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Five Minutes

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This is my first attempt writing from the male perspective so bear with me, I hope you enjoy it.


It was Susan Sarandon that started this thing, not that she knows about it, but indirectly it was her.

My wife, Wendy, swore blind it was Geena Davis in the Witches of Eastwick with Cher and Michelle Pfeiffer, and it was Honor Blackman in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I knew it was Susan Sarandon in both, but she was having none of it.

She poked me in the chest telling me she was right and would prove it, as I don’t have a death wish I was being as non-confrontational as I could while maintaining my position that I was right.

“Well, Steve, if you’re that confident put your money where your mouth is.” It was only because she came up with the challenge that I felt safe betting, I was convinced, no, I knew I was right but the rational part of me whispered in my head.

“Don’t make it too big a risk, don’t make it too humiliating or expensive, there’s always a risk you’re wrong or you’re right and she gets even more annoyed at her forfeit.”

“OK, I’ll bet a blowjob.” I thought that would be perfect as a solution, it’s not like it’s something she wouldn’t do relatively happily anyway, and I could claim it when we were out walking in the forest near our home or something.

“Oh, and when you’re wrong, who are you going to blow?” she still thought she was right.

“OK, make it five minutes of whatever you want from the other person, I warn you now my five minutes will be a blowjob. If you’re right you can have whatever you fancy.”

She was laughing at me, which was a good sign, even if she lost it wasn’t going to be a bad reaction.

“OK, I get five minutes of whatever I want from you, I warn you it may be ironing or filling my car with petrol. Don’t get your hopes up.”

I agreed. She nodded and kissed me, whispering “OK, let’s put this to bed.” Then louder “Alexa, who starred in the Rocky Horror Picture Show”

The disembodied voice gave us the news, Tim Curry, Brad Bostwick, Susan Sarandon, Richard O’Brien

“Alexa stop, Alexa who starred in the Witches of Eastwick?”

Again, she doled out the names, Jack Nicholson, Cher, Susan Sarandon, Michelle Pfeiffer

“Alexa stop. OK. You win. Five minutes. Set your watch.” She started kneeling, I nearly went with it which might have saved the problems later, but I stopped her.

“No, I get to choose when I get my five minutes, besides we could have another bet and you might win it back. I really liked that film with Melanie Griffiths in it, what was it…Steel Magnolias?”

She laughed again, clearly I wasn’t in too much trouble for being right, agreeing that I could claim my five minutes at a time of my choosing, within reason, and she might try and win it back, oh and I hated Steel Magnolias.

So, we started a thing, we’d bet each other five minutes on what we’d seen that actor in before or whether we had a spare packet of tea in the house or… you get the idea, any of the dozen things a day you might discuss with your significant other.

Sometimes we’d win back our time, sometimes we’d call it in. Inevitably it ended up being almost exclusively sexual in repayment when I won, and annoying errands from her, largely because we neither really minded and it was only ever about having a laugh.

Where it went wrong was when we went away for a long weekend with her friend Diane and Diane’s husband Grahame. Wendy and Diane went back to school together, which, as Wendy’s thirty-one now, three years younger than me, and they first met when they were both eleven must be around twenty years now. They first met each other when Diane turned up in the second term of St Peter’s Street County Secondary school in Leatherhead. Diane was the dark-haired troublemaker, Wendy was the blonde-haired innocent led astray, or so Wendy tried to claim. Diane saw it the other way round, needless to say the trouble they got into got more interesting the older they got.

It can’t have been too bad because they both passed A levels and got places at the same university, Leeds, on a Design and Textiles course. I heard a few stories from their time there, but it was all a long time before I met Wendy so as far as I was concerned what happened in the past was her business, not mine. I was more interested in our future than her past.

Grahame I knew a bit, from days out as couples, we didn’t have a massive amount in common, he worked in management at a quarry not too far off, I was a technical design engineer in a micro-electronics company. He was a football fan, making the pilgrimage to Portsmouth most weeks to watch Pompey get beaten, whereas I was into motorsports, specifically Bike racing, helping my mate Barry out as a mechanic four or five times a season at places like Donnington Park and Thruxton. He had a Yamaha R1 that he raced in an open club series, I’d tweaked the engine mapping for him to boost his power output from 197 Bhp to 235 Bhp, which made a massive difference, it gave him digitalbahis yeni giriş more acceleration, higher top speeds, and better fuel economy so fewer pitstops on endurance races. OK, I’ll shut up about bikes now, apart from to say I had a shiny MV Augusta that I took out on sunny days.

