I enjoy playing golf and have been playing with the same foursome each Saturday for about three years now. It's an easy going bunch of guys with the possible exception of Dave who's somewhat arrogant and seems to always bully the rest of us into playing the game the way he wants to. Despite that, we've all gotten along fine over the last three years in our golf outings. However, sometimes Dave can be quite vexing, like several months ago when he and I were in the 19th hole. We had finished our game and our other two golfing fiends had left when the conversation worked it's way around to sex as it often does with Dave. He has been recently divorced and is the envy of the rest of us married guys, because without a doubt he's getting a lot more and a greater variety of pussy then any of us "long time-marrieds" are! I had asked him how his sex life was and he told me that he has found it's a lot better with married women. At first I wasn't sure what he meant - did he mean he wanted to get married again? When I asked him just that he said,
"Bob, for a guy with a college education, sometimes you can be a total dumbshit."
I like Dave, but as I said he also is a bit abrasive and arrogant. And sometimes he can really get me upset. Dave continued, "when I speak of married pussy, I'm talking about fucking pussies that are married to other men. More times than not, a married woman is dying for a thorough fucking from a real man, not just the weekly ten minute diddle they are used to from their husbands."
"Well, I imagine that there are some dissatisfied wives out there, but as your friend, in this small a community, I can tell you it's a mistake to go around propositioning married woman. You'll end up with, at least a bruised cheek from some women's slap and maybe worse from her hubby."
Dave chuckled, and quickly dismissed my cautions. "Bob, you just don't even have any idea do you? In the past three months, I have approached six different married woman, and I'm batting a thousand. I've concluded that there isn't a married woman out there, if approached properly, who would turn down a extra-marital sexual affair with a good-looking man."
"I don't know what world you've been living in, Dave, but I suspect that if you approached any of the married women that I know your batting average would quickly drop to the point that you would be sent back down to the minors."
"Like who?" Dave stared at me confidently.
I was totally dumbfounded. I didn't expect to be challenged on this point. My mind went blank so I tried to avoid the question. "Look, Dave, you know damn well that there are a lot of very faithful wives living in the suburbs that you would never be able to get into the sack."
"Who?" Dave wasn't going to let the question slide.
Without really thinking it through, I just blurted out, "Well my wife, Donna for one!"
Donna and I have been married for almost fourteen years, with two kids to show for the venture. In all that time, I've never had any reason to suspect Donna in any extra-marital activities. First of all, Donna is rather conservative when it comes to sex. Pretty much straight intercourse, with very rare oral sex, and certainly no anal. From the perspective of frequency, we will usually have sex 3 or 4 times a month. I knew that Donna would never stray. In fact, when we meet she was only 16 and four years later when we married, she was still a virgin. (Not that I didn't try, but with her strong Catholic background she kept reminding me that she was saving it for our marriage- something which I was forced to respect)
Dave smirked at my statement and said, "Well Donna might be a challenge."
Dave had met Donna at a few social functions held by our country club. But as far as I knew, certainly, nothing -not even flirting- had occurred between them. Donna is always the epitome of propriety. Not that she isn't strikingly beautiful, but she masks her 5 foot, six inch, 122 lbs. frame and 36-24-37 figure in expensive and conservative attire. One of my unspoken complaints has always been that Donna's delectable ass and ample tits are never displayed in a manner befitting its magnificence. Of course, her dark reddish, long hair is always perfectly groomed and frames her high cheek-bones, pouty lips and ivory skin.
"Bob," Dave shook his head in a condescending fashion, "do you really think for a moment that Donna hasn't fucked around on you?"
Not wanting to give any credence to Dave's outrageous suggestion, I tried to remain composed when I confidently replied, "I know she has never cheated and would never cheat. That's why your hypothesis about married pussy is so wrong."
"Well, Bob, if Donna hasn't taken on any other men, it's only because she has never been presented with the right opportunity or the right man"
"Sure, sure, Dave, whatever you say..." My cynical response only served to heighten Dave's competitive nature.
"Look, I'll prove it to you if you doubt me...but its got to be a fair test. You can't purposefully intervene or interfere. You just give me a reasonable chance to prove my point without letting Donna know that's something's up, I'll admit I'm wrong if I fail. This was like taking candy from a baby I thought. Yet, I recognized that Dave is a shrewd man and I didn't want any curves in this deal. "What happens if your right?" I had to ask.
"See, your already afraid that I'm right! A second ago, you thought I was full of shit....I'll tell you what I'll make it an easy wager. If I'm right, And to make it interesting lets place a little wager on it. Say about $100." He continued on by saying, "But you have to agree not to interfere and let what ever happens to happen. OK? "
I said "Deal." and wondered why I had.
For some unexplainable reason, I looked at Donna differently that night as she emerged from the shower. I wondered how she would react to Dave coming on to her. I wondered whether her nipples would become erect in response to his flirting, whether her pussy would involuntarily lubricate. As I daydreamed about the possible scenarios, I suddenly imagined Donna naked, laying on her back, her legs spread wide, bucking her pelvis wildly to meet the thrusts of Dave's invading cock. Certainly, I had never witnessed such a scene when Donna and I make love. Although I had never conceived of Donna doing such things before that night, the thought of her illicitly having sex with another man had this strange reaction on me. Instead of being totally enraged at such thoughts, it actually was getting me sexually aroused to the point where my dick was ROCK hard!
