papers in Pat's small shoulder strap purse simply directed Pat to order a drink, lift her glass slightly at Teri, and consume it in a gulp. Pat did as directed, and silently reprimanded herself for not eating something before coming. She knew as the warmth spread through her tummy that the light giddy feeling of a little alcohol would further open her inhibitions, and she smiled inwardly. She had hardly finished when the bartender put another in front of her, motioning towards Teri as the provider. Teri smiled, and lifted her glass in salute across the room. Pat knew that she shouldn't drink too much too fast, but she felt the wildness grow in her, and some confidence, and smiled back, drinking deeply again. Teri smiled and held up two fingers, the sign for Pat to follow the next instruction. As she read the words, her face flushed a little, feeling warm, maybe from the was an upbeat and fun place to be anyway, and everyone seemed to be in a party mood. The paper instructed Pat to look around and find someone who seemed to be watching her, and point herself at the person, make eye contact, flirt. Pat scoured the room, and though she had several choices, as her lovely body did attract many glances, there was only one female who seemed interested. She was sitting at a table between Pat and Teri, with a good looking male friend, talking, and both of them from time to time clearly let their eyes wander to Pat as she perched on the barstool with her drink in her hand. Pat smiled and ran her tongue along the rim of her glass. The girl smiled back, and sipped her own drink, then whispered something in her boyfriend's ear. He laughed and they kissed, then both turned to look at Patricia. Teri had followed Patricia's gaze, and noticed the couple watching her. She raised three fingers, and saw Pat quickly read the next instruction. Teri giggled to herself, wondering if her sexy lover woman really dared. Pat felt herself melting with the excitement of the power of her agreement. She thrilled to the sexy feelings inside herself, and when she read the words, "Unbutton the two bottom buttons of your skirt," she felt her heartbeat quicken. She slowly reached down and slipped first one, then the other round brass button loose, and knew that she of her. She wondered if anyone had seen. Sitting the way she was, with her back to the bar, her breasts were thrust a little forward, their perfect round outlines clear under the light blue cotton, and her now rock hard nipples clearly pressing further. She glanced down, and was amazed that she could actually see the wrinkles and bumps of her contracted areola through the fabric as well. She allowed her knees to slide open a little, even though she had not been instructed to. It was natural, the way she felt, to open them, totally ignoring where she was, closing out the surroundings. She knew that Teri could see, and Pat wanted her to. It was crazy. Teri had hardly ever felt this excited. Pat was in a zone, she could tell, and Teri's own juices were beginning to flow. She let one finger steal upward to her left nipple, flicking the very tip lightly while she watched. She knew that Pat could see her, and knew by the way that Pat bit her lower lip that the pleasure in her own body was being matched by her partner. She held up 6 fingers, indicating the next message Pat was to read. Pat slipped the paper from her purse, and read it. Her mouth opened in surprise, and she quickly looked around to see how obvious she might be to others around her. She found the eyes of several interested people, and the young couple she had been flirting with among them. She found Teri's eyes, and saw Teri's head nodding slightly, urging her to continue. Following the written directions, Pat, slipped one finger into her icy drink, and casually, with her right elbow on the bar, moved her wet finger to her right nipple, wetting her shirt so it plastered itself to her shape, the cool wetness making it rise further, if that was possible. She saw Teri lick her lips, and motion with a rolling hand... "more"... and more she did, wetting her finger again, and applying it to her top, until she nearly swooned from her own self stimulation. Four fingers up, and Pat read the note: "Bring me your panties. " She slipped off the barstool, and walked directly past the couple she had been flirting with, stopping by the woman briefly, and exchanging warm smiles. She made her way to the bathroom, removed her now soaked thong panties without even going into a stall, and smiling haughtily at two other girls who looked at her in amazement, left, panties in hand. She dropped them in Teri's lap, leaned down to give her a long kiss, and allowed Teri's fingers to find her nipples again. "MmmmmUuuuhhhh Hummm," she moaned through the wetness of Teri's mouth, responding to the touch. Then she returned to her perch on the barstool, being a little more careful to keep her legs closed, but not totally. Teri smiled wickedly, knowing that Pat was nearly out of her own control, and would do almost anything now. She fingered the wet panties, found the slippery juice that coated them and brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them greedily as she kept eye contact with Pat. The second drink was gone, and the third had begun, and the excitement of being so naughty, the drive and beat of the music all combined to create an awesome atmosphere of erotic play in Patricia, and she swayed, smiling, continuing to stroke her nipple now. Note number 7 instructed Pat to beckon whoever she had been flirting with to join her, and she lifted her other hand, curling her fingers, smiled, and motioned to the couple. They quickly rose and moved to her side, legs touching Pat's knees and thighs as others squeezed by the walkway between the bar and the first row of tables. They introduced themselves and suddenly there was Teri with them, helping Pat to stand. They moved to the line waiting for drinks at the bar, and felt themselves being pressed closer together by the sea of people, the crowd growing with the evening. "How do you like my precious pet?" Teri asked of the couple as they all laughed and smiled together, hips, arms and legs touching as the crowd moved, their feet shuffling together as they leaned in to hear each other. "She's marvelous!" said the woman, who herself was quite attractive, with medium length auburn hair and deliciously pointed breasts that sought escape from her lowcut top. "And dares to do things I only dream about. " Teri had slipped behind Pat, and moved forward, her pelvis bumping against Pat's beautiful naked buttocks, and pushing her almost into the couple ahead. "I think so too," said Teri, and she slipped her hands around Pat's waist, moving them up under the light top until they cupped Pat's delicious breasts, scissors fingers tugging at her nipples. "And she's mine tonight, to do as I command. Open your legs, my sweet pet, I think someone would like to sample you. " Pat felt her own wetness slipping from her channel, and down the insides of her thighs. She knew she was powerless, and wanted to be touched so badly. The crowd moved on by, and she knew she was at least mostly shielded by the couple so close in front of her, and Teri from behind. Suddenly she felt inquiring fingers on the upper part of her thighs, and realized that her skirt was unbuttoned right to the level of her slippery wet and ready labia. Gentle fingers circled above her mound, and Teri's warm breath cooed in her ear. She leaned back, feeling Teri's firm twin mounds press into her shoulderblades, and let her feet slide further apart. Two hands, one petite, one large, explored her mound now, pulling her labia lightly open. Teri's fingers were like magic on her nipples, and her breath was ragged. She felt the fingers explore further, the larger one sliding inside her just a little, twisting lightly, probing. "Let her taste herself," came Teri's voice, and the man removed his hand, curling fingers to bring a load of wetness to Patricia's mouth. She suckled hungrily, eyes closed, body rocking in circles with her hips against the fingers of the woman, who had found her clit and was rolling it. The man's finger returned, probing again, and entered her. She widened her feet once again, and felt Teri's hand lift her skirt from behind, and sweet fingers slip between her cheeks, sliding, to the puckered tiny rim of her ass. She exploded. All the anticipation, all the play, all the incredible stimulation of the past hour came together in her stomach, intensified, flowed in a molten river to her pussy, and she rocked, moaning, whimpering, pressing herself forward and backwards at the same time, giving herself to her orgasm, letting go. She felt her cum release, washing over the fingers that pleasured her. She felt her vagina spasm, clinching tightly, as Teri continued to stroke her from behind, the tip of her index finger barely inside Patricia's sensitive rectum. She whimpered and swayed as a second wave struck her, and the trio supported her. Slowly, it subsided, and gentle hands guided her to a nearby chair. A moment passed, and she looked around, suddenly feeling alone. The couple had departed, and Teri stood a short ways away, smiling broadly. Patricia smiled back, recovered, filled with wonder and amazed at the power of her cum. Teri mouthed the words, "Number 8... I'm in the car. " She turned and wiggled her hips suggestively as she exited. Pat reached once more into her purse and opened the numbered note. It said, "Fuck me. I need you now!!" She could hardly wait. The Bet Danielle didn't know exactly how got into this position. Everything happened so fast that she could only remember blurred segments of what brought her here. All of her inhibitions had faded shot by shot, wholly emptying the bottle of Jack that she had bought earlier. She wasn't alone in finishing the bottle though. She hated to drink alone, so she invited Jeff into her bedroom to do shots with her. Her memory was getting fuzzier by the second, as her body started to perspire. Her head was beginning to spin, but it wasn't due to the alcohol; it was because of the tornado of emotions running through her head. "How did I get myself into this again?" She thought to herself. "Oh yeah, that stupid bet." She prided herself as a self proclaimed fellatio queen. She loved to please men, mastering her skills through various different boyfriends of the past. But this wasn't a boyfriend, and the stakes were high on this bet. If she couldn't get Jeff off in less then 5 minutes, then he could do as he pleased with her body. And if she accomplished her goal, then Jeff would have to lick the alphabet across her button and then masterbate himself to orgasm over her chest. It was a win-win situation for both of them, at least physically. It was more or less just a drunk game to add some excitement to the night. As Jeff dropped his boxers from his hips, his semi hard-on had flopped down hitting Danielle on the bridge of her nose. They both broke out laughing at the spectacle, as Danielle swatted his manhood off to the side. After the laughter had calmed, and a seriousness had taken over the situation, Danielle slowly reached up and palmed Jeff's manhood. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked Jeff. "Are you chickening out?" Jeff answered. "No, I'm not chickening out." Danielle replied "But once we do this, we can't undo it." "It sounds like you want to chicken out." Jeff replied. "This is your last chance to back out." Danielle told him. "The bet's on." Jeff told her. "Okay, time starts.......now!" Jeff hit the timer button on his phone's stop-clock, as Danielle turned her palm and wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock. She leaned in to the tip of Jeff's cock, and traced it's tip across her lips as she looked deep into his eyes. She parted her lips slightly and pushed the very tip of his manhood into the opening. The tip of her tongue danced on the hole of his cock, before she clamped her lips down and sucked it like she was trying to get a strawberry up a straw. Jeff's pre-cum shot into her mouth, coating her tongue. Danielle released her suction on the tip of his cock, causing a loud smacking noise from the release. She swallowed down the appetizer that she was given, and then ran her head down his shaft until her lips met her hand. She coated the shaft of his cock with here saliva, then backed her head off it while sliding her little hand down towards his tip. As soon as her hand would clear his tip, her hand and mouth would slide back down his shaft while tightening her grip. And though her hand could not wrap entirely around his thick cock, she made sure that her fingertips were tracing the big vein on the underside of his cock. "4 minutes" Jeff moaned out while his half closed eyes shifted between the timer and Danielle. Jeff thought he was going to explode when Danielle started sucking his dick like a straw. He felt his balls contract like she had a direct root to them. He knew that if he had any chance of winning this bet, he would have to put his mind in a different place. He tried envisioning his elderly teacher being the one that was on her knees. But everytime he looked down into Danielle's eyes, the reality of the situation would knock out any dick-limping thoughts he could muster. Danielle knew Jeff was trying desperately to hold back. She could feel his cock slightly softening in her hand. This only encouraged her. While staring into Jeff's eyes, she pushed the tip of her tongue through her lips once again and curled it...tracing the sensitive rim of his circumcised cock. She put the sexiest grin on her face, as she rubbed the tip of his cock across her cheek. "3 minutes." Jeff said through clenched teeth. He was losing the battle with his willpower. His cock was lurching on it's own as his legs trembled. As Danielle rubbed his cock across her cheek, his cock lurched towards her still parted lips. It wanted back into her warm and wanting mouth. Raw lust was driving Jeff's cock, leaving his mind to fend for itself. His cock knew what it wanted, and back in that warm wet mouth was it's target. Danielle took her free hand and traced her fingers down her naval, and down through the valley of her freshly shaven pussy. Danielle parted her pussy with her middle two fingers, and rubbed circles around her little nub. She arched her back slightly, giving Jeff full view of her fingers dancing across her clit. She then released his shaft from her grip, and reached down palming Jeff's sack. Danielle needed his balls like dough, as she feverishly worked her fingers on her nub. Once she was sure that his balls were primed and ready to burst, she released her grip and grabbed back onto the shaft of his cock. She lowered her hips down until her pussy reached the back of her foot. She started grinding her pussy into her heel, bringing herself to the edge of orgasm. "Two..." whispered out of Jeff's lips. Danielle masturbating in front of him, while grinding her pussy into the back of her foot...was too much for Jeff. Danielle stuffed Jeff's cock back into her mouth as her body trembled in a great orgasm. She used Jeff's cock to stifle her scream, causing her lips to vibrate on the tip of his cock. Jeff's cock could last no longer. Jeff felt his balls contract, and the race of come run through the vein on the underside of his cock. "Nooo..." Jeff let out as his body betrayed him. Rope after rope of cum shot into Danielle's mouth, filling the back of her throat. She clamped her throat muscles down and used her mouth like a cup, as Jeff's balls unloaded into her. After the final spurt spammed inside her mouth, she pulled her lips away from his cock. It took Danielle a couple of swallows to empty his cum into her belly. Danielle put the tip of Jeff's cock back into her mouth. She flattened her tongue against the roof of her mouth, sucking every last drop out of Jeff. Once she was sure that he was totally cleaned out, she dragged her teeth across his sensitive tip. Jeff's legs collapsed beneath him, causing him to fall back against the wall and onto his ass. "That was mean!" Jeff exclaimed. "What?" Daniel said. "I was just making sure I did a thorough job!" she said with a sexy and wicked grin on her face." "Oh, and you owe me the alphabet, as soon as you recover!" "Your right, you won." Jeff answered. ****************************************** Danielle got up, from kneeling on the ground, and crawled up onto the bed. She layed on her back, slightly spreading her legs while bending her knees. Her bald little pussy was splayed out for Jeff to see. She pushed a pillow under her head, while she enjoyed the cool breeze from the air conditioner blowing against her pussy. She was still on fire from the orgasm, and a little sore from grinding her pussy into her heal. The cool air helped take her mind off the throbbing ache going on between her legs. Jeff got up off the floor and walked over to the other side of the bed. His spent cock slapped against his thighs as he walked. Once at the unoccupied side of the bed, he turned around and then dropped backwards into the empty space. As he hit the bed, his cock came down and slapped against his pubic bone. The noise echoed through the now silent room. Danielle and Jeff looked at each other and laughed at the broken silence. Jeff pulled a pillow under his own head, while trying to calm his rapid breathing. His chest was still heaving from the massive orgasm that had knocked him on his ass. Danielle turned on the television to occupy the time while they both recovered. After watching an hour long show, Danielle reached up and ran her fingers through Jeff's hair. Once her fingertips got close to the scalp, she wrapped his hair into her fist and tightened her grip. Jeff looked at Danielle, confused about the hair grabbing. "Now eat it!" Danielle told Jeff as she pulled his head towards her bent knees. Jeff had no choice but to follow her fistfull of hair. He sat up and crawled in the direction his head was forced to go. Danielle maneuvered her leg around Jeff's head, spreading her legs further apart. She guided Jeff between her legs, and pressed his face down to her pussy. Jeff was in shock from what Danielle was doing to him. He followed her lead until his mouth was pressed against the lips of her pussy. He felt Danielle raise her hips, grinding her pussy into his chin. Jeff was in unfamiliar territory now, since he had never seen or participated in anything like this. He felt his lips getting pushed down hard onto her pussy. He felt a slight throb go through his lips, and knew he would end up with two fat lips from this rough play. Danielle closed her eyes and arched her back. She took her free hand and entangled a handful of hair into that hand as well. She had total control over Jeff's head. She pushed his face down hard into her pussy, seeking any kind of contact with her clit. Once her clit found Jeff's lips, she grounded herself hard against his closed mouth. She was getting turned on just by taking control of Jeff's head. She changed her mind about the alphabet. She was going to fuck Jeff's face until orgasm. Jeff had absolutely no control over his head once Danielle introduced her other hand to his head. He had know idea what he should be doing, and was basically a little scared at what Danielle was doing. He knew his lips were going to swell from the force of her grinding into them. Jeff took a deep breathe, and relinquished all control to Danielle. Danielle's orgasm was starting to boil in her groin. She held Jeff's head hard against her pussy while she bucked her hips up and down. She used his chin to stretch the opening of her hole, while his lips pressed hard against her clit. As her stomach began to tense and the explosion had built up, she started to fuck his face as hard as she could. She heard Jeff exhale, and then take another gulp of breathe. She buried his chin into her hole as her orgasm exploded. Her body convulsed as her legs spasmed. She quickly pulled his head away from her pussy because of the sensitivity that consumed her groin. As she freed her hands from Jeff's hair, she clamped her legs together and crawled into the fetal position. Her body was at the most vulnerable state due to the over-sensitive nerves that flooded her lower regions. Jeff took his forearm, and wiped the fluids from his lower face and chin. He felt like a glazed doughnut, as the fluids started to dry on his face. He closed his eyes and wiped away any residue that was in the area. Once Jeff had finished getting most of Danielle's fluids off his face, he finally spoke. "What the fuck?" Jeff asked. "That was your alphabet." Danielle mumbled as she was barely able to lift her head from the pillow. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it because your cock is saying otherwise." Danielle continued. Jeff looked down between his legs and sure enough, his dick was pointing straight up into the air. His sack was no longer paper thin against his balls as his body had already replenished some of the fluids he had lost earlier. Jeff startled his knees across Danielle's body until he was just below her breasts. He turned Danielle back over onto her back, and dragged the tip of his dick around one of her nipples. "Not now. I can't." Danielle told Jeff. Jeff continued his teasing of Danielle's nipples using his dick to circle them going back and forth between the two. Jeff then put his hands on both sides of Danielle's breasts, pressing them together. He guided his cock between the middle of her breasts, humping his dick in and out of them. As Danielle opened her eyes, she could see Jeff's cock sliding between her breasts. Her mouth started watering immediately, as her pussy started to heat back up. She stared lustfully at the cock poking in and out of her breasts. She gave into her body's cravings as she reached her hand down between her legs. She separated the petals of her rising bud, seeking out her nub. Once her fingers found their target; she started rubbing her button profusely. Jeff started to get close to his second orgasm. He let go of the pressure that held Danielle's breasts together, and wrapped his hands around the shaft and tip of his cock. He masterfully started masterbatimg himself, squeezing as he thrusted and loosening as he pulled back. A drop of pre-cum built up at the tip of his cock, then dropped down onto Danielle's nipple. Danielle's mouth turned to cotton, as she panted hard. She wanted Jeff's orgasm in her mouth to remedy the cottonmouth. Jeff started increasingly the speed of his stokes as he was on the verge of orgasm. Danielle sensed that Jeff was close, and opened her mouth wider to take his seed. Jeff grunted as ropes of come came shooting from his cock. The first strand of cum had shot across the air and landed a line that went from Danielle's hair, down to her chin. The second shot of cum hit Danielle in the chin, and pearled around her neck. Jeff shifted his body and guided the third strand of cum across her breasts. As soon as Danielle felt the hot liquid christening her face, her pussy spasmed into it's own orgasm. Her fingers stayed on her clit until Jeff emptied himself over her breasts, neck, and face. Danielle's mind had brought on multiple orgasms. Everytime she closed her eyes, she seen Jeff's cock erupting his seed causing her to orgasm repeatedly. When her body fully exhausted itself; Danielle passed out. Jeff grabbed his boxers and left the room, giving Danielle the peace she needed to recover. The Bet I sipped my drink, watching the action around me, and sighed. It seemed like watching was all I ever got to do. I was stuck in a catch-22: I wanted to find someone who could accept everything about me, but I wasn't willing to tell anyone anything about me until I was sure they'd accepted me. A gay BDSM club probably wasn't the best choice for having deep personal conversations, and coming out to random strangers as transgender has never been my cup of tea. A voice from behind me caused me to jump in my seat. "You know, if you're not planning on playing, you can just pay the voyeur cover. It's cheaper." I turned to the source of the voice, and suddenly found myself unable to come up with a coherent response. I've always had a thing for handsome older men, with their silver hair and distinguished lines around the mouth and eyes; this guy had everything I look for. The mystery man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of