My Golfing Buddy and my Wife by seeshow
- I enjoy playing golf and have been playing with the same foursomeeach Saturday for about three years now. It's an easy going bunch ofguys with the possible exception of Dave who's somewhat arrogant andseems to always bully the rest of us into playing the game the wayhe wants to. Despite that, we've all gotten along fine over the lastthree years in our golf outings. However, sometimes Dave can bequite vexing, like several months ago when he and I were in the 19thhole. We had finished our game and our other two golfing fiends hadleft when the conversation worked it's way around to sex as it oftendoes with Dave. He has been recently divorced and is the envy of therest of us married guys, because without a doubt he's getting a lotmore and a greater variety of pussy then any of us "longtime-marrieds" are! I had asked him how his sex life was and hetold me that he has found it's a lot better with married women. Atfirst I wasn't sure what he meant - did he mean he wanted to getmarried again? When I asked him just that he said,
"Bob,for a guy with a college education, sometimes you can be a totaldumbshit."
I like Dave, but as I said he also is abit abrasive and arrogant. And sometimes he can really get me upset.Dave continued, "when I speak of married pussy, I'm talkingabout fucking pussies that are married to other men. More times thannot, a married woman is dying for a thorough fucking from a realman, not just the weekly ten minute diddle they are used to fromtheir husbands."
"Well, I imagine that thereare some dissatisfied wives out there, but as your friend, in thissmall a community, I can tell you it's a mistake to go aroundpropositioning married woman. You'll end up with, at least a bruisedcheek from some women's slap and maybe worse from her hubby."
Davechuckled, and quickly dismissed my cautions. "Bob, you justdon't even have any idea do you? In the past three months, I haveapproached six different married woman, and I'm batting a thousand.I've concluded that there isn't a married woman out there, ifapproached properly, who would turn down a extra-marital sexualaffair with a good-looking man."
"I don't knowwhat world you've been living in, Dave, but I suspect that if youapproached any of the married women that I know your batting averagewould quickly drop to the point that you would be sent back down tothe minors."
"Like who?" Dave stared at meconfidently.
I was totally dumbfounded. I didn't expectto be challenged on this point. My mind went blank so I tried toavoid the question. "Look, Dave, you know damn well that thereare a lot of very faithful wives living in the suburbs that youwould never be able to get into the sack."
"Who?"Dave wasn't going to let the question slide.
Withoutreally thinking it through, I just blurted out, "Well my wife,Donna for one!"
Donna and I have been married foralmost fourteen years, with two ******* to show for the venture. In allthat time, I've never had any reason to suspect Donna in anyextra-marital activities. First of all, Donna is rather conservativewhen it comes to sex. Pretty much straight intercourse, with veryrare oral sex, and certainly no anal. From the perspective offrequency, we will usually have sex 3 or 4 times a month. I knewthat Donna would never stray. In fact, when we meet she was only 16and four years later when we married, she was still a virgin. (Notthat I didn't try, but with her strong Catholic background she keptreminding me that she was saving it for our marriage- somethingwhich I was ****** to respect)
Dave smirked at mystatement and said, "Well Donna might be a challenge."
Davehad met Donna at a few social functions held by our country club.But as far as I knew, certainly, nothing -not even flirting- hadoccurred between them. Donna is always the epitome of propriety. Notthat she isn't strikingly beautiful, but she masks her 5 foot, sixinch, 122 lbs. frame and 36-24-37 figure in expensive andconservative attire. One of my unspoken complaints has always beenthat Donna's delectable ass and ample tits are never displayed in amanner befitting its magnificence. Of course, her dark reddish, longhair is always perfectly groomed and frames her high cheek-bones,pouty lips and ivory skin.
"Bob," Dave shookhis head in a condescending fashion, "do you really think for amoment that Donna hasn't fucked around on you?"
Notwanting to give any credence to Dave's outrageous suggestion, Itried to remain composed when I confidently replied, "I knowshe has never cheated and would never cheat. That's why yourhypothesis about married pussy is so wrong."
"Well,Bob, if Donna hasn't taken on any other men, it's only because shehas never been presented with the right opportunity or the rightman"
"Sure, sure, Dave, whatever you say..."My cynical response only served to heighten Dave's competitivenature.
"Look, I'll prove it to you if you doubtme...but its got to be a fair test. You can't purposefully interveneor interfere. You just give me a reasonable chance to prove my pointwithout letting Donna know that's something's up, I'll admit I'mwrong 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 anycurves in this deal. "What happens if your right?" I hadto ask.
"See, your already afraid that I'm right! Asecond ago, you thought I was full of *******....I'll tell you whatI'll make it an easy wager. If I'm right, And to make it interestinglets place a little wager on it. Say about $100." He continuedon by saying, "But you have to agree not to interfere and letwhat ever happens to happen. OK? "
I said "Deal."and wondered why I had.
