It's an image that will vividly remain in my mind until the day I die.
That of my gorgeous wife Amber, then 28, down on all fours on our white bedroom rug.
Her gorgeous long auburn hair is hanging down around her shoulders, almost to the floor. She's naked except for the sexy black lace bra and thong she'd bought just that afternoon.
I'm seated on the bed behind her, looking at the most beautiful ass I've ever seen in my life. It's the work of god. I can't really see her boobs from my angle, but I know they are magnificent.
Amber is eagerly waiting to be taken doggie style, and my cock is as hard as it's ever been.
There's just one problem. She's not waiting for me, her husband, to fuck her. But rather Harley, our long time friend.
I'm not happy about it at all, but it's my own damn fault.
The evening before Amber and I were having drinks with Harley in a noisy waterfront bar. There were televisions on with a basketball game between Harley's favorite team and my favorite team. Amber didn't have a favorite team, but she likes sports and enjoyed watching the game with us.
By halftime my team, the Bucks, were up by 20 points. They couldn't do anything wrong. The Lakers, Harley's team, couldn't do anything right. I was giving Harley a lot of shit about it.
"There's no way your bungling Lakers are going to win tonight," I said. "No fucking way."
"Maybe you'd like to bet on it," he replied good-naturedly.
This is where the problem started. While I've subsequently made quite a bit of money, at the time I was a struggling lawyer just out of law school with massive loans to repay.
Harley, on the other hand, came from a wealthy family and was making an excellent salary in his executive position at the family's liquor distribution company.
"I'd bet you in a New York second, turkey," I replied jovially, "but at this stage in life I don't have anything of value. I sure wish I did, though, because I'd bet it."
"Excuse me, but did I hear you say you don't have anything of value?" my wife Amber chimed in coquettishly, feigning indignance. "I'm not worth anything?"
Amber has always been a fun-loving type who can give and take a joke, which is why I had married her four years before. And why I was still deeply in love with her.
"You're worth everything to me," I replied, giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
"Well, Albert," Harley laughed, "if you're so sure your sucky Bucks are going to win, lovely Amber, your only real asset, could be your stake in the bet."
The three of us laughed.
"He's got a point, Albert," Amber said a few seconds later. "If you know you can't lose, why wouldn't you make the bet?"
Amber loved to be a provocative, so she wiggled around a bit and batted her eyes for the benefit of both Harley and I. She's so damn cute! And while always classy, in the right situation she enjoys being flirtatious. Because I know our marriage is rock solid, I let her have her fun.
"I'll even give you odds," said Harley, continuing with the joke that I thought had run its course. "You get $1,000 dollars if your team wins, but I get to sleep with Amber if your team loses."
We all laughed at how ridiculous the suggestion was. At least I did.
"Think of the shoes I could buy," joked Amber. "Oh, and look, Albert, the Bucks are now up by 24."
It would be an absurd bet on Harley's part, but he could make it because he already had a lot of money. It wouldn't mean anything for him to lose $1,000.
What complicated the situation was a certain aspect of the healthy sex life Amber and I enjoyed. We'd always been adventurous in bed, including fantasy play.
One time, for example, we dared each other to say who we'd like to fuck if we weren't married to each other. We both knew it would create a tinge of jealousy, stoking our sexual fires.
Both our picks were prefaced with, "I would never, ever break our marriage vows". But still, the choices we made would be revealing.
I went first and named Charlotte. I should have known that would be a bit of a dagger to Amber's heart. That's because Charlotte, a stunning woman, is Amber's best friend, one I had dated for several years in high school.
"You cheeky bastard, you!" Amber replied, struggling to keep her cool. "You'd like some more of her blonde stuff, is that it? As I recall, she did anal for you, something I won't."
"Amber, honey," I reassured her, "I told you I would never, ever cheat on you. You are the only woman I ever desire. We're just kidding around. But what about you?"
"I'd do Harley in a flash," Amber said without hesitation. "He's good-looking, he's buff, he's rich, and he's funny. Yeah, Harley would be my pick for a good fucking. But like you, I'd never break my vows."
I was shocked by how quickly Amber had answered, and how she had a ready list of reasons why she'd do Harley. Harley, who at that time had a lot more money than me, something I was sensitive about.
Amber and I fucked like crazy after sharing our secrets. I was thinking of Charlotte while fucking Amber, and no doubt Amber was thinking of Harley.
We hadn't had such hot sex like that in a long time. I don't know how many times Amber came, but I came twice, which I hadn't done in years.
That year Amber gave me a most unusual and sexy birthday present. When we got ready to go out for my celebration dinner, Amber put on a blonde wig styled like Charlotte wears her hair, and had even borrowed one of Charlotte's sexiest dresses.
Oh lord did that get me hot! Amber didn't look exactly like Charlotte because she's fair skinned and Amber has olive skin, but she looked enough like her to have me imagining that I was going out on a date with another woman. My ex!
My beloved Amber had surprising me by really ratcheting up my desire. No wonder I loved her so much.
But I got an even bigger surprise later when Amber let out a wail while I was fucking her.
"Harder Harley, you big fucking rich hunk," she shouted, "ram your big cock in my pussy!"
I was stunned. I played it cool, but I wasn't ready for Amber to enjoy our little game that much. So after playing that game a couple of times we realized it was dangerous and agreed to stop.
Still, I couldn't forget Amber's calling out Harley's name while I was fucking her. Even though it was fair play, a husband doesn't forget something like that.
That's the background. Now it was the end of the third quarter in the game we were watching at the waterfront bar, and Harley's Lakers had only cut my Buck's lead to 18 points. What NBA team loses after being that far ahead that late in a game?
"Your bet would be looking really good now," said Amber, giving me a big kiss. "Maybe you should have been more confident." Her criticism was her edgy way of flirting with me.
But was she serious? And was she making a little dig at my masculinity?
Harley had had another couple of drinks and was getting cocky.
"Tell you what, Albert buddy, I'll put up $2,000 that my Lakers will still come back and win. Amber, think of all the shoes and dresses you could buy when I lose."
Amber got a dreamy look on her face.
But I had a tough time reading her. I had assumed that she would have been insulted the moment there was any sign the proposed bet was anything but a silly joke. Yet it seemed as though she was calculating whether it was worth the very small risk for the almost sure possibility that she could buy some new dresses and shoes. Especially shoes. God does she love shoes.
"Well, how confident are you, big boy?" Amber said turning to me and giving me a sexy look.
She was definitely challenging my masculinity.
"Well dammit, it's a bet!" I said a little angrily in a little too loud a voice.
Harley looked at Amber for her reaction.
"It's kind of exciting having my body put up as my husband's stake in a bet," cooed Amber. "Because if Albert is absolutely positive that he's going to win, I don't see any harm in having a little fun. Besides, I already know just what shoes I'm going to buy. I'll even put on a mini-skirt and model them for you guys some evening."
