Explicit Proposal

It all began with having had a little too much to drink one evening with my friend and neighbour, Marc. Marc, the consummate ladies' man, was nothing if not self-confident; something I always found simultaneously galling and enviable. Somehow though, his charm always made even the worst of his shortcomings tolerable, don't ask me why. That night, several months ago, as we were sitting around the pool in the back of the property my wife Jen and I share, Marc proposed an extraordinary bet. He wagered ten thousand dollars that within two weeks, he could make love to my wife. If he lost he forfeited the ten thousand dollars; however, if he succeeded in bedding Jen within the allotted amount of time, I would have to leave town 'on business' for an additional week and swear never to reveal our so-called 'Gentlemen's Agreement' to her. Moreover, I had to swear not to try to actively thwart his efforts in any way.

Now you may say that even voicing such a thing should have been enough to provoke a physically violent reaction on my part. I will admit that, the alcohol notwithstanding, I was shocked and angered initially. However, in retrospect, I realize that something about Marc's proposition and the risk of watching my wife make love to another man stimulated some long buried synapse in the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind. I suppose you really had to know Marc, the nature of our friendship, and my marriage to fully understand why I did what I did - which was to take the bet! Besides, he had just started dating someone. And since Jen had always found our admittedly good-looking neighbour much too big for his britches, I felt the odds were very much stacked in my favour. It would be the easiest ten thousand dollars I'd ever earned. I'd only have to find some way of explaining our newfound wealth to my wife two weeks hence!

It was no secret to me that Marc found my wife incredibly desirable; he wasn't alone. She is a beautiful, sexy woman: soft, blond hair, a beautiful complexion, and lovely green, bedroom eyes. Then there is her figure, which turns heads wherever we go, most especially the beach. She inherited the best of both her parents genes: she's slim, fine-featured and blond like her Dutch father, and has the alabaster skin, full, sensuous lips and prodigious bustline of her Spanish mother.

Two days after Marc and I agreed to the bet (thereby leaving just twelve to go!), Jen and I had Marc and his new girlfriend Cathy over for drinks. We're all in our late twenties and Marc and I have been friends since he bought the property next to ours two years ago.

I was anxious to observe my neighbour in action. And I will admit that, right from the very beginning, he played it very smart. He was on his best behaviour, laying the charm and the compliments on thick. Cathy was very pretty and seemed quite smitten with her new beau. The conversation was light and bubbly and the martinis were going down in quick succession - in a couple of hours, the four of us were all pretty tipsy and giddy. Cathy and Jen went off to the kitchen at one point and I followed shortly thereafter for refills. As I approached the kitchen, I overheard them talking about Marc. They were giggling like schoolgirls and I heard Cathy say that Marc was "huge". The moment I entered the room however, they looked at each other, smiled, and quickly changed the subject.

When I returned with another round of martinis, I noticed that my wife was stealing glances at the front of Marc's pants and I felt a tingle of jealousy. I'm about average in that department, and had never had any indication from Jen that size mattered to her. It was clear though that Cathy's comment had at least piqued her curiosity. Everyone had a great evening and it was quite late when our two guests finally left. That night, my ears perked up when Jen asked me if I noticed anything different about Marc. I asked her what she meant and she said that he had seemed much more self-depreciating and easy-going that night, and that it was definite improvement from his usual demeanor. The charm was obviously working, but it was still an enormous leap between not finding him a boor and actually making love to him. And there were now only eleven more days to go.

Two more days passed before we heard from Marc again. It was a hot, sunny summer's day and my wife was poolside soaking up some sun. She was lying face down on one of our sun beds with her bikini top undone. I was inside making some ice tea. Through the glass door, I saw Marc

