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  • The Game Ch. 01

The Game Ch. 01

It all started as a game. A sexy little romp into jealousy and voyeurism. We, my sexy little, post-teen girlfriend and I, would go out occasionally. A few drinks and an eyeful of passersby, and we would talk and point out our tastes to one another. She pointing out the standouts in the female population and an occasional eye-catcher in the men's, I pointing out my taste in women and clothing and, either agreeing or questioning her taste in men.

After a time we started daring one another to get up and approach the one's we really liked. A long talk, and a few too many drinks and we would even attempt it, the thrill of visual contact and a game of roulette. Still, it was difficult to draw a line and not be nervous under such scrutiny. At least for me, I might have a pleasant 5-minute conversation, even collect a number, but nothing more than that. While she, with a false confidence, would approach other women or even men and talk for what seemed ages, leaving me to myself, yet alone in my approachability, being so wrapped in watching her.

At evening's end, with a shower to wash away any guilt or lingering doubt we would make mad, passionate love and fall asleep exhausted. For a time, this was the routine, though I usually strayed little and simply observed her as she built up steam, getting more self-confident with each interlude and more daring each time. Even kissing them goodnight and once, checking his package in a sly, but obvious move. We argued on the way home, but very little once we made it inside and started to strip down.

I must admit that it thrilled me as much as it upset me. And, when she asked me if we could go again, I agreed knowing that I was lost. In private our sex talk became even more detailed and our dares all the more exciting and exotic, until it came to a head at a local club, where, upon entry, she left my side and did not return until closing, playing single and ignoring me the entire evening. For a while I was sore, confused, and hurt, but with a whisper she convinced me that my worries were silly and that I had nothing to fear from her mingling.

As time progressed, we would makeup stories of infidelity and intrigue to entice one another until we could stand it no more, and then we would rip off each other's clothes and have explosive sex wherever we ended up. The bed, the floor, the couch, the shower, and even in her car on the way home.

Funny how things start, one night we drove to the local college pub and, after a few drinks, she spots an interesting male across the room. I dare her to take him on, see if she can entice him to leave his friends and go for a drive, maybe park at a pre-arranged spot if she felt comfortable. What started as a casual conversation, slowly progressed to an odd kiss and, eventually, she leaning against him with one hand behind her back and his on her stomach.

When she moved to go replenish her drink and evacuate herself, I met her and asked a few subtle questions, then made a pass of his table, his pleasure was more than obvious, his excitement barely restrained by his tight fitting jeans. And, being large in stature, impressive, if not intimidating, in his stiffness. I was quite unsettled, so I sat closer to see better and to catch bits of the conversation, though theirs was mostly whispered from then on.

Standing a good bit taller than me, he made her look tiny in his lap. Her devious smile telling many tales with just a glance and smirk in my direction. Until chance brought me in contact with her late that evening and, feeling foolish, I dared her to take a drive with him and park in our arranged spot. She agreed quickly and was out the door in a flash with him in tow. I waited a little, then followed to make sure nothing got out of hand, literally.

I found them easily enough, parked in a dead-end that was surrounded by trees and lower than the surrounding ridge, giving me a good vantage, from above, through her window.

It was chilly, but not too bad, only fogging the windows slightly as they kissed and fondled one another in the moon's glow.

How excited I was to feel so jealous, to want to stop them, yet eager to see them continue. Soon enough the petting turned to the back seat, where I, with a creeping adjustment to my position, could actually see them more clearly. Sure enough, after a bit of jeans rubbing, his pants are unbuttoned and her slender, soft hand disappeared down the front of his pants. I can see a smile on her lips as their tongues danced madly and they smothered each other in kisses. Then she dipped into his jeans and pulled out his entire package. Needless to say, we were both surprised by the result. His erection was impressive, even at a distance I could see that this was no ordinary man. He was huge, thick and rock hard.