That night I attacked Donna with a fervor. I wanted to reassure myself of my potency. But, Donna reacted as always, reservedly and in control. Even though I fucked her with what I thought was superhuman intensity, she laid there, moving slowly, waiting for me to finish. At the ordained moment, Donna reached up and began to fondle my balls and the sensitive skin between my scrotum and asshole. Donna knows that this sensation always sends me over the edge. Even though I desperately wanted to hold off until her belly rippled with an orgasm, the sensation was too great, and at the last moment, the image in my mind returned to Dave slamming his dick into Donna's cunt. I climaxed violently and collapsed. With her normal grace, Donna slipped out from under me and rolled over to go to sleep. Yet, for me, these unsettling images continued, until I too fell into a deep sleep.
For the next week, I continued to be haunted by these perverse images of Dave and Donna in the throes of all varieties of sexual couplings. I found myself masturbating with a fervor that I hadn't known since adolescence. Since we only play golf on Saturdays, I hadn't talked to Dave again during this time frame. I thought that maybe it had just been a lot of male talk and that when I saw Dave for our normal game Saturday, that neither of us would even mention it. However, I had a little surprise on Friday night, which was the evening for a little cocktail party at our Country Club.
My wife and I headed out on Friday evening to the cocktail party at our Country Club to welcome in new members that had joined in the last year. It was a typically staid affair, with all the wives parading in their diamonds and designer duds. The husbands, with their fat wallets and brokerage accounts, sucked down fine whiskey while sharing off-color jokes about their bimbo secretaries and catered to the new members to show off their knowledge of the club and the golf course.
Donna was in her element. She was dressed impeccably in a black, backless number bearing some French designer's moniker. Actually, it was rather unusual for Donna, for it displayed her cleavage and a healthy dose of leg. Of course, Donna had a unique way of looking classy and not the least bit sensual in whatever she wore.
After a couple of vodka and tonics, I was startled by Dave's booming voice. It was quite a surprise since Dave normally eschewed these saree's.
"Dave, what the Hell are you doing here?"
"Bob, you cynical bastard! I'm here because I care deeply about welcoming our new members into the club." Then Dave smirked, and in a quite voice said: "You know, Bob, I've changed my take on these quarterly cocktail parties. While I still believe that the vast majority of pussies present haven't had a good ploughing in the last decade, I've concluded that this fact presents someone like me with endless possibilities."
"God, Dave, you are such a complete predator!" I replied.
With that comment, Dave glanced over towards Donna, who was engaged in some banal conversation with the hostess of the party, and remarked: "So, speaking of cunts yearning to be filled, how's our little girl, Bob?"
Flushed with anger and indignance, all I could muster was: "Fuck you, asshole!"
"Now, now, Bobby boy, remember our wager. Besides you're so confident about Donna's fidelity that there's nothing to worry about, right?"
With that, Dave made a beeline towards Donna. On the one hand, I felt like intervening. On the other, I truly wanted the vindication of Donna spurning Dave's base advances. In the end, I drowned my indecision in more vodka and tonic, especially as I wasn't really certain that Donna would reject Dave's advances. After all he was a hell of a good looking rugged guy and he had a smooth glib line with the ladies when he wanted to. As the evening wore on, my stomach felt oddly queasy. This feeling was exacerbated every time I lost sight of Donna. Yet, throughout, I could not ignore the aching in my balls that was somewhere between pain and pleasure.
To my frustration, Dave had succeeded in cornering Donna into a long one on one conversation. This was quite surprising since Donna was notorious for her ability to work a crowd. Many times, people would come up to Donna and apparently interject themselves into the conversation. Normally, Donna would use the interruption as an opportunity to move on. At the very least, Donna would always graciously welcome the new party into the discourse. Yet, on this evening, Donna's body language caused the interlopers to move on after only a comment or two, leaving her and Dave to themselves.
Finally, the event was coming to an end, and the caterers began to pack up. Donna remained clearly in sight, and fully clothed, albeit in conversation with Dave. At last, I felt a sense of relief and victory, as Donna left Dave and walked over to me. My elation was short-lived, however.
"Honey, I don't feel like calling it a night yet. Dave's invited us to join him for drinks and dancing at a nightclub. What do you say, it'll be fun, especially after you've had to put up with this boring purgatory for hours."
I had no choice but to agree. I certainly couldn't beg off and tell that I had wagered her fidelity for some silly bet between some golfing friends. Likewise, I would be breaching the deal with Dave if I interfered.
"Sure, honey, that sounds great." While I was less than enthusiastic, I rationalized away the risk that Dave might actually succeed. After all Donna had done nothing improper, yet.
Perhaps ill advisedly, I had more vodka and tonics when we reached the nightclub. The dim lights and smokey air of the club further clouded my self induced alcoholic haze. The loud music also rang in my ears and distorted the conversation. Dave had strategically sat next to Donna in the booth, relegating me to the other side of the table. My inability to make out or participate in the dialogue heightened my paranoia.
