Date: Sun, 1 Feb 2004 01:37:04 EST From: Mnhowler@aol.com Subject: You Lost The Bet -- Chapter 6 You Lost The Bet - Chapter 6 By R.A. Swain Disclaimer: This is adult oriented original fiction depicting explicit sexual situations and graphic sexual situations between adult men. By reading further you are accepting this as natural behavior, and claiming to be of legal age to enjoy such material. If you like what you read here you may send feedback to mnhowler@aol.com or docswain@aol.com You may also check out my slash fiction at: Aside from the thrill of the bet, the little feeling of butterflies in the stomach whenever a bet is in play, before knowing whether or not I won or lost, there is another thrill in bets and dares that runs very deep. It is the thrill of doing something somewhere that you normally wouldn't be doing what you are doing. It's like going nude on a beach where you aren't supposed to be nude; the thrill of the risk, and the defiance of the accepted is a very intoxicating feeling. It's not just the excitement of doing something because you're bored, although that is usually what initiated those words like "Wanna bet?" or "I dare you." Many of those boring situations in everyday life can be spiced up with a little game playing, as I found out a long time ago. One dare stands out very much in my mind, as being one of those boring situations spiced up by the element of the risk. This too was one from my college days, with my roommate Chris. The lecture auditorium was semi-filled for a spring day. The film and lecture on the great masters of expressionism, or something like that, was part of an elective I needed to fulfill a credit requirement. Chris was in the class for the same reason. We were sitting in the back top row, as the 45 minutes film started. The professor sat down in the front, ignoring the students and basically treating the whole class as the time filler it was. "I'm gonna fall asleep," I whispered to Chris. Chris looked at me with a smirk on his face. "I know how you can stay awake." "How?" I asked, yawning. "Play with yourself for the length of the film." He answered very matter-o-factly. "Huh?" He had my full attention. "You heard me. I dare you to play with yourself for the length of the film, without blowing a load," he whispered. I looked around at the nearly empty room. The closest person was three rows ahead of us, and none to my immediate right for several rows. I looked back at Chris. "Just play with myself?" Chris nodded. Then added, "through your open fly." "What if I cum?" I asked. "You're underwear will get all gooey," he whispered, fighting back a laugh. I rolled my eyes. "I mean, it'll be noticeable," I whispered. I was wearing light tan shorts, and knew if I blew a load anyone who saw me leaving would know what I did. Chris glanced around. "Then take you cock out of your shorts," he whispered. "No one call see us in the dark." I was hesitant, but he knew he had me. I slowly reached for my fly and toyed with the zipper for a few seconds. Chris leaned over and whispered, "If you don't blow a load by the end of the film, you win. I'll have to do something just as public." That was all I needed. I nervously glanced around again to make sure no one was paying us any attention, and quickly pulled down my fly. While pretending to pay full attention to the film, I reached into my shorts, and then into my boxers, and subtly slipped my cock out of my pants. The thrill of being exposed like that in a classroom gave me an almost instant woodie. My spring to life didn't go unnoticed by Chris who snickered. I slumped down in my seat, but realized that position thrust my hips forward and out from under the small hand desk attached to the chair. Sitting up more, I casually caressed my shaft and tip, which was sticking straight up. I hadn't considered how visible my cock would be if the lights came up suddenly, or how long I was going to be torturing myself. The dare was until the film ended, and the thought of now sitting for 30 or more minutes in a public classroom, albeit a dark classroom, stroking myself sunk in. If I blew my load it would go all over the front of my shorts, making it obvious what I had done, and I would have to walk out of the building and across campus and into my dorm to change. While I could manage to hide it behind my books, there was no telling just how much of a mess it would make. Chris and I both had been playing games and working on power blasts, as we called them. A power blast was when you could pump out seven or more streams of cum before slowing to a dribble or stopping. After working on high protein diets and edging games, we both could pretty much make a good size splash in the cum department. I sat trying to pay some attention to the film, and hoping no one would turn around and see me sitting in a semi-visible spot stroking my cock. I tried not to pay attention to the feeling of my fingers wrapped around my shaft, or allow my thumb to toy with my piss slit, as I liked to do when I was in the dorm room. I tried not to do it, but it was just a natural movement along with the twist of the wrist as I stroked my hand up and down my shaft. It didn't take long for me to feel the first wave of my edging expertise kick in. I knew I was close, and had to slow down, or