Swallowing The Prize, Ch. 01 free porn video

Rochelle's soft and plump lips inched slowly down her husband's shaft until his cock head grazed the back of her throat, and her nose pushed firmly into his pubic hair. She held him there, and pressed her tongue firmly against the roof of her mouth. His bulging cock reflexively throbbed and expanded in her throat.

"Are you going to join me?" Aaron asked between stilted breaths. This was his polite way of letting her know that if she wanted his hard cock inside her, then she had better stop doing what she was doing as quickly as possible.

She hesitated for a moment before slowly removing him from her mouth with an audible slurping sound.

"No, I'm having fun," she answered in a playful manner. It was the end of a particularly brutal week at work for her husband, and she enjoyed rewarding him for all his hard work with a slow and sensual blowjob. At times, it seemed as though she enjoyed blowing him more than she enjoyed actual intercourse. He could swear there were times in the past when she actually experienced an orgasm from giving head.

From the very first time her lips traveled below his belt, he realized that she was unusually gifted in that particular area of sexuality. Granted, he had only been with three other women before her, so he didn't have much of a basis for comparison, but it was difficult for him to imagine that any woman could possibly be more talented than Rochelle when it came to giving head.

She was blessed with large, soft lips that provided an incredible sensation wherever she placed them. Her tongue was long enough to touch her nose, and it was unusually strong. She was able to twist and contort it in ways that he had never witnessed before, and her favorite party trick was tying a cherry stem into a knot using only her teeth and tongue. Although he considered his dick to be no longer than average, she was the only woman he had ever been with who was able to take the entire length into her mouth, seemingly without any effort at all. It seemed as though she were born to suck cock.

He felt a strong surge building as his wife continued to make love to his cock with her mouth, lips and tongue. A wave of pleasure rippled through his groin, and he could feel the warm and tingling sensation of an orgasm building rapidly. Rochelle removed his cock from her mouth, encircled the base of his shaft with her thumb and forefinger, and squeezed firmly. She always seemed to know when he was just about to explode, and she enjoyed keeping him at the edge of that precipice for such a long time that it often seemed torturous.

"You're killing me," he groaned. She responded with a playful giggle, and began lightly licking, kissing and sucking his balls.

When she was apparently satisfied that he had sufficiently relaxed, she placed his swollen cock back in her mouth and returned to slowly and methodically bobbing her head up and down his shaft while rolling her talented tongue along the underside. He responded with a loud moan, and thrust his hips upward in an attempt to fuck her mouth more quickly. She removed him from her mouth, pushed his hips back down to the bed, and gave him a stern look. This was her way of letting him know that she was in control of the pace, and only she would decide when he would finish.

Aaron gave an exasperated sigh and relaxed his muscles. After twenty-two years of marriage, he knew better than to fight her. She was a strong-willed woman, and it was one of the many qualities that had attracted him to her in the first place. They had met in high school. Her family had just moved to the outskirts of Boston where Aaron had lived his entire life. He was instantly captivated by the "new girl" from Minnesota. They sat next to each other in Algebra class, and enjoyed a friendly and flirty relationship. Although it seemed there was an instant attraction between them, they were both far too shy to act upon it.

Eventually, she went away to college, while Aaron stayed behind in his hometown. Having grown up in a predominantly Italian neighborhood, he had developed a passion and talent for cooking Italian food, and it was his dream to someday open his own restaurant. After graduating, he worked as a landscaper by day and a line cook in the evening. He soon discovered that landscaping offered a quicker path to financial success and abandoned his culinary career. He earned enough money mowing lawns, trimming hedges and plowing driveways and parking lots that he eventually saved enough money to purchase his own equipment. By the age of twenty, he started his own business and hired his first employee.

Aaron celebrated his twenty-first birthday in Boston with a group of old friends from high school. In the course of stumbling from one bar to the next, he ran into Rochelle, who was home for her summer break. They shared an engaging conversation and exchanged numbers. Less than a year later, they were married. And less than a year after that, their daughter, Jamie, was born.

"Seriously," Aaron groaned. "Just let me finish. You're driving me fucking crazy."

