How Way Leads On To Way

[SutterKane]

Ky, I suggested to my wife that she might like your story. Boy, did she! She spent the day reading it Thur. She really likes it and thinks you're a good writer and storyteller. I've thought that for a couple of years now. Looks like other do to.
Sutter

[Ky_Da]

Ky, I suggested to my wife that she might like your story. Boy, did she! She spent the day reading it Thur. She really likes it and thinks you're a good writer and storyteller. I've thought that for a couple of years now. Looks like other do to.
Sutter

That’s great! thank her for reading along.

[Ky_Da]

Quinton,

One of my favorite things in life is when I wake up and look at the clock and see that it’s like two in the morning and that I still have a few hours to sleep, but that didn’t happen this morning. I looked at the clock and it was way past time to go to work, and even though I had planned on calling is sick, I had wanted to do that as my boss would have been coming into the office, not two hours late, giving him two hours to wonder where in the hell I was.

I sent my supervisor an email telling him that I was ill and had overslept. It wasn’t ideal, but I’d had a perfect track record up to now, so it should be fine. Setting my phone down, I turned to my side and cuddled up behind my wife’s sleeping form, slipping one had around her stomach.

“No funny business Mr.,” she growled at me, her voice heavy with sleep. “too bloody sore and tired.”

Sex wasn’t on my mind; I was just happy to have her back.

After about an hour, and feeling restless, I got up and went to work on my new side project. The first step was to finish our business plan. We had put a lot of work into it thus far, and it was shaping up, but we still had a long way to go until it was complete. It was tempting to accept some of the jobs that had already been offered us simply through word of mouth, but we wanted to have our foundation in place before we took that next step. Writing the business plan and working on creating something that was going to be mine also had the added benefit to help me center my focus on something that wasn’t sexual.

Several hours had passed in what felt like minutes, it wasn’t until my stomach started making too much noise that I remembered I hadn’t eaten anything. I hit the kitchen where I found my wife engrossed reading from a kindle device.

“You bought a Kindle?” I asked, surprised that she would buy one when she could have simply used her phone.

She shook her head, “It’s Garrett’s,” she said without lifting her eyes, “He gave me a couple of books on finance to read and some other prep to study while I’m at home.”

“That was magnanimous of him,” I said with a touch of bitter sarcasm.

I busied myself with making myself a ham sandwich, heavy on the mustard, no mayonnaise, salt & pepper, and lots of ham. I also took the time to make my wife a cucumber sandwich—something I find repulsive but learned to make while she was gone.

“Have a sandwich,” I said with a mouthful of my own ham sandwich. I know she hates it when I talk with my mouthful. She thinks it’s so plebian, but that just eggs me on to do it more. I love it when she reprimands me, sounding like the posh schoolteacher. The problem is that now she knows I like it, and so she tries to resist and not say anything, but she can only contain it for so long before she blows her stack and gives me an earful.

“Eww,” she said, completely repulsed, “I’m not eating that thing you call…” she stopped when her eyes saw the sandwich I placed on a plate before her. “Is this,” she picked up the top piece of bread and her eyes widened like saucers when recognition hit, “Is this cucumber?”

“Yep, and it’s disgusting I’m sure,” I said, taking another bite of my own sandwich.

Samantha picked it up gingerly and inspected it for a long few seconds before taking a small bite. I saw her nod in appreciation and then take a larger bite. It made me feel good when she closed her eyes and sighed, a small moaning sound escaping her closed lips.

“It’s lovely,” she said, a wide smile pulling at her lips, “really brilliant. When did you learn to make it?”

“While you were away. We had some cucumber that was going to go bad, so I watched Mary Berry YouTube videos on how to make them.”

Samantha gave me an odd look, “How do you know who Mary Berry is?”

“Are you kidding? You’re always watching those bakeoff videos. I think I’ve seen more of her than I have of the Queen.” I said. My wife didn’t reply but looked thoughtful as she continued to eat her sandwich. Tea and cucumber sandwiches. Blah… “Hey,” I said, sitting next to her at the kitchen bar, “I got a little swept up yesterday, but wanted to ask you about something.”

Samantha set down her sandwich and turned her barstool to face me, “Of course.”

“Garrett taking my parking space, sitting in my chair, you being standoffish to me when I got home… what was that all about?” I asked.

My wife’s smile strained, and she looked slightly uncomfortable, “Was it too much?” she asked. “I wanted to tease you, but when I saw the look on your face, I was worried I might have gone too far.”

