Bros Befo'e Hos

Conor: Since when did it become a crime watch football with your buddies?

Diane: His friends are a bunch of douchebags. Seventeen weeks of regular season. Four weeks of preseason. A month of playoffs. Six months of every year I have to deal with those assholes. I don't know how many times I've hinted, pleaded, whined for them to go elsewhere. I even once suggested they go watch at a strip club just to get them out of my hair. But noooo... it had to be our house every fucking week.

Conor: Look, we have the nicest house. TV room. Seventy inch LED TV. Leather recliners. Got a keg on tap. Why should I have to go to a bar to watch the game?

Diane: It's the same damn thing every week. They show up early, stay for a game or two. Get drunk as skunks. Beer farts. Chips all over the floor. And Hell, I could deal with all of that, but I just don't have put up with the rest of it. I mean, I know I have big boobs. I've had them since I was thirteen.

Conor: I think Diane sort of likes the attention. She's got that young Courtney Cox thing going on, and who doesn't like the occasional compliment?

Diane: If I wear a t-shirt, I get lines about my "headlights" and questions about whether I'm cold. If I wear a button down shirt, I get asked if the "girls want to come out and play." If I happen to have yoga pants on, they make cameltoe jokes. Jesus. I shouldn't have to wear a fucking burqa in my own house to avoid being harassed.

Conor: Yeah, my buds aren't a bunch of stuck-up snobs like Diane's friends. They're more blue collar, ya know?

Diane: I don't even know where that fucking affectation came from. The four of them grew up in Bethesda, for Christ's sake. Tibor's father was a diplomat or something. Brad is a lawyer. A bad, personal injury lawyer, but still a lawyer. They have no reason to act like dockworkers.

Conor: They're just regular guys. They like to have a good time. Drink some beers, check out the cheerleaders, root for the Ravens. Regular. Fucking. Guys.

Diane: Douchebags. They even look the part. Tibor's this big, moonfaced doofus. I don't think I've ever seen him string more than three words together at a stretch. He just sits there, a blank, vaguely bovine expression on his face. He's a bartender, if you can believe it, though I can't imagine anyone wanting to drink in any bar where he's serving. Brad is a more classic douchebag. Aging frat boy, blue, often-bloodshot eyes, thining blond hair, spreading belly. He still wears polos with a popped collar. He used to be something of a lady's man, I guess, if nailing a bunch of coke-addled sorority skanks counts. Rick is a rat-faced little turd, sort of Bogie without the class, intelligence, or charisma. It's like they're trapped in their teens, but we're all pushing 30. Under different circumstances, I'd think that Conor just hangs out with them so that he shines by comparison, but truth is, I think he actually likes them.

Conor: These guys have been my bros since grade school. Yeah, they're a little rough around the edges, maybe still have some growing up to do. But I was just like them before I met Diane. When you're married, you learn to act the part. They're still working on it. Big. Fucking. Deal.

Diane: The Ravens were the Sunday night game, so even though they'd probably keep me up late with their drunken cheers, at least I figured I'd have most of the day off. So when they showed up for the pre-game show before the early game, I was already in a bad mood. I was going to have to deal with these assholes for the next eleven hours.

Conor: Steelers-Pats were the 1:00pm game. Great games with lots of playoff implications. Of course we were gonna watch that.

Diane: I was doing housework as usual. I wish I had the time to sit around on my ass all day on Sunday.

Conor: I work hard. Been doing lots of overtime since Diane got laid off. All I ask is Sundays off during football season.

Diane: Laid-off. What a fucking joke. I'm a teacher. They eliminated a bunch of position in the last budget, and then hired us back at less than half the pay with no benefits as "subs." All the work of being a teacher, without the security, pay, or respect. Still have to get up early every day, get dressed, and sit by the phone waiting for a call that might not come. Great fucking deal. But yeah, Conor is the main breadwinner, even if he hasn't gotten a raise in three years and wasn't really hauling it in even before then.

Conor: All I'm saying is, I'm doing the best I can. She has more free time than I do, and one day a week to myself is hardly over the top.