Rochelle refused to break her slow pace, and hummed a satisfied note, sending vibrations through his cock that only added to his aching sensation.

"Okay, fine," she groaned, removing him from her mouth once again. "You can be such a baby sometimes."

She reinserted his throbbing cock into her wet mouth and bobbed her head up and down his shaft at a quicker pace, pressing her tongue hard against his length. His cock head expanded, his balls tightened, and he gave a loud moan as a powerful blast of cum erupted from his cock into her mouth. She moaned in appreciation, and continued sucking as several more spurts emptied into her hungry mouth.

She was the first woman he ever dated who ever swallowed his cum. She once told him that she enjoyed the taste of it, and considered it to be her ultimate prize for a job well done. Although it wasn't the reason he decided to marry her, it was certainly a major point in her favor.

She continued sucking and slurping until she was satisfied that he had been drained of every last drop. Although she had been sucking him for a very long time, she seemed disappointed that her "fun" was over. Reluctantly, she removed his deflated dick from her mouth and snuggled beside him, nuzzling her head against his chest.

"Mmm," she moaned. "That was fun."

"You are really amazing, you know that?" he said, still breathing heavily.

"Yeah... I know," she responded, and gave his chest a kiss.

*

"We got a letter today from B.U.," Aaron growled. He took another heavy swig from his pint. "They're upping Jamie's tuition by ten percent! Can you believe it? Those fucking pricks."

Anthony shook his head in disgust, and quickly drained the rest of the beer from his glass before signaling to the bartender for another round.

"Unbelievable," he said. "But what are you gonna do? They got you over a fucking barrel."

Anthony had been Aaron's best friend since grade school. They had stood by each other's side through good times and bad. For Aaron, those good times included the expansion of his landscaping business to the point where he was able to provide enough income to allow Rochelle to stay home with Jamie. He felt that it was important for his daughter to have her mother at home throughout her childhood, and was very proud of himself for providing enough income to make that happen. They certainly weren't wealthy by any reasonable standard. In fact, they lived from paycheck to paycheck for most of their married lives. But Rochelle was great with money, and together they were able to set enough money aside for a down payment on a nice home near his old neighborhood. They also stashed away enough money to send Jamie to college.

"How's the business doing?" Anthony asked. Aaron responded with a grunt.

"That good, huh?" Anthony said with a smirk.

"We still haven't recovered from the recession," Aaron said. "We were doing real good during the housing bubble. Lots of new houses being built, and a bunch of rich people moving into them, all needing landscaping. But then the fucking bubble burst. And these new fucked-up regulations by the government are killing me. I've had to cut back my workforce and work more hours myself. I fucking hate it. I'm getting too old for this shit."

"I hear you, man," Anthony responded. "It's tough all around."

Although he couldn't seem to explain exactly what he did for a living, Anthony seemed to be well off, and immune to whatever economic difficulties were plaguing the rest of the people Aaron knew. Anthony was the type of guy who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, and he had a connection for everything. If you needed an electrician, he knew a guy for that. If you needed a lawyer, he was good friends with a great one. Hell, if you needed to dispose of a dead body, chances are that Anthony knew a guy who could take care of that as well.

"We're looking at $100,000 in debt by the time Jamie is done with college," Aaron continued. "And that's after the scholarship money and financial aid - and before this latest increase! The college fund that we started for her isn't even half that. And we'll have to dig into that savings to pay for a new plow for my truck. If I don't replace that old busted plow before next winter, I won't have any income until the spring."

"I'm sorry, man," Anthony responded softly. "That just sucks."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and blithely watched the Red Sox game on the flat screen behind the bar.

"Is Rochelle still waiting tables?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, she's been working at the diner a lot," Aaron said. "She's picking up extra shifts, trying to pick up the slack. But there's just too much slack."

Rochelle had picked up a part-time job waiting tables when Jamie entered high school. Although the extra income was nice, it barely covered their mortgage bill. Unfortunately, they had purchased their home at the height of the housing bubble, and it was now worth less than they owed on it.

"It's a shame she can't put that finance degree to use," Anthony said. "You know, I might know a guy who could use someone with her skills."

