A Bet's a Bet

She attacked my cock with a new vigor. It felt as though she was impaling her throat on my cock over and over. Her mouth and tongue and her hands felt amazing running up and down my cock and over my balls. Without thinking about it, I leaned over and played with her tits. They felt smooth and warm in my hands as I kneaded them and pinched the nipples. I heard her moan at that.

"Please, play with my tits, it gets me so fucking hot, put your hands on my body," Cally moaned and pleaded.

I squeezed her tits harder and let my hands roam over her freckled back and over her ass cheeks. As she gagged, I could tell Cally was inching closer down the shaft of my cock. She was playing with my balls and I realized she was trying to pull them closer to her mouth. Trouble was for all my cock, I've got barely any scrotum, it's a tight package at the base of my cock that melds seamlessly into my perineum, the taint.

After 20 minutes, I was getting ready to cum, I could barely hold on. "Concede yet, Cally?"

She took her mouth off my cock and looked at me. "Randall, fuck my throat, get your cock down my throat, even if I gag keep fucking me, I can't take that cock in my ass. Please fuck my throat. . ."

Her pleading tripped a new switch in me, a place I didn't know existed. I stood up and grabbed her head in my hands, I drove my hips back and forth, my cock sliding in and out of her mouth and throat. I'd never fucked my wife's throat like this, our lovemaking was too personal and intimate for that. Even the strippers never threw themselves at my cock like Cally was doing. I *wanted* her to take my cock past her gagging point. Without reservation I fucked her throat like the drunken, heedless idiot I turned into.

And still, no matter how hard I fucked her, past her natural limits and the gag-spittle that poured from her mouth, her tongue couldn't reach my balls. The harder I tried fucking her the closer I was to cumming. All of a sudden I went over the edge, I was going to cum and no force on earth could stop me. I kept fucking Cally's throat and hearing her gag made me lose final control. . .

Without pulling out I came stroke after stroke down her throat. She choked and sputtered. I felt the great spurts of semen launch into her. Some she swallowed but a lot she choked out to let it run down her cheeks and chin to mix with her spit and. ..were those tears running down her cheeks?

It was probably no more than 30 seconds, but I felt like I came down Cally's throat for a long time. When no more spasms wracked my cock and my hips, I pulled my slick shiny cock out of her throat.

Cally's face was wet from tears, spit, and my cum. She was breathing hard, catching her breath. I sat on the bed with my cock dripping juices onto the carpet and watching Cally's breasts heave up and down as she caught her breath. The towel was on the floor where I had let it drop and Cally pulled it over to wipe her face clean. Once she had cleaned herself, she crawled over and wiped my cock clean.

Looking up at me she said, "That was the thickest cock I've every sucked, Randall. You should have warned me."

With all the tension having shot out of me with my ejaculation, I laughed at that, "I *did* warn you!"

"I guess you're right, I should have listened," she admitted. "It's lucky for me you came, so you can't collect on our bet," she added slyly.

"Oh Cally, you'll want to grab another couple of those little bottles, because I can cum half a dozen times a night and I'm just getting started."

"Come on, Randy," she whined.

"First of all, that 'Randall', is that clear?"

She gulped, "Sorry, yes, Randall."

"And second of all," I began, then paused. My phone was lying nearby on the night stand. I reached over to it and pulled it over. Cally gave me a quizzical look. Until I brought up the phone and snapped a picture of her sitting naked on my hotel room floor.

"What the. . .what are you doing?"

"Second of all, what would your husband think if he got a photo of you in another man's room with tonight's time stamp? Pretty awkward conversation, right?"

She sat there dumbfounded. "Are you fucking *blackmailing* me?"

"Oh the picture? That's just for my personal use, for posterity, you know. I just know how unreliable digital technology can be with hacking and email piracy."

"Randall, please. . .," the situation was starting to sink in.

"I don't want to make any trouble for you, Cally, but I do want to fuck that ass of yours. A bet's a bet, right?"

She looked down at my cock that was already half hard again from just the past couple of minutes.

