Eddie Sloan and I have been friends as long as either of us can remember. We've always been very competitive, including a long-running argument about who has the bigger cock, more sexual stamina, and the greater self-control in the sack.
In college, we'd brag about how hard, thick, long, and enduring our respective erections had been on dates. At various times, we'd measure our dicks and there wasn't much to choose between us: Eddie is a little longer; I'm a little thicker. So, the arguments settled into debates about who could stay erect longer with a woman, without shooting his load.
Even after we both married beautiful, sexy women, we continued comparing notes about our love-making sessions. It was always in fun, but there was an unmistakable edge to our boasting.
We're in our late-twenties now, happily married, and still best friends. Our wives are close, too, and we do a lot of things together as couples. We'd never done any spouse swapping, but there always was a lot of good-natured flirting.
My wife, Michelle, is a statuesque Irish lass with flaming red hair. She is an animal in bed and her sex drive is every bit as strong as mine.
Eddie is married to Kimberly, a dead-ringer for Meg Ryan. She's smaller than Michelle, but with a perfectly proportioned figure and nipples that seem always hard, a fact I can't help but notice, since she often is obviously braless.
Last winter, the four of us shared a condo at a beach resort in Acapulco. We had a blast, and tried just about everything, from snorkeling to parasailing. We spent long hours at the pool and on the beach, and long evenings in restaurants and nightclubs. In such a romantic, exotic setting, we naturally were horny much of the time; the sexual innuendoes and wisecracks abounded. Inevitably, Eddie and I resumed our debates.
One night, after more that a few bottles of wine among us, our wives called our bluff.
"You guys have been talking about this shit forever," Michelle said. "Why don't you settle it, once and for all."
"Yeah," chimed in Kimberly. "Shit or get off the pot. We're sick of listening to you guys going on about how macho you are. Prove it!"
Eddie and I looked at each other and grinned. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
"Let's have a contest," Michelle said, grinning broadly. "We'll make up some rules and Kimberly and I will be the judges. We'll do it before we leave here on Saturday. What do you say?"
"You're on!" I exclaimed, emboldened by the wine. "Right, Eddie?"
"Sure," Eddie agreed. "Maybe I can finally shut you up."
We talked into the night about how to conduct the contest, and came up with these rules:
1. The guys had to do everything the girls told us to, and couldn't do anything they didn't tell us.
2. We both would be told to do the same things at the same time, for fairness sake.
3. The winner would be the guy who lasted longest before cumming.
4. We had to agree not to cum, either through sex with our wife or masturbation, between now and the contest.
5. The contest would be held the day after tomorrow, in the morning.
6. This was the best part: Kimberly would try to make me cum, and Michelle would try to make Eddie cum. That way, there would be no chance of a wife trying to help her husband win by delaying his ejaculation.
Everything else was up to Michelle and Kimberly, who agreed to talk the next day, without Eddie and me present, to plan what they were going to do.
I was semi-hard just thinking about what Kimberly might do to me. I wondered if she would get naked, and was afraid the sight of her erect nipples, alone, might make me cum.
Periodically throughout the next day, Michelle and Kimberly would go off by themselves, giggling and writing on a pad of paper. We found out later they spent much of the time talking about Eddie's and my sex organs, sex habits, likes and dislikes in bed, etc. They also agreed on what they would do to us during what by now had become known as The Contest, in capital letters.
Eddie and I talked, too, comparing notes about our respective wives' anatomy, and what we might expect the next day. It was pretty exciting stuff and we both were looking forward to it with great anticipation and a little apprehension. After all, this would mark the end of our long-running debate and one of us would "lose."
At dinner that night, Michelle and Kimberly told us The Contest would begin after breakfast in Michelle and my bedroom. I guess I hadn't realized the four of us would be in one room, but it made sense, because then there could be no disagreement about who came first. The realization that not only would I be in some kind of sexual relations with Kimberly, but that I also would be watching my wife with my best friend, excited me even further. I couldn't wait for morning!
It wasn't easy that night in bed. My head was filled with images of me and Kimberly, Eddie and Michelle. I was extremely horny, which probably wasn't good, since I didn't want to start The Contest already aroused.
"I'm as hard as a rock just thinking about this thing," I said to Michelle. "It's really erotic."
"I know," she said. "I'm soaking wet." It was all I could do not to reach between her legs, but I knew if I did, we'd be fucking within seconds. Instead, I groaned, rolled away from her, and said: "I wish you hadn't told me that!"
"I'm sorry," she said, "but it's exciting for Kimberly and me, too. We really don't care who wins your silly contest; we just want to have some fun."
"You mean you won't be rooting for me?" I asked.
"I didn't say that," Michelle replied, "but it's just not as important to Kimberly and me as it seems to be to you and Eddie."
"Just make sure you do your best to make him cum first," I said.
"Oh, don't worry," Michelle said. "Kimberly and I agreed that we'd both go all-out. You guys aren't going to know what hit you!"
While I was excited to imagine what Kimberly might do to me, I felt a pang of – I guess it would be jealousy – about Michelle going "all-out" on Eddie. With all those thoughts in my head, it took me awhile to fall asleep.
After breakfast the next morning, the four of us gathered in Michelle's and my bedroom.
"OK," Michelle said. "Let's get started. Remember, you both have to do exactly what we tell you and nothing else. The guy who cums first loses. One more thing: Kimberly and I will do the talking. You guys are not to speak. Now, both of you get naked."
Eddie and I stripped, and I couldn't help notice Michelle looking at Eddie's cock, which already was semi-hard. Mine wasn't, which I took as a good sign.