Roberta & Patric's Bet

This story is presented in five parts. The story is finished and all chapters have been submitted, so hopefully you should be able to get into the story and enjoy a chapter every day. As always, your comments and observations are welcome.

I woke in the night, Patrick and I now parted, and I was filled with a desire for release. My hand wandered to my pussy and found it seemingly nothing but liquid.

I woke Patrick from a deep sleep. It was some moments before he was fully awake and cognizant of where he was, what the situation was.

I was too hot and desirous of orgasm to be anything but curt. "Jerk off for me," I said, my voice, although commanding, was what the romance novels would call 'husky'. "Now." He was now fully aware, remembering our little games of cribbage, his lost bet, and his position as the one who took the orders for tonight.

I stripped down the covers, and turned on the reading lamp on my side of the bed making an island of light in the dark ocean of our bedroom, and nothing beyond its shores was of any consequence. As Patrick came to his knees I saw his cock ring was long since put away, but his dick was already hard, had been rock hard while he slept.

I laid back on the bed, spread my legs, and directed him to a position knelling between my widely parted knees. He knelt there and began pumping his dick, this time our eyes were locked together. We devoured and savored the connection that gaze created between us.

There was no long session of stroking, no build up. Within just moments of him touching his dick I heard that familiar pattern of breath that signaled Patrick's imminent orgasm. I directed him to lean over me, to direct his cum onto my pussy. He did this and seconds later he emptied again as I held my labia open.

When his orgasm had run its course I told him to switch positions. He lay back on the bed where I had been, his head on my pillow. I straddled his chest, and then walked on my knees north to his neck and then his face. I settled myself onto his face, his tongue enthusiastically reaching for me.

Patrick licked at my labia, first up the seam from back to front, and then burrowing in to tease at my inner lips. He was drinking a combination of my juices and his cum, and lapping hungrily. I felt his tongue bury itself into my vagina, working its way in. Then I could stand no more. I had been trying to hold myself above Patrick's face, but now settled onto it.

As I began to feel my excitement build, little sights and sensations from our earlier scenes played in my mind, and not necessarily the ones I would have expected, but each of them taking my arousal up a step.

I saw my face in closeup, my chin resting on my fingers, an amused smile on my lips, my eyes twinkling as they took in a new and amusing sight; and in another part of my consciousness I saw a welcome friend in the distance, just emerging from the trees.

I heard my voice issue a single word command, 'knees'; and I saw my friend walking my way, still a bit indistinct in the mist.

I saw Patrick's knees in closeup as they settled into the carpet; and now I could see my friend's face, but still just a blank oval, her head still covered by her hood.

I saw again the muscles in Patrick's buttocks clenching and releasing in his desperate efforts to honor his bet and please his mistress, do her bidding; and my friend was now close enough that I could see her nearing face as she threw back her hood and exposed herself.

I saw again Patrick's eyes as they sought, embarrassed, to avoid mine; and I was surprised to find my friend already at the gate.

I saw a closeup of my legs from the knees to the floor, crossed, my right foot bouncing slightly; and my friend was inside the gate - sometimes she came to the gate but then continued down the road, passing me by, leaving me longing for her - latching it behind her, and I knew she would visit me.

I saw my foot after I had taken it from Patrick's face, the top arching, my toes wiggling, and I heard the little laugh that had escaped my lips at that moment; and my good friend climbed the few stairs to my porch.

I saw again my big toe in Patrick's mouth, the other four spread on his cheek beneath his eye, his head bobbing; and my friend was now at my door.

Then I recalled the feeling of warmth on my foot as Patrick orgasmed, leaving his cum in that unaccustomed place; and my friend treated me to a big smile.

Then the recollection of another sensation: Patrick's tongue licking my foot, lapping his cum; and my friend entered, deciding to stay for a while, and I opened the door wide to let her in.

Waves passed through me. They were intensified as I recalled again the feel of Patrick's tongue licking across the tops of my toes.

My orgasm built to new heights as I remembered the feel of Patrick's tongue licking between my toes, and it found its apex as I reveled in the remembered sensation of each of my toes in Patrick's mouth. The waves passed through me over and over and I leaned onto the bookcase headboard unable to remain upright any other way, my legs rubbery.

After my friend had gone on her way, leaving me the warm memory of her visit, I kept my seat, bringing myself higher and resting momentarily, breathing hard. But I knew I was not done yet. I brought my clit near Patrick's tongue. He gladly tongued it, then sucked it in while flicking his tongue over it.

Again I leaned forward onto the headboard for support as my hips began to move on their own, grinding my clit into Patrick's mouth and tongue.

The memory of the images and sensations of our scenario from earlier did not accompany me on my way to orgasm this time.

No, this time I simply felt the loving, skilled, and determined ministrations of my darling husband. Then the orgasm was on me again, this one making my eyes tear and my breath ragged.

It was many moments until I had the strength and awareness to leave Patrick's face. The whole time he put little kisses and licks all around my vulva.

We spooned again, not bothering for the customary trip to the bathroom, and fell deeply asleep.

It was going on eleven before I woke, brought out of slumber by Patrick's stirrings.

We were still in the same position in which we had fallen into our deep slumbers. Patrick stirred more and turned over to face me. Our eyes were locked together, as were our lips, our tongues hungry for each other.

We enjoyed each other for many minutes until Patrick moved back a bit and looked at me, or maybe the better way to put it is that he regarded me.

"Bet paid?" He asked.

I glanced over at the clock. 11:13.

"You still have forty-seven minutes to go, Loser Boy," I said.

"So can I make you a nice breakfast in bed?" He asked.

"No," I said. "You can get yourself hard. I want all four that you promised me."

His dick was already mostly hard. He took gel from the tube, working it over his dick. He was about to put the tube back on the night table but I indicated he should give it to me.

While he stroked for the fourth time I began to build a little mound of pillows. When my construction was complete I sprawled myself over the pillows on my front, splaying my legs wide, putting my ass way into the air, inviting. I began to apply lube into my ass crack, dabbing it heavily directly on my asshole.

I looked back at him. He was staring at the treat before his eyes.

"Let's just call it time off for good behavior," I said.

There wasn't much for me in this, but frankly I was orgasmed out. I felt Patrick enter me, and I gave a little 'uh' as he did so, the entry and the growing fullness not nearly so uncomfortable as usual.

I wanted Patrick to have this little reward. He had been a good little subbie for me. And while he took his time enjoying the use of my back door I had time to think and consider.

My friend didn't visit very often in the overwhelming and mind-numbing way she had last night. Yes, this dominant female thing was very much to my liking.

But I also realized that part of what made it so satisfying for me was the circumstance under which I had experienced it.

Having some little subbie male who craved and got off on his subordinate role would not have been the same, and would not have interested me.

No, I liked it because I had risked to gain it; and the other I had won it from would rather have won, would rather have taken their winnings from me.

Paul Newman's line in the movie 'The Color of Money' came to mind: "Money won is twice as sweet as money earned."

I understood that concept personally now: playing the role of dominant female was so much sweeter when one had risked the undesirable and distasteful; had risked pain and humiliation to win it.

I had been up on my elbows. Now I put my arms flat on the bed, bringing my torso down onto the cool sheet, my nipples hardening in response. I put my hands together and my chin atop them. And while Patrick took his reward behind me I began to imagine and plot how I could win my way back to where I had been last night.