Aaron scoffed, and shook his head. "Yeah, four years of expensive schooling, and what did she get from that degree? It makes me wonder if we're making the same mistake with Jamie. Rochelle has looked into jobs in banking and investing, but honestly, it's been so long since she graduated, her degree is just about worthless at this point. I guess it helps around the house. She balances our checkbook and manages our savings. Shit like that. But it's not the type of skill she can use in the workplace anymore."

"It just seems like a shame," Anthony said. "She paid all that money for all that knowledge, and it just went to waste. I've always been taught that if you have some kind of knowledge, skill, or talent that sets you apart, then it's a shame not to make some money off of it."

"Oh, Rochelle definitely has a talent," Aaron laughed, "but it's not something she could make money with."

Anthony gave him a quizzical look, followed by a wide-eyed expression.

"Oh! You mean..."

"Yeah, man," Aaron replied with another laugh.

"Yeah, you've bragged about that particular talent a few times over the years," Anthony said with a chuckle.

"Well... I'm sorry, but I have to have something to brag about, don't I?"

There was another long moment of silence. On the flat screen in front of them, the pitcher for the Red Sox hung his head after allowing a long home run over the Green Monster. The fans surrounding them in the bar responded with a collective groan.

"You know," Anthony said, after an extended period of contemplation, "there actually is a way to make money from that particular talent."

"If you're suggesting my wife become a whore, I'll knock you the fuck out," Aaron responded with a mock-serious look of intimidation.

"No, no, no," Anthony said, raising his hands in defense. "I don't mean that."

"Okay, then what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well," Anthony responded, pausing to take another swig of beer, "do you remember back in the day, we used to go over to Joey Pinelli's house and sneak into his basement to watch porno videos?"

Aaron laughed out loud. "Shit, I had forgotten about that. But yeah, now that you mention it."

"Well, you probably don't remember, then, but one of the movies we watched back then was called Stiff Competition. Do you remember that one?"

"Is that the one with the dick-sucking competition?"

"That's it."

"Yeah, actually, I think that one was my favorite."

"Mine, too," Anthony responded. He took another long swig of beer. "Well, apparently, it was the favorite of a lot of people, because someone took it upon themselves to hold an actual event just like it."

"You're shittin' me."

"No, seriously. It's been going on for years - and I mean years. It started out as a small, underground, event, but it's been growing and growing every year. It's become a huge deal."

"Then why haven't I heard about it until now?"

"Because it's still underground. And you're an old married guy, that's why!" Anthony took great pride in being an eternal bachelor. He moved closer to Aaron and lowered his voice.

"They call it the National Cocksucking Championship - the NCC's," Anthony whispered. Aaron snorted in response.

"It's turned into a huge, huge money-maker," Anthony continued. "It's held in Vegas every year, at an undisclosed location. I'm not even sure if it's legal."

"If it's underground, then how do you know about it? And how do they make money?"

"First of all," Anthony responded with a smirk, "I know things. Okay? And secondly, they make money in lots of different ways. They charge $200 for tickets. And they charge $49.95 - per day - to view it online. They stream it directly to your computer. Add in all the money from gambling, and I'm telling you, they must make millions off this thing."

Aaron sat back and shook his head. Their eyes returned to the ballgame as they continued to drink their beers.

"So, how much money is involved for the participants?" Aaron finally asked.

"First place prize money is $200,000."

Aaron choked on his beer and coughed. "Fucking seriously?"

"Fucking seriously," Anthony answered. "I think the second place prize is $50K, which isn't too shabby, either, for four days work."

Thoughts swirled through Aaron's head. $200,000 would not only pay for Jamie's tuition, but it would be more than enough to pay for a new plow. Even $50,000 would go a long way toward easing his financial woes. Then it suddenly occurred to him how this whole topic of conversation had arisen in the first place.

"Wait, you're not seriously suggesting that Rochelle enter this contest," Aaron said with a stern expression.

"Fuck, no," Anthony responded, again raising his hands in defense. "I was just responding to what you said about making money off of that particular talent. That's all. I know Ro would never go for that."

"No, she wouldn't. Not to mention the fact that I wouldn't go for it, either!"