my booth. I had to twist my neck around to see him clearly, meaning that my head ended up right next to his elbow with his right hand just brushing my chest. "Well, I'm not a voyeur, uh, I guess I just haven't..." I trailed off, not sure where I was going with my sentence. "I see you here every week for the last two months and you've never even approached anyone to scene. It can't be that you're too shy or too new to BDSM, though; you talk to everybody and you've watched some pretty intense scenes without flinching. So what's the hangup?" I closed my eyes briefly, trying to collect my thoughts. This was the kind of thing I was afraid of, being cornered and asked to explain myself. Then I opened them and I made my first mistake. I got defensive. And when I get defensive, I get mouthy. "You've been watching me here for weeks? Why do you care so much whether I scene or not?" As soon as the words came out, I wished them back. I was honestly pretty flattered this very attractive man had been eying me, for one thing. And I did want someone to care whether I scened or not; in fact, I wanted someone to scene with all the time. The man seemed to be able to read the meaning behind my words. He smiled wickedly at me and stepped around to slide into the booth next to me, forcing me to scoot down toward the closed end. He twisted to face me, setting one arm on the back of the booth and the other on the table. A shiver went through my body when I realized he had effectively trapped me in the booth, then another when I realized he'd seen how I was affected - and he liked it. "I care because I'm a Dom. We're nosy assholes when we come across a sub who isn't getting what he needs. As for why I was watching you...I guess you don't know how watchable you are." He punctuated this last statement by reaching out and brushing some stray hairs off my forehead. I'd been meaning to get it cut for a while, so my hair was a few inches long and bushy. The unexpectedly intimate brush of his fingertips left burning trails across my skin. "How old are you?" "I'm 25." "You look younger." "I get that a lot." "It's a good age. Figuring out who you are and where you fit in the world as an adult, instead of an overgrown teenager. I'm Allan, by the way." "I'm Ray. It's nice to meet you." "You too. But back to business. You're obviously in the market for a Dom. You make conversation easily. You aren't scared of the clientele or the activities. So what's the problem?" I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. Gorgeous older man or not, I wasn't ready to tell him. So I made my second mistake. I didn't lie, but I didn't tell the truth either. "I'm not comfortable taking any of my clothes off in the club." "So? How is that a problem?" "So? I'm a sub." I snapped. "How is someone supposed to do a scene dominating me if I'm still wearing all my clothes?" Allan's laugh was rich and warm, and almost erased my feelings of annoyance at having him dismiss my problems so easily. "You don't know as much about BDSM as I thought, if you believe that." I shrugged, unconvinced, especially since the real problem ran much deeper than a simple reluctance to get undressed. I'd been burned a couple of times by guys that I thought liked me for me but couldn't get past the fact that I didn't have a cock. Allan looked at me for a moment, then spoke. "Tell you what. I'll make a bet with you." I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "What kind of bet?" "A BDSM bet. I'll bet that I can successfully dominate you, in and out of a scene, without taking off your clothes or touching you in any non-public areas." "And if you can't?" "So quick to assume I'll fail, are you?" Allan made a mock-scowl at me but there was no malice behind it. "If at the end of our time together, you don't feel you've been successfully 'dominated' - and I'll even let you be the judge of that - I will get you a gift certificate to cover another two months of entry fees." He smiled another of his wicked grins. "I'd like a chance to try again if it doesn't work out tonight." He paused, waiting for me to respond. I had to ask the next obvious question. "If you win?" "Two things. One, we go somewhere private and discuss this modesty issue of yours in detail." I swallowed. "And two, once we have that worked out, I sign out a private room upstairs for the two of us to spend the night." Forget butterflies, I felt like I had woodpeckers in my stomach and they were trying to peck their way out! I had been shown the private rooms during the initial interview to get into the club. They were a cross between a motel room, with a bed, small bathroom, and shower, and a mini BDSM dungeon. I never dreamed I'd have someone take me to one. My manners finally caught up with me. "I can't let you buy me a gift certificate for two months' worth of cover charges! That's too much money from someone I don't know." Allan slid forward until I was practically within the circle of his arms. His voice was low, almost menacing. "Ray, the sub does not let the Dom do anything. The Dom does what he wants. The sub can either accept it or leave." I stared up at him, eyes wide, feeling frozen in place. I tried to stammer out an apology, but Allan touched my lips with his fingertips, silencing me. He leaned in, so close that his lips brushed my ear. "Do we have a bet?" He whispered. The "Yes, sir" slipped out before I could stop it. Allan sat back, looking smug. I swallowed hard again and tried not to hyperventilate. What was I thinking? This guy was having quite an effect on me. Allan took both my hands in his and spoke matter-of-factly, so unlike the sensual growls and whispers of a moment before that it took me by surprise. "Good. Let's talk limits. The bet has a standing limit of no clothing removal and no groping. Anything else a hard limit for you?" "Um...blood. Like, drawing blood on purpose with a blade. Watersports. Scat." Allan nodded. "Ok. I'm not into that either. Anything else?" I thought hard for a moment. "I don't like being tickled. It's just not fun. I think that's about it, though." Allan chuckled. "Well, I can work with that." Suddenly, his grip on my wrists went from friendly to confining, and my heart rate sped up. His voice shifted back to the low register. "You like being tied up, though? Like the idea of being strung up so you can't move, completely at my mercy?" My mouth dry, I simply nodded. "I want to hear it." "Yes, sir." I whispered. "What about spanking? Do you want me to lay you over a table and spank that little jean-covered ass of yours until you beg for mercy? With my hand, and then maybe a paddle, and then maybe something more?" I wiggled involuntarily in my seat. "Oh, god, yes." Quicker than I could blink, Allan's hand lashed out and tangled in my hair. He pulled forcefully, twisting my head back and to the side. "The answer is 'yes, SIR'," he growled. "You can add 'please' if it suits you." The feeling in my scalp shot straight my groin, and I whimpered in pain and need. "Yes, sir. Please, yes, sir." I managed to gasp out. Allan released his grip on my hair and I sagged in my seat. What had I gotten myself into? Losing this bet seemed like a foregone conclusion - I was begging during limit negotiations, for Christ's sake - and that meant I had to spend a night with this man. The rational part of my brain was clamoring for my attention, pointing out that Allan would probably lose interest once he found out what was going on under my clothes. But it was being drowned out by the rest of me, simply wanting to bask in Allan's attentions. Allan studied my face. "I gave you two, but those were easy guesses. What else is good for you?" I stared at him in mild horror. He wanted me to describe my kinks to him? Limits were easy. This was hard. He leaned back against the seat and folded his arms across his chest. "Take your time. I'll wait." I took a deep breath. "Scratching. I like being scratched. Sir." "Another easy guess. What else? One I wouldn't guess." I looked up at the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze. "It's fucked up." "This is a BDSM club. We're all fucked up. Just tell me." "Choking, okay? I like being choked. Happy?" I practically spat the words out. Allan remained unmoved. "Trust me, that's not even close to the weirdest stuff I hear. By the way," His voice dropped to the dangerous-sounding growl again, "it's still sir. You've already agreed to scene with me, and if you keep forgetting my title or using an impolite tone like that, you're going to regret it." A delicious shiver ran through every muscle in my body. Chance had brought me exactly what I was looking for. "Yes, sir." Now I just had to hope that Allan would still be interested in me once knew my real secret. The Bet It began innocently enough as a chick to chick talk between myself and Zoey, my college roommate, about the hottest guys among the rich and famous. Liam Hemsworth. Josh Hutcherson. Nick Jonas. Daniel Radcliffe. "And don't forget hunks like Brad Pitt and George Clooney," I said, aware that Zoey's list was top-heavy with guys not much older than us. "Superb specimens of masculinity, for sure, Megan," Zoey said, "but too old. I mean, George and Brad are over fifty, aren't they?" "I'd drop my panties for them in a heartbeat," I said. "That is, if they craved some extracurricular fun outside their marriage with hot, nubile femmes such as ourselves." "Even if they did, you'd have one long wait. If you want to do an older man, you'd better look outside of Hollywood." "Hmm, you might be on to something," I said. "Like Jacksonville, for instance." Jacksonville, a small burg outside a major metro area, is where Zoey and I grew up. We had been close since grade school, so close that we shared an off campus apartment at the state university. Zoey laughed. "Really Megan? Name one older guy in Jacksonville who you find attractive?" "Well, I can think of one," I said, giving her a wicked look. "And we both know who that is." Zoey shook her head and signed. "Geez, Megan, you're incorrigible. You've still got a thing for him, don't you? I meant someone else besides my DAD. He's married, not to mention that he's my dad." I had made no secret of my hots for Grant Sorenson, Zoey's forty-something dad. He was one good looking hombre, tall, dark and handsome, pardon the cliché. The guy looked like he stepped out of an ad for After Six formal wear—sophisticated, distinguished, yet also full of boyish charm. I developed a crush on Mr. Sorenson during my freshman year in high school. He, Zoey and Rachel, her mom, lived just a few blocks from my family, so Zoey and I were over each other's houses all the time. They had an in-ground pool where I'd swim during summer weekends. Mr. Sorenson would be there, of course, swimming and tanning himself, looking seriously jacked in his bathing suit (add hard and muscular to the tall, dark and handsome part). He noticed me too; or at least I think he did. But then guys of all ages notice me. Not to brag, but I've been called a brunette Ashley Benson. I'm a couple inches taller; but, like Ashley, I have blue eyes, long, wavy tresses, high cheek bones, a full, sensuous mouth. My bod? Well, I've had no complaints from the guys I've been with. One drawer in my dresser is devoted to outfits from Victoria's Secret, gifts from one former boyfriend who figured that if my plans to become a TV news broadcaster didn't pan out, I could always model for the company. But back to the conversation with Zoey. "I know he's married," I said. "But you can't tell me that a man who looks like that doesn't get hit on once in a while." "I wouldn't know," Zoey said, testily. "But even if he did, he wouldn't stray. He and mom have a rock-solid marriage, committed and devoted. My dad's too moral of a guy for that." "Well, I'm sure your parents are committed and, as you say, you're dad's a moral guy. But I'll bet if the right opportunity came along, if he was approached by the right woman, he'd at least consider her offer, perhaps even take her up on it." "And I'll bet you're wrong." "How much?" "How much what?" "How much are you willing to bet?" "You're serious about this, aren't you?" Zoey said, looking somewhat bemused. "Completely serious. And I doubt I need to mention who that right woman might be." As you might imagine, Zoey was less than comfortable with our bet, the idea of her good friend attempting to seduce her dad. Grudgingly, she went along, if only because the loser had to buy the winner a ticket to see Bruce Springsteen in concert. We both were huge fans of "The Boss," who was coming to our area in the summer. Besides that, she felt supremely confident in her assertion that her dad would never go for it. "He might flirt, that's about it," she said, ending our conversation on the subject. *********************************************** We made that bet late into spring semester of our junior year. Summer was around the corner. Soon, Zoey's pool would be filled and, as in previous summers, I'd be over there, making my bikini-clad presence known, maybe even felt, pardon the pun. But so would Rachel, not to mention Zoey. My challenge was getting her dad alone, no mean feat considering the logistics involved. I figured I'd start at his place of business, Sorenson Motors. Founded by his late dad as a Toyota dealership, Sorenson had grown by leaps and bounds since Grant came onboard as CEO. In addition to Toyotas, Sorenson also sold Hondas, Ford's and Nissans at several locations. Given that my old Jetta was practically shot, I had been looking for a new car anyway, so it seemed like a natural place to launch my "campaign." So, shortly after returning home from school, I paid him a visit. He greeted me warmly in his office, spacious and wood paneled, its walls laden with plaques from the chamber of commerce and Toyota, awards for excellent service and sales. "Hi there, Megan," he said. "How did you make out in school?" He looked great in his summer-weight, blue pinstripe suit, blue button-down dress shirt and yellow tie. I took a seat in front of his desk and crossed my legs, making sure he got an eyeful. He couldn't help it, what with my yellow and white dress hemmed halfway up to Canada. "I pulled a three-five," I said, watching him watching me, trying to be discreet but not succeeding very well. What healthy, virile guy could when face to face with a hot young chick, her legs exposed all the way up to her red thong underwear? He leaned back in his high-back, black leather chair, folded his hands in his lap. "Great. Maybe you'll be anchoring the news in a few years. You've definitely go the credentials, brains as well as beauty." "Thanks, Mr. Sorenson. A broadcast journalism student needs all the compliments she can get. It's a very competitive field." "I imagine it is. So, Zoe tells me you're in the market for another vehicle." I told him generally what I was looking for, including my bottom line. Well, really my parents' bottom line as they were financing most of it. "I think we have just what you're looking for. Those Corollas are great little cars, affordable, economical, comfortable and durable." He chuckled. "Guess you can tell I started out here as a salesman. Speaking of which, let me get one of our sales people to show you what we have." He started to reach for his phone, when I said, "Actually, I was hoping you could be that salesman. I mean, we've been neighbors and friends for over ten years, and I'd feel more comfortable with you given how stressful car buying can be." He tucked his phone away. "Well, okay, if that's what you'd like. It's about time I get away from this desk anyway, brush up on my sales skills gone rusty from neglect." He draped his suit jacket over his chair and walked me out to the used car lot. It was filled with row upon row of shiny cars baking in the hot sun of early June. I opened the top button of my revealing, low-cut white blouse. He glanced at my cleavage, then quickly turned away. "Okay, as you can see," he said, "we've got plenty of these Corollas just begging to be plucked by a young car buyer like yourself." "Any stick shifts? I know they're rare these days, but that's what I've been used to. They're fun to drive. Plus, they're a little better on gas." He rubbed his hands together like a chef about to serve up a sumptuous meal. "I think we can get you a stick. Follow me." We peaked inside several cars before coming to a light blue Corolla, last year's model but essentially new given the car's very low mileage. "There's your stick," he said, a comment, to my dirty, conniving little mind that meant more than just the transmission. The car looked in excellent shape, clean and detailed, not a scratch on it. "You're welcome to take it for a test drive." "Sure, would love to," I said. "But can you go with me? I'd feel more secure that way." He got the keys from his office and, after showing him my driver's license, I let him get in first. Then, with him watching, I hiked up my dress nearly to my hips before getting behind the wheel. And yes, he looked, gawked is more like it, his cute wide-eyed expression conveying a mix of delight and shame. The AC worked great, cooled the car within seconds after I slipped on my sunglasses and drove off the lot and on to a busy secondary road, two lanes in both directions flanked by fast food joints, strip malls and other car dealerships. "You sure do know how to work that stick, Megan," he said. "Many young drivers today can't." Holy metaphor! I thought, trying not to laugh. "Well, like I said, I'm experienced when it comes to stick shifts." I noticed him shifting his eyes from the road to my legs and cleavage as we made small talk, running the gamut from the finer points of the Corolla to my plans for the summer. He obviously liked what he saw. Now it was time to escalate the process, to do or say something that might move me closer to collecting on my bet. But how to do that was the question. Subtlety was never my strong suit. On the other hand, I was hardly brazen enough to come right out and ask if he wanted to fuck me. Here I was in the driver's seat, so to speak, but wasn't sure which road would lead me to my destination. Then he said: "I hope you'll be over the house soon. Our pool is just about filled." "Looking forward to it. I need to get some sun on these white legs, don't you think?" "Um, yes, I can see that," he said, taking a long, gratifying look, as if my invite gave him carte blanche to do so. "The health risks aside, we all look better tanned." "Yes, including middle-aged CEOs of car dealerships with bodies a guy MY age would be proud of." He smiled and shuffled his feet. "Come now, you wouldn't be referring to me, would you?" he said in faux surprise. "Actually, Mr. Sorenson, I am. You're the only one I know who fits that description. You obviously take good care of yourself, and it shows." "Well, thanks for the compliment. You know, sometimes I feel ancient next to millennials like you and Zoe." "Oh please. You look far from ancient," I countered, stopping at a traffic light. "My ex-boyfriend should look as good as you in a swim suit." Waiting for the light to change, I felt a jolt of excitement, a sense that something was there that hadn't been up to that moment. He sort of confirmed it when he asked me to call him Grant after we returned to his office to negotiate price. "Better let me ring up your dad first," he said after I quoted my parents' bottom line. Once confirmed, he agreed to go even lower—and that didn't even include the great trade-in he gave me for the Jetta. "After all," he said to my dad on the phone, "you, your wife Emily and your beautiful daughter here have been our good friends and neighbors for years." Then it was time to drive off in my shiny, practically new Corolla. "Hope you enjoy your car," he said, opening the car door for me. "See you at our pool. Soon, I hope. You don't want those fine legs of yours to stay white for long." I was just inches from him, gazing into his dark brown eyes and breathing in his natural masculine scent mixed with his cologne, Polo Blue if my olfactory memory served me right. I thanked him for everything, then reached out to hug him goodbye. When he hugged me back, I pressed myself against him, feeling the hard, muscular contours of his youthful body and something else—and I don't mean his wallet. Had this been a casual farewell hug, we would have decoupled after a few seconds. But neither of us did. Nor would he have dropped his hand to my butt, squeezed it, then ran his fingers along the back of my thigh and said, "You've got incredibly smooth skin." Then his sense of decorum kicked in. "Oh my, what am I doing here? Sorry, Megan, I got a little carried away. Selling a car to my daughter's best friend shouldn't include feeling her up in the parking lot." I eased myself on to the driver's seat and looked up at him. "Okay, then maybe you can feel me up some place else. Then I'll return the favor. You've already seen what I can do with a stick." He backed away, laughed nervously. "Look, let's not get ourselves in trouble, shall we? Forget this even happened. Enjoy your car and good luck with that summer intern job." He then glanced at his watch. "Meanwhile, its back to the salt mines. See ya." Excitedly, I called Zoey an hour later, telling her about my purchase and the little escapade that followed. At first she didn't believe it, more a case of not wanting to until I convinced her otherwise. "He was just flirting with you is all," she said. "He can be a flirt at times." But the wary tone in her voice suggested that she sensed something more, something that would cause her family pain. I then offered to call off our bet. Grant Sorenson turned me on, for sure, got me fantasizing about being alone with him in some out of the way hotel room. And I still looked forward to seeing The Boss on Zoey's dime. But I wasn't sure it was worth the strain on our friendship or causing the breakup of a marriage, and I told her so. "Well, you did say he backed off, told you to forget what happened, right?" Zoey responded. "Right." "Which means I won our bet because dad put the brakes on." "Not exactly," I said, suddenly feeling challenged. "We both know that men think with their dicks, including disciplined guys like your dad. The bulge I felt in your dad's embrace left no doubt that I ruffle his gonads, that he just might release those brakes under different circumstances. So, our bet's still on unless you tell me to drop it." "Oh my god, Megan!" Zoey exclaimed. "As perverted and disturbing as this sounds, I'm getting aroused picturing you and my dad going at it on that parking lot." She took a deep breath. Then: "Okay, let's do this. Let's put a time limit on it. If it goes no further, if you haven't slept with him by the end of this month, then its game over. You buy the concert tickets and that will be that." It sounded fair to me. Had Zoey not been my good friend and roommate, I might have asked for more time. But she was and my feelings were mixed. Winning promised incredible erotic fireworks, yet it came with potentially negative consequences. Losing would simply mean paying for an extra concert ticket. Then it hit me, the realization that us women also think with our sex organs, our clits, our pussies, our boobs and, the most potent sex organ of all for us and men both—our brains, though the irrational side of our brains. And my brain was telling me to proceed with all deliberate speed. How to proceed was the question. I already had my car, so there was no reason to drop by Sorenson Motors. Call him? No, that wouldn't work either, not unless I threw subtlety out the window altogether: "Hi Grant. It's Megan. Wanna fuck?" I didn't think he'd go for a crude approach like that. So I settled on what he himself suggested, a weekend pool visit wearing the skimpiest swim attire I could dig up without being arrested for indecent exposure. Yes, there'd be people around; but I figured my appearance might ramp up his appetite for me, make him rethink his advice to avoid "trouble." So, on the second Sunday in June, dressed in shorts, sandals and a halter top and carrying my swim wear in a bag slung over my shoulder, I walked over to the Sorenson's. It was a great day to step into liquid, sunny, hot and humid. Like most families in this upper middleclass neighborhood, they had a big house and enough ground to accommodate a decent sized pool. Theirs was kidney shaped and bordered