Dave was chatting up Donna with aplomb, and had even maneuvered his arm around her shoulder. When it came time for dancing, I was in no condition to spell Donna from Dave's devious onslaught. Aside from my agreement not to intercede, my coordination was completely shot from the drinking and I was in no shape to dance. I had to leave all the dancing of my sexy wife Donna to Dave!
At first, it was fast dancing, leaving Dave little opportunity for bodily contact. However, late in the evening, the music slowed and Dave pressed himself close to Donna. My senses may have been dulled, or my paranoia rampant, but I could swear that I saw Donna grinding her belly into Dave's bulging groin. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself, but as I downed my fifth vodka and tonic, I began to visualize illicit pictures of Dave fucking Donna ferociously with Donna bucking back like a thousand dollar slut.
When Dave and Donna had danced their way to the most remote and dark corner of the dance floor they were just out of my range of viability. Not knowing what was going on between them was driving me crazy and I moved from out table to a point closer to where they were but positioned in a position that they couldn't really see me. Even with my closer vantage point, I couldn't be absolutely sure (and the alcohol didn't help my perceptions any) but I could swear that I saw Dave and Donna engaged in a french kiss while Dave slowly stroke her ass and fondled the sides of her breasts. I returned to my seat to steady myself and try to rationalize what I had seen. By the time they returned, I wasn't sure that I had seen them engaged so sexually or whether my imagination and alcohol induced state had conjured up an unreal image for my sexual fantasies to feast upon.
Blessedly, closing time finally arrived. As we staggered to the door, I surrendered to Donna the keys to the car. Dave said something about a nightcap at his place and, for an instant, my heart stopped. But, for some reason, Donna declined. I poured myself into the leather passenger seat of our BMW. Before Donna got in she said "Ooops, just a second I think I left something in the club."
I was able to watch Donna in the passenger rearview mirror as she walked back to the club. But, she didn't go in. Instead, she went up to Dave as he was unlocking the door to his Caddy. Again, they kissed, this time I was sure about it... but not very long though. I could see Donna and Dave exchange brief words. With a sly smile, Dave placed his hand on Donna's right tit as she turned to walk back to the car.
Donna made a little small talk on the drive home, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Although my cock was turgid all evening long, the alcohol caused me to elect sleep over a desperately needed fuck once we got home. Yet, during the night, I slept fitfully, awakening often. At least twice, I heard Donna breathing heavily and the rhythmic sound of her hand vigorously at work between her legs.
The next day, was a little rough for my golf game. I lost as usual to Dave's superior play. And while he kidded me about really tieing one on last night, he mercifully didn't mention any of the details of our little outing to the other two guys in our golf foursome. Again after the game Dave and I lingered around after the other two guys had left. I knew he'd now say something about last night, but I hoped that he would simply take pleasure in the fact that he had groped my wife, and let the "wager" drop. But, this hope was dashed almost immediately.
"Bobby boy! You must be feeling fairly bad after all that booze last night. Funny without any drinks at all, I was "feeling" real good last night, if you catch my drift."
The sinking feeling in my stomach again sank in, and I could actually feel my manhood shrink.
"Look," I implored, "why don't we just call the bet a draw"
Try as I might, Dave wouldn't let me out of the bet we had made - the foolish bet I had made that he wouldn't be able to seduce my wife into giving him sex. It looked now to me that he just might be able to do it and I wanted to end the bet before he actually did get my wife in the sack. As we sat in the 19th hole his words to me where, "No go, Bobby. That wouldn't be very sporting. Especially after all my hard work. But, I'll tell you what: Let me try to ask Donna out alone just once. If she turns me down, I'll yield the point."
"Okay. It's a deal." I reluctantly agreed, believing that Donna would never risk being seen alone, in public, with Dave.
Dave was smirking like a cat with canary feathers hanging out of its mouth.
"What the hell are you smiling about!"
"Well, Bob, I forgot to share one little fact before you agreed: I already asked and Donna accepted. We're going out next Friday night."
I felt as if I was going to explode and it all came into place for me now. That morning, as I was preparing for my golf match, Donna had asked me if I had any plans next Friday night so that I could watch the kids because she was going to have a girl's night out with her best friend, Kathy. We had allowed one another "night's out" since our last child was born as a method of preserving our sanity. I never dreamed that Donna might use this arrangement to fool around on me. Of course, Dave could be bullshitting me. I wouldn't put that above him.
"Tell you what Bob," Dave continued, "at the end of the evening I'll give you a call to let you know that Donna's on the way home and if you owe me for the bet!"
I had a whole week to think about what my wife might be doing with Dave on Friday and I alternated between angry to sexually excited about the prospects of my previously prim proper wife yielding her body to my golfing buddy Dave.
When I got home Friday evening from work, Donna was busily getting ready to go out. But, she didn't act or dress any differently than on other occasions. I rationalized that Dave was simply torturing me, and that Donna was really going out with Kathy.