"I don't blame you, bro," Anthony said, with his hands still raised. "If I had a wife as talented as you say Rochelle is, I wouldn't want to share her with anyone, either. And I wasn't suggesting that at all."

Aaron returned his gaze to the ballgame. He wasn't paying attention to the game, however, and didn't even seem to notice when the Sox pitcher allowed yet another home run to put the game out of reach. His thoughts were somewhere else.

*

It was a Sunday, which meant it was the only day of the week that both Aaron and Rochelle had the day off. With Jamie out of the house, it meant they had the whole day to themselves. After sleeping in late and running errands in the afternoon, Aaron took the pasta maker out of the storage closet. It had been years since he had last made home-made pasta, and he embraced the opportunity.

He thoroughly cleaned the granite countertop in his kitchen, and then spread a generous amount of flour. He formed the flour into a circle, made a hole in the middle, and cracked two eggs into the center. He added salt and extra-virgin olive oil, and then whisked the egg, gradually mixing it with the flour until it formed a solid mass of dough. He kneaded and folded it, and wrapped it in plastic. While he waited, he sautéed onions, carrots and celery with a little olive oil in a pan. He then added red wine, garlic, beef, and sweet sausage, and let it simmer.

All the while, he sipped from a bottle of wine that he had purchased earlier in the day. Rochelle often claimed that drinking wine was the only reason he enjoyed cooking. It was difficult to deny that it wasn't part of the whole experience. Quite simply, he found that cooking relaxed him in a way that few other activities did. As he cooked, Rochelle stood by his side, enjoying the wine as well as her husband's company.

"You really should have been a chef," she remarked as she watched him prepare their meal. She clasped a glass of wine in one hand and stroked his hair with the other.

"Well, that was the plan," Aaron stated. "Once upon a time. A long, long time ago."

"It's not too late," she said. "Sell the landscaping business. You had an offer not long ago from Monsanto. See if they're still interested. We could take the money and buy a restaurant."

"First of all," Aaron said, pausing to sip from his glass and stir the sauce, "Monsanto can kiss my ass. They're the ones who are driving me out of business. They only made that offer so they'd have less competition. I was here first."

"You and your pride," Rochelle teased, stroking his hair.

"Second of all," Aaron continued, "my dreams of becoming a chef are over. It's something I enjoy doing for fun, but I can't start all over again. I'm a landscaper. I made that decision years ago."

"You can always change," Rochelle insisted. "You're still young enough."

Aaron laughed out loud. "I really love that you think so, honey, but I'm in no position to start a new career, trust me. We have bills to pay. Lots and lots of bills."

"Well, I just think it's such a waste of talent," Rochelle insisted. "I mean, you are such a great cook. Not just a good cook - a great cook. You have a gift. It seems like such a shame that I'm the only one who gets to benefit from that gift. And I just know that you could use that gift to make some extra money. It's like we're leaving all that money just sitting out there on a table."

A burst of laughter erupted from Aaron's mouth, and Rochelle withdrew her hand in surprise. He tried to contain his laughter, but failed miserably. Already, he could feel that the wine had gone to his head.

"What's so funny?" Rochelle asked with a curious expression. "I don't get it."

Aaron tried to collect himself, but had a difficult time containing his laughter. He continued to stir the sauce, and took another sip of his wine.

"This just reminds me of a conversation that I just had a few days ago with Anthony," he explained. "We had almost the exact same conversation."

Rochelle squinted her eyes in an attempt to read her husband's thoughts.

"So, Anthony thinks you should go back to cooking, too?" she asked.

"No, no," he responded with a chuckle. "That wasn't it."

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a curious look.

"Okay," she said, "then what was that conversation about?"

"Never mind," he responded. "Dinner is ready. Can you set the table, please?"

"Sure," she responded. "Right after you tell me what you two were talking about."

"I will," he promised. "Later. But right now, we need to eat. I've timed everything perfectly, and don't want to ruin it."

Reluctantly, Rochelle set the table. As they thoroughly enjoyed their meal, she repeatedly pressed him to explain his reaction to their earlier conversation, but he managed to steer her away from it, and promised to explain it all after dinner.

