Unanticipated

"Stacy paid them?" I puzzled.

"That's right, chump," the guy to my immediate left blurted. "She gave all five of us blowjobs earlier today. I truly envy you, Army. Your wife really knows how to suck cock. I'm thinking about hiring her to teach my wife how to do it as she did," he goaded.

Stacy gave me a wan smile as I asked, "Is that true? Did you give all five of these guys blow jobs before I arrived?" She had the good sense to look down at the floor rather than lie to me.

"Sorry to disappoint you fellows. I have zero interest in competing in any event or winning anything, especially anything to do with her. You can have her. Do whatever you want with her. I'm out of here," I seethed as I attempted to leave.

"I'm afraid we can't let you do that Army," Goliath repeated. "A deal's a deal. I gave your wife my word that you would arm wrestle the winner of tonight's contest for the money and her honor. Then I promised her you'd have no memories of anything said and done tonight."

"The slut has no honor. I no longer care who she fucks, sucks, or for how long. Right now, I want nothing more than to divorce the backstabbing bitch as soon as possible." Stacy began sobbing at my harsh language and sentiments.

"Pay no attention to anything he says, Stacy. Like I told you, he'll have no recollection tomorrow. He'll be your ever-loving hubby once again. You have my word," Goliath reassured.

Stacy smiled weakly at his encouragement in the wake of my stinging threat to divorce her.

"Enough chit-chat. Let's get out there and get things started, shall we?" Goliath insisted.

The group of five forcibly marched me out into the gym. When the contestants saw my wife's virtually nude body, they went wild with applause and cat-calls. I looked around and couldn't see my friend, Hal. "Where is he?" I queried.

"Your friend? He decided not to hang around after all. We didn't want to force him to stay so we let him leave. Sorry," one of the five informed. I knew Hal hadn't left of his own free will. They coerced him to leave. I also knew he wouldn't abandon me. I knew he must be parked somewhere nearby. He was my ride.

Goliath was wearing a light jacket to conceal his overabundant musculature. He didn't want to overtly intimidate any of the contestants and erase their hopes of pulling a rabbit out of a hat. He began to address the crowd.

"Alright, everybody. This is what we've all been waiting for. All forty of us have contributed our thousand-dollar entry fee and signed the rules, disclaimers, and waiver sheet. Stokes Fitness Palace will be held harmless in the event of any injuries related to this contest. This is a double-elimination competition. If you lose once, you still have another chance to compete and win the tournament. The best two out of three wins. If you have two losses you're out. Now our girl, Stacy here wants a fair and square contest. She insisted that her husband, Army, also be given a shot at defending her virtue. He will wait and wrestle the number one contender. When he loses, the winner takes all. Does everyone understand and agree?" All of the men nodded acknowledgment.

"Excellent," he continued. "The winner will receive the title trophy and the forty thousand dollar bounty but each of us has already agreed to split the winnings with our girl, Stacy, here. She'll receive twenty grand regardless of who wins, and the winner gets an all-night love-fest with her. You've all seen her video. Some lucky guy is going to be in for the night of his life!" Everyone was rip-roaring and yelling their enthusiasm for the contest while Stacy wiggled and writhed her body seductively for their benefit.

"We have two very distinguished gentlemen with us here tonight, Mr. Justin Albright and Mr. Kevin Saunders are sanctioned referees for the World Arm Wrestling Federation, and they are going to officiate every contest tonight. They are impartial and their word is final, not to be questioned. We have two arm wrestling tables with hand pegs that will be running simultaneously to speed things along. The hand pegs are there to give you more power and leverage. Two matches at a time will allow each man here a fair chance to win. We have a computer random name generator pair up and set the first twenty matches. All results will be recorded and the computer will then create the second set of pairings and so forth and so on until we get down to the final two. If you've been eliminated from the competition, you are encouraged to stay and root for your buddies during their matches."

The two arm wrestling tables were identical and were designed for standing matches, not seated. They had padded elbow pads where each competitor places their elbow down to wrestle to avoid discomfort and to prevent injury. The touch pads are the raised pads on opposite sides of the table that each respective competitor is trying to push his opponent's hand onto. A projector cast the paired names up on a screen from an overhead projector. The order was easily discernable and clear for all participants involved. The two tables were approximately ten feet (3 meters) apart. Stacy stood between the tables and made a last-minute announcement.

