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A Winning Wager

"A man bets his wife's mouth on a football game."

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I had only been working for my company for a little more than a year on that fateful day in 2016. I had been out of work for roughly a year before then, so it was important that I earned favorable reviews during my first year-end review. As such, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to butter up the team that reported to me by allowing them to leave early on our final day before Christmas break. Truth be told, I needed the early break myself.

I pulled into our driveway a few hours earlier than usual and noticed right away that a van was blocking my path into our garage. It took me a moment to remember that we had scheduled to have our furnace replaced that day. It seemed as though everything in our house was breaking down or failing all at the same time. We’d accumulated so many expenses during my time out of work that our debt had become suffocating.

I parked alongside the van and was just about to enter through the side door when I remembered that our lawn furniture was still spread out in our back yard. I had been meaning to bring it indoors for weeks, and snow was on its way.

I detoured around the side of our house and trudged into the back yard. As I gathered up a couple of lawn chairs, I glanced into the basement window and performed an instant double-take. I slowly approached the small, filth-covered, window and squatted on the ground to confirm what I was seeing.

Standing in our basement next to our new furnace was a man I had never seen before. He was facing me with his eyes closed, wearing a very content look on his face. Kneeling in front of him was my wife, Stacey. I could tell it was her by her distinctive long, wavy, auburn-colored, hair, which was bobbing along with the back-and-forth motion of her head.

Even though it was obvious what was happening, I still couldn’t believe my eyes. In more than twenty-two years of marriage, I had never once considered that my wife would ever cheat on me. Although she had always maintained a high sex drive, it just wasn’t like her to be unfaithful – or so I thought. Yet, the truth of the matter was right there before me as I crouched in the frozen grass watching my beloved wife pleasure some complete stranger.

The stranger’s expression changed. It almost looked as though he were in pain. He snatched a handful of her hair and held her steady while his entire body convulsed. He opened his mouth, and I could hear his faint groan through the pane of glass. All the while I watched, stupidly frozen on the spot. I could barely breathe.

Stacey rose from the floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand while the man zipped up. He grabbed a clipboard from the top of the furnace and handed it to her. She signed a paper and handed it back to him. It all seemed oddly casual and businesslike.

I felt a white-hot fury bubbling inside my gut. I marched alongside the house and reached the side door just as the stranger did. He appeared startled to see me. He was a bit younger than me, and in significantly better shape. Still, I was so enraged I clenched my fists and stepped toward him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I snarled. “That’s my wife in there.”

The man raised his hands and sidled toward his vehicle. “Settle down, buddy,” he said.

“I’m not your fucking buddy,” I responded. I shoved him, and he stumbled a bit before regaining his balance.

He raced to his vehicle, flung open the door, and produced a long wrench, which he wielded like a baseball bat. “Take one more step and you’ll regret it,” he said. “If you want to be mad at someone, go talk to your wife.”

I was so consumed with rage, I actually thought about taking him on, wrench and all. Thankfully, my survival instincts took over and I backed away. The man quickly sat in the driver’s seat, started his engine, and hastily backed out of the driveway.

To say that Stacey was surprised to see me would be an understatement. When I walked into that kitchen, she looked at me as though she were seeing a ghost.

“Wh-what are you doing home?” she stammered.

“Never mind that,” I said. I could feel my blood boiling. “I saw what you did down in that basement. What the fuck, Stacey?”

Her knees seemed to buckle for a moment. She steadied herself with the kitchen counter and tried her best to appear calm and composed. “Okay, I know you’re mad, but just let me explain.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear the explanation for this! Go right ahead!”

She held her hands out in surrender. “I just saved us $200 on that installation.”

My bottom jaw reflexively dropped and I stared at her in disbelief. “You what?! I’m sorry, but you mean to tell me you just whored yourself out and cheated on me for a lousy $200?”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t cheat on you.”

“The hell you did!”

“I sucked his dick, Devin. I didn’t spread my legs for him. I didn’t fall in love with him. It was just a blowjob. Big fucking deal.”

“Yes! It is a big fucking deal! You sucked off another man! How the fuck isn’t that cheating?”

“It isn’t according to—”

“Don’t!” I interrupted. “Don’t give me that Bill Clinton bullshit!”