enter the back of our property from his and approach Jen. I did a double take when I saw that he was wearing nothing but an incredibly brief men's bikini swimsuit and a pair of sandals. I had never seen him wear anything but boxer-style trunks to go swimming or sun tanning. He was quite the sight. For although I'm not gay or even bisexual, I had to admit that he looked pretty damn good. He had obviously done some tanning of his own and was a pretty ripped 6'2". As he got closer to where she was lying though, pangaltı escort I couldn't help but notice the enormous wad in the front pouch of his skimpy swimsuit. It was something my wife no doubt also took notice of. I realized then that Marc's good-natured bragging had been warranted - he really did have a 'big one'. My heart began to beat a little faster when I saw her perk up and start chatting amiably with him. I was shocked when she raised herself up from the waist; resting on her elbows, her huge, fleshy breasts almost completely exposed to him while she lay there. She would have had quite the vantage point with which to check out the huge bulge in the front of his swimsuit, as his crotch was almost at her eye-level. I got a little nervous when I found myself looking at Marc objectively - perhaps for the first time - and realizing that, at least physically speaking, he had what women wanted. They talked for quite some time and I was tempted to go out there but thought that such a move might be considered meddling. He eventually left and Jen came inside.

I asked her what they had talked about and she explained that, for a surprise birthday present for Cathy, Marc had asked her if she would take some 'glamour shots' of him so he could have one enlarged and framed. Jen is a professional photographer, and in the past has taken glam shots of other friends - always women - for their husbands. This would be a first with a male subject. Again, with the image of Marc in a high-cut bikini swimsuit still fresh in my mind, I became a little anxious and asked her what he had in mind. She said it would just be him without his shirt on or in a swimsuit. Sensing that I had mixed feelings about the whole thing (but not really understanding why!), she accused me of being silly. The plan was to take the pictures that Friday - two days hence.

Friday afternoon arrived and Jen had her studio all set up. I took notice of the fact that she was wearing lipstick and eye makeup; something she rarely did unless we were going out. I decided that, rather than wait for Marc to arrive, I would concoct some story about having to dash off to the office and sneak back in shortly thereafter. That way, I thought, I could observe without being observed and perhaps get a more accurate indication of whether Marc's chances had improved any or not - with just seven days to go before I collected ten thousand dollars!

Ten minutes before our neighbour was scheduled to arrive, I hopped in my BMW, drove around for forty-five minutes then circled back - parking on the street. As quietly as I could, I crept back inside the house undetected. And from the interior balcony overlooking the main floor - although I couldn't see anything - I could make every word of the conversation taking place in Jen's studio.

Right away, I could tell that they were discussing something, and when I found out what it was my face got hot - Marc wanted her to photograph him in the nude! What was even more startling was that I could tell she was considering it! She seemed to be waffling and thought it might not be a good idea.

"What if Brad comes home, Marc?" she asked rather quietly. "He won't," he answered, knowing full well that I might indeed be lurking about the house somewhere. "And besides, Cathy would love it!"

There was silence for was seemed like an eternity before my wife finally spoke. I swallowed hard when I heard her answer.

"All right, but you have to promise not to tell my husband," she demanded.

I could hear Marc undressing while my wife was no doubt looking on. My chest was beating hard. I felt such a confusing cocktail of emotions: jealousy, to be sure, anxiety, and strange as it may seem, I had to admit to myself that I also felt excitement and even sexual arousal.

I heard what must have been the last of Marc's clothing hit the floor followed by a gasp.

"Oh my goodness!" blurted Jen. "Cathy wasn't kidding, you really ARE a very BIG boy!"

I heard Marc laugh and my face positively BURNED. I noticed something else, though, too - the erection welling up inside my pants.

"She's a lucky woman," added Jen. "You should think about doing some modeling - just not underwear or swimsuits. People would pay more attention to what's IN the underwear rather than the underwear itself."

There was the sound of her camera's shutter clicking off several frames, then some more directions about a different pose. After that, I could tell that they were about to wrap up so as quietly as I came, I snuck back out, headed back to my car and drove off.

I returned an hour or so later and Marc had left. I asked Jen how it had gone and wasn't surprised when she neglected to tell me that Marc had posed in the nude. I kept going over the conversation I had just heard in my head, my wife's "She's a lucky woman" and the tone in her voice that had sounded suspiciously like genuine envy. I was starting to get a little worried.