"And if I let you fuck me, then. . .we're cool, right?"

"Of course, I always honor my word," I held up my hand in a "scout's honor" salute.

Part 3

There was a moment of calm. What began as a sexual game had turned much more sexual and suddenly, for Cally, much more serious. She couldn't have imagined losing that bet and getting her ass fucked but a cock that wouldn't even fit down her well-used throat. Now she was on the brink of a co-worker who had her on camera naked in his hotel room readying to blast her tight asshole with his outsized cock. It didn't take much of my imagination to understand her confused, tired, and scared position.

And while the better angels of my nature wanted to let her off the hook, the pent up devils of frustration having had to put up with her company political bullshit made me want to collect on my bet. I wasn't going to be heartless about it though.

"Hey Cally, what do you say to us fucking first? It'll relax you and I bet you like your ass played with anyway."

She looked at my flaccid though still thick cock hanging down my thigh and, I couldn't believe this, smiled a little at me.

"Since I saw that fat cock, Randall, I've been hoping you'd fuck me with it. Do me from behind too, like a bitch at your cock, fuck me deep. That'll get me crazy. . .maybe enough to let you break my asshole." There was both greed and fear playing across her face.

I stepped across to wear Cally sat on the floor and lifted her up to sit on the bed. Feeling her skin on my fingertips, smelling her sweaty and fragrant hair, I couldn't help myself -- I leaned down and kissed her mouth. Tasted her salty, sweet breath, like honey roasted nuts. Cally tasted good, and smelled both of sex and of exertion. My cock stirred again thrilling for what was to come.

Either by instinct or need, Cally's hands stroked my cock as we made out on the hotel room bedspread. She worked it across her chest and her hard nipples. Her moans excited me and I became harder and thicker in her hands. Moaning louder now, Cally reached one hand down between her legs and slipped two fingers inside her well-maintained pussy. Into my mouth she breathed the words, "God fuck yes, gimme that huge cock, Randall." She was calling me 'Randall' now and I liked the sound of her compliance.

Then the fingers of her right hand were on my cock slathering it with her pussy juice. She covered my throbbing head and stiff shaft running her fingers up and down. Our tongues were insistent and urgent now, probing and thrusting deep into each others mouths. As much as I enjoyed the feel of her mouth on mine and her hands anointing my cock with her sacred nectar, I needed to fuck her and NOW.

My hands were on her shoulders and I pushed her back on the bed. She looked at me with eyes ablaze with a dark hunger, a deep unfillable need that illicit danger and hyper-sensory experience could temporarily satisfy. I grabbed her thighs and moved her legs higher and wider apart; then my hands were on her ankles, she was on her back on the bed and her ass barely supported at the edge of the mattress.

She began to say something, "I need more sup. . .", but she never finished, I pulled her legs up a little and thrust my cock inside her wet cunt. Not all the way at first, just the thick head and an inch or two of the shaft to feel her warm wetness on me.

"Ahhh,. . .God, ahhhh," Cally stifled a scream and moaned like a wild animal. "Holy shit, god, please. . .oh shit, Randall, fuck that's too big. . ."

Those sounded like pleas to stop, or at least slow down, but not to the primitive, reptilian part of my brain that ruled me now. To that muck-dwelling survivor of a thousand challenges to its being these sobs and squeals were red meat and meant it would feed and live another day. I got harder, my cock grew thicker and slide further into Cally's drenched and hot pussy.

I looked down at Cally and her eyes stared back at me. The eyes that looked back at me were not the scheming, Machiavellian eyes of a co-worker or ladder-climber, but the eyes of a rutting beast both joyful and challenged at the new boundaries of its existence. She was being stretched wide, and she loved it, and still some small warning klaxon of self-preservation bleated in her brain that this thing invading her, this cock that was bringing her pleasure, would soon likely ram itself, perhaps somewhat slowly but more likely with an undeniable force, into her all-but-virgin ass. This combination of pleasure and fear drove Cally's human niceties from the field and looked out from her yes like a Fury that would have its justice. At another time I would be scared in my guts from a look like that, but at that very moment I reveled in the raw state that was as natural for me as breathing.

"Fuck me like a bitch, Randall, turn me over and fuck me deep," Cally pleaded.

Without a though I grabbed her hips and swilled her with my cock still embedded in her. She grunted and her sweat was on my hands. Freckles and droplets of sweat covered her ass and her back. Now my hands were on her ass and spreading her cheeks wide. My cock drove deeper and deeper into her pussy.

"Stop, goddam it, fuck please just stop!" she begged. I stilled for a minute with my cock deep in her pussy, about three quarters of the way in. Just a couple inches of my cock were still visible. I didn't say a word. Just stayed still with the veins in my cock throbbing with blood.

"Okay, okay, damnit, I've gotta catch my breath, shit," Cally gulped air. "Fuck, Randy, you are stretching my pussy. . ." She didn't get the chance to finish.

The word "Randy" erased all conscious forebearance from my brain; I slammed the rest of my cock into Cally's pussy.

"Oh God, ahhhhhh, shit, sorry sorry," she sobbed.

I slid my cock out slowly, an inch at a time, as she exhaled and was about to take another breath, I slammed it back inside her.

"Ow, fuck, oh God, Randall, Randall," Cally's voice was cracking and squeaking.

I fucked her steady now, the rhythm of a piston in a recalcitrant housing, in then out, out then in, again and again. . .

"Oh holy God, oh fucking yes, please keep going, fuck me fuck me fuck me hard!" she spit and snapped into the bed spread. I was only too happy to oblige.

For one minute, then two, then three, I kept fucking her from behind. Her head buried in the bedspread, her hair wet from sweat and effort, her pussy red-raw from being stretched and abused, her back still a cello of skin over muscle and bone -- elegant, smooth, peerless. Cally's breathing was steady now and an electric purr rumbled from her throat and pulsed through her body.

We had settled into a brutal but welcome rhythm, Cally's moans came out almost satisfied, maybe even relieved -- some need was being satisfied that she hadn't been entirely aware of, couldn't have articulated, but here it was, a space that was empty being filled, a void being put right, and leaving a sense of deep happiness, the consummation of an unnamed but persistent urge. She was in a trance of hot and inescapable satisfaction.

My hands were on Cally's ass, slowly spreading her cheeks apart and working my slick fingers around the hole. She jumped a little away from me at that moment and I grabbed her hips and pulled them deeper on my cock.

"Ugh," she moaned and complied with my unspoken command.

My slick pinky worked its way around her asshole, then slowly inside. This was not her first rodea and she even relaxed her ass onto my little finger, this was a welcome and expected anal assault. I followed the little finger with my middle finger and worked it a bit deeper into her ass. As my cock fucker her pussy, my finger fucked her ass and I could feel my cock moving inside her, rubbing and pounding its way into her depths. Then it was time for two fingers. . .Cally jumped again and was rewarded with another slam of my cock to the bottom of her cunt.

"Oh fuck, Randall, God, you are a making me crazy," she breathed. "Yes, yes, just fucking do it to me, just fucking do it. . ."

I slipped three fingers into her ass now. She controlled her instinct to jump and began to pump her own pussy against my cock now. Cally was beginning to drive herself into a frenzy of orgasm. She wanted to cum now, she was losing herself to her body, to urges more ancient than consciousness, needs that were chthonic and essential to identity. We had to wear masks to hide from one another day to day, we dared not show our true faces, but here in this Orlando hotel room, drunk, and horny, and beyond the pleasantries of the real world, Cally and I were creatures out of Eden: barely named by God or Adam, pure existence the fulfilled the most basic and the most profound needs. And we were fucking, we were moving together, we were beyond any "no" or any "yes", now we were unstoppable.

As Cally pushed herself beyond rationale awareness again and again onto my cock, I slipped my cock out of her pussy, and slipped three wet fingers in. She moaned but didn't let up her pace. My cock was massive even to my eyes now, rock hard, not angry but redolent of musk -- my own sweat and Cally's cunt juices -- and fully in command. It slipped easily between the cheeks of her ass. Back and forth between her ass cheeks as my fingers fucked her pussy.