"Hey, fellas. I wish each and every one of you the best of luck tonight. And just to prove I mean business, right before you compete if you need a little extra encouragement, each of you is free to give my boobs a little squeeze for good luck," she giggled.

The guys whooped and hollered some more. The first four contestants took her up on her offer, each feeling up her boobs in turn, then they set themselves to the match. The referees repeated all of the rules for each contest to ensure compliance. When they asked 'Ready?', each man nodded his acknowledgment. When they said, 'GO!', it was on. You never heard such moans and groans as each man gave his all to win over each opponent. Everyone who was not competing at the time was cheering on those who were. It was an enthusiastic melee. I sat and watched my wife in disgust as she freely let other men play with her breasts, breasts that I had mistakenly believed to be mine and mine alone. There was a cauldron boiling deep in my soul over the betrayal and humiliation at her brazen shamelessness.

With two matches taking place simultaneously in under three minutes, the first round was completed in under thirty minutes. The second round which allowed double elimination, took another half hour, so after the first hour, half of the contestants had been eliminated. The remaining twenty were soon matched up by the computer in random pairings. Stacy decided to make it even more interesting for the remaining contestants. She allowed feel-ups of her crotch and boobs alike as encouragement for the remaining contenders. Every single man took advantage of it. It was sickening to watch her being pawed and mauled. She, however, seemed to love the attention and encouraged each man to help himself.

After five more matches took place over the next fifteen minutes, there were ten winners and losers. Another quarter-hour narrowed the field down to only ten final contestants as an hour and a half had expired by this time. Testosterone flooded the room fueled by machismo, prize money, and a highly anticipated night of passion with my wife. The atmosphere was palpable. I sat down disgusted in a chair at one side of the gym away from the action. Stacy kept looking my way and urging me to join the fray but every time she beckoned me, I simply turned my head to the side, ignoring her. The five lugs never left my side. Had I attempted to run for the door, I knew I wouldn't have made it five feet.

The next thirty minutes whittled down the contestants to the semi-final pairing. Of course, all contestants kissed and liberally groped Stacy, helping themselves to all her goods with their hands. Ultimately, it was Goliath versus another heavily muscled man for the semi-final match. Goliath handily won the set, leaving him to be the one I would face, exactly as he had predicted. The referees advised Goliath that he could take fifteen minutes to rest and recover before having to face off with me in the final match. He laughed them off indicating that I was an insignificant gnat to him and he required no recovery time to face me. His victory was a given.

Goliath nodded at the five, who escorted me to the table for the final. The referees stood ready to officiate the final match of the night to declare a clear winner. As I stood reluctantly stood there across the table from this behemoth of a man, it was evident that not a single man in the room gave me any chance whatsoever to come out on top. They were smirking and chuckling in acknowledgment that Stacy was Goliath's prize, and they envied the sensuous pleasures he would come to know about my wife. As I stood before the table, the room finally quietened down and I began to speak.

"Where is the forty grand in prize money? I want to see it," I asked.

"Why do you want to see it little man? You don't have a chance in hell at winning it," Goliath bragged.

"That may be so," I affirmed. "However, everyone here has been using my wife for inspiration before their match. I simply want to see the money for mine. That doesn't violate any rules, does it?" I queried.

"I guess not, little man." He nodded at one of the five who disappeared into the office to retrieve the locked box holding the cash. He opened it so I could see.

"So far, so good. Could one of the referees quickly count it to ensure it's all there?"

Goliath nodded again, "Mr. Albright, would you please do the honors?"

Referee Justin Albright picked up, quickly sorted, and confirmed the total of forty thousand dollars.

"Sir," I requested, "if you don't mind, I'd like it if you hold onto that until the end of the finals so it can be awarded immediately."

Justin looked at Goliath who said, "Go ahead. Your reputation is impeccable. We trust you completely," whereupon Justin held the two-inch thick neat stack of four hundred, one-hundred-dollar bills close to his body for security.

"Satisfied, Army?" Goliath smirked.

"Completely," I verified.