“So, that was just part of the game?” I asked.

“It was meant to be, yes,” she admitted, reaching out and placing her hand on my knee. “I should have probably warned you about that before we did it.”

I shook my head, “That wouldn’t,” I paused, trying to think of how to explain my thoughts. Sighing in frustration, I began again, “That would have ruined it.” I finally said. “It’s like when a couple decides to go to a bar, and the wife dresses up and pretends to be someone else. And when her husband comes, he hits on her, pretending she’s a stranger. While that might be mildly fun, it wouldn’t even be close to what the real thing would feel like—for either of them.”

“Like if the wife and husband actually picked up strangers?” Samantha clarified.

“Exactly, that’s what’s so messed up about this thing,” I confirmed, sighing and then running my hand through my hair, “If you tell me you’re pretending, it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Yesterday,” my wife interjected, “When you got home, how did you feel?”

I thought for a moment, recalling the feelings from the afternoon, “I was pissed off,” I admitted. “The guy who had been with my wife for three days was in my house—in my chair. And you were acting all affectionate to him but cold to me,” I explained, trying to not allow any contempt into my voice, “If felt like a big fuck you, to me.”

Samantha winced, and he smile disappeared, “I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to be that way—well, it was, and it wasn’t,” she corrected.

I laughed, “It’s fine. I know how confusing it is—hell, I can’t even explain it very well.”

“We really were only trying to make it good for you,” my wife said, increasing concern visible on her features. “Garrett suggested that I acted like I belonged to him until he left, and then I could be yours again. I… I honestly thought it would excite you.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” I said shaking my head, letting a frustrated smile pull at my mouth, “I was angry, but at the same time, I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on by something.”

An exasperated laugh escaped my wife, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she conceded.

I felt my stomach plummet when she spoke. An increasingly larger part of me didn’t want to stop or change directions. In fact, that side of me only wanted more. “Do you want to stop?”

Samantha pulled back sharply and looked at me, “No,” she said forcefully, but then looked to relax, “No, that’s not what I want. I just started working for Mr. Morgan, and I think I’m really going to like this job, yeah”

“I feel the same way,” I admitted, feeling a sense of relief. “I guess it all boils down to trust really. I have to be able to trust you completely, otherwise this will never work.”

“I agree,” she said, nodding her head, but still looking like there was more on her mind. Eventually she added, “I never want to betray your trust, but no one is perfect. There would be times when we have misunderstandings, I make a bad decision, or you might want something different in the moment.”

“We just need to do our best to communicate really well if we want this game to work,” I said, picking up my sandwich again.

Samantha looked at me with pursed lips, “Quin, this isn’t a game,” she said, looking at me directly in the eyes, “We’re not pretending like your example of the people in the bar. Garrett’s actually having sex with me, and.. and I’m already falling for him.” Sam looked away from me, breaking eye contact.

My heart felt like it was grabbed by an icy hand, “Sam,” I said, sounding like I’d just been kicked in the gut.

But before I could say anything else, my wife looked at me, those big beautiful brown eyes rolled and looked upwards to the ceiling, “Seriously Quin?” she said, voice filled with both mirth and sarcasm.

“Oh,” I exhaled, feeling the fool. “You were just fucking with me.”

“Of course I was!” she said, returning her gaze to mine, “god you can be thick sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m kind of invested in our marriage,” I said defensively. “I want you to have the freedom you need, and I do trust you, so I’ll do my best not to overreact if something comes up.”

“And I’ll try never to abuse that trust,” Samantha said.

“And I’ll try never to abuse your trust either,” I said, causing my wife to look back at me.

“Oh,” she said, picking up the other half of her cucumber sandwich and flashing me a wide smirk, “I wasn’t worried about you—no girl other than me would want Average Joe near their pussy.”

-_-

Samantha,

The days at home were nice, and it was good to have the time back with my husband. But after the highs I’d experienced in Costa Rica, everything at home felt bland and monotonous. I found myself feeling more-and-more excited as Thursday approached and I’d be able to go back to work. A couple of days after Garrett had left, a FedEx box arrived at the door. In it was the newest and latest iPhone and MacBook for me, and an older, used iPhone for my husband. They were encrypted and needed several levels of security set in order to access them, and it took me several attempts and multiple reads through the instructions before I was successful.

