The Bet - the Complete Book

"You know what kind of reputation Luca has. He's fucked half the women in this town. Am I immune, somehow different from every other woman? Marco could be a movie star. He's got the face of Apollo and the body of Adonis. Half my friends drool over him. If he weren't married, he'd be sleeping with everyone. If I had not desired to be faithful to you, I would be tempted. I have been tempted. Don't even get me started about Giovanni. He could be a mafioso; so cool, so collected. You notice he was the one who suggested you wager me; not any of the others. For all you know, he's been waiting for just the opportunity you presented because you were so fucking sure Juventus would win. I warned you, over and over again. I wasn't even telling you to stop because I wanted to fuck them. I had no desire to, but I knew if you made the bet, I'd end up fucking them. I knew what would happen even if you're too blind to see. I tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen to me. You're so pig headed. Even if I abandoned my promise to fuck them for your wagering me in your bet because I took pity on your miserable whining, I'd still end up fucking them. That's what you didn't understand; what you were too stupid to understand."

"What was I too stupid to understand?"

"You don't listen. I've explained to you why. You treat me like a whore in front of them, which makes them treat me like a whore. They would never have suggested this insane bet in the first place if you treated me like a lady and not a whore in front of them. And with three nights and two days of my being treated like a whore, groped, fingered, petted, and stroked by eight hands day and night, I will end up fucking like a whore. I would be aroused to the point of no return, as inevitable as death and taxes. Since it was going to happen anyway, I promised you it would happen, hoping you'd come to your senses." I shook my head is disgust. "You might as well get used to it. I'm going to be used by four other men and there's nothing you can do about it. You made the fucking bet, now live with it."

He turned away, dejected. Finally, he was accepting reality. There was nothing more to be said, really.

Friday afternoon at 3:00, he packed a bag of things to take to a hotel for the weekend, including his computer and iPad. I knew what he'd be using those for. As he packed, I removed my clothes, folding them or hanging them up. I didn't know what time they would start arriving, but I should be prepared. I put on some lipstick, brushed my hair, added some perfume to my neck, breasts and groin. I'd trimmed my pubic hair to a nice little patch, but decided to shorten the patch slightly, clipping it with a scissors.

Finished, I looked at myself in the mirror, Pietro watching from behind me. I looked good enough to eat, and he knew it too. I did take enough pity on him to kiss him goodbye as he left, then waited for my weekend guests to arrive.

******

Giovanni was the first to make an appearance, fifteen minutes after my husband left. I still pondered him suggesting Pietro wager my nudity for a weekend. Did he see an opening and take it, or had he been planning for a long time, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. You could not tell with Giovanni. I opened the door for him, naked as agreed when my husband bet me.

"I could see glimpses of your tattoos before, but didn't know you had the bird tattoo on your belly. What is it? A phoenix? I see it's flying towards your paradise."

"Clever. You weren't supposed to ever see it. It started as a snake, but I changed it to a phoenix for Pietro. Unless you saw me on the beach, it's meant for him, not his obnoxious friends."

"No need to be rude. I didn't wager you away. What is the writing on your arm? French isn't it? What does it mean?"

"You were the one to suggest me as a wager. I doubt anyone else would have considered it. The arm tattoo says, 'Les Folie est Mon Pain tous les Jours', which translated means 'Madness is my daily bread'. I got it before my marriage when I was young and wild."

He shrugged. "I thought he was treating you badly. You should be treated better. Pietro needed to be taught a lesson."

"I can handle my own lessons and I don't need your help to do so."

"What of the one on your shoulder and back?"

"Obviously the flowers, and the language is Hindi. It says 'until the last breath'."

Giovanni had an overnight bag with some clothes, and a grocery sack with food and several rolls of plastic wrap.

"What's all this?" I said pointing to the grocery bag.

"I thought since we'd be drinking his wife's nectar and Pietro's wine this weekend, we could at least replace some of his food. I brought ingredients for il pollo alla cacciatora. Matteo and Marco are bringing something too for tomorrow and Sunday. We didn't trust Luca to buy food."

"Why all the plastic wrap? Do you think me so bad a cook we'll have many leftovers?"

"The plastic wrap is for another purpose. You'll see."