by wide margins of grass with two flagstone patios at each end. Zoey met me at the front door. "Dad and Rachel are already in back. We can change in my room." And so we did—me into something on the fringe of public decency; and Zoey into a white bikini that complemented her firm, petit body. Nobody would mistake us for sisters. Zoey stood about five-two to my five-seven, had short, dirty blond hair to my long brown tresses. I had boobs where she had boobies, a disparity that she planned to one day fix with implants. And with her turned-up nose and small mouth, her features weren't as strong. A classic beauty she wasn't. Rather, she was more the ideal poster girl for the generic aesthetic of "cute." "Damn, girl, you might as well go out there in your birthday suit," Zoey said. I couldn't argue, not with my boobs hanging out and my pussy barely covered by my orange thong. "Call it being proactive. Our bet is still on and I'm under deadline." I twirled around a few times, cupping my boobs and smacking my bare butt. "You think he'll notice?" "No, not at all," Zoey said, matching sarcasm with sarcasm. After putting my hair up and slapping on some number six Coppertone, I followed Zoey out to the patio. Heather, her younger sister, was lounging on an inflatable raft in the deep end, while Grant and Rachel relaxed on chaise lounges. Grant, with his wet body and black hair slicked back, looked as if he had just taken a dip. Rachel, in an orange one-piece and broad brimmed straw hat, looked up from her book and said, "Well, if it's not the future broadcaster." "And proud, new Corolla owner," Grant said, giving me a wink. "How do you like the car so far?" "What's not to like?" I said, watching his eyes flit over my body. "I especially like the easy way it shifts. It's fun working that stick." "Yes, I'm sure it is," he said. Wearing a strained smile, he glanced over at Rachel as if to check if she picked up on the double entendre. "Megan and I have matching colored suits," Rachel said. "Did you notice, dear? Grant, did you notice?" "Huh? Ah, yes, I noticed, I noticed. Only Megan's looks like the dog ate half of it." "If not more," Rachel said laughing. "Hi Megan," Heather said, waving at me from the pool. In looks, fifteen year old Heather favored her dad more than her mom. Like him, she was tall, and her dark brown hair, in subdued lighting, could be mistaken for black. "Come on in, the water's great." Zoey and I threw our towels on adjoining lounges and plunged in. We splashed around for a few minutes, then held on to the sides of the pool, immersed up to our shoulders. Rachel had returned to her book, while Grant lay on his stomach, his broad back soaking up ultraviolet. He rested his chin on his hands, stealing glances of me across the pool. Heather rolled off her raft, dove under and breast-stroked across to the shallow end. Then she hopped out and plopped down on a chair by the pool, leaving Zoey and I alone. "You're dad is giving me lustful looks, checking out my boobs," I whispered in Zoey's ear. "In case you haven't noticed." "Oh, come on, Megan, what guy doesn't check out your boobs? But my feeling is, despite what happened at the dealership, you'll be paying for two concert tickets." I nodded, thinking she might be right. Suddenly I was feeling less confident. Back at Sorenson Motors, I had made my desires known. And so did Grant if what I felt when he started fondling me was any indication. But then he backed off. So at this point, as far as I was concerned, the ball was in his court. I could leave it there, wait for him to make a move, or make one myself, become aggressive. I mulled over the possibilities while sunning myself on one of the chaise lounges, listening to tunes on my iPad. I had deliberately grabbed a chaise next to Grant. Zoey and Rachel lounged on the two ends, while Heather had gone in to take a shower. Still buried in her book, Rachel didn't notice Grant checking me out, feeling me up with his eyes. Zoey did. Uncomfortable with it at first, it began to amuse her. We'd roll our eyes and chuckle at her dad's awkward attempts to be discreet. I couldn't help but wonder if he spent most of the time on his stomach, his head turned, eyeing me from the side, to hide something he didn't want any of us to see. Because I was wet already from the water, I didn't have to hide my own potential source of embarrassment—the juices oozing from my hot pussy as I pictured Grant's dark, muscular body on top of me, doing me by the pool. At that moment, it was less about free concert tickets and more about pure lust, being made love to by this hunky generation Xer, kissing me, sucking on my boobs, licking my clit, wowing me with his wonderful rod, stiff, long and enduring. The Bet The sound of Rachel's voice intruded into my fantasy. "Well, I'm going to call it a day," she said. She then closed her book and went inside. Grant said he'd be in after one more dip, asked us if we'd like to join him. Zoey declined, said she'd had enough, too. When Grant dived under water, Zoey turned to me and joked, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." "No chance of that here," I said. Soon, I was standing with Grant on the side of the pool where Zoey and I had talked about an hour ago. He made a few comments about the car, then joked about my suit not leaving much to the imagination. "Is that your standard beach attire or did you wear it today for my benefit?" His head moved back and forth like he was watching a tennis match, flitting from me to the back windows. Me, I didn't really care who was watching. "Actually, it WAS for your benefit," I said. "And I hope the results are worth it." I told him I was between relationships when he asked if I had a boyfriend. "But even if I did," I added, "I've had a crush on you since high school." He looked down, shook his head. "Really? Well, I kind of had a feeling, but wasn't about to ask you to confirm it. Look, Megan, you're a very attractive young lady. And if I was a few years younger, not married, yadda, yadda, yadda...well, you get the drill." I nodded, let a few seconds pass, debating whether to ask him a very personal question, one I knew was none of my damn business but couldn't resist asking. "Mr. Sorenson—" "It's Grant, remember? At least when we're alone." "Grant. Right. Okay, Grant, did you ever cheat on Rachel, have an affair? You don't have to answer if—" "No, that's okay. Actually—" Suddenly the back door opened and Zoey, changed into casual summer clothes, called out to me from the wooden deck. "Listen, Megan, my mom wants to know if you'd like to stay for dinner. Say yes because there's plenty here." "Sure, I'd love to," I said, looking at Grant who nodded his approval. "To be continued," he whispered. Then we went inside to change. Swim time was over. *********************************************** Dinner was uneventful. I returned home all but convinced that Zoey would collect on our bet. No big loss. I'd still get to see The Boss while avoiding the inherent pitfalls that sleeping with Grant could entail. Not that I was exactly content with that. Just thinking about him could send my erogenous zones through the roof, got me touching myself to climax. And I still wanted to know if he had ever been unfaithful to Rachel. Finally, compelled by what I considered unfinished business, I headed over to Sorenson Motors one day after work. It was close to five and Grant was just leaving when I showed up at his office door in high heels and a light green summer business suit. "Well, what a pleasant surprise," he said. He then lowered his eyes. "I see you've got a little color in those pretty legs of yours." I looked both ways. Then, seeing no one in proximity, I started to raise my skirt. "They're yours for the taking. And a lot more, too." Grant, halfway into the hall, ushered me into his office and shut the door. "Have a seat, Meagan," he ordered. "I think we need to talk." He sat behind his desk, slipped off his searsucker sports jacket and loosened his tie. "You wanted to know if I ever had an affair." I nodded. "Yes, I did, with one of my customers, and the only reason I'm telling you is because it's no secret, at least to Rachel. She found out about it and almost divorced me. After a ton of mea culpas, I'm sorrys and months of marriage counseling, she forgave. Didn't forget but forgave. To her everlasting credit, as bitter as she was, she kept it from Heather and Zoe. I've never strayed since, was never even tempted to. That is, until now." He paused, then continued. "Of course, I'm conflicted, hobbled by moral constraints to resist your advances while tempted by what tempts so many basically moral men with a huge libido and a sometimes irrepressible urge to taste forbidden fruit. Two voices cry out to me. On says this is wrong, don't do it. The other says go for it, you only live once." After a few seconds of silence, I said, "Which voice cries out to you the loudest?" A mischievous smile creased his lips. Without answering, he got up and drew the curtains across his glass door. Then he took my hand, pulled me to him and began kissing me. After lifting my skirt, he dug his hands inside my panties and fondled my butt. "I guess this answers my question," I said. "Yes, I guess it does." He slipped his tie and shirt off, while I followed suit with blouse and bra. "Now you can suck on the boobs you feasted your eyes on at the pool," I said. He bent down and did just that, sucking on my nipples as I stood by his desk. Then he lifted me on top the desk, pulled my panties down and got on his knees. Still in high heels, I draped my legs over his shoulders while he went to work on my pussy and clit, stabbing his tongue every which way to Sunday. I'd heard stories about girls blacking out when they climaxed. It had never happened to me until then. He made it happen. I know, because the next thing I remember, I was on the floor with nothing on but my skirt pulled up to my waist. Looking up, I saw him standing over me, his cock ready and willing. Somehow, I had the presence of mind to request topside. After straddling him, I began humping away, slowly at first, then faster as he played with my boobs and thrust his pelvis up and into me. After a few minutes of this, I assumed the position HE requested, laying across his desk as he stood up and fucked me. Any moral qualms I once had—and like him, I had them—collapsed under the weight of my carnal ambition. In the throes of our lust, we were of the same mind, hedonistic and selfish, getting what we wanted how we wanted it, tossing propriety out the window like a used dish rag. I climaxed again right on top his desk, staying conscious this time. I heard him shriek seconds later, then felt the rush of hot cum shooting into me. He helped me off the desk, held me tight, and then kissed me with a passion that was somehow missing when we started. "You're incredible," he said. "Right back at you," I said. "That tongue of yours...Did you ever make Rachel pass out like I did?" He laughed. "No, you're the first. I guess that's a measure of how hungry we were for each other." I nodded, reached down and stroked my pussy, still wet with cum. Then it hit me: I wasn't on the pill and he wasn't wearing anything. As if reading my mind, he said, "Don't worry, I've had a vasectomy." We dressed, then walked outside into the warm, early June evening. "Listen, Megan," he said, walking me to my car, "I'm very flattered that you find me so desirable. Any man my age hit on by a beautiful young woman would be. But, is there anything more to this, something I don't know about?" My stomach fluttered. "Like what?" "I don't know. It's just a gut feeling, probably nothing to it. Just thought I'd ask." I shouldn't have hesitated, should have laughed off his "gut feeling." But I didn't. I must have looked guilty as hell because he then said, "There's something else going on here, isn't there? What gives?" I broke down, told him all about the bet I made with Zoey. I couldn't bring myself to tell him what else she said, about the rock-solid marriage that Zoey insisted he had with Rachel, about his being too moral of a guy to ever cheat on her. He looked incredulous, if not insulted. "You mean what just happened is tied to Zoey footing the bill for concert tickets?!" "Hardly," I insisted. "What just happened was the consummation of a crush I've had since high school. The concert was merely the catalyst." "Fine. Meanwhile, I had better find a good divorce lawyer, cause' I'm gonna need one." "Save your money. What we did will go no further than this parking lot. What happens at Sorenson Motors, stays at Sorenson Motors." He didn't laugh. "Not if you want to collect on your bet, it doesn't. You'll tell Zoe, and Zoe, knowing her, will duly inform my soon to be ex-wife." I touched his face and kissed him, assured him that Zoey would get an entirely different narrative, one that would earn her a free ticket to see The Boss perform. "Only this is it, Grant—I mean Mr. Sorenson—because that's what you'll be to me from now on. Any more of this and you WILL need that divorce lawyer." June passed and with it my deadline to seduce Grant Sorenson. Zoey got her ticket. The concert was great as I knew it would be—The Boss is an electrifying performer on stage. Throughout the summer, I continued to use the Sorenson's pool, laughing with Zoey whenever we caught her dad giving me the lustful eye. "My dad, such a flirt," she'd say. "Sometimes I don't know how he manages to keep his thing in his pants. For all but my mom, that is." The Bet It was a beautiful fall Saturday morning and Sam was out doing what he normally did on the nicer weekend days while he was at college. Well, he was doing what he did if he wasn't at his normal job. He was making his way from place to place, first on Frat row, then touring the local student bars. Hell, no, he wasn't drinking. It was nine in the morning. He was out trying to earn another few dollars to put in his college fund. He stopped his little Ranger pickup in the alley behind the first Frat house on his route. He looked around the yard and smiled. The yard was covered with empty bottles, cans and plastic cups. Looks like I'm in luck, he thought. At least this Frat had a nice party last night from the looks of things. He hoped the rest of his stops were as messy as this one. If they were, he would have a more profitable day than normal. Sam grabbed a couple of large black trash bags and bailed out of his truck. He quickly walked into the yard and bent to begin picking up all the empty aluminum cans. Well, he stepped on them first to flatten them so more would fit into the trash bags that way. After cleaning up the cans in the yard he checked out the trash barrels. BINGO once again! The barrels were loaded with empties. By the time he finished this house he had three large 55 gallon trash bags of smashed aluminum cans. Sam made his way from stop to stop, frat house to frat house collecting cans as he went. After making his normal stops on campus and some of the party houses just off campus Sam went on to the student bars. He almost had his little Ranger's bed filled with bagged cans even with the cab high racks he built for it. He hit the first bar and found four more bags worth of cans even after he smashed them. Off to the second bar on his route. What the hell??? There were almost no aluminum cans in the dumpster. Had the bar owner began saving them himself? He only found about a quarter of a bag and most of those cans were filled with cigarette butts or other junk so he couldn't use them. Oh, well, on to the next bar. Crap. This dumpster was almost empty also. Sam moved on. Shit. When he got to the next bar he saw a small body bobbing up and down in the dumpster, throwing cans out of the dumpster into the parking lot. Soon a young woman climbed out of the dumpster and walked around smashing cans then she put them into bags. After the bags were full, she stuffed them into an older car. The trunk was already full of bags full of cans and she was filling the back seat now. Sam drove up beside her car and rolled his window down to watch her work. She looked up at him guiltily, almost as if she was scared, but continued working on the cans. Sam just watched. After she finished loading her cans she glanced at Sam once again then drove off and turned into the next bar parking lot. She immediately jumped from her car and once again dove into the dumpster. Sam followed her into the lot and stopped once again. This time he could see the fear on her face. He got out of his truck and she stopped to watch him warily. Sam looked into her car then turned his attention to her once more. He took a deep breath and said, "So, you're the one that's been taking my cans out of the dumpsters. I thought the first bar owner had began saving them himself. Then when I got to the second one and found those cans gone also I began to wonder. You've been hitting the dumpsters off and on all semester haven't you? I've noticed sometimes there are very few cans in them when I check them." "What do you mean your cans? I've been getting the cans from the dumpsters now for almost six months. How do you get off saying they're yours? They're just going to the dump if I don't take them and sell them." "I suppose you're right as far as it goes. I guess they're anybodies cans if they get to them first, but I've been picking them up now since I started college almost two years ago. I sell them and use the money to help live on and pay tuition. I only usually hit the dumpsters Saturday and Sunday mornings though, because I work most evenings and Saturday afternoons." "Oh. Well, I've been doing the same since I transferred here this fall from a community college. I got a partial scholarship and I work most Saturdays and part time during the week at the book store. I can make $40 or $50 dollars a week if I hit the dumpsters Saturday and Sunday. I bet you're why I don't find many cans some days aren't you?" "Yeah, probably. I'm a little later today than I usually am so you beat me to it today." Sam looked over at the girl's car and said, "You're making a mess in your car with all the leaking cans. Don't you have something to at least cover the seats? I can hardly stand the stale beer smell coming from my truck bed. How do you manage to drive with the cans inside? And aren't you afraid of getting stopped and getting a ticket for all those open containers?" "They wouldn't. They couldn't could they?" "Yeah, they would and they could. I know a woman back home that was doing just what you are. Well, maybe not just what you are. She had her back seat filled with bags of empty beer cans and got stopped at a sobriety check point. They wrote her up and she got a hellacious fine out of it. The Judge said the law had no qualifier to excuse garbage bags full of cans. It was plainly written that ANY open alcohol container in the passenger compartment was a violation of the open container law." "You're just bullshitting me. Aren't you?" "Nope. Sorry. So, you go to college here, too, huh? What's your name? I'm Sam Donovan." "Traci Samuels. Yeah, I'm starting my Junior year. I transferred in from a community college near my home when I got a partial scholarship, like I said a few minutes ago." "Well, it looks like we're going to be in competition for the cans now. I guess I'm going to have to get up a lot earlier to beat you out of them aren't I?" Traci looked scared when Sam said that. She said, "Oh, please, don't do that. I really need the money I get for the cans. Maybe we can work something out like I get so many bars and you get so many, or something." Sam stood and looked around for a moment. Hell, he never managed to pick up all the cans. He usually just hit the most popular bars where he knew he could make a big hit pretty fast and get back home. He could work all weekend and not get all the cans from all the bars. He said, "We could do something like that or we could work together. I never manage to hit all the bars before I have to quit and clean up to go to work. You can't get many cans in that car even if you use the back seat like you are. I have a small trailer I built with a rack on it also. We can work the best spots together and fill the truck and trailer then split 50/50 after we pay for my fuel if you want. Hell, it would be sort of nice to have someone to work with and talk to. I get tired of climbing in and out of the dumpsters all the time also. We could split that work." The two students made an agreement to work together. To their surprise each of them had a couple of places that yielded very well indeed. They usually made around $75.00 each per weekend working cans together. While they worked together they found they became very good friends. They even occasionally studied together. They worked together throughout that fall semester and agreed to do the same during the spring semester after they returned to college after Christmas break. During spring semester Sam and Traci managed to take three classes together also. They took Sociology, English Composition, and Business Statistics together. They were from similar backgrounds and found themselves drawn together more and more. They both grew up in the country on small farms. Traci's mother worked in town to supplement the family income. Sam's father worked in town and picked up odd jobs on the side. His mother worked on the farm raising broiler chickens in two older houses. Of course his father helped when he wasn't doing other jobs. Traci was working on a degree in Communications. She wanted to be an agricultural reporter. Sam was planning on a degree in Farm Management and Marketing. Sam and Traci found they became very good friends while working together. Unfortunately, Sam's girlfriend didn't get on well with Traci at all. She mistrusted Traci and complained to Sam constantly about him working and studying with her. Several times during the first weeks of spring semester Sam or Traci caught Barbara watching them as they picked up cans or studied. She and her friends could almost be accused of stalking. Barbara was also embarrassed by Sam's dumpster diving and tried regularly to make him stop. Traci and Sam were in the Library the last Sunday afternoon in early February when she once again saw Barbara hiding on the other side of the room glaring at them. She was surrounded by two of her friends. They made comments to each other then would glare at Sam and Traci once again. Traci nudged Sam and said, "Sam, she's at it again. I think we need to stop studying together or something before she explodes. I don't want to be the reason you two break up." Sam sighed and said, "Traci you won't be. We've been sort of off more than we were on this whole year. I only saw her a few times last summer and I usually only have one date a week here. Most of the times I saw her this summer I got the third degree and got some weird vibes from her. Now that we're back here at college I'm getting more of the same. She's very controlling and has no trust of me at all. "I'm just about fed up with her accusations about us, too. Hell, we both know she and her friends follow us around trying to catch us cheating on her. I have a friend that swears when one member of a couple accuses the other of cheating over and over like she is me that the accuser is probably the one cheating. I'm really starting to wonder if she isn't looking for a reason to break up and make it my fault. I'm almost to the point I just don't care. I almost hope she does break up with me. I've been thinking about dumping her to tell you the truth. I can't even remember why I started dating her to begin with now." On the second Sunday in February the fecal matter hit the proverbial rotary impeller device. Barbara followed Sam and Traci into the library for their now regular Sunday study session. She stormed up to them and hissed, "I finally caught you cheating you two-timing asshole. I knew you two were cheating even if you did deny it. Well, we have pictures of you cheating now, asshole. What do you have to say for yourself?" Sam and Traci looked up at the furious Barbara in shock. Sam said, "Barb, you know that's pure bullshit. I've never cheated on you. Can you say the same to me? I don't know what you've been smoking, but you can't have pictures of something that's never happened. You know what? I just don't care anymore. I don't need your shit. We're through. I don't ever want to see or talk to you