"What, are you just going to bend her over and fuck her right over the bar?"
That was my wife Cindy, and I'd been flirting with Sandy, the better half of our best friends, for most of the evening. I'd always thought Sandy was hot, even though she was really different from Cindy, my normal "type." Cindy, whom I'd married right after we'd gotten out of Penn State, was taller, at 5'9", and thin, almost skinny, while Sandy wasn't fat, but voluptuous would be the right word. She had big tits and an even bigger ass, which is what I suppose is "in" now.
"I can't," I defended myself. "She's got these tight jeans on."
"Oh, that's no problem," Sandy laughed, and with almost one motion, she unbuttoned her jeans, and dropped both jeans and her grey cotton Calvin Klein thong. She was already barefoot, as shoes were not allowed to be worn in her house.
My jaw dropped at that, and Cindy and Bryce, Sandy's husband, laughed their asses off. It wasn't the first time I'd seen her butt naked, as we'd spent some time nude in the hot tub, at the Sunny Rest nude resort a couple of towns over, and a couple of times at Gunnison, the nude beach at Sandy Hook.
"Well, OK, she's ready," Cindy said.
"He doesn't have the balls to fuck me," Sandy teased. "All that flirting, but he doesn't have the balls to do it." She was mocking me.
"Oh, he wants to, ever since I let it slip that you and Bryce did butt stuff." Cindy again.
"Is that it, Mitch, you want to fuck me in the ass? Just because Cindy won't try it?"
I was so fucked! Yeah, Cindy told the truth: she'd never let me have her ass, and when she mentioned about a month ago, while we were both kind of drunk and playing around in bed, that Bryce and Sandy did it, not all the time, but occasionally. I'd fantasized about cornholing Sandy ever since then, but my hints, and outright pleas, to Cindy never got me beyond a finger in her butt when I ate her pussy. It was kind of awesome to feel her asshole clenching and unclenching around my finger when she came, but that finger, and once my thumb, was as far as I'd been allowed to go.
At any rate, we were in the basement bar room of Bryce and Sandy's house, near the top of Fisher's Hill in Jim Thorpe, where we liked to get together; our house was a few blocks down Center Street. Bryce and I were both attorneys, though in different offices, downtown. We never came in professional conflict, and did some male attorney bonding at the old Molly Maguires Pub, and soon enough our wives became friends as well. They had the hot tub out back, where Cindy's and my house had a too-visible-by-the-neighbors back yard. We played hearts and spades a lot, enjoyed the hot tub when we could, and split meals together as well. Since we were both DINK - double income, no kids - couples, it was just natural, though Cindy had at least been making noises about getting knocked up.
At any rate, yeah, I did want to fuck Sandy, but I wasn't stupid enough to say so. So Sandy laughed at me again, saying, "See, I told you, he doesn't have the balls to do it."
Bryce and Cindy were laughing even harder now.
"Don't bet on it," I managed to get out.
The laughing died down.
"Oh, really? I bet you won't," Sandy said, and then she bent herself right over the bar, her hands gripping the other side. Bryce and Cindy were watching us.
Well, that was a challenge, and I started to unbuckle my belt. That was when Cindy said, serious as a heart attack, "You go right ahead, but if you do, that means I get to fuck Bryce here, and Sandy says that he's really good! You sure you want to take the chance that I won't like Bryce's dick better than yours?"
That was even more of a challenge! Maybe I was stupid for thinking this way, but I knew that I was pretty good in the sack, and here the girls were, taunting me that Bryce might be better. I finished undoing and dropping my jeans, kicking my right foot out the leg, to give myself a wider, stronger stance.
"He still won't do it," Sandy teased me again, even as I pulled up closer to get glorious ass.
"Moment of truth," Cindy challenged.