I cannot describe the gut-wrenching feeling I got in the pit of my stomach. How far my testicles receded into my body. It was painful, exciting, bordering on orgasmic. I slowly moved forward to stop them, but I was fascinated, spell-bound. I simply watched, limp and aching as she dropped her head to his lap and began to swallow him, her rhythmic dipping and bobbing telling me as much as his expression of pleasure. Like a starving child she suckled his manhood ravenously, fast and furious in her way. Though it seemed like an eternity for me, in actuality he writhed under her hunger for barely five minutes before exploding in her face, his body arching as she finished him by hand. The unexpected climax still covering her lips and chin as she sought to find something to clean up with in the front seat.

My jealousy reached a fever pitch; I had almost had an orgasm at the sight myself. Her lust spent, a worried look crossed her face and, realizing her position, her eyes darting as she quickly looked around, and she quickly straightened and re-buttoned herself. He followed her into the front seat and, shortly afterward, started the ignition and they pulled away.

I had to sprint back to my truck to keep up. I wanted to make sure she would be returned to the club and not taken elsewhere. But, true to her word, she was waiting in front of the club, looking very vulnerable, when I arrived. Without a word, I pulled up and she slid into the truck next to me. She was quiet on the drive home, even at home, wanting only to take a long, hot shower by herself before relaxing at all. Even then, after an hour, only speaking to me of her love and crying softly in my arms.

It was several hours before she asked if I had been there. I wasn't sure what to tell her, so I said I was, to make her feel secure, but that my view was poor and that I hadn't seen much. This made her visibly relax and we fell asleep together, never breaking our embrace.

Things cooled for a while, although she didn't burn his number, as we had all the rest, nor did I when I found it later. Though I don't know why, I simply placed it where it would be easy to find and left it for her.

I resolved to buy a video camera after that and, when we eventually rebounded and went out again, I did manage to sneak it along. Although we were half-hearted in our next outings and she was reluctant to approach anyone, as was I. But soon enough I got up the courage to ask about that night and she talked about it, though omitting the ending pointedly and becoming silent afterward.

So I decided to set up a night to give her courage again. I had a female friend of hers leave a message for him to be at the club to meet her. When she came home I surprised her with a new outfit, a slinky, sexy, little, green dress. I bathed her and brushed her hair, then dressed her up, watched her apply her make-up, and took her out to eat at our favorite little Mexican cantina. After a nice, romantic dinner we headed for the club, though I had to work hard to keep our destination a secret.

She was very reluctant at first, but warmed to my touch in the parking lot and followed me in. This time was supposed to be for me, though my interest wasn't really there, it did get her to agree to play along.

Upon seeing her muscular friend again she seemed to perk up. After a few shots and a chaser, she left my side and took little time to find his company again. Soon to be laughing with his friends and sitting close by his side. I replay last time in my head again and again, I am insane with jealousy, yet stiff at the thought, so much so, that I have to have the waitress, a splendid blonde with long legs, get my drinks for me.

Then it happens, with a guilty look to me, which I reply to with an affirming nod, she and he get up and walk out. I stay closer behind them than before, watching them kiss playfully as they cross the parking lot to his car. Nervous and jumpy, I wait for them to pull out and follow at a distance. As before, he allows her to direct him to "our" spot and I take my position, hillside, to observe. This time to tape all the action with a zoom lens.

Note: At this point I am driven to masturbate wildly when I relive, in my mind, the events of our last encounter with her friend. Constantly I am plagued with a guilty pleasure as I think about how good it felt to witness her wicked acts, while telling myself that it won't and can't happen again. Yet I think of it and I am swollen and pulsing before I can even get to the end of the daydream. Am I insane to thrill at my own jealousy?

He is slower and more deliberate this time, not allowing her to take over. Their kisses turn passionate and soon his hand is up her skirt and my balls are in my throat. It is a nut-busting excitement I get from the surge of adrenaline, a painful ecstasy in an aching groin and an upset stomach. I am shrunken and tiny in this state, while he is stiff and ready. I picture how she would laugh to compare us.

