COMPETING WITH ELLEN pt. 3

lightlance13 · 2023-12-29T17:15:48+00:00

"Today, it's rum and coconut water or rum punch," the man responded. Ellen went with the rum punch, while I chose a local beer, and soon we had the drinks in front of us. It seemed a bit surreal that he treated us like just another customer, and looking around, it now seemed everyone had lost interest. "Wow! Strong," my wife gasped. "Just what you wanted," I teased, which made her giggle. We were about halfway through the drinks when the bartender turned on a small TV that was on a shelf behind the bar. Fiddling with the remote, he flicked through channels until he stopped on a soccer match that was just getting started. It involved two teams that had no apparent ties to the Caribbean, so I asked about it when he wandered by. "Is one of them your team?" I asked. "No, it's just all that's on," he replied and started to chuckle. "REAL will win easily," my wife stated with an air of confidence. Ellen played soccer throughout her school years and had a scholarship to a lower level college, but decided to move on with her life. Even so, she viewed herself as an expert, which could be annoying at times. "Lady, I must say you are wrong...quite wrong," the black man replied, showing equal confidence. That started a good-natured give and take, and I think the local man was impressed with my wife's knowledge. Still, he held his ground while receiving some shots from her along the way. "Maybe we should make a bet," my wife stated, unwilling to back down or merely let it go. "You are interested in wagering? What wager would you suggest?" the bartender replied, showing interest. "How about a free drink for every goal," she suggested. I had to admit I was enjoying seeing my wife so animated as it seemed to be in keeping with the spirit of our vacation. Plus, I thought if she got liquored up, I might enjoy a repeat performance of our afternoon of sex. "And if I win? I have a bar, but I don't drink," the man laughed. "I don't know, pick something," my wife responded, clearly feeling she was in control. The man became silent as he thought and I watched as he looked at me several times before he spoke, "In my case, for every goal, you will undo a button on your shirt." The stunned look on my wife's face made the man laugh openly, and even I had to admit her reaction was comical. Still, even with everything that had occurred in our backyard, I knew this was way outside her comfort zone, so I expected her to decline, which she did. "They're going to win," she declared again, as the man moved away. "No," he replied with his back to her. "They are," she said, looking at me. "Okay, honey," I said, and even though I didn't mean to, I knew it came across as dismissive. She gave me a withering look and for the next few minutes, I watched her stew. It seemed the bartender's challenge of her view and my words, made her unsettled. Hoping that another drink might calm her, I ordered one from the man when he passed. A few minutes later, he delivered another glass to my wife, but this time it was garnished with fruit and a tiny umbrella. The message to her was clear and it did not sit well. "Okay, you're on," she said, then immediately a worried look hit her face. "Good, I'm looking forward to it," he declared. I quickly turned to look at my wife's blouse, wondering what the risk might be, and saw that it had six buttons, although the top one was already undone. Now, I view soccer to be about exciting as watching grass grow, and with scores often ending in 0-0 ties, the risk seemed quite small. In fact, I thought it might work to my advantage by getting her keyed up. It was only a few minutes later that her team scored a goal, and the bartender dutifully delivered a fresh drink to go with the half-finished one in front of her. This one lacked any of the tourist garnishment and I knew it was meant as a show of respect towards Ellen for taking the bet. She gloated, a bit too much I thought, because just a few minutes after that, the opposing team scored and the black man walked over to watch her undo the button. This brought a bit of her sheer bra into view, and it also drew the attention of the other customers, as well as the waitress. I could see that Ellen had become much more fidgety and the second drink was soon gone. She was now totally focused on the TV as if her attention could somehow will her team along. Just before the break, the other team scored again making it 2-1 and Ellen undid another button which brought the center of her bra into view as well as some of each cup. Her exposure was helped by the snug fit of the blouse that pulled away slightly as each clasp was freed. The bartender took a long, unashamed look and it was then that he introduced himself, explaining that he was indeed Ike. Also, three of the men rose from where they were seated and moved so they could get a look which made