"Come in. I'll show you to your room."

I took the grocery bag and dropped it in the kitchen on the way to the bedroom set aside for Giovanni. After he put his bag on the bed, he grabbed me and kissed me, his tongue invading my mouth. Firmly holding my ass, he pulled me against him. I resisted at first, shocked it was happening so soon, then realized there was no point, allowing myself to melt into his kiss. It wouldn't be the last time I was kissed and manhandled this weekend. Recognizing my opposition ended, he released me, though he rubbed a thumb over my nipple, testing it. It was taut, the sudden kiss arousing me. The doorbell rang.

"The others are arriving," Giovanni said. "We should let them in."

We went back downstairs, and sure enough, Matteo and Marco were outside the front door. Because Marco was so tall and Matteo so short, they looked like a comedy team standing there together. I let them in. Matteo immediately suckled one of my taut nipples, still peaked from my interlude with Giovanni. He barely had to stoop to reach them. Marco kissed my lips instead, his hand squeezing my naked ass.

When they released me, I asked, "So what did you tell your wives about where you'd be this weekend?"

"I said I was spending the weekend days with my good friend Marco," Matteo said. "I need to return home at night."

"And I said I was spending the weekend with my good friend Matteo," Marco added. "My wife's mother is staying with her and it's just as well I'm out of the house. We don't get along."

"And if your wives are clever enough to call each other to see if your stories match?" I asked.

"We both decided to visit our good friend Giovanni, and he doesn't have a wife." Matteo said.

"Why not pick Luca? He doesn't have a wife either," Giovanni asked.

"Choosing to stay with Luca is the same as saying we're out looking for other women," Matteo said. "He's a poor excuse. You don't have his reputation."

Made sense to me. I wouldn't trust my husband to go out with Luca either. While we were at the door, the aforementioned man came strolling up the walk.

He reached me, picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist while holding a cheek of my ass in each hand and nuzzling my neck.

"I'm going to enjoy this weekend immensely," Luca said. "I've been waiting to sink my cock into your sweet cunt for years."

"How do you know my cunt is sweet?" I asked, cross because he somehow assumed I would have let him anywhere near my cunt until my husband lost the bet.

Instead of answering, he just turned me upside down, burying his mouth in my pussy and burrowing deep in my core with his tongue. "Sì, molto dolce," setting me down and licking his lips. Yes, very sweet.

I gathered my breath and told them all to come in. "I'll show you to your rooms," I said.

"I'll leave every night at eleven and come back the following morning at seven," Matteo said. "My wife would be suspicious if I was away at night. "

"Will your wife be suspicious of you being gone every night too?" I asked Marco.

"No, she knows I don't get along with her mother and she trusts me to be out a couple nights."

"Misplaced trust, I see."

She won't trust you for long with that attitude, I thought. You're proving how untrustworthy you are, fucking someone other than your wife. I felt sorry for her; six months pregnant and a husband stepping out on her because she was big and having difficulty with sex. Men! We all went inside the house and put away the other groceries, then I showed Luca and Marco their rooms. Giovanni tagged along so he could put away some of his things.

"I'm going down to start the chicken cacciatora," I said. "I want each of you to write on a piece of paper what fantasy you want me to fulfill for you this weekend. I've left paper and pencil beside your bed."

"You're really going to do that?" Luca asked. "I thought you were joking."

"I told my husband when he offered me to settle his bet that I would fulfill any fantasy you had, no matter how outrageous. You wouldn't want me lying to my husband, would you?"

"Hell no," Matteo said. "Lying to your spouse is bad for marital harmony and good relationships."

As if fucking other people was any better. Three of us met that criteria.

Going downstairs, I started the chicken, putting on an apron. Giovanni came down a short time later. He stood behind me, grabbing a handful of boob with his left hand, kissing my neck and rubbing his right hand against my bare bottom.

"Do you want me to finish supper?" I asked.

"Of course."

"I won't get done if you keep playing with me like that."

"You're supposed to be naked," he said, rubbing his crotch against me.

"I'm naked in the back and if my tits or pussy got burned by some hot oil and your weekend got ruined as a result, you'd be a lot sorrier than you are with my wearing an apron while cooking."