Lying back to front, in the back seat, I see her new dress go up and can almost hear her quiet moaning as his massive fingers find their way past her g-string and into her depths. Plunging, two at a time, into her and making her rock up and down with pleasure. Their tongues lap and collide in a sweet, almost violent dance of lust.

Even I am erect at such action. Drawn up yet hard and wet at the tip from the show I was witnessing. The love of my life, my princess, being violated before my very eyes and reveling in her sexual freedom, taking what she wants, where she wants.

This time she abandons guilt and turns to straddle him, fervently digging out his fullness and thrusting it inside her upon the instant. She is mad with it, her tense body grasping him close. My recorder zoomed in on his balls as they bounce off of her tight, white ass, just visible under his hands as he cups her and lifts her up, only to thrust into her as her pulls her down.

This too, only lasts for maybe fifteen agonizing minutes, then they both rock with a shuddering orgasm, clasping and clawing as they tense together and relax in a heap. Finally they separate, she holding her legs as if they are sore, him smiling slyly as he tucks himself away and helps her into the front seat.

This time they are slow to depart, kissing and whispering for an hour before I see her head drop and he is kissed goodnight in a most special way. Throated for a moment, his mouth an "O" even I can appreciate, as she presses her head down and her ass rises in turn. With a languid, rolling motion of her head, she takes him in and tastes of his best parts, moving steadily as if to tell me how she loves it there, then she rises and holds him tightly for a while. Finally moving away from him, he puts himself in order again and they leave. While I, spent, sit for a while and think about what I've just seen.

Obediently she is waiting at the club, he is gone, and she gets in with a smile and, with the smell of sex still clinging to her, kisses me deeply. She is now awake, even giving me a show as we drive home, pulling her dress up and fingering herself, loudly, as we move down dark streets.

We run inside the house and she's naked and in bed instantly. I am upon her in a flash and quickly I plunge into her moist depths. She is dilated like never before, stretched by another man's penetration. I am lost in her, lubricated by her intense excitement, and as I orgasm inside her, she is still not sated. I must pleasure her manually with half a hand while she quietly moans in my ear and alternately whispers his name. Eventually she has a powerful O and lies still on the bed, her legs permanently separated by so much entry. Exhausted, I leave her to sleep as I move to the television and re-watch the tape.

When I come to bed, my balls aching, I view her, still spread wide and inviting as she sleeps. Curiously I move in-between her soft and sexy legs and view her dilation up-close.

Her entrance is wide and still wet to the touch. I breathe heavily upon her clitoris and lick, sparingly, around her swollen lips. She awakes to this and pulls me in, her hands wrapped tightly in my hair as she begins to rhythmically grind up and down upon my tongue. She is salty, even sloppy, in her delicious wetness and she is needy, yet I am there to fulfill her, licking and nibbling at her opening until she brought close. Once, twice, then finally pulling away to finish herself in a blinding fury, while I watch closely and stroke myself to her rhythm. She pleasures herself over the edge once again and I am there, climaxing upon her full and pulsing femininity, grasping her legs and pulling her open I deliberately drip my juices inside her.

We shower in a tired, slow dance, then we sleep, spooning closely, for half the next day. We both awake smiling, but mention nothing as we prepare breakfast together.

Weeks pass, nothing is said, and she makes no request for a three-peat. Yet I watch the tape alone fairly often and thrill at the thought of seeing her perform for me, and for herself, again. I cannot comprehend why it makes me so horny; it is a betrayal and could lead to me losing her love. Yet I subject myself to the torture of watching again and again, never reaching my climax until I see her fulfilled and happy, but never failing to climax when I watch.

So a month passes, we still have wonderful sex almost everyday and there is no mention of our outings by either of us. Eventually I find his number in the trash and, while I stash it, I figure that chapter in our lives is closed. Made me feel good to know that she isn't still interested though.

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