She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then I suppose you were going to tell me about it, right?”

“Of course not,” she said. “I knew you’d overreact like this.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her absurdity. “Overreact? I just caught my wife cheating on me for two hundred bucks! How else should I react?”

“If you hadn’t come home so early it wouldn’t be an issue. What you don’t know has never hurt you before.”

Those words hit me like a punch to the gut. “What do you mean by that? You mean you’ve done this before?”

She responded with another exasperated eyeroll. “How do you think we got such a great deal when our water heater needed to be replaced? Or when the roof started leaking? Or when the transmission failed in my car?”

I stared at her in utter disbelief. “You mean to tell me you sucked off all of those guys?”

“Again, it’s not a big deal! It’s not like I got any pleasure out of it! I used my mouth for a minute or two and saved hundreds – hell, probably thousands – of dollars. You’re acting like a blowjob is the end of the world!”

“So you’re basically a whore,” I noted.

“Oh, spare me your labeling. I used what little talent I have to contribute something to this family. We’re drowning in debt – and that was before you lost your job. Now we’re paying Katie’s tuition on top of that. Our house is falling apart every day, it seems. I was just trying to contribute.”

“You do contribute,” I argued.

“My meager part-time job hardly makes a dent in our bills,” she interrupted.

I knew from many past arguments that this was a sore subject. We had met in college. I got her pregnant when we were only sophomores. We were young and scared out of our minds because it looked like we had just screwed up our future together. Stacey’s plans for graduating were put on hold, and she dropped out at the end of the year.

We married as quickly as possible. I found a decent-paying job and was able to support the three of us – just barely. Stacey insisted on getting a job to help with our finances, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I wanted Katie to be raised by a stay-at-home mom like I was. By the time Katie was old enough for Stacey to return to work, Stacey found that she didn’t have the skillset for more than part-time labor.

“Whatever problems we’re having, this isn’t the solution,” I said.

“Fine, then I won’t do it anymore,” she replied.

“So, what? That’s that?”

“What do you want from me, Devin?” she said with a little too much snark and not nearly enough repentance.

“I don’t know,” I responded, “but this isn’t over.”

***

I hardly said a word to her the rest of that day, and spent the night sleeping on the couch. Katie came home from college for Christmas break the very next day, and didn’t return for until a month later. Stacey and I wore our fakest smiles throughout that month, and pretended as though nothing had happened. Behind closed doors, we continued to argue.

In my mind’s eye I kept seeing that vision of Stacey’s red hair bobbing back and forth, and that look of utter bliss on the repairman’s face. How could she say that wasn’t cheating? She was pleasuring another man, sexually. To me, that’s cheating. She insisted it wasn’t. If a cheater doesn’t believe she is cheating, is it still cheating?

I always knew Stacey had a strangely casual attitude about oral sex. Hell, she blew me on our very first date. We were making out in the front seat of my car when, all of a sudden, she unzipped my fly and went down on me. The moment her mouth touched my cock, I was in heaven. She was so good, it should have raised a few red flags. At the time, I didn’t care. She was the nicest, coolest, most beautiful woman I had even met. I knew from our very first date that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

After we had been dating for a short time, we had the typical conversation about our past sexual history. She told me she had only had sex with five other guys before we met. I believed her. But after what I just witnessed in that basement, I couldn’t help but wonder if she counted oral sex as “having sex.” If not, how many men had she pleasured before – and after – we met?

***

As the month of January came to a close, and Katie returned to school, I began to distract myself with preparations for our annual Super Bowl party. Several years earlier, when I thought I had a steady job and plenty of money to spare, I renovated our basement. I finished the ceiling, walls, and flooring, installed a nice mahogany bar along one of the walls, and furnished the room with comfortable chairs and a large high-definition television.

Stacey and I began hosting weekly parties every Sunday at our new “man cave” in the basement. At first, over a dozen friends and neighbors joined us, each bringing beer and junk food. Over time, the numbers dwindled down to a solid core of four. Throughout that football season, those four were our consistent and reliable guests each and every Sunday.

The loudest and most obnoxious member of our group was our next-door neighbor, Dominic. He was an older, heavyset, man with a booming voice and no filter whatsoever between his brain and his mouth. He grew up in South Boston and was naturally a fan of all the local New England teams. As a New York transplant myself, this created a friendly rivalry from the moment we first met.

I met Brian and Shawn at my former workplace before I was given the pink slip. We got along well in the office, and managed to keep in touch thanks to our shared passion for football. They were both at least ten years younger than I and in much better physical shape. Naturally, this created plenty of fodder for our good-natured trash-talking.

Finally, there was Harold. He was thirty-five years old, balding, overweight, and had never been married. Hell, I don’t think he had ever been on a date with a woman. Poor Harold was the butt of many jokes, but he was a really decent man who seemed to enjoy the camaraderie of our group. His Sunday excursions to our basement may have been the only time he got out of his house down the road, which he shared with his elderly mother.

This cast of characters arrived at our home during the afternoon of February fifth, several hours before game time. They were brimming with excitement because their favorite hometown team, the Patriots, were about to battle for yet another Super Bowl trophy against the Atlanta Falcons. As a fan of the New York Giants, I was once again the only person in the room who was rooting against the heavily-favored Patriots. On that fateful day, I declared myself to be a Falcons fan. I even went out and bought myself a Falcons jersey, which I proudly wore as I greeted our friends at the front door. Predictably, the most over-the-top reaction to my jersey came from the loud-mouthed Dominic, who nearly fell off the front porch when he saw it.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” he shouted loudly enough for the children walking by to hear. I gave them an apologetic wave and quickly ushered him into the house before he shouted anything else inappropriate.

We each took our places in our usual chairs. Stacey entered the room carrying a large platter of meat, cheese, and bread. As always, she was dressed in an outfit that flattered her well-toned figure. On this occasion, she wore a pair of black yoga pants that accentuated her perfectly-round ass and a tiny tee shirt that stretched across her ample breasts, making them look a size larger than they were. An avid runner, she never shied away from flaunting her hard-earned figure as often as possible.

Although I had spoken to her on many occasions about the way she dressed, she seemed to enjoy the attention – from everyone but Dominic, that is. She absolutely despised the man. She felt that he was rude, arrogant, and disrespectful – all of which was true, of course.

“Hey, honey, you dropped a plastic fork there,” Dominic said to her. She hated it when he called her honey. He was well aware of that.

Stacey looked around at the floor beneath her and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see it.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s right there up against the wall,” he said. “Just face the wall there and bend over and I’m sure you’ll find it.”

She was just about to do so when it finally occurred to her what he was doing. She wheeled around and flashed him a dirty look. “You’re a pig,” she snarled.

He responded with a series of loud and obnoxious snorting noises, causing the younger guys to burst into laughter. Shawn nearly spat his beer across the room. Stacey marched out of the room and the focus returned to the pregame analysis on the screen. During a commercial break, Dominic spoke up again.

“So, what are we bettin’ this year?” he boomed, looking in my direction.

When we first met each other, our bets were friendly wagers of a few bucks, for no real reason other than added bragging rights. As the years passed, our bets became increasingly personal, with the goal to humiliate the loser in the most embarrassing way possible. One year, I was forced to wear a Tom Brady jersey for an entire month whenever I stepped outside my home. Another year, Dominic was forced to fly a Giants flag outside of his home for an entire year. The worst punishment, though, was the year I was forced to dine at a local restaurant wearing my wife’s favorite dress. I desperately wanted my revenge for that one.

“I’ve put a lot of thought into this, actually,” I said with a smirk.

“Oh, this should be good!” Shawn said.

“We all take a trip to the grocery store,” I continued, “and watch the loser go shopping for adult diapers, lube, condoms, and a large zucchini.”

“Whoa!” Brian shouted. He hopped up and down on the edge of his seat in excitement.

“But!” I interrupted, “you gotta give me some points. I’m not betting straight-up. Not this game.”

Dominic waved me away dismissively. “What a pussy you are. Okay, fine. I’ll give you three points.”

“Seven,” I insisted.

“Five,” he said. “Look, the Vegas spread is three. I’m being extra kind here.”

“Yeah, I’d never describe you as ‘extra kind’, my friend,” I said. “But okay, fine. Five points.”

We shook hands, which officially sealed the deal. I instantly felt queasy. I don’t know which was a more nauseating thought: shopping for those items at our local grocery store where everyone knew me by name or the Patriots winning another championship. By the time the game finally began, we were all well-fed and well-lubricated with beer.

To everyone’s surprise, the first quarter ended with neither team scoring. Finally, three minutes into the second quarter, Atlanta scored a touchdown on a running play. On their next possession, they scored again on a touchdown pass. Then, with only a little more than two minutes remaining until halftime, they scored yet another touchdown, giving them a commanding 21-0 lead. We were witnessing one of the greatest upsets in Super Bowl history!

Although the Patriots managed a three-point field goal with two seconds remaining, Atlanta’s 21-3 halftime lead seemed to drain every ounce of enthusiasm out of the room – with the exception of Dominic, who remained convinced the Patriots would win.

“Come on, man,” I said, “it’s over! Start making that shopping list now!”

Dominic waved his meaty hand dismissively. “How many times have we seen it before? The Pats always play best with their backs against the wall.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe we should raise the stakes, then.”

He scoffed and looked to the other Patriots fans in the room for support. He paused for a moment and then shot back, “Okay, smart ass. Let’s do it. What do you want to bet?”

“We’ll keep the original bet, and add…let’s say, a hundred bucks to it.”

“I don’t want your money,” he replied.

“Well, I don’t mind taking yours!” I said. Truth be told, I needed the money more than I needed to see him humiliated.

“Well, then you can add $100 on my side of the bet, then,” he said, “but I want something else.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Just then, Stacey walked into the room carrying another round of snacks. She placed them on the table and turned to face our guests. When she noticed the devious look on Dominic’s face, she gave me a quizzical glance.

“How about Stacey show us her tits?” Dominic said with a crooked grin.

“Excuse me?!” she blurted. “What did you just say?”

“Your hubby here wants to up our bet,” Dominic explained with an amused shrug.

“Fine,” I said. “Done deal.”

Stacey looked at me incredulously. When I ignored her, she pulled me off my chair and marched me into the next room.

“What the fuck, Devin?” she said in a loud whisper.

“First of all, it’s a 21-3 game,” I calmly explained, “so you won’t have to do anything. Secondly, since when do you care about flaunting your body in front of these guys? Look at the way you’re dressed. Hell, you may as well be naked. They’re all undressing you with their eyes anyway.”

“Don’t start with that again,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. It was another sore subject.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you showed your tits to a bunch of guys,” I reminded her.

“That was nearly twenty-five years ago!” she exclaimed. “And I was drunk!”

“So, have a glass of wine, then,” I said. She turned and stomped away, throwing her hands in the air for added emphasis.

When I returned to the man cave, the guys greeted me with good-natured scolding and teasing. “You’re in trouble now!” Harold said with a grin. I shrugged and grabbed another beer from the cooler.

“Hey, I was just kidding,” Dominic said. “I just wanted to see that look on her face. I didn’t think she’d take me seriously. Or you, for that matter!”

“Well, I’m serious,” I said. I held out my hand to prove it. “A bet’s a bet.”

Dominic laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, fine,” he said, shaking my hand. “You’re fucking crazy. That’s what I like about you.”

We settled back into our chairs for the start of the second half. Stacey reappeared, and did not look happy. She went straight to the bar and poured herself a second glass of wine. Normally, she would have limited herself to one. She refused to look in my direction, and began to take an interest in the game for the first time that night.

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Halfway through the third quarter, the Falcons scored yet another touchdown, making it a 28-3 game. I leaped to my feet and shouted, celebrating alone. The other four guys in the room looked miserable, while Stacey appeared detached and disinterested.

“Man, I don’t know what’s sweeter,” I said, “watching the Patriots get blown away like this, or the feeling of that $100 bill in my pocket. I don’t know if I’ll even spend it! I may just frame it and hang it on the wall right over the TV!”

“I don’t know why you’re celebrating over there,” Dominic said. “The Pats aren’t out of it yet.”

“Dude, give it up!” Brian said. “We’re down by almost four touchdowns, with something like twenty minutes left to play. It’s over.”

“You call yourself a Pats fan?” Dominic scoffed. “I’m telling you, they can still win it.”

Brian rolled his eyes and stood from his chair. “Whatever, man. You’re fucking delusional. I can’t watch any more of this bullshit.”

He walked over to me, shook my hand, and congratulated me for the win. “You’re leaving?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said, grabbing his coat. “I can’t stomach any more of this. I’ll see you guys next September.”

With that, he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Dominic shaking his head in disgust. “Fucking kids,” he said. Then he turned to Shawn. “No disrespect.”

Shawn laughed and raised his beer in salute. “No worries, man.” Nothing ever seemed to worry Shawn.

“Dom,” I said, “you seriously can’t believe the Patriots are going to win this game.”

“I’m dead serious,” he said. “In fact, I’ll up my side of the bet to $500.”

I began to think he had a few too many beers. “Okay, sure,” I said, calling his bluff, “and on my side, instead of showing us her tits, Stacey will do a full strip dance here for all of us.”

At last, Stacey looked my way. I expected her to shoot daggers from her eyes and protest. Instead, she surprised all of us by shrugging. “Sure, why not?” she said. “What difference does it make?” She reached around the bar and poured another glass of wine.

“See?” I said. “Stacey’s on-board.”

Dominic seemed to contemplate it for a long time. On the screen, the Patriots were advancing the ball down the field toward the goal line. At the five-yard line, their legendary quarterback, Tom Brady, punched it in with a short pass, giving New England their first touchdown of the game. Dominic’s fists rose in defiant celebration and he shouted along with Shawn and Harold.

“Fuck it!” he bellowed. “You’re on! $500 or a strip show from the lady!”

I rose from my chair and shook his hand. Shawn and Harold shared a laugh and shook their heads in bewilderment.

“This game just got interesting,” Harold remarked.

The Patriots began the fourth quarter with a long drive that culminated with a three-point field goal, making the score 28-12 with less than ten minutes remaining in the game.

“Getting nervous over there?” Dominic asked, glancing over his shoulder. “We can cancel that bet, you know.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I said. “Never mind cancelling the bet. I say we increase it again. $1,000 on your side. On my side, not only will Stacey give us all a nice strip show, but she’ll blow you all, right here, to completion.”

The words came out of my mouth before I realized what I had just said. The room fell silent. I could feel Stacey glaring at me from across the room. At last, Dominic broke the silence with a hearty laugh. “You crazy bastard!” he shouted.

I casually strode over to the bar and pretended to busy myself behind the bar while Stacey sat and simmered on one of the bar stools. I could feel myself growing increasingly annoyed. Although I knew I had stepped over the line, I was still harboring deep resentment over what I had learned just before Christmas.

“Hey, we need the money, right?” I said to her, my words dripping with sarcasm. She looked down at me from the bar stool. “And it’s only a blowjob, right?” I continued. “It’s not like it’s cheating. What’s the big deal? It’s not like you’d get any enjoyment out of it.”

It was immensely satisfying to throw those words back at her. I thought that maybe she would finally understand just how ridiculous they were. I had her trapped in a logistical corner with nowhere to turn. Maybe, finally, she would break her stubborn protest and agree that what she did was wrong.

“I’m not blowing these idiots,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked. “If it’s really no big deal, and you really don’t get any pleasure from it, then why not?”

“Dominic is disgusting,” she said. “And the others…”

“So, then you blew all those other guys because they were attractive? Is that it?”

She stared at me, seething. Without looking away she raised her wine glass and took another deep sip. She then rose from her stool and strolled across the room toward Dominic’s chair. I watched as she extended her hand toward him. He looked up at her as if she had lost her mind.

“It’s no big deal,” she said, flatly. “I’m game if you are.” She had just called my bluff.

Dominic looked at me. I did my best not to display any emotion whatsoever. “Is she serious?” he asked. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged in response. Really, what difference did it make at that point? She had already sucked half the dicks in town, it seemed. What was three more? And the odds of losing the game at that point were astronomical. If nothing else, I enjoyed watching Stacey being forced to double-down on her ridiculous excuse for what she did.

For the first time since I had known him, Dominic seemed to be at a loss for words. He looked to Shawn and Harold for advice. Shawn smiled excitedly and nodded. Harold looked away and pretended to focus on the game. After a lengthy pause, Dominic reached for Stacey’s hand and shook it.

“What the hell,” he said. “I haven’t had a blowjob in a long time.”

When the Patriots scored again, with less than six minutes remaining, the celebrations in the room were oddly muted, given the stakes at hand. Atlanta began their next drive inside of their own ten-yard line, but managed to advance the ball to midfield. An incredible catch on a 27-yard pass put them within field goal range. A single kick could have won the game.

“It’s over!” I loudly proclaimed, hoisting my beer in celebration. “Put a fork in it!”

“It ain’t over yet,” Dominic insisted.

Incredibly, he was right. A twelve-yard sack and a holding penalty pushed Atlanta backward, well outside of field goal range. They were forced to punt. That gave the legendary Brady one final opportunity to add to his historic resumé.

As I watched Brady connect with another long pass thanks to a seemingly-impossible catch, my stomach churned. This can’t be happening, I thought. I glanced toward Stacey, who was still seated at the bar. She looked as nervous as I felt. I had never seen her so interested in the game of football. The guys in the room focused intently on the television screen. When Brady connected with a short pass into the end zone, they leapt from their chairs and shouted. Shawn nearly took poor Harold’s hand off with a vicious high-five. Dominic raised his fists to the ceiling in triumph.

They all remained standing as the Patriots attempted a two-point conversion to tie the game. That successful attempt sparked yet another raucous celebration. I simply sat in silence, shaking my head uncontrollably. At last, I gathered my thoughts and strode across the room toward the bar.

“They have to win by at least five points,” I reminded her.

“Whatever,” she said.

“Let’s just call it off,” I whispered.

“Too late now. What’s done is done.”

“You’re really going through with this?”

“It was your idea! You wanted to make a big point, and teach me some big lesson, didn’t you? Well, you got your wish. If I have to do this, it’s on you. But then I never want to hear about this again.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually want to do this,” I said. She threw her hands in the air and stormed out of the room.

The game went into overtime, but that hardly mattered anymore. The end result was now inevitable. Once again, the Patriots would win a Super Bowl in the most improbable way imaginable. I didn’t even see the final play of the game – a short run into the end zone – as my face was buried in my hands. It was torturous enough to listen to the euphoric celebration in the room.

Several hands slapped my back in rough, mocking, condolence. There was a great deal of laughter and boisterous chatter that drowned even the celebratory crowd on the TV. When at last I found the courage to remove my hands from my face and look across the room to the bar, I saw that Stacey was seated at the bar, staring blankly ahead with an empty wine glass dangling from her fingers.

“Hey, man,” Dominic said to me, “don’t take it so hard. You win some, you lose some. You just seem to lose a lot more than you win!”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe what I just saw.”

“Neither can I!” Shawn added. “What a freakin’ game!”

For a moment, our bet seemed forgotten. Slowly, that realization seemed to return to each of us. All three of our guests began to look from me to Stacey and back again with uneasy apprehension.

“Hey,” Dominic said at last, “just forget about our bet. Winning that game was reward enough. I’ll settle for just seeing Stacey’s tits. And watching you go shopping, of course. Maybe I’ll video tape it, and put it on the YouTube.”

I looked at Dominic, and then glanced toward Stacey. Her expression gave no hint whatsoever toward her emotions at that moment. She was a completely blank slate. If I called her bluff one more time, would she finally concede my point? At that point, I had nothing to lose.

“Would you have given me that $1,000 if I had won?” I asked Dominic.

“Yeah, of course,” he said.

“Then a bet’s a bet,” I said. “I may be a horrible gambler, but I pay all my debts.”

Dominic squinted at me and took a big gulp of beer before turning to Stacey. “Honey, you really don’t need to do this,” he said to her. “We were just kidding around. We’ll get enough of a reward humiliating your husband at the grocery store, trust me.”

Stacey turned her expressionless eyes toward him and stated flatly, “Like he said, a bet’s a bet.” She then stood from her bar stool, placed her empty glass on the bar, and strode to the center of the room. She gently placed her hand on Harold’s chest and nudged him to his chair before doing the same to Shawn. Dominic voluntarily returned to his usual chair.