"On the way out the door, Donna gave my her traditional peck, and said: "Kathy and I are going to catch that new French film and maybe go out for dinner and drinks afterwards. It's a three hour movie, so I'll probably be late... no need to wait up."
Initially, ignorance was bliss. I chose to disregard Dave's boastfulness and, instead, trust Donna's honesty. Yet, once I put the kids down, my mind began to wander. A combination of jealousy and uncertainty gnawed at my brain. But, at the same time, I felt bad about doubting Donna.
By 10:30 PM, my stomach became unsettled in the same fashion as the night before when Donna and Dave were on the dance floor. By 11:30 PM, my paranoia overcame reason and I thought about ways to confirm Donna's fidelity.
So, in a very silly manner, I called Kathy's telephone number. Embarrassed, I almost hang up after the second ring, but then a groggy voice answered "hello". It was unmistakably Kathy's voice, and it sounded as if I had awakened her from a deep sleep. Flabbergasted, I set down the receiver without saying a word.
To my ironic dismay, I had proven that I wasn't paranoid. Donna was out with Dave!
As midnight eased into the early morning hours, my mental imagery was torture. I would alternate between fantasies of Dave fucking Donna in all different positions, with fantasies of Donna resolutely turning down Dave's advances, saying "No, I'm a married woman!"
Tellingly, my cock was rock hard as I imagined Dave ploughing into Donna's pussy. With guilty perversion, I stroked myself to an incredible orgasm, which brought on sleep.
Suddenly, I awoke with the sound of the telephone. I looked at the clock; it was 2:26 AM! I answered it after the second ring and was greeted by Dave's booming voice as soon as I had said hello, "Donna has been well fucked, my friend, and she's on her way home to you." With that he hung up and I just stared in disbelief at the phone for several moments. As I sat the phone down, my reaction was a strange one - all I could see in my mind was my wife getting "well fucked" as Dave had put it. My cock was rock hard and already trembling as I reached down to stroke it. It took only two short pumps and my cock erupted!
There I laid in the dark. My belly covered with my own cum. Yet, I still wondered whether Dave was intentionally torturing me. After all, this was hardly evidence that Donna had succumbed to Dave's seduction. At most, it merely suggested that Dave and Donna had been together. While their being together was not particularly comforting, it certainly didn't prove infidelity.
So, I waited for Donna to get home.
She arrived about fifteen minutes after Dave's telephone call. Donna slipped into the bedroom without turning on the light. Apparently, she thought I was asleep and I encouraged the notion by snoring slightly. She seemed somewhat unsteady on her feet, perhaps the result of a little too much alcohol. It was dark, but I did see her REMOVE HER PANTIES FROM HER PURSE! That was fairly strong evidence that she indeed had removed them at some point during the evening for Dave's benefit. If I had any remaining doubts that she hadn't gone "all the way" with David they were quickly removed as Donna climbed into bed naked. I could smell alcohol on her breath and, I think, Dave's cologne in her hair. She rolled over towards me, and kissed me, deeply thrusting her tongue in my mouth. Her lips were loose and her saliva flowed freely all over my cheeks and chin. Donna had never kissed me in such a wanton and messy fashion before. The taste of alcohol was unmistakable, but mixed in were flavors with which I was unfamiliar. I don't know if it was the alcohol, but when Donna finally withdrew her lips, my face was coated with a sticky and slimy residue.
Before I could fully assess the situation, Donna grabbed the back of my hair with both hands and forcefully guided my head underneath the sheets. My cheek brushed her left nipple which was erect and harder than I had ever experienced. Donna kept pushing my head until I was between her legs. This was quite out of the norm; Donna had never demanded oral sex before. If I went down on her, it was always at my instigation.
There I was in the darkness, under the covers. For all intents and purposes, I was blind. Yet, my other senses were heightened. The aroma emanating from Donna's crotch was pungent. It was the same odor I remembered from her soiled panties, only intensified. There were squishing sounds coming from her pussy, and she was murmuring, "yessssss." to me!.
Impatiently, Donna ground my face into her groin. I could feel a hot, slimy, sticky pool of fluids soaking her pubic hair and cradled by the folds of her spread labia. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and extended my tongue into the void between her thighs. The opening to Donna's vagina was enormous. It seemed wide enough to consume my nose, mouth and chin. My tongue caught a huge glob of the flow which oozed from her cunt. The strong taste was foreign to me: tart and salty with a tinge of the musky flavor of Donna's vaginal juices.
Now there was no denying it. I was swallowing the semen Dave's cock had deposited deep in my wife's pussy. You would think that being a strong heterosexual all my life, that I should be revolted. But, my rigid dick and throbbing balls said otherwise. With a fervor, I began tonguing Donna's swollen and pussy lips seeking to savor the remnants that had already escaped from her cunt. I sucked what seemed like a endless stream of semen from the depths of her vagina. All the while Donna moaned and rocked her pelvis against my jaw. I heard myself whimpering with satisfaction as if I were a suckling infant taking nourishment from a mother's tit.
Time and time again, I tried to extend my tongue and swab Donna's cervix, but I couldn't. Dave's dick must have been not only thick as a redwood but long as one. He must have pounded Donna's cervix well up into her belly.
