Oh Yeah? Wanna Bet

Ethan, my husband, and I weren't virgins when we first became a couple but not by much. Putting it politely, our experience between the sheets was limited. I had lost my virginity the summer after high school graduation, had one other, fairly disappointing relationship in my freshman year in college and then started dating Ethan. He on the other hand, claimed to have started earlier than me and had slept with--count them--three women before our first date.

We met at mixer in our dorm the first week of school but evidently there wasn't any electricity because he didn't remember me. During our second semester, we were paired as lab partners and this time we both felt a connection. Our first date left us both feeling like we had met someone special and soon all of our friends knew that we were a couple. Neither of us dated anyone else for our remaining time in college or, I hope obviously, since then. We were married the summer after graduation and I think we've been very happily married. I know I'm happy and I try my best to make him happy too.

Even after that second meeting, it took us a while to end up in bed together. There was certainly some shyness on both our parts and disappointment in our previous experiences. Neither of us pushed and maybe that was good since it gave us the time to get to know each other and to really know we were in love before we did it.

For the rest of that school year, we could have been in high school as far as how sophisticated we were in our relationship. We had lunch or dinner together several times each week, sometimes in the dining hall and sometimes at a place in town that didn't strain our budgets. We'd catch a movie or go to some event on campus at least weekly. And we found time and a place to make out.

Ethan kissed me on our third date. His hands never got close to my boobs until two months later and only over my top. It was almost the end of the semester before I sat on his sofa topless as we made out. We both took summer school, at least in part so we could stay near each other for the first month of summer break and that's when it finally happened. He never pushed me to go further than I was comfortable with but I admit that, if he had, it wouldn't have taken much to push me into his bed.

Since it was summer, I started with fewer clothes on to begin with and maybe that's why they came off so easily. We sat on his bed and he kissed me. Soon, my halter was gone and there was nothing under it. I had started taking his shirt off too so I could touch his chest as he touched mine. When we had moved into shorts weather, he added touching my bare legs to touching my bare boobs but the bottom of the shorts was a barrier that he never tried to breach.

He was moving his hand up and down my leg as we kissed and I was pretty much in heaven as his fingers danced along my inner thigh toward my girl parts. Somehow, I moved in a way that ended up with his hand right on my crotch (although still outside my shorts!). Ethan now claims that I did it on purpose but I'll deny that until the day I die. I've accused him of taking advantage of how distracted I was to grope me. He denies that too.

Regardless of who did it, there we were. We were both bare chested and wearing shorts and his hand was where it was. I first gave him a look of surprised shock and then decided "what the hell" and went back to kissing him. He had started to remove his hand thinking he had made me mad but evidently read my kissing him as approval. Soon, my shorts were off, then his shorts, then my panties and finally his boxers.

We had both grown up hearing the lessons of safe sex and (yes, my face turned red) I had come prepared with a condom in my purse. His face didn't turn red but he had one in his drawer. We ended up using them both. No, not at the same time.

Once we got past that first time, we had sex a lot. As often as we could. Several times a week. When summer school finished and we each returned to our homes, one or the other of us made the drive once a week for the rest of the summer. We were in love and we wanted to show our love to each other.

There was no comparison between sex with Ethan and my first two attempts at it. No one's first time is good so don't even ask. Number two was nice because we made out for a long time and I was fully lubricated for him to enter me. Unfortunately, we had made out for such a long time that finished almost as soon as he entered me.

With Ethan, sex was nice. He was gentle and it lasted long enough for me to get some pleasure from the feeling of fullness he gave me and his movement in and out of me.

No, I didn't climax but from what I read, I didn't expect to from having him in me. Some girls apparently can't ever climax during sex and some can't climax at all. I never experienced the big orgasm that I had hoped for but I loved the feeling of sex even if I had to finish myself later. And I really loved Ethan, in and out of bed and knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. All in all, I felt like I had a pretty good deal.