Almost gently I moved my cock head against her asshole. Her intake of breath told me she was ready, but she didn't jump. I moved it into her ass.

A sharp in-take of breath, "Ahh, ohhh, okay okay, yes," she mouthed and kept fucking my fingers.

Slowly and inexorable I slipped my cock head into her ass. Cally just grunted and drooled, I could see spittle leak from the corner of her mouth.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, make me cum, make my cunt fucking cum, fuck!"

Slick from fucking, hard from desire and frustration and disbelief, my cock slid deeper and deeper into Cally's ass. I'd never fucked anyone's ass before, the feeling was weird. . .tight, of course, dirty -- certainly!, very different from a pussy with its muscles and lubrication. I kept moving deeper and deeper into her ass.

"Oh God, mmmmmm, ooohhh, mmmmmm, Randall, oh mmmmmm," Cally threw her head back and moaned with unconcealed pleasure. "Mmmmmm, make me cum, baby, gimme all that cock. . .fuck me so fucking good. . ."

My cock was more than halfway in and my fingers were crooked in Cally's pussy around her G-spot. Her moans were coming in time to when my fingers hit a certain spot inside her. I made sure to run my fingers down that spot regularly. She nodded her head spasming and breathing hard. Meanwhile, my cock was beginning to fuck her ass, not just sliding inside her, but moving in and out now, deeper with every stroke.

"Can you fucking feel it, fuck, you can feel my cum fucking building. . .oh shit," Cally rasped out the words. "Just fucking don't stop. . .do it, fucking do IT!"

Now I was losing myself too. My fingers in her pussy and G-spot; my cock in her ass spreading it wide, beyond what it had ever felt. Suddenly my own balls tightened up with that telltale sign that I was going to cum.

"You're going to get an ass-full of cum, you whore, taking my cock in your asshole," I said. I had no idea where it was coming from but now there was no more talk.

Cally fucked my fingers and I fucked her ass. . .her orgasm arrived her and she yelled out -- a wild shriek of exalted satisfaction. She might have killed a mammoth, scalped an enemy, or defended her child. Her next whoop was into the bedspread and I could feel her gushing onto my fingers, a sacred geyser of her juices and her flavor. That downpour was the last straw for me and I felt my cock tense up and go balls deep into her ass. Then I came -- hard and long and what seemed like forever. Though I'd come less than 30 minutes before it seemed there was even more cum this time. As I came I imagined it filling Cally's ass and it made me buck and cum harder. Hot spurt after spurt.

We collapsed together onto the bed. Spent physically and coming out of an orgasmic trance. The only sound in that room was our breathing that was erratic, and harsh, and sometimes came in huge gulps that fed the worn out muscles we'd pushed to their limits.

As she lay there, I looked at Cally admiringly: the smooth curve of her ass, her muscled legs quivering a little after our exertions, the sweat running down her ribs, her hair wet and smelling of her oils and our fucking. I didn't like her, but I wanted her and realized how attractive she really was. Or how deprived I had been physically for a long time.

Casually I reached for my phone again: I looked at the time -- almost 4 in the morning -- then took another picture of Cally stretched out on my bed. I wanted to remember this moment.

She raised her head a bit, "We're good, right, Randall?" with eyes both confident and pleading.

"Yeah, of course."

"God, my ass is just. . .ow, God, I can't believe you fucked me with your huge cock." She was in pain yet still in the glow of the orgasm. I nodded in understanding.

"Can I. . .use your bathroom, to clean up, Randall?"

I nodded again. "Help yourself."

She pushed herself up off the bed slowly and in a lot of discomfort. Willing her legs over to the bathroom, she half-staggered, half-limped to the door and steadied herself there. Cally looked back for a moment, and said, "Those pictures are just for you, right?"

I nodded, "You kept your word and I'm keeping mine. A bet's a bet."

She smiled and closed the door behind her.