Betting On Molly Pt 02

It is recommended that you read Part One first, if you have not already done so.

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I was taken aback when my colleague, Samuel, bet me one hundred pounds he could get my wife pregnant. I was already regretting the previous bet I had made with him that he wouldn't be able to seduce her, then manipulating events at my employer's dinner dance to load the odds in favour of his success, all to satisfy a secret fantasy of which I should be ashamed. I should have refused this bet, because I had already put my marriage in enough danger, but I am an almost compulsive gambler and simply could not resist. However, I had already satisfied my secret desire to watch Molly get fucked by another man and this time I wasn't going to make it so easy for him.

We agreed a time limit of six months for him to succeed and shook hands on the wager, then I informed him, "You know, Molly doesn't want children, so even if you can seduce her again it's unlikely she will agree to come off birth control so you may as well give me that hundred quid right now." He grinned at me and simply said, "We'll see." Instantly I began to worry about what plans he might have up his sleeve to make him so confident.

Later that week Molly said to me, "You know, Samuel's a nice guy and now he is living alone it would be good to have him over for dinner sometimes. I wondered about next Saturday as we don't have anything else on." This put me in a dilemma, for I had no way of knowing if this was an innocent act of kindness on the part of Molly, or if Samuel had already propositioned her and the two of them had arranged this in collusion. My instinct was to say no, but how would I explain this lack of charity for my best friend to Molly? Reluctantly I agreed and began to worry even more.

Samuel's reaction to the invitation was predictable. "You see, she likes me. I'm sure this idea was hers rather than yours." He was right, of course. Our friendship had cooled rapidly since he had fucked her so enthusiastically right under my nose at the recent firm's dinner dance and I was severely regretting accepting the latest bet, but he was obviously growing in confidence.

Things were understandably a little strained between Samuel and me as we sat down to dinner and Molly could sense this, which obviously added to the tension. However, the atmosphere became more relaxed as the wine flowed, until after a couple of hours we ran out. Molly and Samuel proposed that I go and get some, on the basis that I was less inebriated than either of them as I had been quite restrained in my consumption of the Cabernet Sauvignon. This was a deliberate ploy by me to stay sober and, hopefully, remain in control of the situation, but once again I was being out manoeuvred.

The sensible thing to do was walk to the off license, which would take about half an hour there and back, but I was worried about leaving my wife alone with a man who was committed to getting her pregnant and had a financial incentive to do so, so I foolishly took the car. It was unfortunate that a police officer was outside the off licence to witness me bump another car whilst parking. I failed the inevitable breathalyser and was taken to the police station to spend the night in a cell. I was allowed one phone call and sheepishly told Molly what I had done, whilst almost panicking at the thought of what those two might get up to with me conveniently out of the way.

I was right to worry. Over a glass of my Scotch, Molly became even less inhibited and snuggled up to Samuel on the couch whilst telling him how much she had enjoyed their last liaison. In return he confessed about the bets but assured her he had always really fancied her and it was only because I was his best friend that he hadn't moved on her sooner. Initially Molly was upset at being the subject of a bet, but soon began to see it as almost flattering. They agreed to start an affair, but to keep me in the dark about it. "But what about you not wanting children," Samuel asked Molly. "Quite apart from the bet, I really want some."

"Well, I'm starting to change my mind on that," replied Molly, "after all I'm not getting any younger. I'll be thirty next birthday." With that they began kissing impatiently and soon enough she was in his arms as he carried her to our marital bed for a night of wild passion whilst I huddled uncomfortably in my cell, full of misery.

Later the next week Molly dropped what was to me a bombshell. "I saw the doctor today and he said I must come off the pill for a while as I've been taking it for so long. You'd better get some condoms."

"How convenient," I thought, "I bet Samuel won't have to wear one." I was right, of course, even though my fears were based on suspicion rather than any actual hard evidence. Molly and Samuel began to enjoy their clandestine affair, all the time leaving me little clues that were enough to increase my suspicion, yet with a fully plausible explanation. Molly took to "carelessly" leaving her phone laying around, with numerous text messages to and from Samuel that were all entirely innocent but designed to concern me. Things like, "Really enjoyed the evening you came to dinner, must do it again sometime," to which his reply was, "Thanks for a lovely meal, the 'afters' were fantastic. Let's hope John can be there for the whole evening next time." This, and other messages like it, were innocent enough, but with an intentional ambiguity that was designed to needle me.