* * * * *

Fast forward a few years. We'd celebrated our third anniversary and I had long ago gotten over my disappointment that I didn't experience the explosive orgasms that I read about when I was younger. That was fiction, this is real life. My real life includes a job that I find fulfilling, a house that is perfect, and a husband who I love deeply. We don't have children but otherwise, any thought that we're missing something gets pushed away and I just count my blessings.

The almost every night sex of our early days has tapered off and we usually made love two or three times a week. Sometimes more and sometimes less. We do it as we're getting ready to go to sleep. I know that Ethan wants to have sex because his good night kiss lingers a little longer than normal and his hand goes to my left boob like there's a magnet there. I pride myself on the fact that, in three years of marriage and the years before, I can count the number of times I've said no to Ethan on one hand.

I also pride myself on doing special things to make him happy. Once, having had a couple of drinks more than normal--I forget what the occasion was--he confessed that he had a fantasy about oral sex. I didn't know this and was pleased that he told me. I had a basic idea of the mechanics from my reading and discussion with girlfriends back in my younger days. I lay next to him, facing his feet and placed my mouth over him. His thing was pointed right at me and I put my mouth over it and then moved up and down until he started to climax.

I wasn't expecting the amount that ended up in my mouth and I ran into the bathroom to spit it out and brush my teeth again. When I got back to bed, Ethan was still awake enough to thank me before he dozed off.

So, I wasn't going to get anything that evening but I cuddled against him and listened to him snore. I was bemused by the fact that he had a secret fantasy and I felt proud that my husband made a request and that I did this for him. Feeling daring, I started to leave a hand towel near the bed so I could do it again for him and have something to catch it in or at least to spit into.

* * * * *

Have you ever been watching a favorite movie and you can't think of the name of one of the stars, even though you've seen him many times? My Cousin Vinny--the best movie ever made. Ethan laughed at me when I first said this but now he joins me in watching it at least once a year and anticipating the best lines together makes it more fun.

Of course, the judge was played by Fred Gwynne. I know that. I knew that then. I just didn't remember and I made a comment about him, calling him by the name of some other actor. Ethan politely corrected me. I less than politely told him that, no, he was wrong. Whose favorite movie was it anyway?

He didn't argue but I didn't want to let it drop so I told him that he shouldn't argue with the person who knows everything about the movie. I don't know why I kept arguing since he wasn't arguing back but I was annoyed that he would correct me when I obviously knew what I was talking about.

Finally, he got tired of this one-sided argument and paused the movie. "Okay. Wanna bet?"

Did I want to bet? What was he talking about now?

"I mean if you're that sure, put your money where your mouth is."

He starts the movie again and we watch for a minute. Then I take the control and pause it. I decided to humor him. "Bet what?"

"What do you want?"

I thought for moment and got an idea. "It's my turn to clean the bathrooms this weekend so if I win, you have to do it instead." My least favorite household chore and I'd be happy to let him do it. That would teach him to argue with me.

"Fine. If you win, I'll take your turn on the bathrooms."

I look at him suspiciously. "What do you get want if you win?"

"Why do you care? You seem pretty certain that you're going to win."

"I am. I'm just wondering what else you're going to not get besides the time you'll spend cleaning the bathrooms. Make it good since it's not going to happen."

"Okay." He looks at me for a while then finally speaks. "If I win, tonight, you give me a blowjob right here. I get to cum in your mouth and you swallow it all."

I turned bright red. Did he say swallow it? Yes, he did. I really love doing something to make my husband happy so I let him climax in my mouth but I haven't ever swallowed it. It's not the taste although I don't keep there long enough to taste it for long. It's the texture that I don't particularly like. Swallow it?

It's a stupid bet since I know I'm going to win so... "Fine, if that's what you want to bet."

Hubris. Of course it's Fred Gwynne. Of course. I know that.

I also know that I'm going to have to clean the bathrooms this weekend since it's my turn.

And, I'm going to have to do that other thing.