After Donna had thrilled in orgasm, a thicker flow of cum poured forth. I lapped it up and became to wonder if Dave's sperm had made its way into Donna's womb. Even though I knew Donna was on the pill, the thought of Dave's virile seed swimming in search of one of Donna's eggs, sent me over the edge. Without even touching myself, I came again, my semen pooling on the mattress as I continued to coax every drop of Dave's semen from my wife's folds.
"Bob, for a guy with a college education, sometimes you can be a total dumbshit."
I like Dave, but as I said he also is a bit abrasive and arrogant. And sometimes he can really get me upset. Dave continued, "when I speak of married pussy, I'm talking about fucking pussies that are married to other men. More times than not, a married woman is dying for a thorough fucking from a real man, not just the weekly ten minute diddle they are used to from their husbands."
"Well, I imagine that there are some dissatisfied wives out there, but as your friend, in this small a community, I can tell you it's a mistake to go around propositioning married woman. You'll end up with, at least a bruised cheek from some women's slap and maybe worse from her hubby."
Dave chuckled, and quickly dismissed my cautions. "Bob, you just don't even have any idea do you? In the past three months, I have approached six different married woman, and I'm batting a thousand. I've concluded that there isn't a married woman out there, if approached properly, who would turn down a extra-marital sexual affair with a good-looking man."
"I don't know what world you've been living in, Dave, but I suspect that if you approached any of the married women that I know your batting average would quickly drop to the point that you would be sent back down to the minors."
"Like who?" Dave stared at me confidently.
I was totally dumbfounded. I didn't expect to be challenged on this point. My mind went blank so I tried to avoid the question. "Look, Dave, you know damn well that there are a lot of very faithful wives living in the suburbs that you would never be able to get into the sack."
"Who?" Dave wasn't going to let the question slide.
Without really thinking it through, I just blurted out, "Well my wife, Donna for one!"
Donna and I have been married for almost fourteen years, with two kids to show for the venture. In all that time, I've never had any reason to suspect Donna in any extra-marital activities. First of all, Donna is rather conservative when it comes to sex. Pretty much straight intercourse, with very rare oral sex, and certainly no anal. From the perspective of frequency, we will usually have sex 3 or 4 times a month. I knew that Donna would never stray. In fact, when we meet she was only 16 and four years later when we married, she was still a virgin. (Not that I didn't try, but with her strong Catholic background she kept reminding me that she was saving it for our marriage- something which I was forced to respect)
Dave smirked at my statement and said, "Well Donna might be a challenge."
Dave had met Donna at a few social functions held by our country club. But as far as I knew, certainly, nothing -not even flirting- had occurred between them. Donna is always the epitome of propriety. Not that she isn't strikingly beautiful, but she masks her 5 foot, six inch, 122 lbs. frame and 36-24-37 figure in expensive and conservative attire. One of my unspoken complaints has always been that Donna's delectable ass and ample tits are never displayed in a manner befitting its magnificence. Of course, her dark reddish, long hair is always perfectly groomed and frames her high cheek-bones, pouty lips and ivory skin.
"Bob," Dave shook his head in a condescending fashion, "do you really think for a moment that Donna hasn't fucked around on you?"
Not wanting to give any credence to Dave's outrageous suggestion, I tried to remain composed when I confidently replied, "I know she has never cheated and would never cheat. That's why your hypothesis about married pussy is so wrong."
"Well, Bob, if Donna hasn't taken on any other men, it's only because she has never been presented with the right opportunity or the right man"
"Sure, sure, Dave, whatever you say..." My cynical response only served to heighten Dave's competitive nature.
"Look, I'll prove it to you if you doubt me...but its got to be a fair test. You can't purposefully intervene or interfere. You just give me a reasonable chance to prove my point without letting Donna know that's something's up, I'll admit I'm wrong if I fail. This was like taking candy from a baby I thought. Yet, I recognized that Dave is a shrewd man and I didn't want any curves in this deal. "What happens if your right?" I had to ask.
"See, your already afraid that I'm right! A second ago, you thought I was full of shit....I'll tell you what I'll make it an easy wager. If I'm right, And to make it interesting lets place a little wager on it. Say about $100." He continued on by saying, "But you have to agree not to interfere and let what ever happens to happen. OK? "
I said "Deal." and wondered why I had.
For some unexplainable reason, I looked at Donna differently that night as she emerged from the shower. I wondered how she would react to Dave coming on to her. I wondered whether her nipples would become erect in response to his flirting, whether her pussy would involuntarily lubricate. As I daydreamed about the possible scenarios, I suddenly imagined Donna naked, laying on her back, her legs spread wide, bucking her pelvis wildly to meet the thrusts of Dave's invading cock. Certainly, I had never witnessed such a scene when Donna and I make love. Although I had never conceived of Donna doing such things before that night, the thought of her illicitly having sex with another man had this strange reaction on me. Instead of being totally enraged at such thoughts, it actually was getting me sexually aroused to the point where my dick was ROCK hard!
