I dated Mark's wife Tiffany before Mark did. But I was married to India now. We had all been friends since high school and the past was the past. In fact, Mark had dated India a few times as well. Our history made us a close knit group so it wasn't weird. Additionally, time and maturity helped us to be great friends even now that Tiffany's last name was Richardson and India's last name was Stevens.
Tiffany was a sweet girl. Still pleasant to look at, even compared to my memories of how cute she was naked back in the day. But she was meek and prudish, and didn't have an uninhibited bone in her body. We only had sex a few times back then but she felt guilty and acted awkward afterwards every time.
Surely, India was much better suited to me. Wild and without fear, we did everything adventurous both in and out of bed. These days, in contrast, it was me who was the inhibited one. I loved her sucking my cock and I loved eating her pussy, but she tried to push me to do stuff with my butt. I could handle doing stuff to hers with the help of some alcohol, but it was too much when the tables were turned - too gay.
So one day the girls went to a shower leaving us alone for the afternoon. They'd just left within the last hour. I was hanging out with Mark, lifting in his garage, when I noticed the home page of a porn site on his computer. It was just sitting there open on his workbench like he had no shame.
"Does Tiffany know about this? Is that why you hide it out in the garage?"
"In a way." He answered. I looked at him sideways. "She's seen what you've seen just now. But she pretends not to see it. She's good to me that way."
I agreed skeptically, then added conspiratorially, "But she's not good to you the same way India was."
He looked instantly hurt. "Sorry Mark. I didn't mean it like that. You know as well as I do that both girls have fine, great qualities." I felt like I needed to point out a flaw with my wife to even things up. "You and I both know India can be ambitious when she wants her own way."
"Ambitious? Or scheming?" I hadn't thought of it as scheming, but now that he'd used the word it fit.
"TouchΓ©." Surely we were even now.
The question in the back of my mind was: "Which combination of qualities was better? Would I prefer a wife as agreeable as Tiffany but it meant I resorted to keeping a laptop in the garage? Or did I prefer a girl like India who was everything a man could want in bed, but she strived against me constantly?"
In short, the two wives were night and day in terms of looks and temperament.
The quickest way I could think to change the subject was to mention the porn. Mark was doing an easy set and didn't need any spotting. It seemed like he never needed any spotting: he was naturally strong, cut, and built. I was the smart one. "Mind if I crank up a video? Just for background noise?" He answered with a wave of his hand.
I saw this thumbnail where a bottle blonde slut was looking back over her shoulders as she gesticulated and gyrated, showing off her fine ass. She was so trampy-hot perched atop a huge bean-bag couch.
Her sexy white thong crept down past her sexy asshole barely covering it. The dark edges of her anal ring peaked out seductively as did her outer pussy lips.
Meanwhile the minx rubbed her hand on her perfect butt cheeks, smiling invitingly. My favorite category of porn would be called 'solo girls' which always involved one actress displaying what she had, maybe masturbating. And this looked like it was exactly that.
The model was the opposite of India. Blonde rather than raven haired. Tan rather than snow white. And curvy rather than slim. I rarely watch porn. I mean, India keeps me thoroughly drained. I thought about poor Mark, I bet his balls were bursting at the seams.
He finished his set and poured a couple beers, looking at the vid I'd picked. "You like these sodomy videos, Randal? Cause I do."
"Oh, I thought it was just a babe video. But all porn is exciting as far as it goes."
"Lesbo porn?"
Our eyes met, "Yea sure."
"Blowjob porn?"
"Absolutely!"
"Chicks with dicks?"
I looked back to the harlot Thumbnail, "Why not?"
"Chicks with dicks sodomizing their partner?"
Not overthinking it I shrugged in casual affirmation.
He smirked at me, "Huh?"
I suddenly realized that I'd implied that I had a hard-on for trannys. I don't. I just think cocks are less objectionable attached to a female body as opposed to a hairy dude's. It felt like he had tricked me so I shot back at him with a sharp barb, "Tiffany would never do it."
"Oh, Tiffany absolutely does it!" He leered at me smugly. I felt like he'd just sucker punched me. To me it meant that his wife was sweetly amenable AND into anal. He was winning. No, more likely he was lying.
I was incredulous, "No she doesn't!" He had this playful yet deceptive look on his face as I reiterated my point. "You're lying. A million dollars says so."
He dismissed me, turning away, "I could prove it. But you don't have a million dollars."
