Fore Play
We were set to play a round of golf with another couple one weekend last summer. My wife and I arrived at the course early and starting hitting some balls. Shortly before tee time the Ted - the husband of the couple we were supposed to play with showed up by himself. He said his wife had a touch of the flu and wouldn't be able to make it . . . but insisted he go and take advantage of the great day. We didn't mind, grabbed our clubs and off we went. It was a hot day, and my wife was wearing a sleeveless top with a semi - low neck, and a standard pair of baggy white golf shorts. The top was, however, sufficiently large to sag open each time she went to pick up a ball. We've all seen it, and we've all stared when it happens, a woman bends over, her blouse hangs open, and you can see straight down her shirt to get a good look at her cleavage and bra. My wife, unwittingly, kept us entertained about 3 - 4 times a hole doing this. Long about the 15th hole, Ted joked that it was too bad his wife was sick, that we'd never know now what might have happened if the ladies would have agreed to our bet. My wife looked curious about what this meant, and as soon as we were alone (after he'd driven off into the rough and went after his ball on the next hole) she asked just what he meant by that remark. I told her that when we made arrangements to play, we had jokingly said that the looser's wife had to give the winner's husband a hand job. She just laughed and said jokingly that Margie (Ted's wife) might agree to that, but it wasn't going to happen with her, so I'd better win. We finished the last two holes, and ultimately Ted won by a couple of strokes. Right after he sunk the winning put, I jokingly asked him if he wanted my wife to wash before or after she settled the bet. Ted just laughed as my wife - light heartedly - scowled at the two of us. After making light of the situation, we headed off to the clubhouse for a couple of cold ones after a long, hot game. The bar was nearly empty, and we had our choice of seats, so we took a table in the back - out of the sun and near the air conditioning vent. I had my usual - diet coke, and Ted and my wife teamed up to order a pitcher of margaritas (my wife's favorite). After two pitchers of margaritas, and 4 diet cokes for me, I had to excuse myself and head off to the restroom. By the time I got back, to the table, things seemed a little strange. My wife was sitting closer to Ted than I remembered (before getting up and going to the can). Although they were chatting, the conversation seemed force, almost as if it were for my benefit only. In addition, I noticed that my wife only had one hand above the table. I sat down, and the conversation continued, but seemed strained. As I sat down, it seemed as though my wife felt the "need" for her missing hand to re-surface back to the top of the table, but didn't want to move it back too quickly so as to draw attention. They both looked like two kids who'd been caught with their hands in the candy jar . . . and I began to wonder what the hell was going on. Could it be? Her hand didn't reappear, and their faces still seemed strange, so I decided to find out. As casually as possible, I "accidentally" knocked my napkin onto the floor, then bent over to pick it up. As I bent over, I subtly lifted up the tablecloth once I was all the way bent over to the floor and peered under the table toward my wife and Ted. Sure enough, my wife's hand was sitting on Ted's bare thigh . . . Ted's shorts and underwear were around his ankles, and he was sporting a now shrinking erection. It was pretty obvious that while I had gone to the restroom, the two of them were making good ono the bet. I didn't let on that I had peaked while under the table, although I could tell they suspected I had done so. Instead, I called the waiter over to the table in order to get Ted's attention. I told Ted to order another round . . . and why Ted very awkwardly began to order for all of us, I leaned over to my wife and whispered into her ear that I saw what was going on, and at this point she may as well finish the job. She started to say something back about being sorry and it was the margaritas, etc., and I leaned back to her and whispered that if she didn't finish him here and now, I'd pull the table back to expose them both. She just looked back at me and said OK. I knew that she'd reached back over to his dick and started again by the look on Ted's face as he finished with the waiter - shocked, panicked, and liking it all at the same time. I let it go for about 30 seconds, then finally spoke up and asked my wife - loud enough for Ted to hear, but not the people across the room, if Ted's cock was bigger than mine. Ted just stared at me - now knowing I was aware of what was happening. My wife stammered at first, then answered that it was about the same size. Good, I told her, I wouldn't want to come in second to Ted again today. Is she any good - I asked Ted. Although embarassed, he answered that she was doing a fine job. Then I asked my wife if she liked it. She didn't answer me, but instead asked what I meant by that. I told her I meant what I said, did she like having another man's cock in her hand. She was silent for a bit, then answered - yes. We were all silent for a bit, then I moved over beside my wife on that side of the table. Now we were all sitting on the same side, facing away from the rest of the bar. I told my wife I wanted to see what she was doing, and to lift the table cloth away to show. She didn't want a scene, so she did as I asked. There was my wife hand, slowing pumping up and down on Ted's penis. He was sufficiently excited that a generous amount of pre-cum was already oozing out of his cock and dripping down onto my wife's hand. I told Ted to let her know when he was about ready to cum. He just nodded his head. As she continued to pump his ever wetter cock with her hand, I told her to make sure and put something over it when he started to squirt - so nothing shot up above the table - I told her we wouldn't want anyone to see. She agreed, and said she'd cup her other hand over it. I told her no, some could miss, she should use the empty water glass and hold it over the head of his cock. Not long after that, Ted leaned over to her and told her to get the glass ready, that he was really close to letting it go. She tried to reach the glass, but couldn't, so I handed it to her. She quickly turned the glass upside down and put it just over and above the head of his cock . . . and at the same time started to tighten her grip on his penis and pump him harder and faster in anticipation of his cumming. Ted was right, just after she positioned the glass and started to work his cock hard and fast, Ted started filling the bottom quarter of the glass with his hot load. I watched as my wife milked his cock into the glass, each new stroke bringing another squirt of his sperm into the growing puddle of goo. Once it looked as though he was finished, my wife went to set the glass on the floor. I told her not to do that. I told her if she set it on the floor, the wait staff would find it, realize what it was, and know what had been going on. I looked at her and told her she was going to have to get rid of it. She asked how, and I told her to drink it. She said she couldn't, then leaned over to me, whispered in my ear and reminded me that she had never even drank my sperm. I just looked back at her and told her to drink it or everone in the club would know what had happened here today. Grudgingly, she raised the glass above the table, gave a quick glance around the room, then slurped down the sperm that Ted had deposited into the glass. Once she'd gotten as much out of the glass as possible, and choked it down, she quickly wiped his remaining sperm out of the glass with her napkin, and put the napkin into her purse to conceal any further evidence of her indiscretion. By this time, Ted had pulled his shorts back on, and we were all ready to get up and go. My wife was pretty quiet on the way back home. After about 15 minutes of silence, she admitted that she enjoyed jerking Ted off in front of me, and that drinking his sperm was even more of a turn on. I told her that I hoped she would enjoy watching Margie (Ted's wife) do the same for me the next week!