I'd end up covered in cum. I looked down at my stiff cock, and realized, should I blow a load it would not only go all o my shorts, but my t-shirt as well. "You want to cum, don't you?" Chris whispered, leaning close to my ear. I shook my head, forcing my focus onto anything other than the pleasure I would feel shooting my load at that moment. I looked around the room and wondered if anyone had noticed my hand movements in the dark or, if on some other campus somewhere in the world another guy was doing the same thing as I? "You know it would feel good to shoot right now," Chris whispered in my ear. He was taunting me, goading me, trying to get me to lose the bet. "I'm just thinking about where I'm going to dare you to put on a similar show," I whispered back. Suddenly I realized that was exactly what I was doing. I was putting on a show for my buddy. He was watching me playing with myself, and the knowledge of that made me even harder. It also gave me an advantage. I glanced down at Chris's baggy shorts and saw the tent in them. He was as hard as I. I knew what I would dare him to do, if I won. I wondered if I should torture him with the thought of what he was going to be doing when I won? Why not, I reasoned? I leaned over toward him and whispered gently into his ear. "When I win this bet, I dare you to walk across the campus without adjusting your cock in your shorts," I said. Chris looked down at his crotch and realized what I was daring him to do. "Come on," he whispered back, a hint of desperation in his tone. "That's more public than what you're doing." "If I lose I'm gonna have cum all over my shorts and t-shirt," I answered. "Anyone who sees me will know what I did. You said you'd do something just as public." Chris closed his eyes. "Man, it would feel so good to shoot a load right now," he whispered to me again, a bit more urgency in his voice. "You know you want to." I had him. Now if I could only hold out to the end of the film. I glanced at my watch and realized I still had another ten minutes or so to go. My fingers glided up and down my shaft. My thumb brought me to the edge two more times. I had a thin layer of sweat on my upper lip, and Chris knew I was very close to the edge. I felt his eyes on my cock, taking in the show. I watched the movie, and gently stroked myself for his viewing pleasure. I looked over at the tent in his shorts and pictured him walking back to the dorm with his cock so obviously tented. The only thing I'd rather see would be him walking across the campus naked with his cock pointing the way. Oh, I shouldn't have given the thought of Chris naked and hard walking across the campus so much consideration. I was way too close to the edge. I bit my lower lip and squeezed my eyes shut, but I was done for. In one sharp intake of breath I felt the first ribbon of cum struggle up the length of my shaft and to the tip. I couldn't fight it. I opened my eyes and saw it fly up and over two empty rows of chairs in front of me. I gave in to the urge and squeezed my shaft and the second ribbon of cum shot up and landed on my chest and stomach. The third and forth pulses shot out and covered my t-shirt and were now landing on my shorts as well. The fifth and sixth spurts landed on my shorts, and the seventh and eight began to trickle out and down my leg. Damn! I was covered. I glanced over at Chris who was sitting eyes wide open, in awe. I had just blown a tremendous load in front of my friend, during a lecture, in a darkened lecture hall. I glanced around to see if anyone else had seen or noticed. Luckily for me the film was loud enough to cover my breathing, or someone would've surely noticed. I silently slipped my gooey cock back into my shorts, defeated and resigned to walking across campus with several noticeable stains on my t-shirt and shorts. The film scrolled to an end, the professor stood up announced the reading assignment, and the class broke. I quickly stood up and turned away from anyone who might look my way. Chris was still seated. "Come on, dude." Chris shook his head. "I gotta wait a few moments," he said. "That was an awesome shot." I looked at Chris's crotch and saw the bulge still very visible. "Hold your books in front of it, or something. Someone is gonna notice what I just did." Chris smiled. "That was priceless, man. I swear that first shot flew like three rows." I looked down the rows of desks, and saw, to my horror, my cum lying on the corner of the desk two rows in front of me. "Man, let's go now." Chris finally was able to stand, and adjusted himself, since he won the bet. His bulge wasn't as noticeable, but I looked like I had been in a water fight. We made our way out of the building, and across the lawn to the main road. Chris stopped me. "Man, that's drying on you in some places. This is just too good." "Wait until I dare you something," I said. As I sat in my office remembering that college day, I realized how bored I was going to be on the conference call with the client in Singapore. Jeff, my assistant, knew what I was feeling. We had both been there on the boring end of several conference calls with this particular client. The speakerphone was silent as the client had us on hold. We played tic tac toe, and scribbled little doodles on the note pads in front of