For some unexplainable reason, Ilooked at Donna differently that night as she emerged from theshower. I wondered how she would react to Dave coming on to her. Iwondered whether her nipples would become erect in response to hisflirting, whether her pussy would ******* lubricate. As Idaydreamed about the possible scenarios, I suddenly imagined Donnanaked, laying on her back, her legs spread wide, bucking her pelviswildly to meet the thrusts of Dave's invading cock. Certainly, I hadnever witnessed such a scene when Donna and I make love. Although Ihad never conceived of Donna doing such things before that night,the thought of her illicitly having sex with another man had thisstrange reaction on me. Instead of being totally enraged at suchthoughts, it actually was getting me sexually aroused to the pointwhere my dick was ROCK hard!
That night I attacked Donnawith a fervor. I wanted to reassure myself of my potency. But, Donnareacted as always, reservedly and in control. Even though I fuckedher 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 skinbetween my scrotum and asshole. Donna knows that this sensationalways sends me over the edge. Even though I desperately wanted tohold off until her belly rippled with an orgasm, the sensation wastoo great, and at the last moment, the image in my mind returned toDave slamming his dick into Donna's cunt. I climaxed violently andcollapsed. With her normal grace, Donna slipped out from under meand rolled over to go to sleep. Yet, for me, these unsettling imagescontinued, until I too fell into a deep sleep.
For thenext week, I continued to be haunted by these perverse images ofDave and Donna in the throes of all varieties of sexual couplings. Ifound myself masturbating with a fervor that I hadn't known sinceadolescence. Since we only play golf on Saturdays, I hadn't talkedto Dave again during this time frame. I thought that maybe it hadjust been a lot of male talk and that when I saw Dave for our normalgame Saturday, that neither of us would even mention it. However, Ihad a little surprise on Friday night, which was the evening for alittle cocktail party at our Country Club.
My wife and Iheaded out on Friday evening to the cocktail party at our CountryClub to welcome in new members that had joined in the last year. Itwas a typically staid affair, with all the wives parading in theirdiamonds and designer duds. The husbands, with their fat wallets andbrokerage accounts, sucked down fine whiskey while sharing off-colorjokes about their bimbo secretaries and catered to the new membersto show off their knowledge of the club and the golf course.
Donnawas in her element. She was dressed impeccably in a black, backlessnumber bearing some French designer's moniker. Actually, it wasrather unusual for Donna, for it displayed her cleavage and ahealthy dose of leg. Of course, Donna had a unique way of lookingclassy and not the least bit sensual in whatever she wore.
Aftera couple of vodka and tonics, I was startled by Dave's boomingvoice. It was quite a surprise since Dave normally eschewed thesesaree's.
"Dave, what the Hell are you doinghere?"
"Bob, you cynical bastard! I'm herebecause I care deeply about welcoming our new members into theclub." Then Dave smirked, and in a quite voice said: "Youknow, Bob, I've changed my take on these quarterly cocktail parties.While I still believe that the vast majority of pussies presenthaven't had a good ploughing in the last decade, I've concluded thatthis fact presents someone like me with endlesspossibilities."
"God, Dave, you are such acomplete predator!" I replied.
With that comment,Dave glanced over towards Donna, who was engaged in some banalconversation 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 couldmuster was: "Fuck you, asshole!"
"Now,now, Bobby boy, remember our wager. Besides you're so confidentabout Donna's fidelity that there's nothing to worry about,right?"
With that, Dave made a beeline towardsDonna. On the one hand, I felt like intervening. On the other, Itruly 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'sadvances. After all he was a hell of a good looking rugged guy andhe had a smooth glib line with the ladies when he wanted to. As theevening wore on, my stomach felt oddly queasy. This feeling wasexacerbated every time I lost sight of Donna. Yet, throughout, Icould not ignore the aching in my balls that was somewhere betweenpain and pleasure.
To my frustration, Dave had succeededin cornering Donna into a long one on one conversation. This wasquite surprising since Donna was notorious for her ability to work acrowd. Many times, people would come up to Donna and apparentlyinterject themselves into the conversation. Normally, Donna woulduse the interruption as an opportunity to move on. At the veryleast, Donna would always graciously welcome the new party into thediscourse. Yet, on this evening, Donna's body language caused theinterlopers to move on after only a comment or two, leaving her andDave to themselves.
Finally, the event was coming to anend, and the caterers began to pack up. Donna remained clearly insight, and fully clothed, albeit in conversation with Dave. At last,I felt a sense of relief and victory, as Donna left Dave and walkedover to me. My elation was short-lived, however.
"Honey,I don't feel like calling it a night yet. Dave's invited us to joinhim for drinks and dancing at a nightclub. What do you say, it'll befun, especially after you've had to put up with this boringpurgatory for hours."
I had no choice but to agree.I certainly couldn't beg off and tell that I had wagered herfidelity 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. Afterall Donna had done nothing improper, yet.
Perhaps illadvisedly, I had more vodka and tonics when we reached thenightclub. The dim lights and smokey air of the club further cloudedmy self induced alcoholic haze. The loud music also rang in my earsand distorted the conversation. Dave had strategically sat next toDonna in the booth, relegating me to the other side of the table. Myinability to make out or participate in the dialogue heightened myparanoia.