That night I attacked Donna with a fervor. I wanted to reassure myself of my potency. But, Donna reacted as always, reservedly and in control. Even though I fucked her with what I thought was superhuman intensity, she laid there, moving slowly, waiting for me to finish. At the ordained moment, Donna reached up and began to fondle my balls and the sensitive skin between my scrotum and asshole. Donna knows that this sensation always sends me over the edge. Even though I desperately wanted to hold off until her belly rippled with an orgasm, the sensation was too great, and at the last moment, the image in my mind returned to Dave slamming his dick into Donna's cunt. I climaxed violently and collapsed. With her normal grace, Donna slipped out from under me and rolled over to go to sleep. Yet, for me, these unsettling images continued, until I too fell into a deep sleep.
For the next week, I continued to be haunted by these perverse images of Dave and Donna in the throes of all varieties of sexual couplings. I found myself masturbating with a fervor that I hadn't known since adolescence. Since we only play golf on Saturdays, I hadn't talked to Dave again during this time frame. I thought that maybe it had just been a lot of male talk and that when I saw Dave for our normal game Saturday, that neither of us would even mention it. However, I had a little surprise on Friday night, which was the evening for a little cocktail party at our Country Club.
My wife and I headed out on Friday evening to the cocktail party at our Country Club to welcome in new members that had joined in the last year. It was a typically staid affair, with all the wives parading in their diamonds and designer duds. The husbands, with their fat wallets and brokerage accounts, sucked down fine whiskey while sharing off-color jokes about their bimbo secretaries and catered to the new members to show off their knowledge of the club and the golf course.
Donna was in her element. She was dressed impeccably in a black, backless number bearing some French designer's moniker. Actually, it was rather unusual for Donna, for it displayed her cleavage and a healthy dose of leg. Of course, Donna had a unique way of looking classy and not the least bit sensual in whatever she wore.
After a couple of vodka and tonics, I was startled by Dave's booming voice. It was quite a surprise since Dave normally eschewed these saree's.
"Dave, what the Hell are you doing here?"
"Bob, you cynical bastard! I'm here because I care deeply about welcoming our new members into the club." Then Dave smirked, and in a quite voice said: "You know, Bob, I've changed my take on these quarterly cocktail parties. While I still believe that the vast majority of pussies present haven't had a good ploughing in the last decade, I've concluded that this fact presents someone like me with endless possibilities."
"God, Dave, you are such a complete predator!" I replied.
With that comment, Dave glanced over towards Donna, who was engaged in some banal conversation with the hostess of the party, and remarked: "So, speaking of cunts yearning to be filled, how's our little girl, Bob?"
Flushed with anger and indignance, all I could muster was: "Fuck you, asshole!"
"Now, now, Bobby boy, remember our wager. Besides you're so confident about Donna's fidelity that there's nothing to worry about, right?"
With that, Dave made a beeline towards Donna. On the one hand, I felt like intervening. On the other, I truly wanted the vindication of Donna spurning Dave's base advances. In the end, I drowned my indecision in more vodka and tonic, especially as I wasn't really certain that Donna would reject Dave's advances. After all he was a hell of a good looking rugged guy and he had a smooth glib line with the ladies when he wanted to. As the evening wore on, my stomach felt oddly queasy. This feeling was exacerbated every time I lost sight of Donna. Yet, throughout, I could not ignore the aching in my balls that was somewhere between pain and pleasure.
To my frustration, Dave had succeeded in cornering Donna into a long one on one conversation. This was quite surprising since Donna was notorious for her ability to work a crowd. Many times, people would come up to Donna and apparently interject themselves into the conversation. Normally, Donna would use the interruption as an opportunity to move on. At the very least, Donna would always graciously welcome the new party into the discourse. Yet, on this evening, Donna's body language caused the interlopers to move on after only a comment or two, leaving her and Dave to themselves.
Finally, the event was coming to an end, and the caterers began to pack up. Donna remained clearly in sight, and fully clothed, albeit in conversation with Dave. At last, I felt a sense of relief and victory, as Donna left Dave and walked over to me. My elation was short-lived, however.
"Honey, I don't feel like calling it a night yet. Dave's invited us to join him for drinks and dancing at a nightclub. What do you say, it'll be fun, especially after you've had to put up with this boring purgatory for hours."
I had no choice but to agree. I certainly couldn't beg off and tell that I had wagered her fidelity for some silly bet between some golfing friends. Likewise, I would be breaching the deal with Dave if I interfered.
"Sure, honey, that sounds great." While I was less than enthusiastic, I rationalized away the risk that Dave might actually succeed. After all Donna had done nothing improper, yet.
Perhaps ill advisedly, I had more vodka and tonics when we reached the nightclub. The dim lights and smokey air of the club further clouded my self induced alcoholic haze. The loud music also rang in my ears and distorted the conversation. Dave had strategically sat next to Donna in the booth, relegating me to the other side of the table. My inability to make out or participate in the dialogue heightened my paranoia.
Dave was chatting up Donna with aplomb, and had even maneuvered his arm around her shoulder. When it came time for dancing, I was in no condition to spell Donna from Dave's devious onslaught. Aside from my agreement not to intercede, my coordination was completely shot from the drinking and I was in no shape to dance. I had to leave all the dancing of my sexy wife Donna to Dave!
