For those of you who have read some of my other stories, you'll know that I am not one to back down from a wager. Hubby and I had scheduled a seven-day Mexican Riviera cruise for the Fall, and I wanted to bring my sister along too. Unfortunately my sis was still suffering the economic woes of a recent divorce, and could not afford to buy her own ticket. That's when I approached hubby and suggested we gift her the tickets. He was not at all receptive, given the cost, but I kept up a steady nag trying to see if he would relent.
About a month before the cruise, hubby came home from work only to be subjected to my whining about a tic for my sis. Instead of turning me down, he suggested a wager. One hand of draw poker, and winner takes all. "Here's the deal," he said, "If I lose, we'll buy a ticket for your sister tomorrow. If you lose, I get to take you to our favorite theater tomorrow night."
Our "favorite" theater was actually a skuzzy adult theater, backing up to an adult book and video store. Hubby had taken me there a few times for a little "stimulation" therapy, as he called it. Although I thought the place was pretty trashed and disgusting, the movies were usually pretty good, and it always lead to a night of passionate love-making afterwards.
"If that's all I have to do to get my sis her ticket, we don't even need a bet, let's just go." I said, thinking that I wish I had known earlier what it would take.
"I'm not finished explaining the payoff." Hubby remarked. "If you lose, I get the pleasure of escorting you to the theater, with you wearing nothing but your London Fog trench coat and your CFM pumps. But wait, it gets better! Once we get into the theater, we're going to grab a front-row seat, and I'm going to zip tie your wrists to the chair. After that, we'll see what happens."
I told hubby I'd have to think this one through, as what he was proposing seemed pretty risky. As the evening wore on, and after a glass or two of wine, the idea of subjecting myself to his "theater scenario", seemed more and more erotic – I mean, the idea of being restrained in my theater seat, and probably exposed to a group of strangers (remember, hubby never said exactly what was in store for me after zip-tying my wrists) was rather titillating. I finally resolved to accept hubby's wager, but I thought I'd bump the bet a little.
"I'll take your bet." I told him, "But if you win, and I go through with your scheme, we're still buying my sis a ticket for that cruise."
He turned around with quite the impish grin, and agreed to my conditions. "Just remember." He said, "I'll be the one to decide just how extreme my little theater scenario will be....assuming that you lose the poker hand, right?"
I nodded in agreement as hubby went off to grab a deck of cards. We both sat at the kitchen table as he shuffled the deck a few times. He pushed the deck my way to cut, but I grabbed up the deck and shuffled it a few more times. After emptying the bottle of wine into my glass, he dealt us each five cards. I was pleased to find a pair of queens in my hand, and slid the other three cards down for the draw. Hubby only laid a single card down, holding back four. With a lovely red glow to my cheeks, courtesy of the bottle of merlot I had consumed, I laid down three queens, confident that I had just won my sister a free ticket to a Mexican cruise. Unfortunately – and I looked it up to confirm the ranking – a flush beats three-of-a-kind. Hubby's hand contained all hearts, and I realized that I would soon be visiting our "favorite" theater!
Hubby came home from work the next evening just as though it were any other Friday night. Conversation at dinner was the usual review of the day's events and news, and not a word was mentioned about our wager from the previous evening. I was beginning to think that maybe he didn't really intend to go through with the pay-off, and since he wasn't talking about it, I wasn't going to start.
At about 9pm, as I began sipping my second glass of brandy for the evening, hubby walked out into the living room carrying my trench coat. The butterflies in my stomach instantly started fluttering, and I could feel my face flush. "It's showtime!" he said, the impish grin returning to his mouth.
We live about 40 minutes drive from the city, and the infamous theater. With a flask of brandy in my pocket for comfort, we headed out of the house – me wearing nothing but my trench coat and a pair of three-inch heals. Traffic was fairly light as we wheeled our way closer to the city, the butterflies in my stomach intermittently giving way to a feeling of erotic excitement. My mind raced through a myriad of scenarios for how the evening was going to turn out.
The store clerk barely lifted his eyes from his book, as we made our way into the theatre. The place hadn't changed a bit since our last visit. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkened theater as hubby lead me towards the front row seating. The seats themselves must have been obtained from an older movie theater that had closed, as I recognized the plush style from my childhood days. I guessed there to be seating for about two-dozen people.
As we moved down the aisle, my eyes scanned the room. I counted eight others in the theater, all men, and all sitting alone isolated from each other. It looked like the usual assortment of guys that one commonly finds hanging out in such an establishment. All eyes in the room seemed to divert from the screen to me, as hubby guided me to a seat in the front row. I am a mid 40s redhead, with as tight a bod as one might expect for a woman who has had a few kids. Hubby took to calling me his own personal MILF about five years ago, demonstrating that he still thinks I'm pretty hot. I think I'm doing ok with my perky little 36c tits, and slightly sloppy ass. I still manage to turn heads, especially when I dress for that purpose. Hubby loves to show me off, and I enjoy the attention, so walking down the aisle of this particular theater was certainly stroking both our egos.
As he sat back in seat next to me, he suggested that I take a last shot of my brandy while I still had access to my hands. Without hesitation, I pulled out my little flask and downed the remaining shot. Once I had put the flask back in my pocket, hubby leaned over to me and asked if I was "ready to pay-off the bet". Anxiety, fear, excitement, all seemed to overwhelm me at that moment. My stomach seemed to be a buzz, I could feel my heart surge, and I could tell my face was flushing. I nodded I was ready to proceed...whatever that meant.
Hubby reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a couple of large black zipties, the kind I've seen cops use when they didn't have enough handcuffs to go around. As he wrapped the tie around my wrist, and then to the arm of my seat, he jokingly whispered that he hoped he had remembered the snips for removing the ties. As though worried that I might change my mind, he moved quickly to secure both my wrists to the chair. That done, he took a moment to glance around the room, then gently untied the belt holding my coat together. First one side, then the other, he opened my coat up, pulling each side over my arms concealing the fact that my wrists were bound to the chair.
There I was, completely naked and exposed, sitting in this grungy porno theater, awaiting whatever might come. Although I was so scared I could feel my body trembling, I was also experiencing an incredibly heightened sense of sexual stimulation. My nipples were stiffer than I could ever recall, and I could feel the juices in my pussy starting to flow. From where I was sitting, I realized that none of the other theater patrons could see what was going on, and for the first time since entering the theater, I began paying attention to the movie. I had no idea what the "theme" of the movie was, but there was a buxomy brunette getting pounded by a couple of well-endowed black guys. As I watched the girl struggling to gobble down what looked like eight inches of fat cock, her muffled cries only heightened my own erotic condition.