again. Now get out of here so we can get our studying done." "Yeah, right, asshole. We're history, but it's your fault, not mine. And I do have proof of you cheating. I have some of those pictures you say can't exist. See." Barbara threw two pictures printed on regular paper down on the table in front of Sam and Traci and stormed off. As she was leaving she hissed, "And I've told you over and over, my name is Barbara, not Barb or Barbie. I'm not some doll you play with." Sam picked up the pictures and looked at them thoughtfully. He frowned then said, "OH, crap, of all the dumb shit. Look. They have a picture of us yesterday on Frat row. Remember we sneaked onto the porch to empty the trash can and we thought we were going to get caught? We ran off the porch and across the back yard. Just before we got to the truck you ran into me. When you pushed me I lost my balance and fell backward to lean against the truck and I grabbed you to try and keep my balance. I pulled you against me. Look. It does sort of look as if we were kissing doesn't it? "Hell, she never even asked about it did she? She just jumped to a conclusion and exploded. To get this picture whoever took it had to have been there for a while. They couldn't have seen us in time to get their phone or camera ready to take this. They had to have known what really happened. Besides, we weren't parked more than three feet from the gate through the back hedge. This just had to be a complete set up. Screw it, we know we're innocent and if this is all she has to base her accusations on I don't need her ass in my life. She made it pretty plain she has no intentions of moving back to the farm when I graduate anyway so we were probably toast before long even if this hadn't come up. I am definitely not going to live in town and work nine to five all my life." Traci placed her hand on Sam's forearm and gave him a weak smile. She said, "Well, I am sorry, Sam. No better than I know Barbara, though, I do think you're going to be much better off without her. Oh, well, I suppose we had better finish up on this Sociology paper if you still feel like working on it." "Yeah, I think I can get back into the groove. We need to get it done anyway. We have to turn it in when class begins Monday morning." Most of Sam's and Traci's class work was very easy for them. They were sailing through the courses and enjoying the classes very much. They both thought Sociology was sort of ridiculous but even then they could sort of see why knowledge of the discipline could be beneficial. That class gave them the most trouble, however, because of the discussions and opinionated students in it. Many days they both left class upset because of the ignorant opinions expressed during the class period. As soon as Sociology class convened Monday the instructor collected the papers due. She immediately began her prepared lecture but before long she knew she was in trouble. Today's discussion was a doozy. The professor constantly had to restore order as the discussion she initiated took on a life of its own. When she initiated the discussion it was to make the point that poor people had little choice in life and needed the help of those more well to do in order to not only survive but to prosper. She hoped to show that the two separate group-the poor and those who were better off-needed to pull together, understand their group dynamics, and build a better life for all. Never had she encountered one, much less two people in her classes that took such a vehement opposition to her statements. Of course, the other two students that immediately jumped on her dissenters didn't help much. Fenton Richards was the son of wealth and he made sure everyone knew it. Terrance Sanders was just the opposite. He was from an obviously very poor background. In fact, she didn't know how he even made it into college but he was there and for some reason he and Fenton were a team. Most of the discord in class came from them. Paula once again tried to regain control of the discussion with no success. Finally she just gave up and listened to the statements flying back and forth. Sam said, "Bullshit. I don't care who you are or what your socioeconomic background is you can begin life with nothing and become very well to do if you are willing to work and defer your wants into the future. All that is needed is someone to give you a chance. We don't need more government programs. We don't need more handouts. Anyone in this country can obtain a good education and leave college nearly debt free if they are willing to work for it and if they don't spend extravagantly. With a good education, hard work, honesty, and good ethics you can succeed." Fenton sneered and went on the attack, getting his statement in before Terrance. Fenton said, "That's a crock and you know it. Almost no one in today's economy can get by without help and handouts. That's all the balance of Americans want any more is a free ride. You can't convince me that anyone is willing or able to get by without more money from the government. Every time something goes wrong the drones ask, what's the Government going to do about it? Well, I, for one, am tired of seeing money wasted on people who will never amount to anything and refuse to help themselves." Terrance jumped into the fray saying, "Well, the working people, the lower income people, deserve it. All you rich assholes pay the help low wages and overcharge on everything you sell. A working man or woman has no chance to get ahead without more government help." Traci and Sam tried to speak at the same time. Sam looked at Traci and motioned for her to continue. She said, "That's a crock and you know it. My parents only have a high school education. They started out when they married at age 18 with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a few mostly used wedding gifts. Dad began working for minimum wage and mom worked for two dollars an hour and tips as a waitress for three years. They saved their money until they could rent a farm to work. They have worked together for thirty years and own their own farm and drive newer vehicles. It can be done if a person, or a couple, is willing to work hard and make the hard decisions and sacrifices. This is my third year in college and so far I am attending school full time and have no student loans. It can be done if you are willing to work and plan." Sam looked at Traci and smiled then said, "Absolutely. There is any number of jobs out there and numerous ways to make a few dollars IF the person is willing to do it. And they are LEGAL too, not some shady job or pushing drugs or stealing." Fenton stood and glared at Sam and Traci then said, "Yeah, right. I'm sure you would stoop to doing some of the work we have to import Mexicans to do. There is no way you would live like you would have to live to get by without another government handout that comes from taxing the people willing to work and provide employment for slackers like you." Paula sighed. She could sort of understand Sam's, Traci's and Terrance's position but she just couldn't figure Fenton out. She was pretty sure he was only arguing because he liked to stir up trouble. He was well to do and should be against government programs and taxation to support lower income people yet he argued that government programs were the only way people in the lower classes could get by. Of course he made his statements in a disparaging manner as if he didn't approve. Perhaps he was arguing as he was because he didn't approve and was angry about the handouts. Perhaps he was one of the benevolent rich and actually felt as if they owed help to those less fortunate. She chose to believe that, to give him credit for being kind and thoughtful. The discussion continued until finally Fenton stood and said, "I'm sick of your damn statements. If you really believe what you say, put your money where your mouth is. I'll make a bet with you to prove you're wrong." Sam looked up at the looming Fenton and almost snarled, "Oh, yeah, how're you going to do that?" "My family owns an old abandoned farm down in the sticks. I'll bet you that farm against all the money and property you own now or obtain during the course of the bet that you can't succeed alone with no help from our great society. You have to make your way in life with no help and no full time job. Running the farm will be your full time job. You can take part time jobs off the farm but you have to live on it and make your own way for the next four years or until you make a yearly income that is at least twice the U.S. poverty level income, whichever comes first." "That's not what I was arguing about here. I said there was always a way for an individual to make more money than they had and to better themselves in our country without government help. There is always another way to pick up some honest income if a person is willing to do it." The Bet Fenton laughed and smirked as he looked around the classroom then replied, "Yeah, that's what I thought. You're taking back your statements now and trying to welsh. If you truly believe that you can make your living easily by doing several of those jobs and picking up the extra income you wouldn't think twice about taking this bet." Traci looked up at Fenton and said, "No, he's not. You're purposefully trying to muddy the waters. What you are saying can be done, though. A person or couple can not only survive but they can prosper if they are willing to work and save instead of spend money foolishly for immediate gratification." Fenton laughed and said, "I always thought you were as stupid as he is. Why don't you join him in the bet if you're so sure it can be done?" "You know, I think I will. It'll be fun sticking it to you." "Fine. I'll have my attorney write up the agreement and we'll sign it after our next class meeting." "Whoa, there stud. We'll look it over and have OUR attorney review it first THEN we'll sign it IF it contains every point we have discussed here today. Now, tell us more about this farm you want us to live on for the next four years. We also need to know what we are allowed to bring with us in case we take your bet." Fenton sneered once again and said, "You can bring anything you own and use any money you currently have in the bank or in cash. That's all. You will not accept any handouts, government or private assistance, free food, medical care, or unpaid help from any source to live. You must pay your own way completely, accepting no federal or state assistance or assistance from any private source or individual." The next two class periods all resulted in another confrontation with Fenton. After the class Friday Sam and Traci walked from the room and building together. She said, "I'm really getting tired of his crap. We only have one more lecture today since Jones cancelled her class. It's Valentine's Day today besides. I think we need to do something to unwind a little tonight. You up for it?" "Heck, I suppose. Since Barb bailed on me I don't have a date. What about you though? You can't convince me you don't have a date for Valentines." "Nope. You know I don't have a steady and I guess no one wanted to ask me out in case I got the wrong idea. I don't want to sit home alone either. Both my roommates have big dates and it would be pretty depressing to watch them. I'm really not looking forward to them coming home later tonight, either. I just hope if they do come home they come alone. The last thing I need to do is listen to love making all night long. Come on, let's go out for a while." "Hell, why not. I'll pick you up say about six?" "I don't care. You can come earlier if you want. What are we going to do?" "I don't know. You asked. You have anything you want to do?" "No. Let's just get a bite to eat and hit one of the hang outs." Sam and Traci both enjoyed seafood so he decided they would go to Red Lobster for supper then move on to one of the student bars near campus. Maybe they would see some of their friends there. The food was good at the Lobster but the visit itself was depressing. It seemed as if the place was filled with couples celebrating Valentine's Day. When they decided to leave there was a short but heated discussion when it came time to pay the bill. Traci insisted on paying for her own meal and drinks and Sam didn't want her to do so. Finally he gave in and let her pay half the bill and they left. As they were leaving the restaurant Sam felt Traci grab his arm tightly and begin moving faster toward his truck. He turned his head toward her in surprise and saw her glaring at a BMW nearby. She quickly turned her head away from the vehicle and pulled him rapidly toward his truck. Just as Sam started to turn his head away from the car he saw what Traci didn't want him to see. Barbara was sitting in the car kissing a young man. Her hair was mussed and the man's hand was down the top of her low cut dress. Sam knew from experience she wasn't wearing a bra because the dress wouldn't allow one. As they walked past the car Sam saw Barbara's nipple. Knowing Barbara as well as he did he was sure this wasn't her first or even her second date with the man. At least when they began going out it took him almost two months to cop a feel and he had never done so in a parking lot. When they got to his truck Traci looked at Sam. Somehow she knew he saw Barbara. She wrapped her arms around him and said, "I'm sorry, Sam. You saw didn't you? Are you ok?" Sam gave Traci a quick hug and smiled. He said, "Yeah, I'm fine. You know it really didn't bother me at all. I've seen her a time or two on campus with one boy or another even before she dumped me and I just don't feel anything at all. I mean, I know we used to date and I had some feelings for her, but even then I didn't think we were in love. I had my doubts you know? Tonight all I saw was a skank playing around in a car, you know?" Traci smiled and tightened her hug briefly before letting him go. "Good. That's exactly what you saw, Sam. I know you and I know a little about her. You are a good man and you can do a damn sight better. You deserve better too. Now come on. Let's see if we can find some of the gang somewhere." Sam and Traci both got just a little plastered that night. He was smart enough to choose a hang out near his apartment so he left his truck in the parking lot and he and Traci walked, well, really, they staggered back to his place when the bar closed. Sam offered to call a cab for Traci but she refused. "No, Sam, I really don't want to listen to the lovers banging away at my place. Can I just crash on your couch? Please?" "Yeah, no prob, Trace." Saturday morning they got a later than normal start picking up cans. They took a quick shower, then hit Denny's for a good breakfast before starting work. Sam looked at Traci while they were picking up cans on Frat row and said, "You know, you're dangerous. I haven't been drunk like that since I graduated from high school. You are evil to lead me to drink, woman." Traci laughed her trademarked musical laugh and hip butted him and smiled. "I don't remember having to force even one of your many drinks down your throat, Stud. You done that all by yourself. But I do know ONE of us is dangerous. SOMEONE led poor little ol' innocent me down the path of Bacchanalian excess." "I think we need to agree to disagree on this one. Maybe we led each other down the path. Anyway, Trace, I had fun even if this morning wasn't so much. I'm glad you talked me into going out." The two friends completed their mornings work and went their separate ways for the remainder of the weekend. It took two more weeks but finally they ironed out a contract all parties could live with for what was now being called "The Bet" by the students and faculty on campus who heard about it. After class one day Sam and Traci met Fenton at his attorney's office and they signed the contract with Fenton. It was written into the contract that the couple could use anything found on the old farm in any manner they wished. They were allowed to utilize the farm as if it was theirs exclusively and to sell anything found or raised on the property as if it was solely their property. Items found on the property and sold were specifically excluded from going against the contract as free items or help from others so selling them would not cause Sam and Traci to lose their bet. They also were allowed to bring any personal possession they owned with them when they moved to the farm and use them as they saw fit. They did negotiate and write into the contract that they only had to make taxable income equal to twice the Federal Poverty level for a couple (which was $15,730 for 2014) for two consecutive years or live successfully on the land per the contract specifications for a period of four years. The contract further stated the land and any improvements or other property owned by Fenton and or his family that was on the land as of the day of signing the contract became the property of Sam and Traci if they successfully fulfilled the contract. Since she lost control of the discussion Paula decided to use it and the ensuing bet as a teaching tool and as the basis for a paper she would write for a professional journal after the bet was over. After they signed the contract Traci looked at Sam and said, "Well, now comes the hard part of this mess." "Well, yeah, I suppose it will be sort of difficult but it won't be as bad as you think. I mean, look how much we made just picking up cans here in town. We have a whole farm to use for income plus whatever we can pick up elsewhere. We'll be fine." "No, Sam. The really hard part is telling my parents I'm quitting college and moving away to a farm with a man I've only known for a short time and to whom I am not married." "Oh. Yeah, I suppose that might be just a tad tough. I hadn't even thought of telling my parents or what I would tell them about this. At least they knew I always intended to return to farming. I suppose they will be slightly upset with me about living with someone I'm not married to also but I don't think it will cause any trouble. Are you going to have serious trouble with your family?" "No, probably not serious trouble, but Dad and Mom will be upset I'm just moving in with you. They'll immediately think the worst and will probably give me some grief about it. The old "living in sin" routine, you know. Heck, they both know I've been with boys before but they can pretend I'm still a virgin if I'm not living with a man." "Do you want me to come with you when you tell them? Or are you just going to phone them to tell them?" "Oh, hell, no. This is something I have to do by myself. Besides, I don't want you killed before we stick it to Fenton. I think I'll go home this weekend and get it over with. Wish me luck." When Traci told her parents that Friday night at supper what she and Sam were going to do it was not received well. Her father looked angry but her mother stared at her in shock. She said, "Oh, Honey, NO. You can't do that. You can't move over 150 miles away and live with a man we've never even seen. How can you just drop out of college and move off to live with someone like that without even discussing it with us." "Mom, it's not like that. Yeah we're going to live and work together but that's all. This is purely a business arrangement. If we fulfill the contract we'll be given title to the farm free and clear. It will completely pay for our college education and maybe even a master's degree if we decide to sell the land. And Sam's a really nice, honorable man. I trust him fully and completely." "What do you mean IF you decide to sell the land? You don't mean you are thinking about living on the land with this man forever, do you? I thought you said this was only for four years." "It is, Mom, but we haven't discussed what we'll do with the ground for sure. We might rent it or farm it ourselves or sell it. We have to see it and win the bet, uh, I mean fulfill the contract first." "Well, we don't like it at all. When do we get to meet this young man, anyway? He can't be much of a man if he sent you home to face us alone. And what was that about a bet young lady?" Traci muttered 'shit' to herself when her mother caught the reference to the bet. She chose to ignore the question and address her query about Sam. She said, "I don't know when you will meet him, Mom. And he offered to come with me when I told you about the deal but I told him I didn't want him to. Ok?" "Well he should have been here. He must not be much of a man if he can't even come with you to discuss something this important. It's almost like he was afraid to face us." Needless to say, the rest of the weekend was strained for Traci and her parents. She was very glad to get back to college and Sam. When she saw him that Sunday evening she ran to him without thinking and hugged him tightly. Sam held and caressed Traci for a moment before saying, "I take it the weekend didn't go well?" Traci shook her head no, "Well, it wasn't horrible. They were upset, of course, but I think they have the anger out of their systems and are on the way to accepting my decision. They want to meet you, though. Will that be a problem?" "No, Trace, you know that won't be a problem. I wish I had gone with you to help explain. When do they want us to meet them?" "I told them we'd come down in a couple of weeks if you agreed to come. Was that ok?" "Yeah, whenever you want. Just let me know." Two weeks later Sam and Traci went to her parent's home so he could meet them. They drove his little Ranger rather than her car. Unfortunately, that might have been a mistake. The truck was mechanically very sound but it had spent most of its life as a farm truck and showed it. There were a few dents; it was dirty as only a farm truck can be-straw, grain and grease everywhere and the good cleaning Sam gave it before they left didn't get nearly all of it. There were several scratches in the paint. It had mud caked underneath. There was even a spot or two of rust in the usual places over the rear wheel wells. In short, it looked like what it was-a work truck that had been used for its entire 12 years of life as such. When they were about ten minutes from Traci's home she called her parents and told them they were almost there. Her mother and father were waiting in the yard for them when they drove up. After they parked, Sam got out of the truck and started around it to help Traci out. She didn't wait for him, however, and climbed out before he got around the front. She met him in front of the truck and took his hand. She led him to her parents and said, "Mom, Dad, this is Sam Donovan, the man I'm going to work with for the next four years. Sam, these are my parents Trevor and Wanda." Sam stepped forward to shake Trevor's hand. As he moved, he said, "I'm pleased to meet you both." Trevor took Sam's hand and applied just a slight amount of excessive pressure. Sam was surprised but responded with pressure of his own. Trevor's face showed a slight amount of shock when Sam added pressure to the shake instead of trying to pull away. He looked into Sam's eyes for a moment then relaxed his grip and nodded. After he released Sam's hand from the shake he continued staring Sam down as he said, "So, you're the man who is to blame for Traci dropping out of college. I hope you know what you're doing, throwing away a chance of a good education for some pipe dream. Well, you're here, I suppose you had better come on inside." Traci looked shocked and said, "Daddy! How could you say something like that? I told you Sam didn't talk me into dropping out of college. I explained to you two weeks ago why I am doing that. We can win, uh, successfully complete this contract and have a small farm free and clear. It will be a resource to help both of us get an advanced degree or a better start in our life." Wanda rested her hand on Trevor's arm for a moment as she said, "Now, Trevor, you promised to be nice. What's done is done and we can't change it. As I understand it, they have signed the contract and if they back out now they will literally lose everything they own." Wanda smiled at Sam and said, "Just ignore him, Sam. He, we, both wanted to see Traci finish college. She would have been the first person in the family to do that." "I understand, Mrs. Samuels. My parent's were a little upset also, but like Traci said, not only will we get to put that asshole, uh, excuse me, Fenton in his place, we can prove a point and make a