“I can’t dance without music,” she said to me, with her hands on her hips.

I stood and looked at her for a moment. I waited for her to call it all off, and she seemed to wait for me to do the same. It was a game of “Chicken,” and neither of us was veering off the course.

“Fine,” I said. I turned toward our stereo system, but then pivoted back to the center of the room. “Guys,” I said, “what happens here stays here. I trust each and every one of you to keep your mouths shut forever. Not a word of this to anyone. Understood?” They nodded in response.

“Is this really happening?” I heard Shawn whisper to Harold. “I feel like this whole night is a dream.”

“If it is,” Harold whispered, “I don’t wanna wake up.”

I found some upbeat music to play and returned to my chair. Stacey closed her eyes and began swaying her hips to the beat of the music. She was a dancer for many years before we met, so I knew she didn’t mind dancing in front of an audience. This dance, however, would develop quite differently than all the others.

She approached each man in the room and swiveled her hips seductively before them. When she reached Dominic, she straddled his lap and gyrated on top of him. He held her hips while he looked into her eyes and smiled broadly – the shit-eating grin of the winner.

She stood in the center of the room and continued her erotic movements while she deftly reached behind her to unclasp her bra. She was really going to go through with this. With practiced precision, she reached inside of her shirt sleeve, pulled out the black, lacy, fabric, and swirled it above her head before playfully tossing it onto Dominic’s head. Shawn and Harold gave a nervous laugh, and Dominic held the bra to his nose and inhaled deeply, nodding with his approval.

Stacey lowered herself to the floor, and with rhythmic precision slithered out of her yoga pants, revealing her black thong panties. She raised a smooth and shapely leg toward the ceiling and swirled the pants above her head with her pointed toes before kicking them toward Shawn. She then crawled on all fours toward Harold, who squirmed nervously in his chair.

She grabbed his knees and spread them apart. She then slithered toward his crotch and paused for a moment, allowing her hot breath to radiate through the fabric of his pants. She continued her journey past his chest and above his head until she was standing with her breasts pressed against his face. She raked her long fingernails through his hair for a moment before turning to continue her dance in the center of the room.

Although this was supposed to be a punishment, she was clearly enjoying herself. I recalled a time when she confessed it was her fantasy to strip for a bunch of strange men at a bachelor’s party. It seemed she was now living that fantasy, thanks to my foolish wager.

Still swaying her hips, she grasped the bottom of her shirt and slowly raised it over her head. Her ample breasts sprung forth, and she held them and turned in a complete circle to allow everyone an opportunity to appreciate the view.

“Fantastic!” Dominic exclaimed. He turned to me to give a nod of approval, as if I needed his opinion on my wife’s exceptional beauty. I rolled my eyes and took another gulp of beer.

Stacey continued her dance as the song came to an end. As the last beats played, she slipped her thumbs into the thin waistline of her panties and shimmied them to the floor just as the song ended. There was a brief pause as the men in the room sat in awestruck disbelief. She thrust her hands into the air and struck a dramatic pose, causing the men to erupt in applause. She bowed gracefully in response and smiled broadly.

“Okay,” she said. “Who’s first?”

She looked to me. It was our final opportunity to put an end to our staring contest, but we were both too stubborn to blink.

“Dom’s the one who won the bet,” Shawn reminded her.

“Okay, then,” she said, turning to Dominic with a businesslike demeanor. “Whip it out.”

Dominic hesitated and turned to look at me. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

My head was spinning and I felt queasy. I had just watched my wife strip naked in front of a group of guys. Now she was supposed to blow all of them, and all because of a stupid bet. If she was truly sincere about her opinion that a blowjob isn’t sex, and that it isn’t a big deal to her, then blowing a man she found to be a disgusting pig would certainly prove her sincerity.

“Why not?” I said with a shrug. “We’ve come this far. May as well go all the way.”

Dominic smiled and frantically fumbled with his pants while Stacey crawled between his legs. His fat cock was already fully-engorged when she took it in her hand and stroked it. She gave me one final glance. Before I could signal any response to her, she lowered her head and fed his cock into her mouth. Dominic groaned loudly and tilted his head back.