my wife blush deeply. Things certainly weren't going as she had planned, and I started to think of ways we could get out of the bet. Likely, it would take some cash, and when I noticed she was well into her third drink I broached the subject. "You want to leave?" I whispered, thinking I was being gallant. "No, it's a bet. Plus, I'm feeling confident things will change," she replied. The second half started slowly, and a good thirty minutes had been played before the opposing team scored again making it 3-1. This time, I noticed Ellen's hand shaking as she reached for the button, and when it was released, the garment ballooned open even more. I knew her nipples would be visible through the thin material of her bra, but so far, they had not come into view. Like before, the bartender took a good look, this time smiling broadly, and all the male patrons, which had grown to nine, came by for a view, with one older man taking a seat at the bar one stool away. I tried to converse with her but her words were stilted, so I nodded to the bartender to bring her a drink as it seemed her team wasn't going to keep her supplied. She immediately sipped on it and was almost finished when, with four minutes left, another goal was scored making it 4-1. Ellen looked at me and I could tell she was extremely nervous, but her hand lowered, found the button and it was released. Instantly, her left nipple sprung into view and I could see that it was erect. When she saw it, her hands moved to adjust the material, but the black man's command stopped her. "No," Ike demanded, and surprisingly after a brief hesitation, she let her hands fall, The men once again came over to look and I could see her neck and chest was blushing a deep red that was noticeable even through the beginnings of her tan. Several even made appreciative comments that only added to the bizarre scene. The man on the stool next to her had his eyes locked on the opening, and Ike, anticipating his move stepped over just in time to slap his hand away when he tried to reach over. "No, Henry, you be still," he instructed the wrinkled man. I realized my cock was completely hard as I witnessed the events. In truth, it wasn't that much more than what she would show at the beach, and in that situation, she would be wearing the small bottoms rather than her shorts. However, this scene was different, as the control of the bartender provided an erotic, taboo element. "Baby?" I whispered, not wanting to be called out for lack of support later. "It's almost over," she replied without looking at me. It ended 4-1 with the opposing team missing a late goal by inches that would have forced the last button to be freed. The announcers were describing it as a rout, and the timing seemed very bizarre indeed. With a last look at Ike and a mutual nod, my wife buttoned up just as he brought her another drink. She only took a few sips before we headed for the door, enduring the big grins on the faces of the locals as we left. Once in the car, I pulled her across the console and kissed her hard. "You okay?" I asked. "You better never call me a prude...ever!" she said and gave out a nervous laugh. I had never called her a prude, although I had alluded to it, and I was quick to reply, "Nope...never." I think I was more on edge driving back than Ellen. Whether it was the drinks she had consumed or the loss of adrenaline, she sunk into the seat, which made me wonder if she would be in the mood for sex when we arrived at the house. "Are you upset with me," she asked as soon as we were in the door. "Upset? No, not at all, sweetie," I replied in a reassuring voice. "Okay, I thought you might get mad...think I went too far," she spoke softly. I took her in my arms and hugged her then whispered into her ear, "I'm not upset at all. I'm proud of you. That was sexy as hell." "Really?" she asked. "Really! I loved it. Now, let's get in bed," I demanded. For the second time that day, I was treated to the flood of juices pouring from my wife's pussy, and just like the walk on the beach, I knew she had been made aroused through her exhibition. This time, I brought my mouth to her opening and lapped eagerly, knowing that I wouldn't last long inside her. It only took seconds for her to begin to respond, and it wasn't long before she was whining loudly with her legs lewdly spread and her hands on my head directing my efforts. Her orgasm was powerful and I had to work to maintain contact with my tongue as her body thrashed. Then, she was pulling on my shoulders and I was quickly inside, prolonging her release, and staring into her excited, yet vulnerable, face. My climax came fast and in a series of strong, deep thrusts my semen jetted into her leaving me completely spent. Sprawled over her body, I took deep breaths as her hand slowly played with my hair. "I love you," she whispered. "Mmmm...I love you more," I replied, and her arms squeezed me