He hoped that she would simply forget about it and drop the subject. The truth of the matter was that he had been obsessing about his conversation with Anthony for days. He had even conducted some research online, and validated that what his friend had told him about the Las Vegas tournament was true. It seemed impossible to believe at first, and yet, not only did this tournament exist, but the prize money was exactly what Anthony said it was.

Aaron had spent many sleepless nights tossing and turning over the idea, and had vivid dreams of his wife entering this tournament and blowing a bunch of random strangers. He was surprised to discover that he was greatly aroused by the idea of it, but he struggled to understand exactly why it was.

After finishing their dinner, they enjoyed a lengthy time snuggling together on the couch and watching television. Afterward, they retired to bed. He initiated sex, and was pleased that she was receptive to his advances.

They spooned together for a while, and he kissed the back of her neck, and nibbled on her ear. Reflexively, his hard cock throbbed against her ample behind. She responded by gyrating her hips against him, which gave him a clear signal to continue.

As he continued to kiss her neck, his hands roamed to her breasts. Although she was well-endowed when he met her, her breasts had swelled immensely after she gave birth to Jamie. She gained quite a bit of weight during her pregnancy, but he didn't mind it a bit. He found it sexy that she had become so curvy and womanly. Rochelle, however, didn't embrace her new figure nearly as much. She hid her body behind clothing that was several sizes too large, and seemed embarrassed and ashamed of the weight she had gained. In Aaron's eyes, she never looked better. Yet, no matter how often he told her this, she didn't seem to believe him.

He moved on top of her, and kissed her passionately. His kisses moved down to her neck, and then to her breasts. He spent a great deal of time kissing, sucking, licking and squeezing her tits, and she moaned with pleasure, and ran her fingernails through his hair. He then moved even lower, and flicked his tongue over her warm, wet pussy. She writhed around the bed in response, and moaned in ecstasy.

He flipped her over onto all fours, and rubbed his hard cock along her wet slit before gently pushing it inside her. She groaned, and pushed herself back to get him deeper inside her. This time, he was in charge of the pace, and he firmly held her rear in his hands. Asher breasts had swelled over the years, so had her ass, and Aaron found it incredibly sexy.

As he slowly worked his way in and out, she responded with loud moaning. Since their daughter had moved away from home, he noticed that Rochelle had become much more vocal in bed. It was one of the many benefits of having an empty nest. He thrust himself into her more forcefully, enjoying the sound of his hips slapping against her ass, as well as the view of her butt cheeks rippling with each and every thrust.

"I'm really close," he warned her, and she responded by reaching underneath and rubbing her clit.

He continued to pound away, harder and harder. He was on the verge of ecstasy, and held back as long as he could. At last, she emitted a loud moan, and her muscles expanded and contracted around his cock. He recognized this signal, and pumped harder and faster until he exploded inside her. They collapsed together into a mass of exhaustion and satisfaction.

As he held her in his arms, he felt himself slowly drift away from consciousness.

"So what was this conversation that you had with Anthony?" she asked, yanking him back into reality.

"Honey... just drop it," he said, groggily.

"No, I want to know. Were you talking about me?"

She could be so stubborn sometimes. It was one of the traits that he found both alluring and annoying.

"We were just talking about how some people have special talents, and how they waste their talent by not making any money from it. I found it funny, because you said the same thing earlier. That's all."

"And you weren't talking about cooking?" she asked.

"No, it wasn't about me," he answered.

"So...whose talent is being wasted? Does Anthony have a talent I don't know about?"

"Why are you pushing this so hard?" Aaron implored.

"I just get a really weird feeling that you're holding something back from me," she responded. It was so annoying to him that she was right so often.

"Okay, fine. We were talking about you, okay? Your talent."

She laughed. "What talent? I have no talent."

"Oh, yes, you do," he said.

There was a long pause.

"You're not talking about... that. Are you?"

Although it was dark in their bedroom, she could clearly see him nod his head.

"Oh. My. God. I can't believe you told him about that!" she said.

"I'm sorry, honey," Aaron said, "but I love bragging about you. And you are really - really - good at that particular thing."

"You're ridiculous," she said. "I'm flattered that you think so, but I'm no better than any other woman, I'm sure."