"Right here? In the living room?" I asked him as the credits rolled.

"Yup, right here. In fact, I want you to just kneel in front of me naked as you do it."

Being nude in front of my husband wasn't anything unusual. After all these years, I don't think we had anything to hide from each other. But kneel?

Well, okay, he was rubbing it in. I had really given him a bad time and then I lost so he was entitled to tease me a bit. "Your wish is my command, master" and I undressed.

As I did, he went to the linen closet and brought back a towel. I looked at it hopefully but no, it was for him to sit on. He got undressed and sat down on the couch, watching me.

I knelt down in front of him and put my hands on his legs then ran them up toward his hips. I'm feeling a bit chagrinned but I'm going to make the best of this and I'm going to give my husband what he wants in the best way I can.

I take it in my mouth and start to move my head up and down like I normally do. As I move up to the end, it pops out of my mouth. Instead of just putting it back in, I lick the bottom side of it and I'm surprised to hear Ethan reacting so I do it a few more times. I've discovered something new that he likes!

I alternate between licking and my normal way of moving my mouth. Finally, I feel him spasming and I know what's about to happen. Normally, I'd be reaching for my towel but a promise is a promise and a bet is a bet so I brace myself for something new. He starts to shoot into my mouth but instead of pulling away, I keep moving my mouth up and down which seems to make it last longer. My mouth feels full of his stuff and I swallow as fast as I can.

Finally, it's over. I resist the urge to run to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Instead, I join him on the couch and we cuddle together. I imagine that I can still feel him in my mouth and I definitely could taste it but it wasn't that bad. I could handle it since it made him so happy and besides, that's what I get for making a stupid bet.

We walked to our bedroom, still holding each other tightly and after we go through our bedtime routines (and I do get to brush my teeth), we cuddle for a while before I hear the sounds of him sleeping. I get out of the bed as smoothly as I can so I don't wake him and walk to the hall bathroom. I close the door before I turn on the light.

I pull my nightgown off and stare at myself in the mirror then put the toilet lid down and sit on it. It's not unusual when we make love that I quietly finish myself off after he's asleep. I'm not complaining--it's just how things are. Now, I know that even though I didn't have him in me, I am as aroused as I normally would be and I can't wait.

I reach down between my legs and start the circular pattern that I've used since I first discovered masturbation. It doesn't take long before I feel my heart rate and breathing speed up and a tightening in my vagina. Soon, I have a climax and, after I catch my breath, I wipe down the toilet which I've dripped on and I return to bed.

Before I close my eyes for the night, I think about what happened tonight. Not the stupid bet but how Ethan used it to tell me about something that he wanted. Something that he may have not felt comfortable asking me for directly. Maybe we could make more bets so that he could win things he wants. That way, I'd learn more things that I could do for him.

Plus, maybe I'd win sometime and honestly, there are some things that I'd like that I'd be embarrassed to ask him directly.

* * * * *

It was several weeks before it seemed right to talk about it to Ethan and he gave me the opening. We were cuddling on the couch, watching another favorite movie. It was his turn to pick and we were watching Bull Durham. The scene where the older woman character tied the younger guy to the bed and read poetry to him always cracked me up. This time though, it made me wonder what something like that would be like.

I must have reacted to this thought by squeezing his hand because he looked at me, squeezed back, and smiled at me. I settled back onto his chest and we continued to watch the movie. After a while, I got up to refill my wine glass and bring him another beer and when I sat down, he asked "you aren't going to make any bets about who's staring in this one."

I didn't respond for a while but then jumped in. "Why? You worried about losing this time?" He laughed and squeezed my hand again, then repositioned his arm around my shoulder. I don't know if he intended this, he probably did, but his fingers rested on the top of my breast and I started to feel aroused. I assumed that he was signaling me that he would want to have sex later and guiltily, I anticipated climaxing when I snuck into the bathroom after he went to sleep.

After the movie ended--I love how he comes back to her at the end--I turned to him and smiled. "I have to admit, I liked our last bet."