What I’m getting at was that Grahame was OK, but he drank Lager, I drank Bitter, he liked Heavy Metal, I liked Indie bands, he thought Harley Davidsons were nice, I thought they were agricultural pieces of junk that didn’t deserve the name motorbike. He liked all-inclusive holidays in Ibiza or Cancun, and I liked holidays in mainland Europe off the beaten track, but we got on well enough that a long weekend didn’t seem too bad an idea, besides which Wendy and Diane were both nice to look at and we were going to Center Parcs. We would be staying in one of the mid-range places with a fire and hydrobath, whatever a hydrobath is. My point being, there were always plenty of things to do at Center Parcs, even if they cost a bit, so we didn’t need to entertain each other.

We arrived separately, Wendy and I were there first and got the welcome news that our lodge had suffered a burst water pipe in the kitchen and needed to be redecorated so we were being upgraded to one of the super-duper numero uno lodges with Log Burner, Sauna, Hot tub, and private sun deck.

Feeling quite smug we unloaded the car and while I parked it up Wendy fired up the Sauna, I got back twenty minutes later to find her wrapped only in a towel sitting in the stripped pine glowing pink. I’d taken twenty minutes for a five-minute job because I’d cycled down to the food shop and bought a box of wine and a 12 pack of Timothy Taylor’s Landlord Bitter from the chiller section, we already had a case of craft lager sitting in the fridge as a compromise between what Grahame liked and what I liked.

I peeled down to a towel myself, poured a large Pinot Grigio and a pint and joined her in the dry heat. We had a couple of hours to ourselves, Graham finished at 3 on a Friday but Diane worked in a buying office in London for a fashion chain and wouldn’t leave until 5, home by 6.30, with us by 8.

We’d agreed to wait until they arrived to eat at the onsite pizzeria. It was just coming up to 6, and neither of us had eaten since lunch so the drinks got us a bit giggly quite quickly.

“Wend, babe. How many five minutes do you owe me?”

She was leaning back against wall with her eyes closed, her towel had slipped down so her lovely 32D boobs were looking me in the eye, and very nice they are too.

“I owe you four sets of five minutes; you owe me three. Oh no, not now, it’s too hot sweets.”

I grimaced in mock sorrow, “Well, I’d love to help, but you know, rules is rules. Once the five minutes have been called, and there’s no danger of being seen, well, that’s it. Everyone’s committed. It’s out of my hands.”

I stood up, quickly ran back to the kitchen and refilled her glass, well plastic beaker actually, you try drinking from glass in a Sauna, it gets stupidly hot. We were using Starbucks reusable cups as they were insulated and kept the wine or beer cool without burning your lips.

When I got back she’d moved, her towel was rolled up under her knees and he was tapping her finger on the bench theatrically. “Well come on, you called five minutes, and you’ve wasted forty-five seconds already. You know, rules is rules, it’s out of my hands.”

If you look up ‘Hoist by his own petard’ in the dictionary there’s probably a picture of me looking stupid. I put the two drinks down on the floor and jumped up on the bench, opening my towel as I got there. Wendy smiled at me, her shoulder length blonde hair sticking to her face with sweat, took a long drink of her wine and grabbed hold of the base of my cock. She swallowed the wine, licked her lips and opened her mouth wide, holding the tip upright she pushed out her tongue and licked around the rim, then closed her lips and sucked it hard, pulling it into her delicate, warm, wet mouth. In moments I was swollen to my full size, all ten, well six inches of me. I looked down, watching her run up and down the shaft, slowing to hold the head in her full, pink lips, then lashing me with her tongue before ramming it as far into her throat as she could.

She paused for a moment to check her watch, I still had thirty seconds to go. I could feel her working her magic around the ridge inside her mouth, I was swelling more as I got close.

“Wendy, I’m going to cum, are you ready?”

She held me in her mouth and nodded, then looked at her watch.

“Oh, sorry sweets, time’s up. You know I’d like nothing more than to finish, but like you said. Rules is rules.”

Remember that petard thing? Yeah. That’s me again.

We’d set some rules, basically as follows:

• Once a ‘Five Minutes’ has been called and accepted the clock starts running.