At first, it was fast dancing, leaving Dave little opportunity for bodily contact. However, late in the evening, the music slowed and Dave pressed himself close to Donna. My senses may have been dulled, or my paranoia rampant, but I could swear that I saw Donna grinding her belly into Dave's bulging groin. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself, but as I downed my fifth vodka and tonic, I began to visualize illicit pictures of Dave fucking Donna ferociously with Donna bucking back like a thousand dollar slut.
When Dave and Donna had danced their way to the most remote and dark corner of the dance floor they were just out of my range of viability. Not knowing what was going on between them was driving me crazy and I moved from out table to a point closer to where they were but positioned in a position that they couldn't really see me. Even with my closer vantage point, I couldn't be absolutely sure (and the alcohol didn't help my perceptions any) but I could swear that I saw Dave and Donna engaged in a french kiss while Dave slowly stroke her ass and fondled the sides of her breasts. I returned to my seat to steady myself and try to rationalize what I had seen. By the time they returned, I wasn't sure that I had seen them engaged so sexually or whether my imagination and alcohol induced state had conjured up an unreal image for my sexual fantasies to feast upon.
Blessedly, closing time finally arrived. As we staggered to the door, I surrendered to Donna the keys to the car. Dave said something about a nightcap at his place and, for an instant, my heart stopped. But, for some reason, Donna declined. I poured myself into the leather passenger seat of our BMW. Before Donna got in she said "Ooops, just a second I think I left something in the club."
I was able to watch Donna in the passenger rearview mirror as she walked back to the club. But, she didn't go in. Instead, she went up to Dave as he was unlocking the door to his Caddy. Again, they kissed, this time I was sure about it... but not very long though. I could see Donna and Dave exchange brief words. With a sly smile, Dave placed his hand on Donna's right tit as she turned to walk back to the car.
Donna made a little small talk on the drive home, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Although my cock was turgid all evening long, the alcohol caused me to elect sleep over a desperately needed fuck once we got home. Yet, during the night, I slept fitfully, awakening often. At least twice, I heard Donna breathing heavily and the rhythmic sound of her hand vigorously at work between her legs.
The next day, was a little rough for my golf game. I lost as usual to Dave's superior play. And while he kidded me about really tieing one on last night, he mercifully didn't mention any of the details of our little outing to the other two guys in our golf foursome. Again after the game Dave and I lingered around after the other two guys had left. I knew he'd now say something about last night, but I hoped that he would simply take pleasure in the fact that he had groped my wife, and let the "wager" drop. But, this hope was dashed almost immediately.
"Bobby boy! You must be feeling fairly bad after all that booze last night. Funny without any drinks at all, I was "feeling" real good last night, if you catch my drift."
The sinking feeling in my stomach again sank in, and I could actually feel my manhood shrink.
"Look," I implored, "why don't we just call the bet a draw"
Try as I might, Dave wouldn't let me out of the bet we had made - the foolish bet I had made that he wouldn't be able to seduce my wife into giving him sex. It looked now to me that he just might be able to do it and I wanted to end the bet before he actually did get my wife in the sack. As we sat in the 19th hole his words to me where, "No go, Bobby. That wouldn't be very sporting. Especially after all my hard work. But, I'll tell you what: Let me try to ask Donna out alone just once. If she turns me down, I'll yield the point."
"Okay. It's a deal." I reluctantly agreed, believing that Donna would never risk being seen alone, in public, with Dave.
Dave was smirking like a cat with canary feathers hanging out of its mouth.
"What the hell are you smiling about!"
"Well, Bob, I forgot to share one little fact before you agreed: I already asked and Donna accepted. We're going out next Friday night."
I felt as if I was going to explode and it all came into place for me now. That morning, as I was preparing for my golf match, Donna had asked me if I had any plans next Friday night so that I could watch the kids because she was going to have a girl's night out with her best friend, Kathy. We had allowed one another "night's out" since our last child was born as a method of preserving our sanity. I never dreamed that Donna might use this arrangement to fool around on me. Of course, Dave could be bullshitting me. I wouldn't put that above him.
"Tell you what Bob," Dave continued, "at the end of the evening I'll give you a call to let you know that Donna's on the way home and if you owe me for the bet!"
I had a whole week to think about what my wife might be doing with Dave on Friday and I alternated between angry to sexually excited about the prospects of my previously prim proper wife yielding her body to my golfing buddy Dave.
When I got home Friday evening from work, Donna was busily getting ready to go out. But, she didn't act or dress any differently than on other occasions. I rationalized that Dave was simply torturing me, and that Donna was really going out with Kathy.
"On the way out the door, Donna gave my her traditional peck, and said: "Kathy and I are going to catch that new French film and maybe go out for dinner and drinks afterwards. It's a three hour movie, so I'll probably be late... no need to wait up."
Initially, ignorance was bliss. I chose to disregard Dave's boastfulness and, instead, trust Donna's honesty. Yet, once I put the kids down, my mind began to wander. A combination of jealousy and uncertainty gnawed at my brain. But, at the same time, I felt bad about doubting Donna.