"Good. Enough delay. Let's get this nothing of a match over with so I can start fucking your wife. Come here, sweetheart. Give me another sample of that sweet honeypot that's going to be all mine in just a few minutes," he boasted. Stacy came over to him and gave him the most passionate French kiss I'd ever seen her deliver. Her hands gingerly massaged his crotch in front of the whole room as Goliath pulled her top down and suckled her breasts right in front of me. I had never been so enraged and humiliated in all my life. After he had his fill of Stacy's temptations, she moved toward me to inspire me in the same way. I stopped her dead in her tracks.

In a clear voice, I admonished, "Don't ever touch me again, Stacy! Maybe, tomorrow, I won't remember anything that happened tonight but I hope you never forget what I'm about to say for the rest of your life! Twenty grand for a night of unbridled sex with you might make you an expensive whore but it makes you a whore nonetheless. You're nothing more than a cheating slut who, if I had my way, I'd divorce your ass right here and now. You disgust me! Get your skanky ass behind me so I don't have to look at you. That way, Gerald can see his whore for inspiration, and I don't have to look at you. Just the sight of you makes me want to vomit all over your lover boy here."

Stacy began sobbing loudly at my vehement vitriol. Every man in the building became inflamed with anger at my hurtful invectives toward the sex kitten they'd come to lust after.

As she moved behind me in compliance with my request, Goliath defended his prize for the night. "Just who the hell do you think you are? You can't talk to her like that!" He commanded.

"She used to be my wife but if I have the physical and mental capacity to correct that mistake when I leave this building, she won't be my wife any longer. Then she can fuck all forty of you and have all of your babies for all I care. I used to love her but now I hate her even more. She sure as hell won't be bearing any of MY children!" I raged. The room became strangely silent in bewilderment at my statements but all sentiments were still squarely in Stacy's corner.

"Enough of your big talk, little man. Put your arm up here and I'll put you in your place and shut that mouth of yours," Goliath commanded.

Everyone effusively cheered Goliath's bravado, knowing he would deliver on that promise. Knowing I had no other choice, I put my comparatively small arm up on the table against the mass of muscle Goliath presented me. We locked hands tightly, making sure there would be no slips or tricks. Referee Kevin Saunders revisited the rules one last time before signaling the start. I heard Stacy behind me admonish Goliath not to hurt me. If he had his way, I'm sure he would have broken my arm. However, he knew she would be unhappy with him if any harm came to me, so he told her he'd let me think I had a chance.

I was pushing for all I was worth. Our hands didn't budge. It was as if I was pushing against a piece of steel. He asked a friend to call thirty seconds, which seemed an interminable time. Then he loudly boasted, "I'm going to give you an education in muscle therapy, little man."

He grinned and began pressing my hand inexorably toward the table. My hand and wrist trembled like a leaf in his grip as I resisted the downward arc with all my might. It wasn't enough. As if in slow motion, my wrist hit the padded bar as the referee called the match in Goliath's favor. The room erupted in thunderous applause at his success against the bad-sport mouthy husband.

I stepped away from the table for a few seconds as I did some deep breathing and swung my arms as I shook off the loss.

"Best two out of three," I reminded as I immediately placed my arm back on the table.

Goliath laughed in my face. "You obviously don't know shit about muscles, little man. Quick-performing muscles are anaerobic. All the deep breathing in the world won't save you from certain defeat. By the time I'm through fucking your wife all night, her pussy will be too sore to touch for a week. I promise you she'll earn every penny of that twenty-thousand." The room once again erupted in roaring approval of Goliath's claim. His statements only served to anger me more. Kevin provided instructions again and signaled us to begin.

Goliath had a huge smile on his face. I again was pressing against him for all I was worth. I used the peg and swiveled my hips for maximum leverage against him. After about ten seconds, he began his press down to secure his final victory. My hand shook like a leaf once more, trembling as every ounce of adrenaline fueled my strength. He had forced me about a quarter of the way down when I felt something. It was a strange sensation. It was as if he had reached the end of his tether. My arm stopped shaking and locked solidly onto its mission. I groaned out loud as I gave it my all. I was huffing and puffing like a runner during a marathon. Then it happened, his hand gave quarter as my stamina relentlessly pressed against his limited reserve. An unbelieving crowd grew silent as they watched me press Goliath's hand down toward his side of the table. I could almost feel the gas emptying out of his tank as he became weaker against the endurance my arm provided. When the referee slapped his hand acknowledging the pin, you could have heard a pin drop on the floor. The astonishment was unparalleled.