• A ‘Five Minutes’ can only be called in privacy, this was to stop me trying to get her to blow digitalbahis giriş me on a train once. We had a frank exchange of views, and she was proved right when the ticket inspector walked in after what would have been two minutes.

• A ‘Five Minutes’ can only be refused if

(a) there is a risk of being interrupted

(b) the granter of ‘Five Minutes’ is in a foul mood and would sooner stab the other person than suck his dick for five seconds let alone five minutes.

There’s probably no need for me to explain that one.

• Only one ‘Five Minutes’ can be called at a time

That was about it for the rules, but in the three years since Susan Sarandon brought the bet into our lives they’ve seen us alright.

I sat there on the bench, looking down at my hot, swollen cock and whimpered softly. She gave me a little kiss on the tip, smiled and promised we’d finish later. She was just leaning forward to hold me between her beautiful tits when the door opened and Diane stuck her head in.

“Are you in here…ooh sorry, shit. Oh. Sorry.” The door slammed shut and we burst into gales of laughter.

Wendy stood up, retrieved her towel and wrapped up, I had a bit more of a problem, my towel jutted out with what I like to think was an impressive bulge. Wendy laughed again, I guess on the basis that if you can’t laugh at your husband’s embarrassment, what can you laugh at, and to be fair if the positions were reversed I’d laugh at her. She pointed at the rear wall and suggested I make use of the cold shower. With a shudder I sidled round to the rear of the building and the outdoor shower, a minute under the cold torrent and my embarrassment had subsided. I quickly dried myself then re-wrapped the towel and padded back into the lodge.

Wendy was standing in the living room, still only wearing her towel, where she was sipping wine, from a glass this time, and chatting with Diane.

“Where’s Grahame?” I asked, grabbing another bottle of Landlord.

“I was parking the car,” he announced, coming in through the door, he grabbed a Lager and started drinking it from the bottle. “Are we going to eat? I’m starving.”

Over Pizza and beer, they told us how Diane had got out earlier, so they could get down to us earlier, Diane had been looking for us when she, so to speak, found us. The manner of our being found got dragged out a bit, Grahame seemed a bit pissed off that he hadn’t got to see the action but there was no chance of a re-run for his benefit so I told Diane to describe it to him in great detail later on, which he took slightly badly, getting a bit sulky and necking a couple of beers for each one I had, consequently he was quite slurry by the time we got back to the lodge.

When we arrived he tried firing up the hot tub and was pulling his shoes and socks off before the front door was shut.

“Hey, c’mon, less all get in the tub.” His shirt went flying onto the sofa, “Don’ need no swimmers, we’re all friends.”

He was struggling with his trousers and falling on his arse by now, Wendy started for the stairs, I followed. “Good night Diane, Grahame, see you for breakfast at eight? “Wendy can be quite assertive when she wants, and Grahame made the mistake of calling back to her.

“Hey, come on. We’ve got all night, less geddin the tub.”

She turned, assertive Wendy came out, “No. I’m going to bed, so is Steve. If Diane isn’t getting in with you I suggest you don’t get in on your own, you’re that drunk you’d probably drown. Good. Night.”

We lay in our bed, I didn’t push the issue of finishing what we’d started in the sauna, to be honest I was a little creeped out by Grahame’s reaction and I’m not overly sensitive. Wendy rolled over and pretended to be asleep but was really doing the same as me and listening to the raised voices downstairs.

Highlights were “You’re embarrassing me Grahame.” And “Oh it’s just replaying your uni days isn’t it. I bet you hoped I wouldn’t come.” And “Yes, if you come to bed.”

The sound of two people coming upstairs echoed round the building, the other bedroom door opened, and I heard someone moving round, then Diane gave a sort of loud whisper, “What are you doing? Come in here” and footsteps went from outside our door, as the other door closed I heard Grahame saying “So describe it then, is he smaller than me? What are her tits like?”

Wendy stopped pretending to be asleep and rolled towards me. “Sorry” she whispered, kissing me on the mouth, “Let’s do something on our own tomorrow.”

“No, it’s OK, we’ve all been that guy, had too much and lost sight of boundaries. He’ll be sober and apologetic in the morning.”

I got another kiss and a promise of a nice morning wake up, and we both rolled over and were asleep in minutes.