“Oh, god!” he shouted.

Stacey held the base of his cock and bobbed her head in rhythm with the music. Across the room, Shawn and Harold watched with the same intensity they had watched the game earlier that evening. Harold shifted nervously in his seat and adjusted his pants. The sounds of slurping and sucking now merged with the music.

Stacey’s lips wrapped tightly around Dominic’s swollen cock. He began thrusting upward to reach deeper and deeper into her throat. At last, he gave a great bellow and held Stacey’s head while he tensed and thrashed on the chair. Her lips formed a tight seal on the head of his cock while her hand stroked his shaft. Eventually, his muscles relaxed. Stacey gave his cock one final journey down her throat before she sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“That was fucking amazing,” Dominic said. “She’s good,” he said to each of the men in the room. “You’re good,” he repeated to her.

“Yeah,” she said with a sexy grin, “I know.”

She turned and crawled toward Harold. He looked so nervous I thought he might pass out. When he failed to recognize Stacey’s hint that he should take out his cock, she did it for him. She unzipped his fly and pulled it out. When her lips touched his cock, the wide-eyed expression on his face hinted that it could very well have been the first time he had ever experienced such a sensation.

She had barely begun to work on him when he suddenly shouted, “Oh, God! Oh, God!” His early release seemed to surprise Stacey as well, as she nearly choked when the first stream hit the back of her throat. She recovered, however, and continued to suck and swallow until he was forced to push her away.

“Thank you,” he croaked.

It was now the young man Shawn’s turn. He didn’t hesitate to whip out his impressively-sized cock before Stacey had even reached him. I watched as her long auburn hair bobbed up and down in Shawn’s lap. I recognized the expression of ecstasy on his face. My mind instantly returned to the vision I saw through that basement window.

I couldn’t stand it any longer. The aching of my swollen cock straining against the fabric of my pants was too great to ignore. I quickly unzipped my pants and hurried to the other side of the room. Stacey was completely oblivious of my presence until I slid my cock into her from behind. She seemed to panic for a moment, but quickly recovered when she turned around and saw that it was me.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the incredible sensation of sliding my hard cock in and out of her slick entrance. Her moans must have sent young Shawn over the top, as it wasn’t long before I heard him give her a frantic warning that he was about to explode. She ignored his warning and kept sucking away as he filled her mouth.

I closed my eyes once again and thrust into her harder and faster. The sound of wet, slapping, flesh was soon joined by the unexpected sound of sucking and slurping. I opened my eyes to find that I was looking straight at Dominic. Apparently, he had switched places with Shawn and was enjoying round number two. I gave him a quizzical look, and he responded with a sheepish grin.

“Hey, that asshole Brian left early, so I’m taking his place,” he explained.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was such a typical Dominic move. I couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer. I grabbed two handfuls of her ass cheeks and held tightly as I pounded into her, filling her with one powerful wave after another. Moments later, Dominic made his second deposit in her mouth.

***

“Remember,” I reminded each of them as they shook my hand at our front door, “not a word about this to anyone.”

They assured me I had their word of honor. As usual, Dominic was the last to leave. He squeezed my hand and shook it with great enthusiasm.

“That is some wife you have there,” he said.

“Yeah? You think?”

“No doubt,” he said. “She’s a keeper. Trust me.”

“Yeah, well, after what just happened, I don’t know if she’s worth keeping.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? Listen, don’t make such a big deal out of what just happened. We all just had some fun, that’s all. She’s a good woman, isn’t she? You love her, right? She’s been a good wife and mother?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then nothing else matters. Trust me, I’ve been living alone in that big house across the street for six years. It sucks. It’s a boring and lonely existence. If you search your entire life for the perfect woman, you’ll never find her. You’ve got an amazing woman there. Do whatever it takes to hold onto her.”

I shook his hand again and thanked him for coming. I nearly choked at the double entendre. I walked into the kitchen and found Stacey at the sink, cleaning dishes. She turned to look at me, wearing a worrisome expression.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I paused for a moment and then smiled. "Yeah," I said. “No big deal."

Published 
Written by JustSomeJoe
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