Diane: So, I'm doing housework, vacuuming, hauling dirty laundry downstairs and folded clothes back upstairs. And those assholes are just busting my chops the whole time. "Hey, baby, since you're up can you bring me a beer?" "Damn Di, no wonder you've got a great ass, going up and down the stairs like that." "Shut that damn vacuum off, the game's on." Pointing to a cheerleader, "I'd like to see you in that outfit." And on and on and on. Just like usual.

Conor: The only reason they do it is because she get so worked up. If she just ignored them...

Diane: The next time I walk by the TV room, Rick yells out, "Damn Di, those things look even bigger than usual today. You on the rag?"

Conor: So, she stomps over to me, and says, "I'm your wife. You're gonna let them talk to me like that?" I mean, fuck, what am I supposed to say?

Diane: He looks at me and says, "Well, you know what they say, 'bro befo'e hos.'" And of course, his cretinous friends start guffawing and trading high fives. I'm like, fuck this.

Conor: She's always so serious. It was a fucking joke. I tried to tell her, "Oh come on baby, lighten up. Have some fun."

Diane: I'd had it. I hate having to leave my own house to get a little peace, but it was either that or I was gonna cut one of the motherfuckers. So I'm bringing up one last load of laundry when the phone rings. Even though I have a basket in my arms, not one of them makes a move to grab the phone. So I put the basket down, answered the phone and went upstairs to deal with an infuriating call from our credit card company about a disputed charge. I go downstairs, and see the clean clothes from the basket spread out all over the floor, with Conor's buddies pawing through my undies, Rick and Brad each wearing one of my thongs on their heads, and Conor laughing hysterically at my expression.

Conor: It was funny. How could I know she was going to totally fucking lose it?

Diane: I don't know why I did it. I just saw red. And I did the only thing I could think of that would get back at Conor.

Conor: She stands there, hand on hip, smirking, and then says, "Those look a lot better on me."

Diane: I knew I could count on Rick. "Well, you gonna show us, or are you chicken?"

Conor: I thought she was bluffing. And overreacting. "Yeah, baby, show us," I said laughing.

Diane: He still could have stopped it, but instead he decided to keep play to his buddies. So I showed them. I peeled off my jeans and pulled up my t-shirt to show off my ass, dancing around a little to tease the guys.

Conor: I could tell she was embarrassed, but also pretty angry. I was trying to figure out what to say to defuse the situation when Brad chimed in: "So, are you just stripping, or giving out lap dances too?" It was funny. I laughed.

Diane: That laugh sent me over the edge. Rick was the quickest. He whipped out his wallet and pulled out a twenty and said, "Me first."

Conor: She goes, "Well, I could use the money."

Diane: So I climbed up into his lap, and the room got real quiet all of a sudden. Conor was staring open-mouthed, and Rick's whole body stiffened up, his hands up in the air in a "no harm no foul" posture.

Conor: I was, like, what the fuck? "What the hell are you doing?"

Diane: "I'm lightening up. Having fun. Like you told me to." Can't say it was the most artistic lap dance in the world. I was basically just sitting in his lap grinding my pussy against his jeans. But it definitely worked. I could feel Rick getting hard beneath me, and he was getting red faced and breathing hard. But he was still just sitting there, so I whipped off my t-shirt and pushed my boobs into his face. Well, that got him. Suddenly his hands were all over me, squeezing my ass and mashing my breasts.

Conor: She looks over at me and gives me a saccharine smile. "Okay, I get it. You can stop now," I said.

Diane: Now it was my turn to laugh. Then I looked over and saw Brad rubbing his cock through his jeans. "Don't be shy, baby, whip that bad boy out." Funny how guys seem powerless to refuse a request from a naked woman.

Conor: So now Brad pulls out his cock and Diane goes, "Get it nice and hard for me."

Diane: It was such a cute little thing. Looked like a hairless mouse. I leaned in for a closer look, kneeling on the armrest of Rick's recliner.

Conor: She's leaning over, her butt in the air, and suddenly Rick buried his face in her ass.

Diane: He may be a rat-faced little turd, but Rick is a hell of a pussy eater. He slid my thong out of the way and just started licking me up and down from behind, all the way from my clit to my asshole, long, slow strokes that made my feet tingle. There is no way to not respond to that. It is just a physiological reaction.

Conor: She started moaning and groaning, and then she reached into Brad's lap and started stroking his cock.