"No," Aaron insisted, "you are exceptional. Trust me."

"Again, I'm flattered," she said, "but how would you know? You've only been with two other women in your entire life."

"Three," he corrected.

"Oh, yeah," she said. "I forgot about Kathy. But you said she only gave you a blowjob."

"Well, that's what I'm talking about," he responded. "I've had blowjobs from four different women, and you are - by far - the best. I mean, it's not even close."

Rochelle buried her head in her husband's chest in embarrassment.

"Well, I'm glad that you think so," she said. "But why the hell would you talk about that with Anthony?"

"Like I said, we were having the same exact conversation, and it just struck me as funny. That's all."

"Wait a minute. You were talking about making money off of our talents. Are you implying that I should become a hooker?"

"Jesus, no! No, no, no," he said, stroking her hair. "That's not it at all. Anthony told me about a tournament in Vegas. It's a high-stakes tournament. It has nothing to do with you. I just said you would win it, hands-down."

"What kind of tournament?"

Aaron hesitated. The logical half of his brain was screaming for him to run away from this conversation as fast as possible. But his "little brain" was telling him to press on.

"It's nothing, honey," he said. "Seriously. I don't know why you're interrogating me like this."

"I'm not interrogating you. I just want to know what you were saying about me. What tournament were you talking about?"

"It's a dick-sucking tournament. Okay?" After the words came out of his mouth, he realized that he practically shouted them. He lowered his voice. "We were talking about a dick-sucking tournament. In Vegas. It's a really high-stakes tournament. I said - jokingly - that you would win that tournament. And I believe that; I really do. But it wasn't a serious conversation."

There was a long silence. Rochelle rested her head once again, and her soft hair tickled his chest.

"A dick-sucking tournament?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Like, that's a real thing? Women actually do that?"

"Yeah."

Another long pause.

"How can they demean themselves like that?" she asked.

"Well, how is it demeaning? No one is forcing them to do it. They're competitors. It's like a hotdog eating contest, only with dicks instead of hotdogs. No one thinks the people in those hotdog eating contests are demeaned in any way. Hell, they're considered athletes."

"So you think a woman that sucks dicks is an athlete?"

"Well... in a way, yeah," he responded. "I mean, what is an 'athlete', exactly? It's someone who performs a physical feat in a contest. Right? So, how is hotdog eating any different than dick-sucking?"

"Umm... because dick-sucking is sexual?" Rochelle snapped back.

"Says who?" Aaron retorted. "Because it involves a dick? So, would a pissing contest be sexual? If you ask me, the ones who are being demeaned are the guys who are having their dicks sucked. I mean, they're just used as props in a contest. They're like a bunch of cows standing in line to be milked. To me, that's demeaning. There's nothing demeaning about what the women are doing. They're the ones in charge. They're the stars of the show. And they're the ones who benefit in the end."

There was another long period of silence, as Rochelle seemed to collect her thoughts.

"I just... I've never heard of such a thing," she said, finally.

"Me, neither," Aaron responded. "Anthony and I were just talking. Just two guys at a bar, talking about guy stuff. Apparently, he's seen this tournament before. Live, in Vegas. I guess it's a big deal. There's a lot of money in it."

"How much money?"

"Grand prize is $200,000."

She gasped. There was another long period of silence, and Aaron thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep.

"$200,000?" she asked, suddenly.

"Yeah, $200K," he answered. "Second place is $50K, I think."

She stroked her fingernails through his chest hair.

"You wouldn't really want me to do that, right?"

"Do what? Enter that tournament? No, of course not." There was silence for a long while. "You wouldn't want to do that... right?" he asked.

"I guess not," she answered.

He sat up in bed, now fully awake.

"You guess not? What do you mean 'guess?' You mean you'd actually consider it?"

She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at him.

"Okay, let's just step back a second. Would you really be okay with me sucking some guy's dick?"

Aaron had put a lot of thought into that question since his conversation with Anthony. He couldn't deny that every time the thought occurred to him, he got a massive hard-on. He couldn't explain why that happened, exactly, but it was undeniable that he found the idea of his wife sucking another man's cock to be arousing.