"Even though you lost?"

"Yeah. Even though I lost. I liked that I got to make you happy."

"You always make me happy" he defended himself against something I hadn't meant to say.

"I'm glad to hear that but I learned about something you wanted that I didn't know you wanted. I assume that you had thought about it before."

"Well, yeah but I didn't say anything since I figured that you wouldn't want to do it."

"Why did you figure that?" I asked.

"I just did. I like how it feels when you use your mouth, but you're always in such a hurry to spit it out that I figured I should be grateful for what I got instead of asking for more."

I had to think about this before I answered. "The first time I used my mouth, it was a surprise when you climaxed and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. It felt funny in my mouth and tasted funny so I got rid of it. After that time, I just did it the same way. If I had known that you wanted something, I probably would have done it."

"It wasn't a major deal to me but it was a turn-on when you swallowed it. Maybe it's just because I feel so close to you, so in love with you at that point, that I hate when our connection is broken by you moving away from me right at that point.

I pictured myself running to the bathroom or spitting into the towel and I felt guilty since I hadn't thought about how he might feel. When we make love in the normal way, I love the feeling of him in me and I want him to stay there forever even after he finishes. When he pulls out, it does break our connection. If I feel that, why am I surprised that he feels it too?

My train of thought was making me nervous and I had to think about it for a while before I said anything. I've been satisfied with our sex live and he's always given me the impression that he was too. Now, he's told me that I wasn't the giving wife that I've always pictured myself to be.

But was I being fair to myself? He had never given me hints that there were things he wanted and I'm not a mind reader. I thought that I had done everything and anything he had asked for. What else was he missing? So, I asked him directly.

Ethan paused before finally answering. "I guess there are somethings that would make our sex live better but I don't know if I want to just list them. I don't want you to think that I'm not satisfied. I am. I love you and I'm very satisfied. But... but, I wonder at times if it can be better."

I waited for him to make a request. Or give me a list of things he'd like. Or to give me a hint of anything more than "it can be better." But he stops and looks far away from me.

I thought back to when we first became a couple and then when we finally began to have regular sex. I had read stories, okay, they were usually romance novels about woman who have climaxes that take their breath away. I had heard friends make comments about "the big O" they had had with their boyfriends. I figured that the books were fiction and my friends were either lucky or making it up. Instead, my past experience became my future expectation. I enjoyed what I had and didn't expect that anything would change.

Sometime, finishing for myself after Ethan had gone to sleep or, on rare occasions when something made me feel aroused and I touched myself when he wasn't there, I had returned to my early wondering about whether this really was it. I reminded myself that this was real life and not fiction and that, all things considered, my real life was pretty good.

But now, I've learned that Ethan has also had the same question about if there can be more. I get a flash of panic--if I don't give him what he wants, will he seek it somewhere else? But how can I give him something that he doesn't tell me he wants.

He breaks my silence by pointing me in a direction that I had never imagined us going. "Can sex be better for you? You've never told me what I can do it make it better for you."

No, I hadn't told him so I was just as much to blame. But how could I? Of course I knew that there were things that some men did that women apparently liked. I remember a comment from a college friend about "sitting on his face for an hour" and how I turned bright red when she answered my question explaining what that meant. Then I wondered if I would like that and decided it didn't matter. I could never ask Ethan to do that and, if I did ask, I assumed that he wouldn't agree to it. But was this assumption wrong?

Instead of trying to give him specifics, I hedged. "I'm sure that there are things but I haven't really thought about them."

It strikes me that, as happy as I am that Ethan and I found each other early, it was also a disadvantage. If he had slept with more than three women before me, maybe they would have done stuff that he would have liked and that he could have taught me about. I can't escape the flip side of this. If I had had sex with more than two guys, would I have experienced things that I would want? Could I have been experiencing that "big O" with Ethan during our years together instead of sneaking off the bathroom to quietly climax by myself?