substantial profit if we can pull this off and complete the contract. Truthfully, neither of us has all that much to lose if we fail. Where would this country be, or where would you folks be, if we or you had not dreamed and made an attempt to achieve that dream?" "Humphf. Well, we do understand dreams, but Traci has just given up one of her and our largest dreams. We dreamed she would finish college and make something of herself. I see the chances of that happening rapidly dwindling, now. But never mind, come on into the house and let's get comfortable while we get to know each other better." The next 45 minutes for Sam were filled with Mr. Samuel's grilling him about their plans and harping on them dropping out of college. Traci got a lighter dose of that while she helped her mother complete the evening meal. While they were eating, the conversation finally moved to more relaxing subjects. Unfortunately, Mrs. Samuels made the mistake of telling Traci she talked to the mother of Traci's best friend and was told the friend earned her Degree that month. Then she said, "I had so hoped I could tell Martha about your degree also and now I don't suppose I ever will." Traci noisily put her fork down and said in exasperation, "Mother, I've told you over and over I didn't drop out of college. I am only taking a little time off from going full time. Both Sam and I intend to enroll for Internet courses while we are on the farm so we can continue our education. Neither of us is sure we can get all the remaining courses we need for our degree on the net, but if we can't we'll at least be closer to the degree than we now are. We may not be able to finish before the contract expires but we will finish. Now, could you please just drop it?" After the meal, the four wandered out onto the porch to visit longer and watch the sun go down. That was when Mr. Samuels moved on to the other topic that was bothering him. He turned to face Traci and said, "I just don't understand how you can just up and move in with a man you've known such a short time. What if you get pregnant and he leaves you. You won't be the first young woman who fell for a line like that. I thought we raised you better than that." "Daddy, It's not like that. We're friends and study partners. Now we're also business partners. I'm not sleeping with him. We just have to live together to do the job here." "Yet. Maybe you're not sleeping with him yet, but I know how these things work. He'll keep working on you until he gets what he wants then you get the short end of the stick." Sam stood and glared at Trevor. He said, "Sir, I have never made an unwanted move on your daughter or any other woman. Like Traci said, we have not slept together and there is no plan for us to start. We are friends and business partners. That's all." Sam looked at Traci for a moment before continuing, "Traci is a fine woman. You should be proud of her. I am proud to call her a friend. I would also be a liar if I didn't say she is a beautiful woman and one who will make a fine wife and partner in the future. If anything happens between us it will be mutually decided on, but right now nothing sexual is on the table or being considered by either of us." Finally, the evening ended. By the time everyone went to bed that Friday night, the two kids were upset and exasperated with Traci's parents and the parents were upset because they couldn't talk sense into the kids. Sam was placed in a spare bedroom across from Traci's room upstairs in the old farmhouse. Traci's parents retired to their room, an addition made after the house was built, downstairs on the first floor. As Sam turned away from Traci to enter his bedroom he said, "Whew. That was intense. I think they're really worried about you, Traci. I don't know how we can make them feel better about this deal. I'm sorry I got you into this." He also laughed as he continued, "I'm a little surprised they even let me sleep up here in the spare room. I thought they might make me sleep downstairs on the couch or outside so they could be more sure you'd be safe." "Well, the couch might have been an option but they are the old school sort. You are a guest and since they have the guest room that is where you will stay. I bet neither of them gets a good nights sleep, though. They will be worrying you'll slip into my room and ravish me. I know it makes no sense since if we were going to do something like that we would have all the opportunity in the world to do it at college." The Bet "Yeah, well, good night, Trace. Wake me when you get up please. I don't want to do anything to make things worse like sleeping in or something." Traci laughed as she turned into her room. "Ok. Night." Thankfully when they met the next morning for coffee, and later breakfast, the conversation was less antagonistic and was much friendlier. Sam followed Trevor out after breakfast and helped him with his work. For his part, Trevor was favorably impressed with Sam's work. He never had to tell him how to do a task and when he completed it, it was done right. Sam might not have done the work the same way Trevor would have done it but he did do the work. A grudging mutual respect began to build between the two men. By the end of the day they were much friendlier and even managed to joke around somewhat during and after supper. At least by the time Sam and Traci left to return to college her parent's were somewhat more resigned to the whole deal and were more comfortable with Sam. Finally, classes were completed for the spring semester. Finals were over and it was time for Sam and Traci to move to the farm and take up their new jobs. To her surprise Traci's parents came to the college to meet her and Sam and follow them to the farm. The meeting was civil but very strained. Sam had allayed most of their fear and anger when he went to their home with Traci but they still were not exceedingly happy with the young couple. Fenton was his usual arrogant self. He showed up at the arranged meeting place almost thirty minutes late. He drove up beside Sam, Traci, and her parents and said, "Well, are you coming or not? I have things to do so we need to get you there so I can get back to more important things. Follow me and try to keep up." Fenton rolled his window up and began driving out of the parking lot as the people waiting on him scrambled to get into their vehicles and follow. The small 80 acre farm was almost 100 miles from the college and it was even farther from Sam's and Traci's homes. About half the class followed Fenton, Sam, and Traci when Fenton led them to the farm. Traci drove her ten-year-old Ford Taurus and Sam drove his 12-year-old Ranger Super Cab FX4. Each had their vehicles filled with all their worldly possessions. Sam also towed his small trailer made from a pickup bed. It had a cover on it with some of their belongings inside. He had personally made the trailer when he wrecked his first little Ranger. Fenton drove his mother's top of the line Mercedes SUV leading the small convoy to the farm. They drove for almost two hours before he turned off a small roughly paved county road onto an extremely rough dirt road. They bounced down the dirt road going no more than thirty miles an hour, dust billowing out behind each of the vehicles. Finally, they came to a locked gate in an overgrown fencerow. Fenton stopped, got out of his SUV and strutted up to the gate. He fumbled with some keys until he found the correct one, then he unlocked and opened the gate. He glanced back at his followers, gave them a sneer before driving down an indistinct trail through grass and brush until he reached a tree line near the back side of the place. Fenton pulled up beside a fallen down barn and stopped. He quickly got out of the SUV and leaned against the front fender of his vehicle. He smiled as he watched the others look around in disbelief. When everyone clustered around him he grinned toward Sam and Traci and said, "Well, here's your new home for the next four years. Enjoy it and get rich, suckers. Or maybe you want to just sign over all your belongings to me now?" After his little statement he let out a sinister laugh and stood with an exceptionally smug look on his face. Traci and Sam looked around in anger. They would literally be starting with nothing. Sam had slightly more than $2000 in funds available and Traci had about the same but it would take that much and more just to get a place out of the weather and buy necessary supplies. The money had been earmarked for their next semester's tuition at the college. Neither had a job now and the nearest town was almost ten miles away. They both planned on taking small handyman jobs to earn small amounts of cash. They grew up on farms and felt as if they could do almost any kind of handyman job if the need arose. Additionally, if they had free time they planned to walk the roads and pick up aluminum cans to recycle. They would even dumpster dive behind local bars and take the cans out of them. Many farmers had piles of old metal and machinery they would try to get permission to remove and sell. They had already written a contract that awarded them salvage rights for their labor in cleaning up junk piles on farms. Traci's father and mother got out of their vehicle and stood staring along with the other people. Her mother said, "Oh, Traci. What have you gotten yourself into? Why, there's not even a house to live in." Everyone wandered around for a few minutes while Fenton leaned arrogantly against his vehicle watching and smiling. He would occasionally laugh when he heard a comment about the mess he provided Sam and Traci to live in. Finally, without making any further comments, Fenton jumped in his vehicle and took off in a cloud of dust. Their friends commiserated with Sam and Traci for a moment after Fenton left then left also. The couple and Traci's parents watched the last car leave. Sam turned to Traci and said, "Well, I suppose we need to get someplace set up to sleep, then we need to look around and see exactly what we have to work with here. I think we need to take a little time to assess the situation then make some plans before we go off half-cocked." Traci's mother said, "Sam, you act like you intend to stay here. You can't be serious about this silly bet can you?" "Yes, ma'am, I'm very serious. Besides, if we don't stay we are legally required to give Fenton all our worldly goods. We wouldn't have funds for tuition or a vehicle any longer. We're pretty much stuck I would say." Mrs. Samuels said, "But there's not even a house here. You can't live in the open for four years. Just give it up and we'll see what we can do to help." She looked over at her husband and continued, "Won't we, honey? Maybe we can take out another loan on the farm or something to help the kids?" Before Mr. Samuels could answer both Traci and Sam said, "No." Traci then said, "We're doing this." Sam moved to his truck and began unloading the things they would need quickly. His first task was a place to sleep and cook. Sam quickly got his tent set up in the shade alongside a small stream that ran through the farm. Traci's father helped him. While they were doing that Traci and her mother unloaded their coolers and arranged her cooking area. After their temporary camp was set up the two couples began inspecting Sam's and Traci's home of the next four years. They wore jeans and work boots so the brush and briars wouldn,t do too much damage to their skin. After they walked around the overgrown yard for a moment they moved into the shade and talked for a few minutes. Traci's father looked around and sighed then said, "Kids, we have to go. We need to get home in time to do the chores. We'll try to come back and help you with some of this mess you've gotten yourselves into." Traci hugged her father and said, "No, Daddy. You can't do that. We have to do this all on our own or we will lose it all. We can't get unpaid help from anyone or we lose. You can come see us any time, though, if you want to." "We'll talk more about this later, pumpkin. Now we have to go." After Traci"s parents left the first thing Sam did was catch some earthworms, grub worms, and grasshoppers. He then delved into his fishing gear and found hooks, line and sinkers. After he prepared his lines he took his bait and the lines to the small stream and walked along looking for the perfect place to find a fish. He placed ten limb lines in as many minutes while Traci followed along watching and helping as needed. They planned to hunt and fish for as much of their meat as they could right from the start. After the limb lines were placed, Sam and Traci spent the next few minutes walking around their immediate surroundings. They gave the old burned house a cursory examination. They could see piles of rusty metal in the overgrown ashes where the appliances stood in the burned out remains. After the brief examination they moved on to the rest of the immediate area. There were a couple of smaller outbuildings that had sheltered livestock at one time. After inspecting the dilapidated outbuildings and falling down fences Sam and Traci walked toward the collapsed barn. They could see machinery, tools, and, boxes underneath the rotten boards. There was an older metal circular grain bin about thirty feet from the barn with old farm machinery parked and piled near it. After a complete 360 degree circuit of the barn the couple returned to the yard. As they entered the yard Sam said, "I didn't see a well house or a wellhead. I wonder if the well came up inside the house or how they got their water. They surely didn't drink out of the stream did they?" "I wouldn't think they would drink the stream water, but I know years ago people did and had no problems with sickness. I didn't see a well either, though. Do you think we just missed it?" "Anything's possible considering the mess around here but I'm pretty sure I would recognize a well house." Sam walked over to the burned out house once again and walked around the foundation as closely as he could. He paid more attention on this examination. Just off what he assumed was once the kitchen he stood and looked carefully at a pile of metal in the weeds and ashes. He yelled at Traci, "Hey, Trace, I think I see an old pump and pressure tank here in the ashes. They must have had a water source somewhere unless they pumped it from the stream." Traci came and looked at the old pump and tank then stood beside Sam for a moment. Finally, Sam said, "I guess we better get back to it." They turned and went out what had once been a yard gate. The couple followed a dim trail into the woods for about fifty feet and stopped in happy surprise. Their walk on the trail had gone up a gentle hill for the whole distance. About half way up the hill they came to a small clearing covered in dense bluegrass. Merrily gurgling along on the far side of the grass filled clearing was a fairly large spring. The spring bubbled from a small cave in the bluff on the hillside. It chuckled down the hill and flowed into the stream they had already seen. Sam got down on his knees to look back into the cave but couldn't see far. He did catch a glimpse of something long and black coming out of the stream bank nearest the home site. It ran along bottom of the streambed and extending back into the cave. After seeing the long partly covered item Sam began digging in the rocks and mud on the bed and bank of the spring. Sam got up grinning and said, "I think I found the water supply for the house Traci. There is a pipe running back into the hillside. I bet they pumped water from the spring into the house. Let's get a clean container and take a water sample in to the county office to have it tested. If it isn't contaminated we'll have our drinking water problem solved. It won't take much to pipe the water down to the house or we can even carry it if we have to. For now I can set up a gravity flow system and just let the water run down the pipe and into a container. The overflow can be directed back into the stream. After we plant our garden we can use the same pipes to water it if we need to." After they got a water sample they looked at the spring and enjoyed the little glade for a short time then took off walking through the small patch of woods. After the woods were fully explored the couple made two round trip passes through the more open parts of the farm before returning to their starting point beside the tent. During the walk through what had once been pastures and tilled fields the couple had to go around thickets of scrub brush and briars. There were even several young trees growing in the once open land. Nature was in the process of reclaiming what was hers. The land some settler cleared with his sweat and tears was rapidly reverting to the wild. Throughout the exploratory walk Traci took several pictures with her digital camera. They each carried a pad on which they took notes. They noted the remains of a small orchard with at least two types of apple tree and some old, old peach and pear trees as well. They found several wild raspberry and blackberry patches, too. When they got back to the shade beside the tent, Sam sat on a folding chair between the tent and streambed. He opened a gallon milk jug of water and drank deeply from the jug itself while watching Traci pull her chair up beside his and do the same thing. After they each finished drinking their fill Sam said, "I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, but I have to admit the place is in worse shape than I expected it to be. When Fenton said there was an old barn and home site I expected them to be standing but in need of repair. Hell, there isn't anything but a foundation for the house and no electricity. We can't live in the tent this winter but we don't have the money to build or buy anything much better. On the surface it looks as if we're beat before we start. The bad part is Fenton didn't lie. There is an old barn and there is an old house site. We just didn't think about what he was actually saying and pictured an older run down house that we could fix up. Honestly, though, I would have probably done the deal anyway." "Bullshit," Traci said. "We're not beat. We both know there has to be a way to do this." She looked around and continued, "I really want to win this bet. If we win and get the farm we can sell it for enough to more than pay the rest of our tuition. Land with live water on it is selling right now for about $3000 per acre. If we clean this place up we might even get $3,500 an acre. We might even manage to get a Master's Degree before we go broke again. You can't give up on this before we even start! Of course, if we lose we lose everything we own even if that isn't very much." "Hey, I never said I was going to quit. I was just stating a fact. If you remember when the discussion began I said a person could always find a way to pick up some extra income if he or she wanted to do it. I was talking about finding ways to make more money to supplement their regular income from a full or a part time job. Now we have to do it all. We have to make our way without a full time job to supplement. "I'm sure Fenton will be watching us and I wouldn't even put it past him to try and sabotage us if it looks like we're going to succeed. I think the first thing we need to do is spend the rest of the day listing things we need to accomplish and prioritize them. Then we need to figure out how we can fund items we have to purchase. I also want to spend some time inspecting the old barn. That wood is super old and we can use it and anything else we find on the place in any way we see fit. We need to figure out how much wood is there and decide if we want to use it for construction or if we can sell it for enough to purchase some of the things we need. Old barn wood in good condition is in demand for many decorating uses and brings a damn good price." The couple began listing work they needed to accomplish and spent the remainder of the day on the task. Of course, shelter and food were at the top of the list. They also debated getting electric service on the place once more. There were still transmission lines to the old house site so they decided to see what it would cost to get a meter set and what the monthly fee would be. By the time they finished they had an 8.5" by 11" sheet of paper filled with tasks. First was to immediately clear a space and plant a garden so they could grow much of their food. Second was a place to live in the cold weather and to store their preserved food. They also had to purchase jars to can the food in and a pressure canner in which to can it. Other tasks followed on the list were just slightly less important than the first three. They argued over the fourth task which was to rapidly discover a way to make money to fund their lives. They made a list of items they needed to purchase immediately. The list also included food, Health, and Beauty Aids. By the time the lists were completed and prioritized it was almost too dark to see so they decided to stop for the day. Sam stood and ducked into the tent. He came out with his ditty bag and a towel and said, "I need to go down to the stream and take a quick bath. I'm too grungy and hot to sleep if I don't. I'll check the limb lines while I'm gone. Maybe we'll be lucky and can eat fresh fish for supper." He quickly walked toward the stream. Traci sat and watched him for a moment then got her soap, shampoo and towel. She followed Sam to the small deep pool in the stream. When she reached it she took off her clothes and dropped them on the bank beside Sam's. The pool was cold after the heat of the day, but it felt nice after she got used to the chill. From the pool she could see where the spring ran into the stream. The stream was noticeably larger below the junction with their spring. Sam was nowhere in sight but she could hear him splashing downstream where he set the limb lines out. Soon he came back with three nice crappie, a catfish and three large perch on his stringer. Sam heard her splashing in the water and looked toward her. He stopped in surprise when he saw Traci naked and already soaping her hair. He squawked, "Traci! What are you doing?" Traci lowered her arms from shampooing her hair and looked at Sam. She said, "Right now I'm cleaning up like you suggested. Then while you're doing the same, I'm going to clean a couple of those fish and cook our supper then get a good night's sleep so we can begin our life together." She couldn't help it. When she saw Sam's face she giggled then returned to her shampoo. "You know what I mean Traci." Traci rinsed her hair and began soaping her body as she answered Sam. She said, "Yeah, I do. Look, we're going to live together for the next four years. I'm pretty sure neither of us is a virgin and we both know what the opposite sex looks like. I'm not going to waste time or energy trying to be modest when I know it's futile and I suggest you don't, either. The way we will have to live and work together will be almost like a married couple, anyway." Sam watched Traci and felt his cock rise. She was exceptionally good looking in a wholesome, farm girl way. She was well muscled and had not an ounce of fat on her 5' 6" frame. He continued toward and past her on his way to a tree root hanging into the pool. He bent and attached his stringer of fish to the root so they were still in the water and turned back to the pool and the bathing Traci. Sam walked up to her and took the proffered soap and began his bath. He kept looking at his partner whenever he could. Of course this resulted in a constant erection and a building need in his groin. Occasionally he would see a small smile flit across Traci's face. Her eyes glittered with mischief. The two quickly finished their bath. Before they got out of the water Sam walked over where the spring flowed into the pool. He stood looking up toward the head of the spring for several moments then finally splashed his way back to the stream bank where he entered the water. Sam walked onto the bank and began to dress in the clean clothes he brought with him. Traci laughed at him, picked up her dirty clothes, and took off down the trail naked. Sam stopped with his pants half pulled up and sighed. He removed his pants and followed Traci's bouncing butt. By the time he got back to the tent she was already headed for the stream once again carrying a pan and knife to clean the fish. The Bet While Traci cleaned the fish Sam gathered some wood and built a fire for her to cook over. He also got out the few ingredients he thought she would need to prepare the meal. They both finished their tasks about the same time. Sam sat on his chair and talked to Traci while she cooked and they ate their meal. After they finished the meal, he helped her clean up then they headed into the woods for their last piss of the evening. When Sam came back to the tent it was almost too dark to see. He crawled into the tent and saw Traci on her air mattress with a sheet covering her. He crawled into his sleeping area and Traci murmured, "Night, Sam." "Nite, Trace." The next morning Sam woke and jerked back. He was snuggled against Traci's back with his morning wood nestled against her fine ass. He had a hand full of soft tit with a hard nipple. When he moved Traci turned her head to Sam and smiled. She said, "Good morning." When Sam continued to pull away Traci broadened her smile and said, "Oh, relax, Sam. Are you trying to tell me you didn't expect something like this to happen? I certainly did. Now I'm not saying we're going to have sex, but I'm not saying we never will, either. I'm not ready to let you fuck me but I AM sleeping with you and I really liked waking up like this. This tent is much too small to expect separation of the beds anyway. What we do while we're asleep is just that. We're asleep. If I didn't trust you and like you a little I sure wouldn't have agreed to spend the next four years with you. Now, calm down and let's get busy." Sam was sitting in his chair watching Traci prepare breakfast as he went over their notes from yesterday. Occasionally he would make a comment or ask a question about the notes. After going through them completely once again he said, "You know, Trace, before we jump on spending money we probably should stop a minute and think about where we can maybe get more of it to spend." "Yeah, I guess you're right. Any ideas?" "Maybe. After we make a list of things we need to buy I think we need to go into town and hit the library or maybe call on some contractors to see if the barn wood is saleable. It looks like there are several walnut trees here on the place too so we can pick up and sell walnuts this fall. We might be able to cut and sell firewood, also. We still need to think about finding part time work in town. I have some lawn tools so we can maybe pick up some yards to mow this summer and maybe even some handy man work. My old chain saw is in good shape so we can cut firewood. After we get enough for our use this winter we'll keep cutting to get a supply to sell. As much as I hate to do it we might consider using some of our money to buy a wood splitter. Remember, we only have $4327.66 in cash to spend so we have to be darn careful about expenses until we have money coming in though. I'm scared to death that one of us will become ill or get injured and rack up a large medical bill. That would kill this deal immediately." The next day they went to town and put notices on several bulletin boards in grocery stores, self service laundries, and other retail establishments advertising their availability to mow yards and do odd jobs and simple repair work. They also called three contractors and visited four hobby shops trying to sell the old barn wood. They had samples to show and an estimate of how much wood there might be to sell. Many of the hobby shops expressed an interest in the wood but they didn't commit to purchase any. As much as they hated to do so they decided they needed to hire someone to come out and clear off a large area for a garden. On the way home they stopped at one of the neighboring farms to see if the owner would get the garden ready to plant for them. The man agreed to clear, plow and prepare two acres for planting for $125 if it wasn't too overgrown. He agreed to do the work within the next week. The next morning the partners began carefully tearing down the old barn. As they removed wood and metal roofing from the structure they sorted it and piled similar pieces together. As they worked they carefully uncovered the tools and old farm machinery buried underneath the fallen structure. They also worked carefully to uncover the wooden boxes containing who knows what when it collapsed. They were tempted to immediately go on a treasure hunt but forced themselves to continue with the original job. From time to time they had to move some of the items in the barn but they spent minimal time doing so and looking inside them. Six days later the old barn was completely razed and the wood sorted into piles. They also had two large piles of metal roofing and siding. The unusable pieces of metal were piled separately to be hauled to the recycling center. They took a load of recyclable metal every trip they took to town. By the time the barn was torn down the garden was ready for planting. Sam and Traci spent the next three days planting their garden. They planted all the common vegetables, tomatoes, peppers and other quick growing plants. The garden was situated so it could be watered from the stream using a ram jet pump or with a little effort from the spring using gravity flow. Sam intended to purchase PVC pipe for a gravity flow irrigation system and perhaps later he would purchase the Ram Jet pump if they needed more water than they could obtain from the spring. After the garden was planted the couple discussed their next project. Sam said, "Well, unless we get a job in town I suggest we begin looking at the things that were stored in the barn. I might be able to get that old tractor running if we don't need too many expensive parts. That would make work here easier and cheaper since we wouldn't have to hire machine work, assuming the implements don't break when we begin using them. Some of those implements look old enough for the metal to be brittle. I would also like to see what's in those boxes and crates. We also need to cut some firewood for the winter. I think we should do that first thing in the mornings while it's still cool and work on sorting the items in the barn and repairing the machinery and tools during the heat of the day. Some of the sorting and repair work can be done in the shade." They hadn't even finished looking the machinery over when they got a phone call. One of the hobby shops ordered a load of barn wood to make picture frames and decorative shelves. They promised to load and deliver it the next day so never finished looking at the items in the barn. That one load would generate almost $2,400 in income for them. The shop ordered 800 board feet of wood at $3.00 per board foot delivered! That was only about 20% of the usable wood from the old barn. After the delivery the couple deposited the check in their bank account, keeping $400 in cash for expenses. They purchased a few items and quickly returned home to work. While they drove they discussed their need for shelter during the winter. Sam said, "We have two choices as I see it. We can either try to build a small cabin or we can purchase a small travel trailer. Either way we will be living in each other's pocket. The days we are stuck inside will be pretty boring. No way will we have enough money to rent a place even if we were allowed to live elsewhere. "If we build a small cabin I think 20X20 feet is about as large as we could afford to build. I think if we do all the work we can complete it for about $10,000-$12,000. That is a bare bones one room building. We MIGHT be able to put an inside toilet in it but that is all. The good point of that is we could heat it with wood so heating would be nearly free. "If we purchase a used travel trailer we could get one for under $4000 with maybe half the space inside. We could not heat it with wood and I doubt it would be as energy efficient as we could make the one we build. In that case we would have to purchase Propane to run the heater all winter and to cook with." After they got home they put their cold food in crates and carried it to the spring to stay cool. While Traci prepared a late lunch Sam sat staring at the pile of machinery and jumble of boxes where the old barn had been. His glance flicked over to the side where the old galvanized metal grain bin squatted in the midst of rusted farm implements and weeds. All at once he stood and began walking toward the grain bin. When he got there he walked around it tapping it occasionally. He looked it over carefully. He found the ladder built into the side of the bin and climbed to the top where he scrutinized the roof. By the time Sam was on top of the grain bin Traci had followed him to it. She stood on the ground and yelled up to Sam, "What are you doing Sam? Why did you just quit talking and come over here? Is something wrong?" "No, Trace, I just had an idea. Give me a minute." Sam moved to the very top of the bin and opened the top cover over the hole through which the bin was filled. He looked down into the bin then closed the lid and climbed off. He took Traci's hand and pulled her to the side door. With a little effort he opened the door and looked around inside before he climbed into the bin and pulled the door closed. In the pitch dark Sam turned a circle looking at the walls and top. He smiled and opened the door to see a very puzzled Traci. She said in exasperation, "Are you going to tell me what the hell you're doing or not?" Sam smiled and held his hand out to Traci. He said, "In a minute. Come in here with me, please." He helped Traci climb over the three-foot high threshold to enter the bin through the approximately three foot by two foot door in the side. As she stood beside him, he put his arm around her waist without thinking. He said, "I think we can convert this old grain bin into a house. It needs to be cleaned out to get the little remaining moldy grain out of it but I think it would work fine for a house. I closed the door and I can"t see any holes in the sides where light comes through. If no light comes through it's probably still water tight. I don't see any evidence in the dust that the structure leaks. There is a concrete floor already installed. It looks like it's about 24 feet in diameter. We can either build a floor about eight feet up and have a two story house or just put in a ceiling and insulate over it and have a one story house. I think we might be able to do two stories and have the bed on the second level with a cooking area and sitting room down here." Sam took out his cell phone and loaded the calculator ap. After punching the buttons he said, "If this is a 24 foot wide building there is about 452 square feet of floor space. An upstairs bedroom would double that excluding the space needed for the stairs. We would have all the room we need and then some." Traci looked around inside again, this time with a thoughtful look on her face as she mentally tried to fit herself into the building. Finally she said, "What would it cost if we did that? We'd still have to buy a lot of material wouldn't we?" "Not as much as you might think. We could buy 4" thick Styrofoam sheets for insulation and either leave them white to help lighten up the inside or we could even paint them. We would have to be really careful of open flames if we did that because Styrofoam is highly flammable but it's great insulation. We could use the large 6 X 6 beams from the barn for the second floor supports and floor joists. We would have to purchase plywood for the floor itself but other than that I think we have everything we need to make the conversion. Of course we will have to buy the stove and some wiring if we put electricity in. If we want water in the building we need to plumb it and buy a hot water heater. My vote would be this first year to just run the gravity flow water down here and plumb the building and do the hot water heater next year. We can heat water on the stove for washing dishes and bathing. That would save several hundred dollars." Traci crawled out of the bin and returned to her chair with Sam following. When they were seated once again they looked at the bin for a moment. Traci said, "Sounds good to me. Let's do it. Come on, let's begin making a list of things we need to buy while we eat lunch so we can get started. Can we cut at least one window in the wall, though? Please?" "Yeah, I can do that, but it will be a bitch to seal it I think." "Oh, come on. So it costs a little more. We really need SOME natural light inside. Surely one decent sized window wouldn't cost that much. And could we make a real door into the bin? It would be hard to climb in that little hole with an armload of wood or groceries. And a roof, sort of a porch roof, over the door would be nice to keep the rain off." "No problem. I agree about the door and porch roof. I would like to make sort of a carport on the south side also to keep rain and snow off the truck and car. Maybe we can even make it large enough to put the tractor in if we get it running. I think we have enough metal roofing from the barn to do all that and maybe even put sides on at least part of it." That afternoon the young couple began cleaning out the trash and getting the bin ready for occupancy. Traci continued taking pictures of each step of their work. She even stopped several times during the day and made notes. After the trash was cleaned out of the bin they cut the 6 X 6 supports and took them inside that day also. That evening while they were eating their supper Sam looked over at Traci and asked, "Traci, why are you taking so many pictures and making so many notes as we work? We could get a lot more done if you didn't stop so often and do that." Traci blushed slightly and said, "I thought I might make a record of everything, and this winter while we were not doing anything else I would try to write a book about our project. I thought with all the interest in reality TV shows that if I do a good enough job I might be able to sell the book and make even more money. I'm sorry you think it's taking too much time. I can stop if you want me to and make my notes after we quit for the day." "Hey, I never thought of that. That's a really good idea. Do you need any help? OH, I'm sorry. I guess this is just your project. No, that's fine now that I understand." "What? NO! That's not what I meant. Of course you can help. We're in this together. We're a team. I couldn't do this without you and if I can sell the book you'll be an equal partner just like we are in the rest of this deal. I would really love to have your help. You can write part of the stuff and proof read what I write. We can do this together just like we did our papers in class." The next day they spent the morning planning their new home. They made careful measurements and made a list of items they needed to purchase. After the list was completed they went to town and bought everything on the list they needed immediately. The next two weeks all their time not spent on the garden was spent working on their home. Before they began working on the interior Sam decided where they would put the carport and front porch roof. He drilled holes in the metal walls and bolted angle iron on the outside to attach a roof to the bin after first placing rubber washers over the bolts to prevent leaks. Next they drilled holes in the support posts and bin wall to bolt the uprights to the wall. After that was done they cut and fit the Styrofoam insulation inside the old bin then cut and attached the floor joists to the support posts. The stairs to the upper level came next, curving around the outside wall as they rose. The upper floor was laid down then support posts for the ceiling were set. After the supports and ceiling joists were in, insulation was installed for the upper level walls. They used the Styrofoam sheets over the ceiling joists for a ceiling. This made sure it was well insulated. Next Sam ran wiring and placed wall outlets and two light fixtures, one in each ceiling. They purchased the cheapest light fixtures they could find which turned out to be florescent shop lights. They weren't a fashion statement by any means but they did throw enough light to live by. Next came the installation of the stove and its pipe. Sam placed the stove almost dead center of the first floor. He cut a circular hole in the upper wood floor almost 36" in diameter to run the stovepipe through. The pipe continued straight up to exit the house through the hole originally used to fill the bin with grain. A metal flange was used to keep water from coming down the pipe. The ceiling Styrofoam was cut back away from the pipe two feet and fiberglass insulation was placed up to a metal dead air chamber where the chimney went through the bedroom ceiling. The stovepipe was single wall to the bedroom ceiling and triple walled from there on for safety's sake. The single wall pipe was used in the living area to harvest more of the heat from the smoke as it rose up the chimney. A small metal protective rail was set around the pipe in the bedroom so they wouldn't stumble against it or step into the hole in the floor. Between the window in the door and the one window facing southeast in both the upstairs and downstairs the interior was light enough during daylight that artificial light was unnecessary unless they were reading. After the interior was completed Sam cut cedar poles to use for the support poles on the porch and carport roof then they completed those roofs. The day they finished they stood back and looked at their new home with pride. Traci wrapped her arms round Sam and gave him a kiss. She said, "Thank you, Sam. It's perfect. It may not look like much but its cozy and I think it will be nice and warm this winter. I know we spent a lot on it but this little house will last us as long as we need it and still be strong and sturdy." "You're welcome, Trace, but you know we really didn't spend that much on it. You know we've only got about $2,700 in the materials and the cheap little wood stove. The best part of it is we can cook on the stove in winter. I'll build us an outdoor rock fire pit and BBQ we can cook on under the porch roof for warmer days. We have enough blocks and metal lying around we can do that easily. I even think I can cobble together an outside oven so we can bake things." "When we can would it be ok if I bought a real bed? I can get by with the home made table and counters but I would really like to have a more comfortable bed. Please? And maybe get a couple of more comfortable chairs for downstairs? And I would really like a cheap refrigerator if we can find one." "Yeah, no problem. I would like a good bed also. I think if we go to a second hand store we can get some pretty good stuff pretty cheap. But let's wait until we get ready to move in for the winter." Much of the rest of the summer was spent caring for the garden or preserving their produce. During their spare moments the young couple did move the old junk machinery and metal from around their house to a location behind where the old barn once sat. If they could use the machinery and it was repairable, they would do so. The remainder would be hauled to the salvage yard. They also spent some time going through the boxes that were in the old barn. Near the bottom of the pile they found several old liquor boxes inside some partly rotten wooden crates. When Sam pulled the crates out of the pile of rubbish and opened them they stood and stared. The crates were filled with old beer steins, elaborate liquor decanters and even some neon advertising signs for beer and liquor. One of the cases had records from a liquor store from the 1950's through 1975. Traci began madly pulling the pieces from the box and looking them over before carefully putting them down beside her. Traci sat back on her heels and looked up at Sam. She said, "Sam, can you believe this? I think some of these things are worth hundreds of dollars! I need to take pictures of this and we need to go to town so I can look them up on the internet. I know this one Jack Daniels decanter is worth over $300 dollars because my grandfather had one just like it and he sold it for that several years ago. Look, some of them even still have the whiskey in them. Sam, we're rich! Well, not rich rich, but if we can sell these we will have a lot of money to live on here." The Bet It took Traci three days to get her pictures. She carefully washed each piece before she took the picture then moved it into the house after the picture was taken. They went to town and Sam let her out at the library then ran errands while Traci did her research. Two hours later Sam returned to the library but Traci was only about half done with her list. They sat and talked as Traci and Sam worked. Sam worked at the computer next to Traci to speed the task along. By late afternoon they had prices on maybe one-half to two-thirds of the items they found. They added up the prices and sat in total shock. The value of the items they found prices for totaled almost $6,000 and that was without the whiskey contained in the decanters that had not been emptied. By the time they completed their research they only found prices for about two-thirds of the steins and three-fourths of the decanters. Almost none of the signs were priced but representative examples potentially indicated they were worth as much or more than the steins and decanters. They were especially valuable if they still worked properly. On the way out of town Sam slammed on the brakes and pulled into the parking lot of a Floor Store. He pulled up behind the building beside the dumpsters. He got out and began walking around the overflowing dumpsters lifting and looking at the carpeting and padding they contained. He pulled three large rolls of used carpet from the dumpsters and opened them up slightly. They all seemed to be the same beautiful burgundy color. "Hey Trace," he said. "What do you think about this carpet for our floors? I think there's enough here to completely cover them. I even think we can salvage enough of this used padding to use also." "Could we? That would be a lot warmer this winter than the concrete or bare wood floors we have now." "Ok, help me get it into the truck." "What? Just take it? We can't do that can we?" "Sure. It's no different than taking cans from the dumpsters is it?" "I guess not. Are you sure we won't get into trouble?" "Yeah, it'll be fine. Tell you what, I'll go inside and check if it'll make you feel better." Sam walked around the front of the building and headed toward the sales counter in the back. A smiling salesman met him and asked how he could help. Sam introduced himself and said, "My girlfriend and I are a little short of cash. We saw the used carpet and padding in your dumpster and wondered if we could have it?" "Well, I don't know. You'd have to talk to the boss about that." A portly man walked up and said, "Did I hear you ask about that junk carpet in the dumpster?" "Yes. My girlfriend and I are a little short of cash. In fact, we're almost totally broke. We converted a grain bin on our farm into a house and I was wondering if we could have the used carpet and padding in your dumpster?" "You're joking right? You really live in a grain bin on a farm?" "Yes, sir." The man looked at Sam for a moment then said, "Hell, I don't suppose it matters. If you don't take it the whole mess will end up in the dump. Yeah, you can have it. Most people just drive up and the it without even asking." "Great. Thanks. I would like to purchase some of the tape and strips we need to lay the carpet if that will help." A few minutes later Sam and one of the dock workers came back to the dumpster area carrying Sam's purchases. The store employee helped Sam and Traci select and load the padding and carpet. He even helped them tie it down. Soon the couple was back on the road grinning from ear to ear. On the way home the truck cab was filled with excited conversation. Traci said, "I can't believe we have all this carpet and padding and it was free. Have you ever laid carpet? This is going to be so great. And can you believe the prices we found for some of the items in the barn. What should we do with all those things, Sam? I'm scared to death to have that valuable stuff just lying around in the house. I think we need to sell it but how will we do it? I know Fenton said we could use anything here and sell anything we wanted to sell, but if this gets out I bet he tries to take it from us." "I don't know what to do. We need to sell some of it just to build up our nest egg but I agree we don't want