I did get my nice morning wake up, a mug of coffee, white, one sugar and while it was cooling Wendy pulled the bedclothes back, knelt down so her silky nightie hung down giving me a lovely view down her boobs and carried on where she’d finished digitalbahis güvenilirmi the evening before. I loved watching her run her mouth up and down my stiff cock, stopping every now and then to lick at the head or rub her lips along the shaft. She’d paused to look me in the eye and gave a half smile, then pushed me onto my side and lay down in a side on 69′ letting me work on her slippery wet lips and clit with my tongue.

She stopped for a bit and just enjoyed my efforts then rolled round again, pushed me on my back and climbed onto me, gripping my cock by the base, and rubbing it along her lips, then, biting gently on her lower lip she slowly lowered herself down, making sure I had a full view of the head disappearing into her hot wet trimmed and waxed hole. She sank down to the root and started rocking back and forth. It didn’t take long and she was groaning as she started to cum, as she did her muscles squeezed me tighter and tipped me over the edge.

We lay next to each other leaning back on the headboard drinking our still warm coffee, I got the feeling Wendy was trying to find words to say something.

She started once, “Steve, you know I’ve Known Di a lot longer than I’ve known you?” Then went quiet for a while, then started again.

“Steve, you know you’ve always said you aren’t interested in what I did before I knew you, you’re only interested in our future? Well, I need to tell you about some of my past, because I think it has a bearing on why Grahame was like he was last night.”

I was intrigued now, but reassured her that I was genuinely not concerned about anything, “Unless Grahame’s an ex of yours? He’s not is he?”

She laughed, “Fuck no. Not my type at all, in fact I wouldn’t have said he was Diane’s type either, but there you go. No, it’s just that when we were at Uni, Di and I shared a flat and a few times we both had boyfriends come back and we’d sometimes all end up in the same room, once we swapped over halfway through the evening. From what I overheard last night it sounds like Grahame knows and is a bit not OK with it. If it becomes an issue, I need you to know about it and be cool with it.”

I put my mug down and rolled across, kissing her lips. “It’s not an issue. I think it’s kind of hot, I’m guessing you just exchanged partners, no girl on girl?” I asked that last bit with a hopeful tone in my voice.

Assertive Wendy gave me a slap on the shoulder, “I’m opening up here and all you can think is did I get my lips round Diane’s juicy tits. NO, sorry, there was no girl-on-girl action. She did get both boys at once for a couple of minutes but my boyfriend came before I got a chance so I shagged hers and let them both watch. In my defence, a bit pissed, maybe some weed.”

I kissed her again and told her it wasn’t an issue at all and she didn’t need to mount a defence, in fact if she’d just take a look at this, I quite liked the sound of it and it was something else she could mount. “This” was my cock standing to attention again. She seemed quite pleased with the reaction and pulled me onto her, telling me I was nothing but a sad old perv getting excited at stories of a young girl’s innocent adventures.

Her ankles were on my shoulders and I was driving hard into her, her finger was rubbing hard on her clit and she’d pulled her nightie right up to her neck so she could squeeze her nipples with her other hand. I must have been turned on by her recounting her tales of erotic adventure because in a few minutes I was shooting a second, much smaller, load deep into her tight pussy.

The coffee was cold by now so we shared a shower, then she kicked me out and had one to herself. We dressed and went down to wait for our house mates to wake up, it was still early so we had around forty minutes to wait until eight am. I made some more coffee and flicked the TV on quietly.

At around quarter to eight we heard movement from their room, which was directly above the living area, first there were footsteps across the ceiling followed by the unmistakable sound of someone peeing, flushing and washing their hands, this was followed by a return to the bed and a muffled conversation. I’m not proud of myself but I muted the TV hoping to hear better. So far as I could make out Grahame was being very contrite, and Diane was consoling him. Shortly after there was a rhythmic thumping that suggested she’d come up with a cunning way of making friends again.

The thumping went on for a good ten minutes, stopping briefly then starting again at a higher frequency, Wendy looked at me and nodded “Doggy. Won’t be long now.” And sure enough a couple of minutes later there were two muffled shouts then silence. After a couple of minutes footsteps padded across the ceiling again followed by the sound of a shower. While that was going on Grahame padded down the stairs in his boxers and a T-Shirt. He stopped on the bottom step, seemingly struggling for something to say.

He settled on “Oh, Hello. I mean, good morning. Just going to make a brew, are you good?”

As morning small talk went it was adequate, we both held up half full mugs of coffee and declined the offer. He chucked teabags in a couple of mugs and stood looking out of the window. When he turned around his eyes were red rimmed, and he looked very embarrassed.

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