He jumped back from the table in disbelief. "NO!" He shouted. There's no way in hell he beat me. That was just a fluke. You're going down, boy! I'm going to squash you like a bug. No more playing around. Let's do this!" He ordered.

He tossed his jacket aside and took both hands to rip his t-shirt off his torso. His musculature gleamed in the light as all the facets of his ripped abs and shoulder muscles became the envy of every man in the room. Goliath drew his arms back like the Incredible Hulk and growled out his rage at the embarrassing loss. He slammed his elbow solidly down on the table, calling me out for the final match. One of us was about to suffer his second loss and ultimate defeat. He was bound and determined for it to be me. I ignored his antics. I had seen this kind of bluster many times before. Again, I performed my deep breathing exercises to enrich the oxygen levels in my blood before accepting the big man's challenge. I wanted this next match sooner rather than later before allowing him the opportunity to build his reserve.

Kevin performed his professional duties and called the start. I knew Goliath's anger would compel him to give his first effort his all to prevent a recurrence of my aberrant victory. He roared out in rage, shoving my arm with all of his energy in one go. All I needed to do was keep my arm from going all the way down and wait him out. My wrist was about an inch from being pinned. My hand and wrist again shook like a leaf, trembling against his massive effort. It was all I could do to hold my own against his surge. Then I heard a voice call out from behind me.

"Come on, Goliath! Take him down. Show the boy who the real man is here. Finish him so I can get you between my legs. Finish him! Do it now!" Stacy urged. The crowd went wild at Stacy's boldness and lust-filled encouragement. But Stacy didn't count on what effect her words would have on me. Enraged, my body was infused again with a fresh hit of adrenaline. Coupled with my regularly paced breathing, I gave a deep groan as a fresh burst of energy overcame the impasse we had been at for nearly forty-five seconds. Our hands slowly rose and began moving in the opposite direction. I felt his arm give once more as I solidly locked in my relentless pressure. Our hands went over the top and headed down toward putting the back of his hand in the direction it didn't want to go. He growled and twisted his body more, trying to obtain an ounce more torque from his leverage to no avail. With all the reserve I had to give, I shoved his wrist against the padded mat as Kevin announced my victory. I did it. I'd defeated Goliath two times out of three. It was over at last.

Silence pervaded as Goliath asked in astonishment, "How? How in the hell did you do that? I've never lost to anyone as small as you. I've got to know," he pleaded.

"I'll answer your question if you give me your word on two conditions," I offered.

"Name it," he conceded.

"Number one, I'm handed the winnings before I give my answer, the entire forty grand. Secondly, I want to walk out of here after my explanation under my own steam with no one trying to stop me. Do I have your word?" I stipulated.

Goliath nodded his assent, "Go ahead and hand over the money, Justin." He handed me the cash, and I quickly stuffed the stack of bills in my pants pocket. It required some effort but I managed it. "I want everyone here to know that Mr. Bostic has won this contest fair and square. Whether we like it or not, he is not to be touched. After he provides his explanation, he will be free to leave here unhampered," Goliath asserted. Stacy just stood there in shocked silence.

Reassured, I decided to fill everyone in. "All my life, I've either worked on a farm or in construction. I have dealt with heavy loads day in and day out. I've done this nearly non-stop all of my life. I may not have developed well-defined bulging muscles in my arms as many others here have but what muscles I developed gave me endurance and stamina in addition to strength. When I joined the Marines, I was stationed for a couple of years with the 12th Marine Regiment located at Camp Hansen, Okinawa Japan, and also at Camp Mujuk Marine Corps Installation in South Korea just outside Pohang near the eastern shoreline. We were encouraged not to mix too heavily with the locals due to cultural differences. They recommended sticking close to facilities friendly to the Marines. That being the case, we became very inventive in developing creative ways to pass time with a lot of testosterone pervading the base, much like it is here tonight."