to be too obvious here. Why don't we put some of the more common pieces and the duplicates on E-Bay and see what happens? We can put a reserve price on them and charge a little extra for shipping and handling. We can just sell a few of the empty pieces at a time. I think I can come up with a pretty safe place to store the rest of the things. We can hang a shelf over the bedroom ceiling and put them up there. No one would probably look there even if they break into the house. There are a few of the things I would really like to keep too. A couple of the mirrors and signs as well as some of the steins and decanters would look good in our house. If we get hard up for money we can sell more. Let's just sell what we don't think we want right now." By the time the auction was completed the couple managed to sell all the duplicate items in their find. They also sold some of the steins and decanters they didn't want to keep. The final take from the stein and decanter sales was $9,397. They sold the unwanted neon signs for another $7,327. There was also a profit from shipping and handling of $1273.27. The couple still owned 12 steins 17 decanters, four mirrors and three neon signs. All 17 of the decanters were unopened and still had whiskey in them. In late August Professor Francisco called and asked if she could come visit. Of course the couple said, "Yes." Paula was awed by the progress Sam and Traci made when she saw it. She fell in love with their little grain bin house. She spent the entire afternoon taking pictures and interviewing the couple. They told her about selling the barn wood but didn't mention the other finds for fear it would get back to Fenton. They also told her of the plan to sell firewood in the winter, produce in the summer, and pick up cans and haul scrap metal off local farms as well as mow yards and do odd jobs. She was skeptical about their ability to do all that work. She also was skeptical about their plans to write a book about their experience. She tried to tell them unknown authors with no degree and no agent were wasting their time to attempt such a task. Most people who write fail to find an agent, she said, and the majority of the publishing houses won't read a manuscript if it isn't submitted by an agent. By the middle of September Sam and Traci had their home looking nice. The "yard" was cleared within 50 feet of the house and kept mowed. They also mowed a strip down to the stream and around the garden. They also had jars and jars of canned food ready for the winter. During the summer they sold all the barn wood and cut a good sized pile of firewood. They had forty cords of wood cut, split, and piled with metal covers on it to keep it partly dry. They planned to sell much of the wood but would burn some to heat their house. They believed they could heat their house with a total of 6-8 cords. If they sold the remaining 32 cords of wood they would gross $3,060 for their effort. The cost of cutting was maybe $100 and then they would have to deduct delivery fuel. They expected a net of about $2,000 from the firewood. In September one of the neighbors began picking a large field of corn next to Sam's and Traci's small farm. Sam and Traci watched him open up the field. Throughout the first day they would marvel at the speed with which his modern combine moved through the ripe corn. Near quitting time Sam looked at Traci and said, "I think I figured out how we can make more money here Trace. Why don't we check and see if we can pick up the corn the combine misses in the field after Mr. Stevens finishes combining? We can make our own corn meal and save the extra corn we pick up for chicken or other animal feed if we get some animals." The next morning early Sam met the neighbor in the field when he did his before operation maintenance on his combine. They visited for a short time then Sam made his request. Mr. Stevens said, "Heck, I don't have a problem with you picking up the ears I leave behind. I usually turn my cattle into the field to clean it up but they won't miss the small amount you pick up. Take all you want." "Thanks. What will you charge us for it?" "Heck, there's no charge, son. Glad to help. I remember how tight things was when me and Martha was starting out." "Sir, I'm sorry but I can't let you give us the grain. We have to pay our own way and make our income without help or we'll lose the land. I have to pay you something for the grain or I can't take it." The two neighbors visited for a while longer and finally settled on $50 as a token amount for the grain. Sam knew he could pick up enough corn to more than be worth that small amount. They wrote up a contract on a piece of paper and both signed it. The farmer even sold Sam and Traci four bushels of wheat for $12.00. They planned to grind it into flour and make their own bread. There were a lot of loaves of bread in 4 bushels of wheat. Before the corn left in the field was damaged by the weather to a point it wasn't fit for human consumption Sam and Traci picked up almost five pickup and trailer loads still on the cob. After they shelled it by hand they figured they had about a ton of shelled grain. Since the USDA specified a bushel of corn weighs 56 pounds they had approximately 35 bushels of corn for their $50 investment. Corn was selling for $3.79 a bushel so they almost tripled their money. If they used the corn for feed they would make even more than that because feed prices were higher. Fenton put in an appearance once just after college started and was his usual obnoxious supercilious self. He walked around looking at the improvements they made to the place, gave them a nasty looking smile and said, "Things are looking better here. Keep up the good work kids. This place might be worth something when you leave." After a couple more cutting remarks he drove off and left a seething couple in his wake. Neither Sam nor Traci managed to do much work in town that summer. They were much too busy preparing winter quarters and working on their garden. They did obtain three yards to mow. This income kept them in the foods they had to purchase and paid for their fuel to and from town. They actually managed to end the summer with more in the bank than they started with! A lot more. Almost half of the barn money was in the bank as well as their initial cash balance and the $17,997.27 from the sale of the liquor store items. The barn wood sales paid all their summer living expenses and built their house for them and they still had money from that left over. In early September Sam finally found the time and began working on the old tractor to see if he could get it running. Luckily, it was a 1975 Ford 3000 diesel and parts were neither expensive nor too difficult to find. It needed a few gaskets, belts, and hoses, a new battery and seals in the hydraulic cylinders for the loader. Sam's grandfather had a 3000 just like it for years. It was a very good small tractor and best of all the implements it used were in the barn with it. The tires were nearly ruined and would be very costly to replace but they did still hold air. Sam and Traci decided not to replace the tires until they were forced to. Sam thought that would be in the spring when they began to use it heavily. By the time the walnuts began falling the tractor purred like a happy kitten as it should. There were less than 3,000 hours on its clock. For the last week in September and first three weeks in October Sam and Traci spent every spare moment picking up walnuts and hauling them to the buying station. By the time buying ended they managed to make another $1635 from picking up and selling black walnuts. This money also went into the bank. During the time they picked up walnuts the young couple also picked up several hundred pounds of pecans from three wild pecan trees on the property. They were the smaller less tasty native pecans but still good to eat. They kept those nuts for their personal use. Finally the mad pace they followed during the summer slowed down and Sam and Traci could relax somewhat. They were sitting on their porch one morning enjoying some rare free time drinking coffee when Sam said, "Traci, I've been thinking about next year. We won't have such a hectic summer next year because we won't be trying to get our house built. What do you think about putting in a large acreage of corn and tomatoes and selling them at the farmer's market? We can even plant some other vegetables to sell in addition to what we need for our use. I would also like to plant some pumpkins to sell around Halloween. If we do that and mow yards I think we can make some pretty good money. In the fall we can cut and sell firewood and pick up walnuts like we did this year." "That sounds fine with me. I would like to buy a small freezer if we can. I enjoyed the fish we caught this summer but I am sure getting tired of fish and wild game and would like the freezer so we can buy some beef, chicken, and pork to eat along with the wild game. I would like to be able to freeze some of our produce instead of canning so much, as well. There are some vegetables I like frozen better than canned." "I agree. I don't think we should buy a small freezer though. I think we should get a larger one. They are only about $100 more than the small ones and hold a lot more. Why don't we think about raising our own chickens and maybe even hogs and beef? We have some corn to feed them and can pick up more next fall I'm sure. We can butcher most of the chickens and save some for eggs and to set for more chicks the year after. We can buy a couple of calves from one of the dairys and raise them on milk replacer to butcher. Heck, if we can afford it we can buy three or four calves and keep all but one to breed and start a small cattle herd. We have plenty of pasture here for them." Traci smiled and said, "Yeah, lets. We can get a fence in this fall before it gets cold and build a chicken coop and shelter for the other animals so we will be ready in the spring. We still have some of the poorer wood and metal from the barn left for the shelters. That's a great idea." The young couple continued improving their home and working together the rest of the fall. They didn't feel as if they had the money to return home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas so they agreed to only go home Christmas. They did splurge for the Thanksgiving Day's meal however. Thanksgiving was the beginning of a new phase in their lives. They purchased a small turkey and made the traditional Thanksgiving meal. Traci was somewhat moody and sad during the day but happy none the less. It was the first major holiday either spent away from their families. That evening the couple sat on their porch and looked over their little spread. Without thinking Sam wrapped his arm around Traci and pulled her against his side. She laid her head on his shoulder and relaxed against him. He turned to kiss her. After the gentle kiss they relaxed and watched the sun set. When it became too cool to remain outside they rose and moved inside and up the stairs to their bedroom. Without conscious thought they kissed and began undressing each other. The kisses became more and more urgent as more skin was uncovered. Sam moved Traci to the bed and gently laid her on it then crawled up beside her. He continued to kiss her as he gently massaged her breasts. She moaned with need and gently guided his head to her breast. When Sam took a nipple into his mouth and sucked she moaned once again and arched her back. Sam moved back and forth between breasts for several minutes as he caressed her body. Slowly he kissed his way down her torso and moved between her legs. Traci spread her legs and gently cradled his head as Sam began licking her labia and pressing gentle kisses on her upper, inner thighs. Slowly Traci's pelvis began to move and thrust as she writhed under Sam's expert manipulations and licking. Sam ran his tongue from her taint to her clit and gave it a quick flick. Traci groaned and her hips thrust. Sam moved back and licked up her slit, then delved into her love hole as deeply as his tongue could go. He gently pressed his tongue into her cleft as he moved up to her clit once again. He sucked her clit into his mouth and began quickly flicking it with his tongue. Traci screeched and pulled Sam's head tightly against her as her pelvis began wildly thrusting and she rubber her clit against Sam's tongue. Finally, Traci sighed and collapsed back against the bed. Sam smiled and moved up to give her a gentle kiss. Traci licked her juice off Sam's lips and pulled him to her while she thrust her pelvis upward. Sam smiled and nudged his cock forward until he felt it notch into her vagina. He thrust and pulled back twice. On the third thrust Traci thrust upward to meet him and he bottomed out. They began the old in and out so familiar to sexually active humans. As they continued they became more and more frantic until they were slamming against each other. Finally in less time than it takes to tell of it they reached a mutual plateau. They screamed out their pleasure as each felt their body shake and twitch as orgasm rushed through them. Sam gloried in the feeling of Traci's cunt fluttering and caressing his cock while she came. Traci felt more fulfilled as a woman then she ever had before when she felt Sam pump his seed from his throbbing cock into her spasming pussy. Traci looked up at Sam and pulled him down for a kiss. She whispered, "Sam, I love you so much. I can't believe it has taken us this long to do this. We've been living together and sleeping together for almost six months." Sam rolled to the side and pulled Traci against him. He gave her a gentle kiss and said, "I love you, too, Traci. This whole mess has been worth it even if we don't succeed because I've found you." "Sam, don't talk like that. We WILL succeed. This will be our farm free and clear and I don't ever want to leave it. Never. I want you here with me always. It's our home now and I love it and you." The two new lovers drifted off to sleep and didn't stir from bed the rest of the night. The next morning Sam woke up to find Traci already gone and the smell of perking coffee coming up the stairs. He quickly pulled his clothes on and followed his nose. When he got to the foot of the stairs he stood watching Traci work. She was in jeans and a tight T-shirt, her braless breasts bouncing with every move she made. When Traci heard Sam she looked up at him, smiled, and poured his first cup of coffee and carried it to him. When he took the cup he pulled her to him with his free arm and gave her a quick kiss, then smiled down at her. She smiled at him and said, "Good morning, Honey. I'll get my coffee and a coat and join you on the porch." After the couple was seated on the porch they talked about their plans for the immediate future. Sam thought they should clear brush and prepare the fields they wanted to plant next year while the weather was good and the ground wasn't frozen. Traci agreed so the plan was made. They had already made arrangements to purchase a truckload of chicken litter to use for fertilizer. Sam intended to take soil samples and get them tested so he knew how much fertilizer and lime to apply before they planted in the spring, For the next three weeks they worked clearing ground, stopping only to make necessary trips to town either for supplies or to deliver firewood. They did take time out to cut and split wood to replace the wood they sold. By the time it became too cold to work the ground they had about five more acres cleared and ready to plant in sweet corn, tomatoes, and other vegetables the next spring. The Bet "Do you think he wants to fuck me?" Their dinner guest had just excused himself to make a call and Jo slipped her hand into her lover's and leaned close to him, whispering the words playfully into his ear. They'd had a lovely meal, it was winter again, her favorite season, and tonight she was just... happy. She felt light and sensual, like the microscopic bubbles spiraling in her glass of Crystal, and James looked so handsome in his not-worn-often suit. Fine tailoring always turned her on, he'd been erudite, funny and charming all evening, which was driving her mad, and suddenly she felt a bit giddy and adventurous. "Why? Do you want him?" James asked dryly, glancing across the crowded room to see if Burton was still out of earshot. "No, I want you. But I thought maybe we could have some fun. That is if you think he'd be game... and if you're in the mood." An hour later they were standing together in the living room. James had just lit a fire and it was the only available light, casting a flickering orange glow on Jo's breasts. James was undressing her while Burton watched over the rim of his glass. When she was entirely naked, James urged Burton to come closer, adding "You might want to set that down for a minute." The bet was entirely Jo's idea. James warned her he didn't think she had that much control yet, but she insisted and promised if she failed, he could concoct a wickedly erotic punishment. But she wouldn't fail. "I want to show you something," James said, and told Burton to insert two fingers into her cunt. She inhaled sharply at the penetration, they were ice cold from holding his drink. James touched the tip of her nipples, and she shivered slightly as they blossomed. He traced a line up her silken throat, then turned her face to his and kissed her deeply, passionately, pressing her body against his with Burton's arm caught between them. Both men felt her cum instantly. Not once, but repeatedly, over a period of a minute, the whole time her lover's mouth held hers captive. When Burton withdrew his fingers, they glistened with her cum. He tasted it, and murmured he was glad they invited him to the party. Now that Burton knew with certainty that Jo wasn't frigid, that in fact she was passionate, willing, maybe even easy... James wondered if he'd like to make a little bet, just to make things interesting. He explained that Jo belonged to him and would only cum if he gave her permission. Her lover was willing to bet a hundred dollars that, no matter what he did to her, Burton couldn't make her cum. Until James told her she could. Burton laughed softly, "No one can do that." "Then you've won a hundred dollars, "and James placed a crisp bill on the gleaming oak table next to them. Burton shook his head, wondering if she could only respond to James, some sort of chemical thing. he didn't want a stacked deck against him. Jo's heartbeat shot up as James put her into Burton's arms, the sexual tension between her and her and her lover was dancing between them, flushing her skin, making her wet. In moments like this, she saw the pair of them in her mind take on the form of sinewy predators, stalking pleasure together on the vast savannah of their shared imagination and desire. Burton closed his mouth on hers, squeezing her breasts in his hands, his sex rising between her thighs. James slipped behind her, his hands firm on her hips, his lips near her ear. As Burton dropped one of his hands between her legs , opening her wet cunt lips to play with her clit, James waited fro a moment, then said, "Cum for him, darling. Now." And she did, her whole body shuddered, her pelvis thrusting against his hand. Burton smiled, let her go and glanced past her face at James, "Ah, but was she responding to you? or to me?" "Only one way we'll know, " James shrugged. Burton laughed softly again, took Jo's hand and led her towards a low, wide ottoman. He stretched her out, her back flat against it, her throat arched in the firelight, head tilting a bit off one end, knelt down and opened her legs wide, ready to go down on her... and grinned, "You've got a bet." The second she felt his hot tongue start to work on her clit, Jo knew she was in trouble. He was good with his mouth, and knew it, and for all her control, she did have a body and it did want to give in and respond. It was only physical, completely bereft of the powerful surge of electrical energy that made sex with her lover so intoxicating. But the energy was there, because the game was on, the challenge was as much between Jo and James as it was between the two men. he was daring her to disobey, and she was always tempted because the specter of his punishments loomed so delicious over her. She knew he would never, ever harm her in any way; but he had and would push her limits, overwhelm her with intensity, make new demands that would shatter barriers, reveal to her to him more intimately, challenge her physically, emotionally, psychologically. But the same demands could also be a reward.. the difference was only a shift of consciousness, a mutually-agreed upon play on words, spicing sex with the condiments of expectation or dread, depending upon their taste, their momentary hunger, their whim. her wetness, the flush of her skin, her female scent, her body's willingness to respond, drove Burton to use all of his oral skills, which were prodigious. Jo felt her muscles tighten, her breathing quicken, and the familiar molten fire race through her veins. James knelt beside her head, watching, knowing the signals her body was sending. "Don't you dare," he whispered, his voice commanding, hard-edged. She held back, fought her body, fought her desire to win and to lose, swam in the excruciating tension they all produced in her. A powerful tongue plunged in and out of her cunt, teeth clamped down on her swollen clit and held it while the tongue flickered and caressed, sucked and licked. She was stretched taut, a wire wanting to be struck, screaming silently to release in a clear, resonant tone. Then her lover did the unexpected, really the unthinkable. He pulled her head down over the edge of the ottoman and, while the ravenous mouth continued to assault her clit and fingers plunged into her cunt and ass, she felt her lover's rock hard cock brush her lips, his strong hands hold her face as he started fucking her mouth. he was pushing her, he knew he was, and she was suddenly terrified she'd lose all control. "Don't you dare, " he said again, "Not for him, not for me, nit until I say it... " and he fucked her mouth slowly, the way he knew made her cum in a second, in waves, and her whole body began to shake. Did he want her to lose so he could exact some fantastic and pleasurable erotic retribution later? Or did he want to show off the impossible command he had over her mind, heart and body? She couldn't tell, and she couldn't ask because his cock was filling her mouth with cum and everything in her wanted to respond , to explode with him, she wanted to scream. And now she felt the other mount her, ramming his cock into her cunt, who was he, she couldn't even remember, she was blind, deaf and dumb, falling into the depths of her body, trying to contain the inevitable eruption. She knew she couldn't contain it any longer. "No..." her lover's voice intruded, sharp and cold, or was it... daring her to disobey? She heard the other man cry out, felt his hot liquid shoot inside her, heard him gasp something about giving up. Her lover lifted her shoulders, leaned her against his chest, reached around and cupped her breasts as of holding a trophy on display. Burton looked up from between her still open legs. James held his gaze for an instant, then spoke to Jo. "Cum, you little bitch." She let go, and her body convulsed in his arms as the most incredible orgasm she'd ever experienced raged through her releasing the unbearable tensions, piecing her like a volley of arrows shot from some fantastic crossbow. She grabbed him, and clutched him, letting herself drown in wave after wave, until finally, inevitably, she collapsed against him and felt his strong arms go 'round her, hold her, felt him rock her ever so gently...as Burton dressed and slipped way, leaving a crisp $100 bill behind... The Bet and the Gangbang (Another story about my wife Heather and a sequel to Seduced by the Game.) * Six months had passed since I lured my wife Heather into an incredible night of sex with our friends Larry and Kath. I had hoped it would become a regular thing and perhaps if Larry had stayed around it would have. I suspect Heather didn't in fact need much encouragement to have sex with Larry and would have gladly let him take her often. Sadly, not long after our special dinner party, Larry was offered an excellent promotion in his company which involved a transfer half way across the