By 10:30 PM, my stomach became unsettled in the same fashion as the night before when Donna and Dave were on the dance floor. By 11:30 PM, my paranoia overcame reason and I thought about ways to confirm Donna's fidelity.
So, in a very silly manner, I called Kathy's telephone number. Embarrassed, I almost hang up after the second ring, but then a groggy voice answered "hello". It was unmistakably Kathy's voice, and it sounded as if I had awakened her from a deep sleep. Flabbergasted, I set down the receiver without saying a word.
To my ironic dismay, I had proven that I wasn't paranoid. Donna was out with Dave!
As midnight eased into the early morning hours, my mental imagery was torture. I would alternate between fantasies of Dave fucking Donna in all different positions, with fantasies of Donna resolutely turning down Dave's advances, saying "No, I'm a married woman!"
Tellingly, my cock was rock hard as I imagined Dave ploughing into Donna's pussy. With guilty perversion, I stroked myself to an incredible orgasm, which brought on sleep.
Suddenly, I awoke with the sound of the telephone. I looked at the clock; it was 2:26 AM! I answered it after the second ring and was greeted by Dave's booming voice as soon as I had said hello, "Donna has been well fucked, my friend, and she's on her way home to you." With that he hung up and I just stared in disbelief at the phone for several moments. As I sat the phone down, my reaction was a strange one - all I could see in my mind was my wife getting "well fucked" as Dave had put it. My cock was rock hard and already trembling as I reached down to stroke it. It took only two short pumps and my cock erupted!
There I laid in the dark. My belly covered with my own cum. Yet, I still wondered whether Dave was intentionally torturing me. After all, this was hardly evidence that Donna had succumbed to Dave's seduction. At most, it merely suggested that Dave and Donna had been together. While their being together was not particularly comforting, it certainly didn't prove infidelity.
So, I waited for Donna to get home.
She arrived about fifteen minutes after Dave's telephone call. Donna slipped into the bedroom without turning on the light. Apparently, she thought I was asleep and I encouraged the notion by snoring slightly. She seemed somewhat unsteady on her feet, perhaps the result of a little too much alcohol. It was dark, but I did see her REMOVE HER PANTIES FROM HER PURSE! That was fairly strong evidence that she indeed had removed them at some point during the evening for Dave's benefit. If I had any remaining doubts that she hadn't gone "all the way" with David they were quickly removed as Donna climbed into bed naked. I could smell alcohol on her breath and, I think, Dave's cologne in her hair. She rolled over towards me, and kissed me, deeply thrusting her tongue in my mouth. Her lips were loose and her saliva flowed freely all over my cheeks and chin. Donna had never kissed me in such a wanton and messy fashion before. The taste of alcohol was unmistakable, but mixed in were flavors with which I was unfamiliar. I don't know if it was the alcohol, but when Donna finally withdrew her lips, my face was coated with a sticky and slimy residue.
Before I could fully assess the situation, Donna grabbed the back of my hair with both hands and forcefully guided my head underneath the sheets. My cheek brushed her left nipple which was erect and harder than I had ever experienced. Donna kept pushing my head until I was between her legs. This was quite out of the norm; Donna had never demanded oral sex before. If I went down on her, it was always at my instigation.
There I was in the darkness, under the covers. For all intents and purposes, I was blind. Yet, my other senses were heightened. The aroma emanating from Donna's crotch was pungent. It was the same odor I remembered from her soiled panties, only intensified. There were squishing sounds coming from her pussy, and she was murmuring, "yessssss." to me!.
Impatiently, Donna ground my face into her groin. I could feel a hot, slimy, sticky pool of fluids soaking her pubic hair and cradled by the folds of her spread labia. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and extended my tongue into the void between her thighs. The opening to Donna's vagina was enormous. It seemed wide enough to consume my nose, mouth and chin. My tongue caught a huge glob of the flow which oozed from her cunt. The strong taste was foreign to me: tart and salty with a tinge of the musky flavor of Donna's vaginal juices.
Now there was no denying it. I was swallowing the semen Dave's cock had deposited deep in my wife's pussy. You would think that being a strong heterosexual all my life, that I should be revolted. But, my rigid dick and throbbing balls said otherwise. With a fervor, I began tonguing Donna's swollen and pussy lips seeking to savor the remnants that had already escaped from her cunt. I sucked what seemed like a endless stream of semen from the depths of her vagina. All the while Donna moaned and rocked her pelvis against my jaw. I heard myself whimpering with satisfaction as if I were a suckling infant taking nourishment from a mother's tit.
Time and time again, I tried to extend my tongue and swab Donna's cervix, but I couldn't. Dave's dick must have been not only thick as a redwood but long as one. He must have pounded Donna's cervix well up into her belly.
After Donna had thrilled in orgasm, a thicker flow of cum poured forth. I lapped it up and became to wonder if Dave's sperm had made its way into Donna's womb. Even though I knew Donna was on the pill, the thought of Dave's virile seed swimming in search of one of Donna's eggs, sent me over the edge. Without even touching myself, I came again, my semen pooling on the mattress as I continued to coax every drop of Dave's semen from my wife's folds.