On Saturday, pendik escort Jen said that Marc and Cathy had invited us over to his place for another martini night. I liked the idea of Cathy being there and accepted the invitation. Now more than ever, I was dying to know to what extent my wife's feelings for Marc had changed. I knew they were getting along much better, but didn't know whether his powers of sexual attraction had had any effect on her. How does one ask one's wife that kind of thing? I decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Do you find Marc sexually attractive?" I asked.

"Why do you ask?" she replied with a somewhat surprised look on her face. I realized that the best I could probably hope for was a completely objective response.

"Generally-speaking, do you think that most women would consider him sexy?" I asked.

"I suppose so," she answered matter-of-factly. She asked me why I wanted to know. I responded by saying something obtuse about the female perspective and quickly dropped the subject.

Saturday evening was fun but I was feeling more and more paranoid and tense with each passing day. Jen looked great in her low-cut blouse and tight miniskirt. She was wearing a push-up bra that gave her a great deal of cleavage. Once again, Marc was at his wittiest and most charming. He had both women in stitches with funny stories from his days of living abroad. Once again, the drinks came fast and furiously. In a misguided attempt to relax, I drank way too much. I had almost passed out on the couch when I heard someone suggest we all go skinny-dipping in Marc's luxurious pool. I explained to the three of them that it was out of the question for me. When I bailed out, Jen said that perhaps she should too.

"Oh come on, Jen!" begged Cathy. "It'll be fun!" When Jen asked me if I would mind her joining Cathy and Marc, I lied and said that I didn't.

The three of them headed outside to the moonlit pool and started taking off their clothes. Though I was in a boozy haze, I could still hear Jen and Cathy giggling and making bawdy comments about Marc and each other.

"See? I told you he was 'gifted', Jen," said Cathy.

"Ooh la la - that's quite the rocket you've got in your pocket, Mister!" purred my wife as both women collapsed into shrieks of laughter.

"And YOU! You're so lucky, Jen. It's just not fair - you've got enough up top for TWO women!" said Cathy as she checked out my wife's enormous, seemingly gravity-defying endowments.

I heard the three of them jump into the water and begin splashing and swimming about. They sounded like teenagers out there, and I could tell that my wife found the group nudity exciting.

I staggered home on my own and passed out on our bed. I awoke to find Jen in bed beside me and we made love.

Three days passed without any sign of Marc. Those seventy-two hours felt like a thousand and seventy-two. But as of the next day he had just two days left and the whole thing would be over! I was starting to feel a little better by that afternoon. I was home alone - Jen was at work. I happened to be looking for an expensive tie clip of mine and couldn't find it anywhere. I wondered if Jen might have accidentally tossed it in with her things, so I started going through her dresser drawers. I was looking in the drawer where she keeps all her bras and panties when I came across a letter envelope that smelled like men's cologne. Curious as to who it might be from I opened it. There were several pressed rose petals inside. I started to read what was written on the expensive looking stationary. When I saw that it was to my wife from Marc, I thought my heart might stop.

It was, admittedly, a beautifully written note. In it, Marc expressed the 'strong feelings and sexual desire' he felt for her. My God, this had gone too far, I thought to myself. My head was spinning! He was talking about her body AND her heart! But I was trapped. How could I approach her about this when I knew that Marc might very well disclose the details of our so- called 'gentlemen's bet'? She would never forgive me for treating her like some high-priced call girl to be bartered for.

That evening I was so distracted I could hardly think straight. Confusing the issue was the fact that there was still something wildly exciting about the whole thing. I didn't know what to do.

The next day I really did have to travel for business - just an overnight trip - but would be back the following day. The day of my return would be the long-waited fourteenth, Marc's last chance. And then it would all be over.

I was a nervous wreck at work; so distracted that my colleagues asked several times if I was all right. I called Jen in the late afternoon - a time when she is usually home - but there was no answer. When I got home the following afternoon, there was a small package addressed to me in the mailbox. It had obviously been hand-delivered - there was neither a return address nor any rus escort postage. Jen wasn't home.

I opened the package and inside was an unmarked video cassette. Curious as to what it might be about or who might have sent it to me, I sat down in front of our huge screen TV, inserted it into the VCR and pressed 'play'. Seconds later, my heart sank.