"It's not like you would fall in love with the guy or anything," he explained. "You'd just be sucking his dick, right? Like a farmer milking a cow."

Rochelle burst into laughter at the image he created.

"You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" she giggled.

"I just don't see a big deal about you sucking a dick if there's no love or affection involved. You'd just be using some guy to get his cum. There's nothing really sexual about that, and no reason for me to be jealous."

Rochelle chuckled once more. "Wow," she said, "that is quite a justification you've built in your head."

"Am I wrong? Would you fall in love with some guy just because you sucked his dick? Would you love me any less if you did?"

"Of course not," she said.

"Well... there you go."

After another long pause, she spoke once more.

"Well, I'm flattered that you think I'm so good at sucking dick that I could win a national tournament. But like I said, you don't have much of a basis for comparison. I'm only the best that you've ever had. And I'm sorry to tell you, honey, but you haven't had that many."

"And I'm telling you," Aaron insisted, "you have a natural and unique talent. You just don't realize how good you are. You're always telling me that I have a talent for cooking. Well, I'm telling you that you have a talent, too. You may think it's a trivial talent, but the fact that someone is willing to pay $200,000 for that talent tells me that it isn't trivial at all. It's a gift. And someone told me that when you have a unique gift, it is a shame to waste it."

"I'm going to sleep," she said. "Something tells me we'll both regret this conversation in the morning."

*

Aaron normally awoke two hours earlier than Rochelle on Monday mornings, and so he was surprised to see her plod down the stairs in the wee hours of the morning and sit beside him as he sipped his coffee.

"What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep," she explained, yawning and stretching.

"You're not still obsessing about that conversation from last night, are you?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes, I am," she stated flatly.

"Honey, I'm sorry I even mentioned it. That's why I didn't even want to mention it, but you kept pressing me. You're right, it would be beneath your dignity to enter that tournament. But then again, so is waiting tables. And mowing lawns at my age is beneath my dignity. We all sacrifice a little of our dignity to make our lives better. But I'll tell you one thing, if I busted my ass and mowed every lawn in town, I wouldn't make as much money as you would make in four days in Vegas. That's just a fact."

Rochelle rose from her chair, walked across the room, and filled her mug with coffee. She leaned against the counter as she spoke.

"How do you even know I'm that good?" she asked. "Maybe I just know you so well after being married for so long that I know what you like. Maybe I wouldn't be nearly as good with another guy."

"Maybe," Aaron said. "I guess there's only one way to know for sure."

She stared at him, attempting to discern whether he meant what she thought he meant.

"You mean suck someone else's dick?" Her expression revealed nothing about her emotion.

"Well, yeah," Aaron replied, cautiously, "I guess so."

"And whose dick would I suck?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "Anyone."

"I'm not just going to suck some stranger's dick," she said. "That doesn't sound safe."

Aaron thought for a moment. "How about Anthony?" he asked.

"Are you insane?" she asked with her jaw opened.

"I trust Anthony with my life. We've known each other forever, and he'd never, ever do either of us any harm. He's also been with a ton of women, so he'd be a good judge of talent."

"You are not seriously suggesting that I suck Anthony's dick," she said.

"I trust him more than anyone in the world - except you, of course. We've been together forever. I know he would give us an honest answer and settle this matter once and for all. I wouldn't trust anyone else."

"You're asking me to blow your friend. You don't think that would be a little weird?"

"I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm just saying that if you were to seriously consider this, then I would support you doing this with Anthony."

"This is crazy," she said, shaking her head. "You know that, right?"

Aaron nodded his head. She sat in silence and drank her coffee. He could see the wheels turning in her head.

"$200,000 would cover Jamie's tuition," she said, thinking out loud. "And there would be plenty left over for our other bills. If you sold your business, and combined that money with the rest of the winnings, you could even buy that restaurant you've always wanted."

"If you were to enter that tournament and win," he said, "I would sell my business and buy that restaurant."

Rochelle stared at him, and saw that he was serious. She recognized that this could be a life-changing decision in more ways than one.