He chuckled, looking around the kitchen. "You've got a video surveillance system, don't you?"

"You noticed it? It's not easy to see."

"A place this expensive has got to have security. Video seemed likely. Don't really see the cameras. They're well hidden. Do you think your husband is watching us right now?"

"I'd consider it very likely. I'm more concerned about the security company; how many employees might be watching. I hope Pietro thought to turn off the feed to them or everyone will know I'm fucking you four."

"Could you turn it off yourself?"

"I could, but I'm still mad at Pietro and if he doesn't give a fig whether the whole world knows about my fucking other men outside our marriage, I'll be damned if I care either. I'm just wondering how many there could be watching right now."

"If they're looking at you, all of them, even the women."

"You flatterer."

"Don't tell the others they're being watched," Giovanni said, "unless they figure it out themselves."

"I suppose," I replied. "Not sure it would make a difference to them although they might play to the camera instead of acting normal."

"I think we should give them something to look at, don't you?"

With that he put the hand from my ass, on my pussy, rubbing up and down my slit. I gasped, shocked, yet strangely aroused by possibly having an audience. Whoever was watching couldn't see what his hands were doing under the apron, but it wouldn't take a genius to figure it out. I began grinding my cunt against his hand, seeking a release. I was moaning, feeling completely wanton. It didn't take long and I felt myself flood his fingers with my cum, whimpering. I'm afraid some of the chicken got a little overcooked as I neglected stirring while leaning back against his hard body.

"Bravissimo," Matteo said. "I got some wonderful footage there. My cock is so hard my pants are tight."

"You're taking pictures?" I said, still panting and realizing my orgasm had been filmed.

"Pictures and movies. Something to remember this weekend by. I'll be sure to send Pietro some so he knows what we did this weekend."

I was about to tell him my husband was probably watching when Giovanni put a finger over my lips.

"You know, Matteo. You might want to be careful taking pictures with you, Marco, Luca and me in them. You're supposed to be at my house. If any of those pictures get out, it will be obvious to your wife where you've been. If the only person in the photos is Maria, then for all anyone knows, Pietro took the pictures and he's passing some around to his friends."

Pietro had taken some very revealing photos of me a few times. I hoped he wasn't passing them around. If he was, it might be a year before he had sex with me again, if ever. Though at this point, I wondered if it would make any difference, given the photos Matteo was taking. Still the thought he might have shared photographs of me to others before now, angered me.

"Has Pietro shown you pictures of me previously?" Perhaps it was the tone of my voice, but Matteo suddenly realized I might be the tiniest bit angry and he looked down, unable to look me in the face.

"No, Maria," he said, mumbling at the floor, "he hasn't shown any pictures of you to anyone I know."

"You fucking, lying, piece of shit, Matteo. You have seen pictures of me previously, haven't you?" I shouted, "Haven't you?"

"They weren't bad ones," he admitted; "very nice, very professional. They didn't show that much."

"How much?"

"A breast here, maybe a nipple there, a tiny bit of pubic fur, nothing too bad."

"That fucking pig of a bastard," I screamed. "I will cut his fucking balls off, I swear. He told me those pictures would never be seen by anyone but him. This party just got a whole lot better. Stir the chicken, Giovanni."

I handed him the spoon and stalked out of the room, outraged at this violation of my privacy. It made no difference there might be a hundred people watching me march around my house naked and cumming on Giovanni's hand. That was all Pietro's fault anyway, but to have shown my private pictures to everyone after he promised not to? I shook my fist at a hidden camera and screamed, "I'll fucking kill you."

"Who are you shouting at?" Luca said.

"My fucking pig of a husband," I raged.

"Well, if he has a hotel anywhere in town, he probably heard you."

Luca didn't realize I was screaming at the camera. I knew my husband heard me if he was watching me.

"Have you seen my pictures, too?" I said.

He looked down at the floor sheepishly, saying, "What pictures?"

"Fuck! You saw them too, you lying prick. Men! No wonder you treat my body like I'm your fucking possession." I stalked out of the room, going upstairs to our room. My room now. It would be a cold day in hell before Pietro found his way back to the bed. I found the item I was looking for and marched back downstairs. They were all standing in the kitchen with a look of shock and awe on their faces. I slapped the items down on the counter.

