Wager

I'm fishing in the fridge for the last of the bananas when I hear you from the living room.

"Honey! Do you think you'd prefer sucking a six inch cock or a nine inch one?"

That certainly gets my attention. "What?" I say brilliantly, wandering over into the living room where you're perched on the couch, laptop on your thighs.

You look up and giggle. "Gay personals. And your last Quake game was abysmal."

"Say what?"

"You lost bad. And I always did say that everyone should suck a cock at least once."

"You're joking..."

You smile. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

I look over your flannel pjs and bunny slippers. "Well, kinda...."

You pat the couch next to you. "Sit. I'm not being mean, you get to pick the cock."

I grumble and sit down, admittedly wondering what you're looking at on the screen.

"Here, take this one? He to your tastes? Pun intended." You turn the laptop, showing a naked man, holding his erect cock. "See, this is Bill, who promises to give you a throat full of man." You read the ad.

"Good lord...even if, that thing's huge..."

"Even if?" There's a bit of edge to your voice.

"Um...you're not serious..."

"Look-- your body is mine, right? Right?" You look serious, I'll admit.

"Well..yes...."

"So if I want that mouth of yours to suck on a cock, it will, right? Or were you bullshitting me?"

I blanch. "No...no bullshit..."

"And I'm even being nice in letting you pick. Aren't I?"

"Yes..."

You seem to perk up. "Good. So if not Bill the Throat Filler...how about this one?"

I look. "Too hairy."

You laugh. "What's wrong with a man with hair?"

I'm sure I'm flushed lobster red. "It's just not to my tastes."

You grin and retype some things in. "Okay, less hair...can't do it anyway but getting shaved, I think. That okay, Mr. Picky?"

"It's fine."

You flick through a few ads and I ask what you're doing. "Well, I don't want to see you with any of those guys."

"Oh."

"Okay, here's one. I don't know if you like tan, though."

You turn the monitor. He's tan alright, probably nudist considering the picture.

You keep talking. "Now I know he's not hard there, but I bet it'd be the perfect size."

I gulp. "Okay."

"Okay? Just okay? I don't want to hear just okay."

You move one hand to the front of my pants, cupping my cock and starting to knead it. "I wanna hear you say more."

I'm starting to harden, and I'm sure it's just your hand.

"Like what?"

"Figure out what. Say you want it."

You unfasten my pants, slide your hand inside, keep stroking.

"I want it."

"Say it like you mean it..." your hand tightens, then stops, barely pressing and relaxing. "It'll be good for you if you say it like you mean it."

I inhale deeply. "Okay...I want to suck that cock...I want to feel it in my mouth, and I want to tongue it and suck on it until it comes."

"And?"

"And I want you to watch and I want to see you watching me obey you. I want to turn you on."

Your hand is moving again, my cock trembling and throbbing softly.

"How'd you suck it?"

"Hard...as deep into my mouth as I could. Into my throat if I can."

You smile, fingers working around the head of my cock. "You'd do that for me?"

The massage of your hand is almost unbearable, wonderful.

"Yes."

"You'd suck that cock if I wanted?"

"Yes..." I can feel my orgasm nearing, your hand moving so teasingly.

"Good." You stop, taking your hand away, turning off the laptop and laying it aside.

"Huh?"

"Just wanted to see if you would. That mouth is all mine." You smile and look at me, and I know I'm red as a beet. "But I'm not mean..." Your hand lifts my cock and your lips descend...