tightly. Later that night, I awoke to find her playing with my dick and we connected again, this time with slow, sensual lovemaking. She didn't orgasm but held me close as I did for the second time. As I was drifting off with her in my arms, I knew that there were now enough dots, enough data points, to indicate that my wife could be sexually adventurous under the right circumstances. The question I couldn't answer was how to bring it to the surface so we could discuss it. If I couldn't find a way, then we would likely just occasionally find ourselves in an interesting situation that might turn fruitful. It was a path, but not one that could be relied upon, and after the encounter with Ike, I knew I wanted more. The rest of the vacation was uneventful, save for Ellen removing her top in the privacy of our pool the following day. It didn't take much cajoling to get her to agree which I took as another positive sign, and after several strong drinks, I almost gathered the courage to initiate a discussion about my thoughts and her reactions. However, I just couldn't force myself to take the final step. Waiting at the airport for our connection on the flight back, a sudden thought hit me and I grabbed my phone. After a brief search, I confirmed that the soccer match Ellen had bet on had already been played and Ike was no doubt aware of the outcome. I should have guessed it giving the time difference, but missed it with the liquor flowing. I had a brief giggle as I thought about the situation and whether I would have said anything to my wife. I decided to keep it to myself for the time being as it would only upset a good memory. "I wish you had sunbathed topless more. You could have lost the rest of the white," I teased Ellen as we cuddled on the couch. We had returned from our vacation the week before and quickly settled into our normal routine. That evening, we had met friends for dinner and described the trip, skirting around the racier details. Neither of us was feeling any pain, and I had removed her top and was slowly fondling her breasts. "Mmmm...I should have," she sighed, as she looked at me with an impish grin. "Yeah..." I answered and took a nipple between my lips. It wasn't long before I led her to our bed where I took off the rest of her things and then my own. With her spread across the comforter, I moved my head between her legs and started to slowly lap at her juicy opening. I had barely started when Ellen began to pull on my shoulders indicating that she was ready for more, but I was enjoying her taste and wanted to continue. She often experienced monster orgasms from oral sex, and although I wasn't sure she could be still long enough, I knew if nothing else she would get wildly aroused. "Come on, I'm ready..." she pleaded. "Be patient...think of your guy..." I replied. I wondered if she would realize what I meant, but she answered that question when she swatted me on the head and said, "Which one?" Her response piqued my interest, and suddenly I wanted to be able to communicate, so I moved over her body and pushed inside her dripping slit. "Damn..." I gasped from the incredible feeling. "You like that?" she whispered into my ear. "Yeah..." I moaned, and then feeling excited, I added, "You've been showing yourself." "Yeah..." she replied simply, and since it wasn't the answer I anticipated, I wondered whether she was even aware of my words. "The yardmen...and Ike," I offered, seeking to gauge our connection. "It wasn't that bad," she answered, letting me know she was with me on the conversation. I realized we were now stepping slowly into the realm of my strange desires and I felt a sudden sense of trepidation, wondering when she might react negatively. Seconds went by as I thought through how to proceed and several times I decided to back off, but something kept drawing me back. "They all got you horny," I probed. "No, they didn't...stop it," she replied with some playfulness. "Yeah, especially Ike," I said, now getting specific. The interaction with him had been somewhat personal while the others were essentially detached voyeurs. Plus, it was quite true that the sex after our visit to the local bar had been incredible with Ellen waking me for more in the middle of the night. "Stop..." she said again, but at the same time, I felt her legs close on my waist. It was a key moment, and one that should have taken some thought, but I was so worked up that I only paused for a moment before I pushed even more. "I wanted you to lose," I whispered. A little gasp came from her and I prepared for the worst, but a few seconds later she replied, "Why?" "So, he would see you," I said. "He did see me," she answered, this time without a pause. "Not much...not enough," I responded, as I pushed inside, forcing more groans, and then suddenly more was coming from my mouth, "I wanted him to get your shirt off...and see you...see your breasts." "You're