The tape began with Marc, standing in front of what must have been a video camera mounted into the upper corner of his bedroom. He had a remote in his hand, having no doubt just hit 'record'. He was naked except for a pair of stretchy, silk boxers. After setting the remote down, he left the room and several minutes elapsed with nothing but his huge bed in view. Then suddenly, he appeared again. But this time there was someone else with him - my wife!

Jen was wearing a tight top that emphasized the size of her chest and a pair of skin tight lycra shorts. I'd rarely seen her wearing such skimpy attire in public before. My heart beat a little faster when Jen gave Marc a warm hug. The two of them sat down together on the bed; Marc had obviously hidden a sound boom somewhere as I could her their entire conversation perfectly. He thanked her for coming over and proceeded to explain to her that he had broken off his relationship with Cathy. She was obviously shocked and asked him what had happened? He turned to her and asked if she'd received his note. Looking down, with a sad expression on her face, she answered that she had. Marc confessed to her that SHE was the reason he had broken it off - that his obsession with her had convinced him that the timing was wrong for Cathy and him. I felt a drop of perspiration trickle down my back.

"Am I crazy?" he asked her. Somewhat reluctantly, she responded by shaking her head 'no'.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Jen!" he said. "You know how I feel about you. Please tell me it's reciprocal."

There was a long pause, where Jen was obviously searching for the right words. Then, she looked into his eyes.

"I love my husband," she said. "But the truth is that I find you VERY sexually attractive."

The two of them stared into each other's eyes until Marc leaned over and kissed my wife gently on the lips. I felt dizzy, yet there was an unmistakable tingling feeling emanating from between my legs. Their kisses quickly became deeper and more passionate. Marc placed his hand on her huge breast, softly massaging her nipple. I watched as my wife's hand made its way to Marc's silk covered groin. He leaned back on the bed and parted his thighs to allow her more unobstructed access. I could just make out what looked like the outline of his penis running along the length of his shorts. But that couldn't be, I thought - it looked impossibly big! As if on cue, he stood up. Jen reached over and slipped off his baggy silk underwear.

"Oh my God!" I gasped out loud. Marc had the biggest cock I'd ever seen! Still semi-flaccid, it had to be at least nine inches long and as thick as her wrist. I had no idea he was THAT well hung! Understandably, my wife seemed mesmerized by his massive endowment. My heart felt like it would burst and my face felt hot once again. My own cock was instantly as hard as a rock, so I unzipped my pants to release the pressure.

Jen sat Marc back down on the edge of the bed and began to lovingly stroke his manhood to its full size. The circumference of it was such that her hand could not grasp it all the way around.

"Oh Marc, it's so big and hard," she gushed. "Can I kiss it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she knelt between Marc's muscular thighs. Gripping his gigantic stalk with both hands, she opened her mouth as wide as she could - managing to get little more than the enormous, purplish head into her mouth. Marc sat back on his elbows and looked on with obvious satisfaction as my wife's head bobbed up and down between his parted thighs.

"That's it, sweetheart," he said softly, running his fingers through her hair. "Wrap those beautiful, voluptuous lips around my big dick and suck."

As the incredible scene played out on the wide screen TV in front of me, my jealousy gave way to incredibly intense arousal and I began to stroke my own erection.

Next it was Jen's turn. Marc stopped her just before it looked like he was about to pump his seed down her throat - something she seemed all too eager to do, yet is rarely willing to do for me.

He peeled off her tight-fitting short shorts, had her lie on her back, and, with her legs spread wide, began exploring her nether regions with his tongue. Her eyes closed and she let out a soft moan. While Marc slowly worked my wife's clitoris with his tongue, she removed her top and traced circles around her palm-size aureoles with her fingers. Her nipples quickly became swollen and puffy, the nipples themselves sticking out almost an inch. When her hips started to buck and she grabbed his thick black hair in her fingers, I knew she was close to coming. The tempo of her whimpering increased until she took one last sudden intake of breath, shuddered, and arched her back. I could tell that she'd had a very powerful orgasm. She kissed him passionately and hungrily, thrusting her tongue into his mouth; the taste of her sex no doubt still on his lips.