Then, one day, she carelessly left a booking confirmation where I was bound to see it for the exact same room at the hotel where I had witnessed her romp with Samuel from the wardrobe on the night of the dinner dance. I pretended I hadn't seen it but it came as no surprise when she said, "I'm afraid I have to stay overnight at a conference for work on Thursday," but it came as a very big surprise when she continued, "Why don't you have Samuel round to watch a match and have a few beers?" It all fell in place the next day, however, when I invited Samuel as Molly had suggested. "Oh, I really would like to do that but I've already booked a few days off work to visit my mother, we could do it another time perhaps." Was this another coincidence, or a ploy to throw me off the scent, or were they winding me up, maybe to provoke me into making a false accusation?

On Thursday afternoon I went to the hotel that I knew Molly had booked and introduced myself at reception. "My wife has booked a room for tonight, could I have the key please?" It was handed to me without question and I made my way up. Inside the room I set to work. I had a tiny video camera and microphone to install to get irrefutable evidence and wanted to get the job done and get out of there as soon as possible. Imagine my horror and surprise when I heard the voices of Molly and Samuel approaching. Instinctively I grabbed the equipment and dived into the wardrobe, pulling the door closed behind me. The same wardrobe in which I spent half the night after the dinner dance watching my best friend fuck my wife.

Moments later they crashed clumsily through the door, neither wanting to let go of the other. She giggled as he lifted her from the floor and spun her around, then uttered a little scream of excitement as he threw her onto the bed, her short skirt riding even higher to reveal her lacy little black panties as she lay there, legs akimbo. Even from the confines of the wardrobe I could see through the slatted door that those panties were already quite wet.

Samuel joined Molly on the bed, where she literally ripped his shirt off, buttons pinging across the room. Next she impatiently undid his trousers and almost became frenzied as the zip stuck halfway down. Samuel laughed as she grabbed his fly with both hands and tried to rip it apart, but the zip was just too strong. "Here, let me help," he said, taking charge and calmly freeing the zip to continue its travels. Molly ruthlessly pulled his boxers down, allowing his massive hard to spring out, conveniently almost to her lips.

She needed no hesitation as she stretched her jaws to accommodate the beast and slid her lips slowly down his shaft, almost gagging when it passed her tonsils. At last it was fully inserted, with his midnight black ball bag resting on her lily white chin. He slowly started to rock up and down, enjoying the friction of her tight little mouth whilst he cradled her head with both hands. Soon he let out a mighty roar and began to twitch uncontrollably as she gagged desperately to avoid chocking on the sudden hot, salty tsunami that engulfed her throat.

Samuel's relief was almost palpable and so was mine in several senses of the word. On the one hand I was relieved that he chose to cum in Molly's mouth, rather than her sweet little cunt. He could do that all night without a chance of getting her pregnant. On a more physical level I was literally relieved; watching these illicit lovers was too much for me and I blew my tiny thimble full about the same time that Samuel delivered his massive load.

My pathetically small white cock shrivelled to almost nothing, as if announcing that it had done its bit for the night and was shutting up shop. Samuel, in contrast, was obviously good to go again, his enormous swelling proudly announcing this as his tongue played havoc with Molly's clit. His expert cunnilingual skills drove her wild and she was soon bucking and writhing in pure delight, screaming, "Make me pregnant, make me pregnant, I want to have your black babies!"

He didn't need a second invitation and moved his heavy artillery into position. Soon he parted her lips and stretched her cunt as she gasped in amazement and unadulterated pleasure. They were rhythmically moving in unison, her pelvis pushing upwards to meet each measured thrust of his down stoke, as if it was carefully choreographed. I was right about the condoms, he was definitely not wearing one!

Molly and Samuel made love twice more before finally settling down, him spooning her as he wrapped her in his strong arms. Just before they fell asleep Molly said, "Next time we do this I think John should be present, to lick your surplus cum from my sticky pussy." He laughed and replied, "Yes, we wouldn't want him to miss 'afters' too many times, would we?"

Did they know I was in the wardrobe? I had tried to remain very still and very quiet, but it was difficult after all these hours. I decided against declaring my presence with a theatrical emergence from this misused piece of furniture and thankfully I didn't have long to wait before they fell asleep. I cringed with embarrassment as the jovial night porter let me out the main door with the observation, "You're late tonight, Sir, I expect you'll need a good explanation when you get home to your wife."

Several weeks later Molly handed me a envelope with a big grin. I opened it and inside was a home pregnancy test showing positive and a note which said I should give £100 to Samuel. "That's the best hundred quid you've spent since we got married," she said, "and for once your gambling has paid off." Within two weeks she had left me and moved in with Samuel. One day, as I wandered disconsolately home to an empty house, I popped into the bookies on impulse. I noticed there was a horse named Betting On Molly, priced at 40/1 in the 3.30 at Haydock. This was surely a sign and I placed £100 on it. It led from the start, only to fall at the final hurdle and I never gambled again.

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