crazy," she answered in a way that made me think she felt I was kidding. However, after just a short pause, she added, "Why?" It was my turn to pause for several seconds before I responded, "It would have been so hot." We continued in silence for several seconds, and then Ellen's body became stiff and she took my head in her hands as our movements stopped. She stared up at me, causing me to feel intensely guilty before she spoke. "What's in your head?" she demanded, and when I didn't immediately answer, she added, "Something is and it's been going on for a while. Back to last summer and Hector and Ruben." "You won't like it," I forced out. "Try me," she challenged. "I...I don't know how to explain it. It's so awkward...I guess I just like...seeing you...seeing the reaction you get..." I stammered. Again, there was some silence before she asked, "But, you want more..." "Maybe..." I croaked. "Tell me," she said in a purposeful voice that lacked anger. "Maybe some more...maybe seeing your breasts...you know..." I replied. "And? Tell me it all," she pushed. "The rest...it's not real...just...some visions that pop into my head," I said, now very nervous. "Tell me about them...what's happening?" she replied. "I guess...you know...the yardmen have your suit off and they're touching you...and you're...uhhh...enjoying it," I answered preparing for her angry response. "And Ike?" she asked. "Uhhh...he's holding your breasts...and...then the others..." I stumbled. "The other men in the bar, too?" she clarified, and when I nodded my head, she asked, "That's it?" "Yes..." I lied. After several seconds, she put one hand on the back of my head and pulled it into the crook of her neck while the other landed on my ass and helped me to start moving. We made love in silence but the passion was now completely gone, and since neither of us was progressing, I wondered how it would conclude. "I knew something was going on...I knew there was more. More so with the yardmen, but even with Ike there was a wild look in your eyes," Ellen stated without warning. "You had a wild look, too," I responded defensively. "Mine was fear! Now, I know yours was excitement!" she replied. Even though I knew she had every right to judge, I still felt rebuked and before I knew it, I was firing back. "As I recall, you were horny as hell after each time," I answered. "No...I was thinking about us and getting into bed. Be careful, you're kind of calling your wife a tramp," she said, this time showing clear irritation. "Mmmmm...definitely not a tramp," I replied while slowing my movements. When we had stopped, I took her head in my hands, kissed her hard, rolled to her side, and then pulled her firm body snuggly against me. "I guess I was right all along. You are a pervert," she giggled with her back to me. My response was to pinch her nipple lightly which made her thrash for a moment, and when she calmed, we both drifted to sleep. The following day, I reflected on everything that had occurred and had to shake my head at the seeming randomness of it all. The situation with the yardmen and Ike were only connected through my wife's over-developed spirit of competition and yet both scenarios resulted in Ellen exhibiting herself under duress. Adding to the weirdness was the discovery of my heretofore unknown interest in exposing her along with her reactions, as in all the events, I knew that she had been made aroused. The pillow talk of the previous night had been quite open and we had fortunately made it through without any apparent damage. Now, I was left to ponder where to go next. There was no question I would eagerly support another opportunity to exhibit her, but how was I to do it? And, since I had shared my inner thoughts, would she be too self-conscious to participate? "I thought you could take me out to dinner later," Ellen said when I came in from running errands. "Casual or fancy?" I asked. "Fancy!" she shot back. Ellen loves to get dressed up and go to nice places, so I was certain she would make the selection if given the chance. It had been almost a month since our candid conversation, and although it was still very much on my mind, I wasn't sure how she had internalized it. So, I knew I was running a risk with the idea now formulating in my head. "Only if you dress sexy for me," I said softly into her ear as I pulled her close. "How sexy?" she replied and tried to look up at me, but I held her firm. "My favorite cocktail dress," I answered. My wife had purchased a lovely mid-thigh black dress that had a v-top that she wore just one time. In public, she had become quite nervous about her exposure, and despite my constant reassurances that she looked fabulous, she couldn't relax. Numerous times since, I had tried to get her to wear it, but was rejected on each attempt. "Not that one. I don't like it. Plus, you need to calm down," she replied, hinting at my recent revelations.