"You can't keep mowing lawns and plowing driveways forever," she reasoned. "I know you hate the landscaping business. I spent fourteen years staying at home with Jamie while you were out doing something you hated doing, in order to support our lifestyle. And you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you've done for our family. I guess this would be an opportunity for me to contribute."

"Honey, you don't have to do this," he said.

"Oh, I know I don't have to," she responded. "But I think that... maybe... I might want to."

Aaron sat silently, and watched his wife as she struggled to justify her decision.

"You really think I'm that good?" she asked.

Aaron nodded with a smile.

"Okay, then. Let's find out for sure."

*

That evening, Aaron invited Anthony to dinner. The three of them sat around their kitchen table and enjoyed a plate of homemade pasta and sauce that Aaron had prepared over the weekend. They laughed and chatted as usual, and shared a bottle of wine that Anthony had brought with him. When dinner ended, Aaron finally revealed the reason why Anthony had been invited.

"So, tell me more about this tournament in Vegas," Aaron said.

Anthony shot him a look of confusion, and his eyes darted back and forth between Aaron and Rochelle.

"It's okay," Aaron assured him. "She knows about it. I told her about it."

"You fucking told her?" Anthony said with a chuckle. "What's the matter with you?"

"When is it?" Rochelle asked.

"Why?" Anthony asked with a laugh. "You want me to get you some tickets?"

"Actually," she said, "I was thinking of competing."

Anthony's mouth gaped open, and his wide eyes flicked back and forth between them.

"You're fucking with me, right?" he asked. Both Aaron and Rochelle shook their heads and smiled. They were thoroughly enjoying his reaction.

"Seriously, when is the tournament?" Rochelle repeated.

"It's in November," he responded. "You're not serious."

"She's serious, bro" Aaron answered with a look of glee. Anthony couldn't stop shaking his head.

"How does it work?" she asked. "How is the winner determined?"

"It's basically a race," Anthony explained, still visibly uncomfortable with the line of questioning. "The woman who gets their guys to finish first wins."

"But some guys cum quicker than others," Rochelle said. "So how is that fair?"

"They blow three guys per match," Anthony explained, although he appeared clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "The odds eventually even out, and the most talented women generally win more often than the others. The people who put this together go a lot to make sure the matches are as fair as possible. The guys who participate are all screened for health, they're all required to jerk off three days before their appearance, so they all start from the same point. They're all blindfolded, and they wear noise-canceling headphones, to block out any distractions. Their turns are randomly generated. Their dicks all have to be the same size."

"How big?" she interrupted.

"About seven inches long, average thickness," he responded. "It gives the contestants a little bit of a challenge, but isn't so big that it's difficult to find enough cocks for the contest."

"Where do they find these guys?"

"It ain't exactly difficult finding guys who want their dicks sucked by championship-caliber cock-suckers, believe me. They get more applications than they can handle."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I know things. I've been out there a few times, and know a few people."

"There's just one thing I need to know before I'd seriously consider it," Rochelle said. "Aaron seems to think I'm the best...you know...cocksucker. I think his opinion is extremely biased."

Her face turned a deep red.

"We were thinking," Aaron interrupted, "that maybe you could give us your unbiased and honest opinion."

Anthony's eyes grew even wider. He turned to Rochelle. "You want me to watch you suck his cock?"

She shook her head.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Anthony said, loudly, and held both hands out in front of him. "No, I don't think that's a good idea at all."

"Anthony... I trust you," Aaron said. "I'm giving you permission. We go back a long, long way, man. I'm asking you to do this as a favor for me. For us."

"A favor?" Anthony shouted, incredulously. "For you? If she's as good as you say she is, then that seems like a favor to me!"

"However you want to look at it is cool," Aaron responded.

Anthony turned to Rochelle. "And you're okay with this?"

She nodded her head and gave him a dirty grin.

"This is unbelievable," he said. He looked at both of them. "You both are fucking crazy, you know that. You're sure you want to do this?"

"How many times are you going to ask?" Aaron said. "We're sure. It's just a blowjob, man. Don't turn it into a big deal."

"Just a blowjob," Anthony responded with a laugh. "Okay, fine. I'll go along with you. What do you want me to do?"

"Just stand up," Rochelle said, "before I change my mind."

*

To be continued…