country. With Larry and Kath out of the picture, Heather didn't seem keen to allow another man, or woman, access to her pussy. The excitement in our sex life peaked for a couple of weeks after the game but then slowly settled back to what it was before, which is still pretty good. Don't get me wrong. I love Heather's sweet face, deep dark eyes and brown curly hair. I love her slightly plump, curvaceous little body, her generous breasts and responsive nipples, her little round tummy, her sumptuous ass. I love the completely unselfconscious expressions she gets as she climaxes, quickly and often. If you wanted a model for the part of a sex elf it would be Heather. After six years of married life, Heather (now 28) and I are very much in love and our sex life is enjoyable, just a little routine. For Heather that's fine. She's the sort of person who could go to an ice cream parlour offering 48 flavours and happily settle for vanilla. She's quite content with regular sex even after experiencing the intense orgasmic ecstasy of sex with Larry. But for me vanilla sex, even lots of it, isn't enough. I still crave darker, more decadent and dangerous flavours. Strangely, having an affair doesn't tempt me. I had plenty of screwing around before I married Heather, my little virgin wife. Now all my sexuality was focussed on her. I wanted to see her sexuality grow and develop in thrilling new directions. I was sure if I could coax her down these paths, she would experience mind-blowing sexual passion like never before. But how to do it? Pete was an editor at the television station where I worked. Although we were very different guys we got on well and on quieter shifts would often talk for hours. Although he was several years younger, Pete had vastly more confidence and experienced with women than I. I don't know what it was about Pete that made him such a babe magnet. He was a big guy, carrying a bit too much weight round the middle who seemed to treat women with complete disregard. He was generous and affable with his male friends but offhand with women. Perhaps that was his secret... the way he gave off an "I couldn't care less about you" vibe. Whatever it was Pete always had several women on the go at once... attractive young women. He referred to them as his stable of nags. His expression, not mine! Pete and I often talked very frankly about sex... usually about his exploits and narrow escapes but on this particular night shift we got to talking about Heather and my dissatisfaction with our pedestrian sex life. Peter could hardly believe his ears. "So let me get this straight.. you've got a sexy little wife who's hot to trot (again his expression) and she's completely into you.. for some strange reason... " Pete grinned. "And you want her to be fucked by other guys? Mate, you need your head read." I should have mentioned Pete was Australian. I tried to explain my need for a more racy sex life, my desire to have Heather's own sexuality become stronger, not so reliant on mine. "Well"says Pete "Everybody's got their kinks I guess. I'll fuck her for you. I saw her at the last staff do remember. She's hot mate. Cute face, great tits, nice ass. Yeah, I'll bang her if you like. My place or yours?" "But the trouble is she doesn't want to do it again. Last time my friend and I came up with a plan that worked perfectly. She ended up fucking Larry and loving it. But now she's gone back to the same old, same old. " "So you need a plan to get her going again.. fucking other guys.. a cunning ruse." "Yep, but I've got nothing." "Well I've got a plan that could work. I'll throw a party at my place, get all my mates along. We'll get her drunk or stoned or both and one of them is sure to root her." Pete's parties were legendary - copious amounts of alcohol and very potent weed - unbridled sex - and numerous comatose bodies lying around the next morning. His mates were also notorious. There was one old school friend who Pete held up as a paragon of manhood. I met him once at the bar he and Pete co owned. Don was tall, good looking, wealthy and an arrogant ass-hole, but like Pete he was extremely successful with women, especially charming them into one night stands and discarding them afterwards. They were so dazzled they couldn't see his real nature. Don's great boast to Pete, after one brief sexual encounter with some sweet naive young woman was "Pete... I didn't even have to kiss her!" In spite of the formidable reputation of Pete's parties and the prowess of his mates I was sceptical. "Pete you don't know Heather. She won't do it. She had no sex at all before we were married and apart from Larry, she hasn't looked at another guy in six years. Even if I can get her to the party it's not going to happen." "You want a bet mate? You get along to my party, maybe loosen her up a bit first, and one of my mates'll take care of her. Guaranteed. Like Don - you know Don - not a woman alive who won't let his great big dong into her panties." He could see I was still not convinced. "Tell you what...let's put a bottle of scotch on it... top shelf single malt. If some guy fucks your little Heather you have to buy him the scotch. But if she gets through the night without being fucked, I'll shout you the bottle. How's that?" "Seems a bit crass..." "Nah, come on mate... if you're as sure as you say about Heather's restraint.... then put your money where your mouth is. Stump up or shut up. Tell you what.. let's throw in a dozen premium beers for the second guy to do her. Third, fourth, fifth and so on don't get nothing Ok?" Now Pete was annoying me. "Ok, you're on. It's not going to happen but I'm happy to take your scotch and your beers... and watch your mates crash and burn. But I've got two conditions - one - there's no forcing Heather to do anything she doesn't want to. It's got to be her choice.. right? " Pete nodded. "And two... if something does happen.. which it won't.. your guys have got to use protection. I don't want Heather catching anything?" "Fair enough mate.. sweet.. so we got ourselves a bet." We shook hands on the deal. "No worries mate. We'll make it a toga party. Yeah.. a toga party. You get hot little Heather along in a toga and we'll do the business. Don't you worry." Pete's party was organized for the Saturday night just over three weeks away. I mentioned it to Heather, casually, as we were going to bed. "You remember Pete from work?... He's invited us to a party at his place... Saturday night, the 18th. Lots of people from work'll be there and I think I should go. But you don't need to come if you don't want to." I climbed into bed. Heather emerged from the bathroom wearing a simple but sexy white satin nightie. She slipped into bed beside me and cuddled up. "Why wouldn't I want to go?" "Well... big noisy party, lots of people you don't know, drinking, dancing..." "You know I love dancing.. and I don't mind meeting new people. That's more you than me." "Pete's parties have a reputation for getting pretty....ah... lively. And it's a toga party... everybody dressed up like ancient Romans" "Sounds like fun... but if you don't want me there..." I interrupted Heather by kissing her sensuously at the base of her neck. "Of course I want you there. I'm very very proud of you and I love showing you off. You know I do. Watching the other guys get jealous. I just don't want you to get bored." "It doesn't sound boring at all... from what you've said." I rolled over onto my side so I was facing her and put my right arm around her shoulders. "How about....we put in an appearance and check it out. If it's too boring.. or too rowdy we can leave but if you're enjoying yourself we can stay as long as you like." "Ok.. that sounds great..." I drew her in closer. "Tell you what could be fun.. we put on our togas and go along.. have a couple of drinks.. do a bit of dancing.. then come home and have our own little Roman orgy... as I strip off your sexy little toga... " At this point Heather felt my erection touching her and grabbed it, grinning wickedly. "Well well.. what's this...? It seems the orgy's starting a bit early." The prospect of Heather at the party and the possibility of losing the bet had me extremely turned on. Helen responded to my enthusiasm and the next 40 minutes or so passed very quickly and pleasantly. As the party approached I teased Heather about it, asking her if she was ready for the orgy, or if she knew what was expected of Roman slave girls - that sort of thing. We had some nice little fantasies about it in bed with some very hot love making as a result. I managed to get hold of two Roman outfits from slightly seedy costume shop. My toga was simple and traditional, looking very much like a gathered bed sheet. Heather's was also simple but super sexy. It was called Caesar girl - you can find it on line - a little white dress, one shoulder completely bare, a deeply plunging neckline, which would show off Heather's large breasts extremely well and a pleated skirt that ended three or four inches above the knee. There was a golden plated belt which went underneath the bust and a gold border round the bottom of the skirt. It came with those sandals that have criss-cross straps up the calf. I've always found those erotic. When it arrived of course I asked Heather to model it. She looked sensational. I complimented her profusely and needless to say the toga was soon around her ankles. Heather was worried that the toga was too revealing to wear in public. I reassured her. We wouldn't be in public. We'd be in a private house where everyone would be in costume. What I didn't tell her was that she looked like every guy's wet dream. The little white toga showed off her full figure to perfection, revealing lots of luscious cleavage and shapely leg. She looked like a seductive sex package just waiting to be unwrapped. I spoke briefly with Pete on the Friday before the party. "It's all set mate. Lots of people said they'd come and a lot more'll just turn up. And I've primed up about a dozen of me mates. They're keen to take the bet. Keen as mustard. Mind you, the real action is in the side betting." That took me by surprise. "The side betting?" "Yeah. I tried to get the guys to bet on whether your little wifey would get fucked or not. But nobody would bet that she wouldn't. So I ended up running a sweepstake on how many guys would get into her... anything between 1 and 50. Most of the guys are betting around 6. You want a piece of that?" I shook my head. I wan't sure what to feel. Guys betting on how many of them would fuck my wife tomorrow night and all so confident it would happen. Part of me wanted my Heather to prove them all wrong. The bottle of scotch and the beers would sweeten that outcome, which I still believed was the most likely,although my belief was starting to waver. Another part of me still powerfully wanted my wife to succumb and willingly allow at least one or two guys to take her. Overall I found the situation so arousing that I had to visit the nearest toilet to relieve the urgent pressure in my pants. And then it was Saturday, with the usual round of domestic chores. Heather and I went grocery shopping together at the local supermarket. All very normal. I cooked us dinner, which I usually do in the weekends. I poached some fish in a lemon sauce... delicious and light on the stomach. We washed it down with a soft Riesling. I made sure Heather had a couple of glasses. After the meal, at my suggestion, Heather had a nice, relaxing bath while I cleared up in the kitchen. It was almost time. Up in our bedroom we made ourselves ready. Heather helped me arrange my bed sheet. She looked so adorable, wrapped in a towel, still a little pink from the bath. Then she put on her toga. She couldn't wear a bra with it.. even a strapless bra would have been visible... but the golden cord which I wrapped around her, gave her big breasts some support. As she went to put on panties I snatched them out of her hand. "No panties tonight. They're anachronistic. Romans didn't have underwear." "But this skirt is so short. Gimmie..." I held her panties out of her reach overhead. "Come on, we'll both go commando.. no one will know but us.. it'll be exciting. Get you more turned on for later when I get you home." With a show of reluctance Heather agreed. It wasn't the first time I had coaxed her to go out in public with no underwear. She found it a fierce turn on, but it had never been while she was wearing an outfit as skimpy as this one. Driving to the party the sight of Heather sitting there in that revealing costume, her gorgeous breasts almost spilling out of the top, her skirt riding up her thighs, knowing she was naked underneath, put a huge tent in my toga. I forced myself to breath deeply and relax. I couldn't arrive at Pete's party looking like the Roman general.. Maximus Erectus. We were met at the door by Pete in a magnificent toga and a very pretty young woman dressed in a Xena warrior princess outfit. We were commanded to kneel at the feet of Caesar while Pete poured a shot of vodka into our open mouths. This position gave Pete and excellent view down the front of Heather's costume, which he clearly appreciated. He gave me a sly wink. "Welcome to the party folks... hope you have a great time. BET you do!" Pete's house was modern and spacious but there were a lot of people. I led Heather through to the open kitchen and dining area where a generous selection of food and drinks were laid out. Heather and I helped ourselves to a drink and some finger food. I couldn't eat. There was too much excitement tying my stomach in knots. I introduced Heather to some of my colleagues. While we were chatting I noticed a number of guys, presumably Pete's mates, checking Heather out, making muttered comments to each other. Judging from their expressions they wouldn't have needed the inducement of a bet to make their moves on my wife. But after maybe half an hour chatting in the kitchen, nothing had happened. I asked Heather if she wanted to dance, which of course she did. We went through to the living room. It was an odd sight... lots of people dancing to modern music in their Roman costumes. The sound system was excellent, the music too loud and the lights nicely dimmed. Heather and I danced our way through couple of up tempo tracks before a slower number came on. This was much more my style. I drew Heather in close and ran my hands over the thin fabric of her costume. Bending down, I kissed her bare shoulder. Heather responded by pressing herself against my body, moving her hips, rubbing against the growing bulge in my toga. Just as taking Heather home was feeling like an attractive idea, a deep voice came from behind me. "You don't mind if I cut in." It was Don, dressed like a gladiator and carrying it off all too well. His costume consisted of a short leather kilt and a few straps which left his chest bare and showed off his impressive physique. Without giving me a chance to reply, Don stepped in and took Heather in his arms, slow dancing with her as if they had known each other for years. I backed away to give them space. I managed to find a space against the wall where I could still see them but hopefully wouldn't be noticed. It was easy to spot Don. At 6'4" he stood well above the rest of the dancers. Most of the time I couldn't see my little wife at all. The track finished and another slow song began. I moved around the edge of the room until I could see more of Don and Heather through the crowd. My heart starting thumping. Don had his hands on Heather's ass but they were under her short toga. Obviously he had discovered her lack of panties and was fondling my wife's naked ass. Other dancers blocked my view so I moved again until I could see them. Don had manoeuvred Heather behind a big couch. As I watched he effortlessly lifted her on to the back of the couch then moved in close to her. It took me a moment to realize what was happening. Don was now standing between Heather's open legs and was either about to enter her or was inside her already. Just like that, so quickly, another man had taken my wife... and it was Don dammit! Primarily I felt the hot excitement of seeing Heather being fucked by another guy, right here in public. But another part of me felt annoyed that I had lost the bet to an arrogant prick like Don. I decided I'd buy him a bottle of Laphroaig -the one scotch I really dislike. The dancers parted giving me a better view. Yes, Don was undoubtedly driving himself into Heather. She had her legs wrapped around him and they were kissing, passionately. Well I guess that was something different for Don. I had made it way too easy for him. Heather was a little drunk, probably nicely wet from my dance with her and naked under her short skirt. All Don had to do was raise his kilt and slip it in. As I watched, Don lifted Heather down and led her out of the room. I followed at a distance. Don had his arm around her and she was leaning against him, looking up at him, not looking around for me. From the doorway of the living room I watched Don lead her down the hall and into a room, presumably a bedroom near the back of the house. Clearly Don wanted more from my wife than a quick conquest. I needed a drink. Back in the kitchen I stood on the edge of a group of work friends barely listening to the conversation, most of my mind imagining what was going on in that bedroom. After 20 minutes or so I had to check. As I went down the hall, not Don but Pete emerged from the bedroom with a big smirk on his face. "Hey mate.. you owe Don a scotch... and guess what... I get the beers." Pete laughed. "Ya know I almost feel bad about taking them. She's a great root that little wifey of yours.. sweet as a peach. But a bet's a bet. And I tell you what mate..." Pete gestured to four of his mates entering the bedroom, with another two not far behind. "The way your Heather's going the sweepstake winner's gonna be a punter who betted high." Pete went off chuckling. I realized now they'd had it all arranged. Don, the champion spadesman (another Pete expression) would take Heather first, followed by Pete and then his other mates. But how many of his mates were in on the plan? I opened the bedroom door and slipped in. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light I could see a large bed surrounded six men. Most had stripped from the waist down. I could see a few had their cocks out and were sporting eager erections. I moved closer to where I could see Heather on the bed. She was completely naked. She had a cock in her mouth and was holding another with her left hand, stroking it when she remembered. Hands were squeezing her breasts and pulling her nipples. Another of Pete's mates was fucking Heather vigorously his big hairy ass pumping and shaking, not a pretty sight. He stopped, having climaxed inside my wife's pussy, pulled out and was immediately replaced by another keen player, who slammed his hard cock into Heather with no hesitation at all. After a few minutes of frantic thrusting he came just as quickly. I swear he was done in less than four minutes. The Bet and the Gangbang The next batter stepped up and then the next. These two both lasted a lot longer and I was overjoyed to see Heather climax dramatically with both of them. The guy Heather had been sucking off came copiously in her mouth and she bravely did her best to swallow his load, something she has never done with me. I glanced at my watch in amazement. In the past fifty minutes my Heather had raised her tally of sexual partners from two - Larry and I - to nine, if you counted the blow job. Number ten, the guy who had been enjoying the hand job finished his turn inside my wife with a lot of groaning and shouting, mostly the words god, fuck and yes. I went to the side of the bed and stroked Heather's hair. She turned to me with a slightly dazed smile. There was cum on her chin and a sheen of sweat on her body but she still looked incredibly inviting. "Are you Ok honey?" She nodded. "Having fun?" She nodded again. "Do you want to go home now?" "Not yet." Not yet. Those two words gave me a savage jolt of pleasure. My darling little wife had just been used by ten men, mostly strangers and she still she wanted more. I couldn't believe it. I bent down and kissed her lips, which felt hot and puffy. I tried not to think that I was tasting another guy's cum on them. Even while I was kissing Heather I felt another guy shove his cock inside her. She shuddered in pleasure. I looked up. There were more men in the room, a new group of four -no five. These guys weren't in costume. They had obviously come in, uninvited, off the street - younger and rougher looking than Pete's friends. I stood back and watched as number eleven fucked Heather roughly.. his hands grasping her breasts hard. But Heather seemed to enjoy it. Her body arched and shook with another gasping orgasm. As he pulled out I saw that he wasn't wearing a condom and sure enough there was his cum oozing from Heather's pussy. "Let's DP the bitch." The next two guys rolled Heather onto her side. One held her leg high and entered her from the front while the other took my poor wife from the rear. Heather moaned loudly. It was hard to tell whether it was from pleasure or discomfort, possibly both. As far as I could tell these two weren't wearing condoms either. This had gone far enough. As soon as they had finished firing their loads into my wife's unprotected pussy and ass, I stepped in between Heather and the next in line. "Sorry guys, that's it! My wife's had enough. I'm taking her home." The guys, drunk and horny as hell, did not take my announcement well. "The hell you are." "Not till I've had my turn banging the bitch." "Fuck off or we fuck you." This was bad. I'm not a coward but neither am I an experienced fighter. There were four big guys, all desperate to fuck my wife. If I tried to stop them I would undoubtedly be beaten up, which wouldn't help Heather and she might well get hurt in the process. I stepped aside and quickly left the room, to a chorus of jeers. "Wimp out ya pussy!" "This cunt belongs to us now." "I'm taking this little cum slut home.. " Fortunately Pete was in the kitchen, drinking with his mates, not in another room with a girl. His mates all cheered when they saw me but stopped when they saw the look on my face. "Pete...I need your help to get Heather out of there." I quickly explained the situation which Pete took seriously. "No worries mate. We'll get her out." "Come on guys." That last remark from Don and the look of genuine concern on his face made me feel a good deal warmer towards him. Six of us piled into the bedroom. Heather was now in doggy position across the bed, one guy taking her from behind, another, standing, fucking her mouth. Pete was all affable confidence. "Ok you blokes... show's over. Let's give this lady a break. Plenty of other girls at the party." His approach and the presence of a tall, well muscled gladiator convinced the remaining guys to leave with only a few muffled complaints. Pete handed me a coat from his wardrobe and I wrapped it round Heather. After gently cleaning her up in the en suite bathroom, I supported her to the car and we drove home, Heather semi dozing in the seat beside me. I have no idea what happened to her toga. On Monday at work, Pete was very apologetic. He said the bet was off. He wouldn't take the beers and Don didn't want the Scotch. Don said he had great time with Heather, which from Don was high praise indeed. Even the sweepstake was called off because there was no official count. My estimate was twelve or thirteen. Surprisingly Heather was much less bothered about the incident than Pete. When we got home, I put her straight to bed and she was asleep almost immediately. In the morning she was still tired and very tender around her pussy and ass but otherwise was seemed perfectly happy. It turned out she didn't remember much of the evening. She clearly remembered Don fucking her. She described that as "amazing" and his cock as "ginormous" which bothered me considerably. She remembered being fucked by Pete and one or two others. She remembered cumming multiple times but apart from that it was all a bit of a blur. Showered, back in bed and enjoying the brunch that I made for her, Heather looked up at me seriously. "That party was really exciting.. but I don't think I'd want to do it again. Next time I'd just like one guy... like Don." She gave me a cheeky grin. "Maybe two." Fatjackfallstaff.