us. Finally the client came back on the line. "Gentlemen, forgive the interruption. I promise no more. Now let me tell you what I think of this project." Jeff and I exchanged glances. He began taking notes, or so I thought. He tapped the note pad in front of me and I read it. "I dare you to pull you fly down, take your cock out and play with yourself while Mr. Nasagki rambles on," he had written. I smiled and looked across my office at the closed and locked door. Leaning back from my desk I tugged down the zipper of my light blue slacks and reached into my pants. Retracting my hand, I pulled my limp cock out of the fly into view for Jeff. While I slowly stroked myself to the beginnings of an erection with one hand I wrote out a challenge to Jeff with the other. "I dare you to do the same," was all I jotted down on the note pad. Jeff leaned back and unzipped his own slacks, pulling his beefy cock from its confines. We both sat listening to the client drone on about the project, and what changes he wanted for it, while watching each other stroke his own cock. I hastily wrote out a couple more lines. "First guy to cum loses. He has to give the winner a handjob after this call is over." My note said. Jeff nodded. We both sat stroking ourselves for our own pleasure, and for our mutual pleasure as we watched each other demonstrate our masturbation styles. Jeff squeezed his shaft and stroked it roughly, on the upward strokes and softly and slowly on the downward strokes. His fingers played with his crown head and he rubbed his index finger across his piss slit first back to front, then side to side. I put on as good of a show as I was getting, rubbing my thumb over my tip, and twisting my wrist to give my shaft a feeling of gyrating. The client droned on, and on, and finally, when I thought he was going to finish, he started on to what new copy he had in mind, instead of the boring old slogan his company had used since before he was born. My eyes locked with Jeff's and I could see him beginning to squirm. It wasn't much longer and I saw him buck in his chair, his hips thrust upward and cum shoot out over the desk. I watched as a second and third stream shot out of his dick and landed on the desk, on the notes, on his slacks. Another spurt landed on his fist and then a few more dribbled out and covered his crotch. Jeff reached into the desk drawer and retrieved a hand towel. He began cleaning himself up as best he could, while I just sat back and watched. He hadn't put his cock back in his pants, and I hadn't bothered to put mine away either. I just sat there with my stiff cock sticking up out of my fly and watching Jeff finish cleaning up his mess. Finally the client shut up, asked us if we had any questions, and then hung up. I let out a low whistle and laughed. "Man that was hot. Watching you blow your load on the desk that way and all over your slacks got me hot." "You weren't just hot because you were sitting in your office jerking off while talking to a client?" Jeff asked. "Well, that may have had something to do with it, but watching you right next to me stroking away was an added bonus," I said. "Speaking of which, you lost the bet." Jeff looked into my eyes. "I guess you want me to pay up right this minute, don't you?" There was a flicker of devilment in his eyes. "Yeah," I said. "And I want you to leave your cock hanging out just like it is until you get me off." Jeff reached forward and wrapped his fist around my cock. "I was watching how you stroke yourself," he said. "You like it like this, don't you?" He asked as he slowly twisted his wrist and pumped my cock. "Yeah," I moaned. "That's it. Stroke it. Oh yeah. Squeeze it a little." I felt his grip tighten slightly. His fist pumped me, as if he were milking me, stroking my shaft and rubbing his thumb over my tip. He roughly wrestled his thumb across my piss slit the way I had seen him do with his index finger to himself a short time earlier. The back to front motion sent shivered down my shaft, and the side-to-side motion made me feel as if my cock were hollow. "Oh yeah, man. Do that again," I groaned. Chris flickered his thumb against the tip of my cock, and then roughly pinched my tip between his thumb and forefinger. His fist squeezed my shaft and I felt the tingling in my balls warning me I was close to cumming. "Man, I'm gonna blow," I said in a heavy breath. That was all I could say before I felt his fist tightening and loosening, as it flew faster and faster up and down on my shaft. I was so close, when I felt his finger brush across my tip again and couldn't hold back. My cock pulsed and my cum shot out all over Jeff's hand. "Yes! Oh yes! Stroke me," I moaned loudly. Jeff's hand went faster and he squeezed more, twisting his wrist as he did so, causing me to squirm with pleasure and shoot three more ribbons of cum out and all over Jeff's hand, and my lap. He kept stroking me until my cock fell limp. "Oh man! That was intense." I said, taking a deep breath. Jeff was busy cleaning up the mess he brought me to, with the same towel still damp from his own cum. "Man, this has been the best conference call I've ever been on." End Chapter 6 If you like what you read here you may send feedback to mnhowler@aol.com or docswain@aol.com You may also check out my slash fiction at: