Twenty-Five Minutes
I swear to God I don’t care about the Superbowl—I don’t follow football at all. Usually I don’t even know what teams are playing. Nevertheless, I watch it every year. You see, my wife, Janice, is a total sports fanatic. I’ll be on the computer surfing the web, while she’s in the living room screaming at the television, yelling when she hates the refs call, cheering when her team scores.
Don’t get me wrong. Janice is totally feminine, she’s in her early 30’s, about 5”4’, long brown hair, with a taut, round little ass that she likes to show off in skin-tight pants. She works out religiously, five sometimes six times a week so she’s lean in all the right places. But, frankly, what most guys notice when they see her are her tits. Her tits were always great, but when she started working out she lost a lot of weight, some of it in her chest. We took a trip to Beverly Hills and got her implants. When she was trying to decide how large to make them the surgeon told us that patients almost always feel that they could have gone one size larger. So when it came time to choose she picked a pair two sizes larger than she initially considered.
After the surgery she wasn’t sure about it. In fact, the first thing she said was, “Oh my God, he made them too big! I look like a stripper.” I assured her that they looked great, and told her that she didn’t look at all like a stripper. But, of course she was right, they were the first thing any guy would notice about her. She was worried that the 35-Ds were too big and obvious, that our friends would know from looking at her that she’d had her breasts done. After the surgery, she started covering up. So self-conscious was she, that she took to wearing baggy clothes. Even at the gym, she’d wear an oversized t-shirt over her sports bra. So guys always noticed her chest, they could see that she had a serious rack—but with the way she dressed, they couldn’t see the details.
I thought this self-consciousness might be over when Janice was getting dressed for last year’s Superbowl party. She put on one of her pre-boob job shirts, a pink lycra top—and no bra. She looked fantastic. I didn’t say anything, I knew if I told her how great she looked she’d get self-conscious and change. But in spite of my silence, as we were leaving the house, she lost her nerve and threw one of my old blue work shirts over the pink lycra. She kept it unbuttoned enough that you could see that she was wearing something tight and intriguing under the man’s shirt—but she was still covered up.
The party was at a friend’s in the valley, we were all gathered around the giant screen TV, eating chips, messing around as usual. Most of our friends don’t take the game very seriously. We talk through the whole thing, sometimes pausing to watch the insanely expensive television commercials. But two people were riveted by every moment, every play, every pass—Janice and another guy who we hadn’t met before—Greg. He was a big dude in his 40’s, his clothes all just a little more expensive then what the rest of us were wearing. They got into an argument about one of the ref’s calls and Greg laughed at Janice’s argument. I knew this would steam her, nothing bothered her more than not being taken seriously. She turned to me and whispered, “Who the hell invited this jerk?”
Janice’s team pulled ahead, she started talking trash about Greg’s team. Saying that they were falling apart out there, that the game was as good as won, that they wouldn’t even make the spread. Greg disagreed.
And then somehow it turned into a bet. Janice smiled back at me—in all the years I’d known her she’d never lost a bet. In fact it was a joke in previous years that she won so many of the “wanna bet” moments that none of our friends would ever bet with her.
“All right, tough guy, put your money where your mouth is. What’ll you bet?” Greg said he’d bet five hundred bucks.
Janice said that she’d bet, but that she was a student and she wouldn’t bet more than she could lose. Greg said, “All right, if my team doesn’t score again, I’ll pay you five hundred bucks. But if they do score again, then you take off that big shirt and show us what you’re hiding under there.” Janice smiled, this was free money, plus it wasn’t such a risk since she was wearing the lycra top under the work shirt. She’d worn it in public a dozen times before—but with a bra and before the boob job.
Greg’s team scored almost immediately. And I could tell that Janice didn’t think it was such a great deal, after all. She finished her beer in a single gulp and stood up, fumbling with the buttons. People were watching, this was the most exciting thing to happen at the party. She tugged off the blue shirt, revealing the skin-tight pink lycra crop-top, her flat hard stomach—and those big, round tits. She was showing a lot of cleavage, her nipples were just barely, tantalizingly visible under the shiny, stretchy fabric. It was the first time anybody but me had really gotten a look at her new body.
Our friends cheered and applauded! She bowed quickly, trying to make a joke out of the whole thing and then sat down next to me, blushing like crazy.
I whispered to her, “You look great.” Greg smirked at her, she mumbled to me that she was going to get this guy.
The game continued and Janice and Greg got into another disagreement. Janice was sure that her team had it tied up. “You guys are getting slaughtered, live with it!” And then he started the betting thing again.
“Did you see the Mustang outside?” There was a beautiful 1965 Mustang parked in the driveway, Janice had lusted after it on the way in, after we’d parked our sensible VW.
“If my team doesn’t score at least three more TDs—it’s yours.”
“Listen, if they make three more touchdowns I’ll—I’ll blow you!” Sometimes Janice will say things like that—she can’t stand to be topped by anybody. The room rocked with laughter.
Nobody thought she meant it, of course.
But when Greg’s team made another touchdown, I stole a glance at Janice—she was stony-faced. No reaction at all...
Then a second touchdown... The room got quiet. Janice held my hand, her palm was sweaty and I could see her breathing change. I leaned over to her and whispered, “It’s just a joke, Jan, nobody’s taking that seriously.”
She nodded. And then... A third touch down.
You could hear a pin drop. Someone muted the TV. Nobody was paying attention to the game.
Greg got up from his chair. “Well? Shall we?”
Janice didn’t say anything, she wouldn’t look at Greg—or at anyone else.
I smiled at Greg, “Come on, man. Forget it, it was a joke.” Greg was dead serious. “It was a bet. I chose to bet my car, she chose to bet... something else.”
“Forget it, she’s my wife, for Christssakes.”
“She’s your wife and you didn’t say anything when she made the bet. You would have taken my car without a second thought.”
“We would have never taken your goddamn car.” Greg didn’t answer me, he just looked at Janice. I felt as if he was putting some kind of spell on her. She finally met his gaze and a tremble seemed to go through her body.
The host of the party got up and asked Greg to leave, there were five other guys there, we wouldn’t have any trouble throwing him out on his ass. Suddenly Janice spoke up. “No, no. I—I made the bet. I made the bet.”
My eyes almost popped out of my head. “No, Janice! No!”
Greg didn’t pay any attention to me.
“Where? Here or...?”
Janice motioned toward the bedroom, the two of them started walking back there, her eyes were glowing with tears. “I’m sorry, Danny.”
I tried to stop them but Janice shook her head at me.
And suddenly the moment was gone, they’d disappeared into the bedroom. The door closed with a heavy thunk.
“This is just gross.” Two of our single women friends mumbled and left in a huff.
But the rest of our friends just stood there, and now they were staring at me. I stood there, and drank my beer. There was no sound from inside.
I thought about what to do next, should I break the door down? Should I leave? After all, my wife was fifteen feet away from me, presumably blowing another guy. Should I get a gun and shoot the fucker? But the thing of it was, he hadn’t forced her... she’d gone in there of her own accord. Sort of.
Paranoid thoughts flew through my head, did Janice already know this guy, was this some kind of joke...? But my gut told me this was no joke.
I tried not to visualize what was happening.
Should I divorce her for this? My head was spinning, I felt as if the floor was dropping out from under me. I sat down. And stared at the muted television set. The fact that this was all happening in broad daylight, surrounded by friends just made it all the more unreal.
My friends started moving again. One blessed soul refilled my beer. But nobody said anything. It seemed to take forever, it felt like three hours—but I think it was about twenty-five minutes. Could a blow job take that long? What was going on in there?
And then there was a sound from that closed goddamn door. It was her. It sounded like she was cumming... or was she crying out for help? I ran over to the door. “Jan! Are you all right? Are you all right?” I pounded on the wood. “I’m breaking this door down if you don’t say something.”
The door swung open. Greg smiled at me, zipping up his pants. “Don’t break down the door. Everything’s fine, see?”
Janice was standing behind him, fully dressed. Her hair disheveled, her face sweaty and flushed. She walked out and I could see that her nipples were sticking out like pencil erasers, I’d known her for eight years and I’d never seen them like that.
She spoke to me in a very low voice, “Can we go now?”
I took another look at Greg, his little smile never faded, he hitched his pants slightly. I caught a glimpse of a gigantic lump between his legs. That couldn’t all be him, could it?
Janice and I walked out of there without saying a word to anybody. I didn’t know what to feel, what to say. I felt incredibly turned on, but that made me even more ashamed and humiliated.
We drove in silence for a long time, we were about ten minutes from home, in one of the canyons when Janice first spoke. “He’s so huge.”
“Like how huge?” I couldn’t believe I was asking. I couldn’t believe a lot about that day.
“Pull over. Please, just pull over here.”
“Are you all right?”
She got me to pull over into a driveway on a side street and she was suddenly all over me. Kissing. Pulling off my clothes. Tugging off that shirt and showing me those magnificent big tits.
I reached between her legs. Her pants were soaking, it was like she’d peed all over herself but it was all her juices. “Did you fuck that bastard?” “No, that’s all me.”
She was wetter than I’ve ever felt her. I slid into her more easily than I’d ever done before. We screwed like crazed weasels, Janice on top grinding into me, her eyes squinted shut. She whispered “Greggggg”.
Usually Janice cums first, this time was different. I did the things that usually pushed her over the edge, tickling her back, squeezing her ass, changing my stroke, sucking her nipples.... But she couldn’t cum. I came and continued fucking her, but eventually we just separated, panting, sweaty, dissatisfied. Neither of us said a word. We drove home.
That night, after we went to bed, neither of us could sleep. She haltingly told me what had happened in the bedroom with Greg.
She walked in the room, she was angry and nervous and maybe, she admitted to me, just slightly excited. Mainly she was just wishing that this would be over with and in a hurry.
Greg just stood there. Janice went to the bed said, “Well, go ahead, take your little thing out. Let’s get this over with.”
He told her not on the bed, he wanted her to kneel in front of him. “And how about you show me those big tits of yours, huh?”
She told him to forget it, she was going to give him the blow job and that’s it.
“One more bet.”
“No more bets... please.”
“Just one. I bet that you come before I do.”
“You’re not touching me.”
Greg explained the new bet. Janice would give him the blow job, he wouldn’t fuck her, or even lay a hand on her. And, if he came before she did, he’d guarantee that she’d never see him again. If he saw us at a party, he’d leave without a word, if he saw her on the street he’d cross the street. He wouldn’t even talk to any of our friends, eventually the whole incident would fade into history.
“Sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?”
Greg looked her over, “The catch is that if you cum first I reserve the right to call you on the phone.”
“That’s it? Let’s go.”
Now let me make it clear, Janice never liked giving blow jobs, she’d do it on special occasions. I think the only reason she’d even said anything about blow jobs to begin with was that she liked to shock people. So the idea of cumming from blowing Greg seemed ridiculous, it was a distasteful, slightly disgusting task, not an erotic thing for her. She didn’t even like the guy.
She kneeled in front of him. He unzipped his pants and took it out—the biggest dick she’d ever seen. My dick isn’t exactly small, it’s 8 1/2 inches long and pretty thick. But Greg’s dick was easily four inches longer. Janice was trying to play it cool but she gasped.
And, to her own surprise, as soon as she saw the cock she really, really wanted it.
Greg stopped her. “I’m releasing you from your obligation. You don’t have to suck my cock. Forget about the bet... you can leave right now... if you want. We can tell people we were just screwing with their heads.”
When Janice told me this, she looked away from me, ashamed. Because, even though he’d given her an out, she opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around Greg’s cock. She didn’t know why, she just had to. She couldn’t resist it.
So my wife started sucking Greg’s dick, she told me it was like trying to blow a soda can—almost too big to get into her mouth.
And then the damnedest thing happened. It felt to Janice that, as she was sucking on Greg’s cock, someone was sucking on her clit. For a moment she was startled, she actually felt her crotch to make sure no one was there... But then the sensations overcame her.
And it felt like nothing else ever had. She pulled Greg’s cock down her throat, the deeper she took it, the stronger the sensation in her pussy and her clit. She could actually feel her cunt throbbing...
And then suddenly Greg pulled his big cock out of my wife’s mouth. She tried to get it back in her mouth. He took a step away from her.
Janice’s voice trembled. “Please, let me finish.”
Greg was as calm as if he was ordering a pizza. “I don’t think so. I don’t want any more right now.”
“Greg, please.”
“Well, I would like to see your tits.”
She quickly lifted the spandex top. Even imperturbable Greg was impressed. “That’s quite a rack you’ve got there, Janice.”
“Touch them, Greg. Touch them.”
“Not right now. Maybe you’d better take care of them yourself.” He zipped his pants up.
She was still on her knees before him, begging him to do anything he wanted to her—and he wouldn’t touch her.
She started playing with her nipples, but still she felt empty. Desperate, she clasped her legs around one of the wooden feet supporting the bed. She shoved her pussy, still in her jeans, into the round smooth mahogany. It was a poor substitute for a cock.
“Greg, Greg, please. I’m begging you.”
“I promised not to touch you.”
“I—I don’t care about the fucking promises. Please, please, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me right now.”
“Your husband is in the living room.”
“I don’t care, I don’t care. Don’t do this to me, don’t leave me like this. Please, I’ll blow you, please let me blow you. I need your big cock, please.”
“What if I want you to get on all fours so I can fuck you up the ass?”
“Go ahead, please, I want it. Do me up the ass. Do whatever you want with me, just, just do it now!”
“Well, I won’t touch you. I did promise. But I will do this...”
He moved over to Janice, put his face a few inches from her and gently breathed on her nipples. That’s all he did, just a.... breath.
And that’s when she came! She screamed. She had the biggest orgasm she’d ever experienced, and the guy hadn’t even touched her. That was the sound I’d heard from outside the door.
Greg smiled at her as she lay sprawled, trembling on the floor. He whispered, “I’ll be calling you.” Janice could barely speak, “When?” “When I feel like it.”
And then there I was outside the door, knocking, yelling for Jan. She barely had time to pull her pants up and her top down before Greg opened the door.
As we lay in bed all I could think was that I screwed her for an hour and she couldn’t cum. This guy just BREATHED on her and she blew a gasket.
The phone rang. Janice picked it up. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” She handed me the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”