Diane: Rick was eating me out so enthusiastically that I fell off my perch on the armchair. Both he and Brad caught me and lowered me to my knees on the floor between Brad's spread thighs, with my face now in his crotch.

Conor: That was right where he wanted her because Brad grabbed a bunch of her hair and started trying to press his cock into her mouth.

Diane: I wasn't sure I wanted to blow him, so I sort of scooted up and started rubbing my tits on his pecker. But when I did, that gave Rick his opening.

Conor: I was looking at what was going on in Brad's lap, so I didn't even notice Rick moving in until it was too late.

Diane: He grabbed my hips and buried his cock in my pussy. Rick may be a good pussy eater, but he's a lousy fuck. One of those jack-rabbit screws with quick, shallow little strokes. No finesse. He was just trying to get off as fast as he could.

Conor: I couldn't believe what was happening. It was like some sort of weird nightmare. My wife, on her hands and knees, titty-fucking one of my friends and getting boned from behind by the other. And they're laughing and cheering. And then Rick goes, "Eiffle Tower!" and high fives Brad.

Diane: I don't know that Rick lasted much more than thirty seconds before he pulled out and shot a load of warm goo on my lower back.

Conor: I've never seen Tibor move so fast. In a second, he was on the floor shouldering Rick out of the way. Diane threw back her head and gasped, "oh God!"

Diane: I thought maybe Rick had shoved his fist up inside me, but when I looked back I saw that it was Tibor fucking me with the biggest cock I've ever seen.

Conor: T is a big boy.

Diane: No joke, the fucking thing is the size of a 24 oz tallboy. Now, I've never been a size queen or anything, but then again I've never experienced anything like that. He was giving me these long, deep, slow strokes that made my pussy want to sigh with pleasure.

Conor: She's moaning and groaning like a three dollar whore, and then she started deep throating Brad.

Diane: Brad started trying again to get his dick in my mouth, and with Tibor stuffing me like a Thansgiving turkey, I didn't have the will to resist. So I swallowed him whole, which wasn't much of a challenge frankly.

Conor: Rick sidles up to me and goes, "Damn, looks like your wife loves that big dick." Asshole.

Diane: I look up to see Conor shoving Rick and saying, "fuck you shithead." Yeah, it made me smile.

Conor: I was pissed. "Goddamn it, that's enough," I shouted.

Diane: If anything, that encouraged Tibor to fuck me harder, pounding into me from behind and driving me over and over into Brad's lap, which I guess turned him on too because before I knew it he was coming all over my face.

Conor: When T sees Brad pop, he buried his cock all the way and dropped his own load inside her.

Diane: The whole thing took maybe five minutes. But so much for "bros befo'e hos." I mean, those guys didn't even think twice before fucking me ragged when they got the chance.

Conor: Yeah, I kicked them out of the house after that. I mean, shit, Di is a sexy bitch, but you just don't do that to another man's wife even if she is asking for it.

Diane: You don't go back to normal after that. By the time I'd showered Conor had kicked his friends out and gone out drinking by himself. I learned about that when he DUIed himself and I had to bail him out.

Conor: I guess in some ways I'm lucky that it happened. Better to find out she was a whore before we had kids rather than after. Made the divorce a lot easier.

Diane: He wasn't a bad guy. He just never learned how to handle his friends. I saw him out at one point, double dating a couple of bleach-blond, botox sisters with Brad. I'm sure that'll work out well for him.

Conor: Truth is, I got married too young. Being in your early 30s with a job is the best thing in the world. You won't believe the kind of top-shelf pussy I'm pulling down.

Diane: Funny thing, I got a call a few months after the incident. I didn't recognize the voice at first. I mean, he rarely spoke, but it was Tibor saying he wanted to buy me a coffee and apologize.

Conor: Yeah, I'm not surprised that whore ended up with Mr. Big Dick. He just better hope she doesn't happen to find an even bigger one out there. Once a slut, always a slut.

Diane: Turns out, Tibor bartends because it gives him time to write. He's working on a novel, and I've read parts of it, and it is just beautiful. In addition to having the cock of a horse, he has the soul of a poet. It's a little weird starting over, especially given how things started, but we're taking it slow, doing it right. Sometimes things just work out for the best, ya know?