They all looked at it like it was fairy dust.

"What is it?" Matteo finally asked.

"Sex dice," I said.

"Sex dice?" Luca said.

"Sex dice, erotic dice. You roll the dice; one die tells you what action to take, the other to what part of the body you take the action. Roll them."

Matteo rolled the dice and they came up 'Lick' and 'Nipples'.

"Now you, Matteo as the roller of the dice would get to lick my nipples for some predetermined amount of time. Pietro and I would sometimes use these dice as foreplay leading to some enjoyable sex. After supper, and after I've served you wine, you're going to roll those dice against my cunt, and take pictures. Take lot's of pictures and send them to my husband so he knows exactly what I'm going to be doing with you tonight. Every minute."

Matteo was looking the dice over. "What's this question mark here."

"Pietro and I always took it to mean a wild card, you could do any part of the body you wanted, which usually meant genitals, but it could be it's one thing for a man or another thing for a woman. It could be your cock if you're a man, or my cunt, since I'm a woman. I suppose it depends on who you're playing with and how willing you are to play. You could theoretically play with each other as well."

"No fucking way," Luca said, "but I, for one, am looking forward to this game with you, but we need to eat first. I'm starving and need to fuel up if I'm going to be at my peak performance tonight. Is the food done?"

I looked at the cacciatora. "It's done. There's salad in the fridge. Have a seat at the table and I'll bring the food to you shortly."

They all went to the dining room and I brought out the salad first. As I dished some of the salad on each of their plates, as expected, the men took liberties with my body. Squeezing a breast, pinching a nipple, patting my bottom, running a hand up my leg, or even running their fingers through the slit of my sex. My hands were full with the bowl and salad tongs. I'd expected it would happen, so I let them without saying anything or even trying to dodge or evade their hands, letting them fondle me, then moving on to the next one. It was the first time I'd ever been stimulated so while others were watching. Matteo took pictures of me serving each of the men. I also knew Pietro's eye in the sky was probably watching as well.

The same occurred as I served the rest of their food. Every time I went near one of them, their hands would grope me, touching me in the most sexual of ways, stimulating every sensitive and responsive part of me.

Whether it was the skill of their caresses, or the watching eyes of the other three men, or even the possibility my husband was watching as I was caressed so intimately by others, I quickly became aroused by their attentions. I felt my pussy becoming wetter as I served them. They knew it too when they took the opportunity to touch me there. It soon became obvious to all of them. My inner labia became engorged and descended to their touch as it often did when I was this excited. As for me, I was too angry and aroused to eat, so when all the food had been served and they ate their meals, I would go from one to the other and I would be pulled down to a lap and they would kiss my neck, or an ear, or my breasts. Sometimes they would give me a bite of their food. More often they would kiss or touch me. I could feel their cocks stiffen beneath their clothes.

The meal over, Matteo showed us the pictures he had taken. He'd managed to avoid taking pictures of any of the others, but from the fully laden table and the large bowls of food, it was obvious there was more than a single person dining, so Matteo deleted all those pictures to hide the participation of more people than could possibly be only my husband. From the pictures, it was easy to see how aroused I'd been, my breasts flushed, my nipples stiff, moisture glistening on my pubic lips. I would have loved my husband to see them, close ups of his wife being so excited in the presence of others, but I'm sure he already knew. Only instead of high definition close ups of my arousal, he would have the wide angle views of the surveillance cameras.

Giovanni suggested we have wine after the dishes were done and discuss how the rest of the weekend would go. Everyone was agreeable. They actually helped with dishes in order to get to the fun stuff faster. I went down to Pietro's wine cellars and got two of his more expensive bottles of wine, bringing five glasses.

"This time, Matteo, when you shoot your photos," Giovanni said, "make sure she never has more than two glasses in her hands or visible in the picture, or a single bottle of wine. It will look as though she's having wine with her husband instead of serving many people."

Matteo agreed and as I served them, he shot lots of photos of me with the glasses, the bottle, me bending over the table flashing my culo and figa for the camera. When he finished, he showed them to me and I told him to send them to my husband. These were the close-ups I wanted him to have.