"How could you possibly prove it? Anyway, I won't accept anything less than video proof." I knew that the uncorrupted Tiffany, not only would she never let Mark in her back door, but she wouldn't even let video be taken, not nude video, not ever, not under any circumstances. I was sure of it. I would bet the farm on it.
Mark picked up a couple dumbbells and proceeded to pump up his bulging biceps. I felt a pang of jealousy. I couldn't let him drop it: get away with making such an outlandish claim. "You prove it and, and, I'll, I'll clean your whole garage, mow your grass for a month, anything you want."
Mark put down his weights, "Oh, I can prove it." He had a shit eating grin on his arrogant face. Still, I just knew he was jerking my chain. Seemingly as an after thought he added, "And I accept your terms, you have to do whatever I want."
I shot back, "You prove that Tiffany does it and I'll do whatever you want."
He smiled slyly, "just so we're clear - if I prove that TIFFANY does it, and by "it" I mean Sodomy - then you do whatever I want. Even if it's ALL my chores or whatever." It felt incomprehensibly wrong that he'd used the word sodomy in the same sentence as the word Tiffany.
It was my turn to challenge him, "So to be perfectly clear, "You show me a bona fide video. One where the girl being obviously rear ended is Tiffany. No doubts: you can see her face. It's really Tiffany and there's like indisputable anal penetration. Then you win." I figured he would back out now. Slap me on the back and say he was joking.
Pained, he understood how I doubted Tiffany's sexual liberty and got serious, "You'll see her face as clear as you've seen in the last hour. You'll see a title on the video declaring her name. You'll see her naked ass and you'll see explicit rectal penetration...with a cock," His gaze seemed to drift past the computer, right to the old sheet-covered couch in his garage, "right there on the sofa."
He changed his tenor, pointing to his laptop, "Oh, and as penance you'll dress up like the girl in that video when you cut the grass." The bottle blonde slut was still shaking her ass on the giant bean bag. He enunciated as he spit out his words, "Can I be any more clear?"
I pictured him retrieving an old CD with a handwritten label on the side declaring something like 'Tiffany Vacation 2013'. Or maybe a vid right there on his laptop showing Tiffany's face and naked ass. It had been years since I'd seen her naked and my memories had faded more than the upholstery on his old couch. It would be worth the risk of the humiliation to see her naked again. It would be worth a month of doing his chores to see Mark's wife, not just nude, but engaged in sex - anal sex no less. All these years and I still kept a flame burning for my old love.
Still I sensed a trick here so I re-clarified the important terms, "OK, one: the video is gonna be clearly labeled. Two: It'll be Tiffany. Three: it'll be anal sex."
He jeered at me, holding up his fingers, "One, two, and three, then you do whatever I want for the rest of the afternoon. I just have to prove exactly what we just specified. No going back. No squirming out of it."
He made me shake on it. Then he just turned tail and walked into the house. Man, even his butt was muscular. I wasn't checking him out. That'd be gay. Just noticing that he was defined everywhere, unlike my body that stayed slim no matter how much I worked out.
When he got back he was holding a pair of Tiffany's granny panties. With an arrogant intensity he grabbed a pair of scissors from his work bench and proceeded to fashion them into a thong, "You might as well get ready to put these on."
I matched his arrogance, "She doesn't even own a pair of thong panties and you expect me to believe that Tiffany lets herself be...sodomized?" I almost couldn't choke out that last word.
He was red-faced and tossed the homemade thong onto the keyboard, "You're looking at Tiffany's thong right now, buddy. And you're gonna eat your smug-ass words."
I pushed it too far, boasting greatly, "India's got a whole dresser full of lewd undergarments... and other stuff." I didn't feel as confident in my wife's superiority as I let him think. Her lingerie collection was quite sexy. But the other stuff scared me.
Mark reached over to the keyboard, "My plan WAS to just gloat. But now you're gonna pay." He put the video on full screen, "What's the name of this video we're watching right now?"
I peered at the upper corner of the screen reading slowly, "Tiffany Rayne Sodomized on the Sofa."
Mark rejoiced in his victory, "What was that? The name of the actress?"
I hung my head, "Tiffany." I saw what he was doing and squirmed. "No you don't. You're not pulling a technicality on me."
That's exactly what I'm doing. I can't help it if you're too dense to have seen it coming. One, it's clearly labeled. Two, it's Tiffany, and three, she's doing anal as we speak. I thought about just walking out. But that would be unmanly to run away.