Once I was online, I found my workload increased, receiving assignments via email and watching numerous tutorials on the investment group’s goals and business plan. The only email I received directly from Garrett asked me for my measurements, including height, weight, and bra and shoe size. It was a lot to consume, but my husband was focused so much on his own work, spending loads of hours locked away in his office, that he didn’t seem to mind the time I was spending on work assignments. We still connected in the evenings, and life felt good.

Also included in the package was an American Express Corporate card with instructions on how to fill out expense accounts using the correct cost codes, company dress standards, and policies regarding airfare travel, per diem, and booking of hotels. It all felt very corporate and different than what I had expected. The way Garrett spoke about his business dealings, it had always felt very informal to me.

When Thursday finally arrived, my husband dropped me off at the San Diego International Airport to catch my flight. No corporate jet for me this time, I had thought when I’d read my assignment’s instructions earlier in the week. Quinton looked anxious when he dropped me off, and I could only imagine what was running through his mind. He reassured me over and over than he was fine, but I could see how much of an inner struggle this was for him. I would have to make sure he enjoyed himself Saturday night to make it up to him.

The first flight took me to Spokane Washington where I then boarded a small prop plane that took me to a small airstrip in what felt like the middle of a forest somewhere in western Montana. An old, off-road vehicle with no doors and giant tires sat off the side of the runway. I had been instructed to dress casual for this trip and to only bring one outfit, so I came wearing burnt caramel chino pants, a grey lightweight tee, and white trainers. The off-road vehicle pulled up close to the plane door and I watched as Garrett stepped down from the driver’s side. Another man was riding along in the passenger side, but I lost him as he walked around the back of the plane.

As soon as I stepped onto the ground, Garrett was there to pick my up and wrap me in a tight embrace.

“I’m excited to have you back,” he said, his smile wide under his freshly cropped beard.

I gave him a chaste kiss lightly on his lips, “I’ve been looking forward to it, Mr. Morgan,” I replied happily.

I was glad that I hadn’t dressed any nicer after seeing my boss. He wore well-worn jeans and a faded red tee shirt with a logo on the front that I didn’t recognize. Heavy, aggressive looking hiking boots covered his feet. I looked toward his vehicle, “What is that?” I asked, my nose scrunched up as I inspected the interesting ride.

“A 1975 Jeep CJ-5,” Garrett said proudly, “It’s a work in progress,” he added, guiding me to the passenger side door and helping me into the seat.

The inside was clean but worn, with seats of cracked leather and lap belts that had frayed edges. The metal body’s paint was faded and sun-bleached. I secured my own lap belt and not a moment too soon. As soon as Garrett was in his seat, he turned the Jeep around and slammed his foot down hard onto the accelerator. The Jeep lunged forward, but instead of staying on the paved road, Garrett drove it off the side where we went careening down the slope and into the middle of a narrow stream. I screamed like a tortured banshee and grabbed onto a holding strap that was secured to a large bar near my head. Water and mud splashed us as Garrett drove the Jeep even faster, turning back up the steep slope and tearing through the grass, weeds, and rocky debris until we were back onto the paved road.

My breath came in gasps and I know I looked every bit as terrified as I felt. Garrett, however, wore only a casual smile like we’d only gone for a Sunday drive through the park. I looked down at my clothes, my side by the door was half-soaked and splotched with mud.

“You smarmy git!” I snapped, finally able to convince my hand to release the strap by my head, “We almost bloody died back there—and you did it on purpose!”

Garrett laughed, “Want to do it again?” he threatened, steering the vehicle to the shoulder.

“Oh god no!” I shouted, grabbing for the strap again.

The Jeep straightened back into the lane and decelerated slightly, “Sorry—couldn’t resist,” Garrett teased, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye from laughing so hard.

“You capricious bastard!” I roared, turning in my seat and punching his arm as hard as I could, “acting like an impertinent child. You scared the shite out of me. Pull this monstrosity over and let me out.”

“As you wish milady,” he said half-mocking-half-joking.

To my surprise, the Jeep crossed the shoulder, slowed, and stopped behind several large pine trees. Sunbeams streaked through the narrow openings in the green canopy above. Garrett exited the Jeep so quickly that I wasn’t sure what to do. He came to my side and reached in and unclipped my lap belt.

“Mr. Morgan?” I said, sounding much more hesitant. “What are we…” I didn’t finish my sentence as strong arms plucked me from the seat. He then heaved me up onto his shoulder and stalked into the woods, I yelled at the abruptness of it, and then began to yell at the manhandling treatment, “Unhand me you motherfucking piece of shite. You bloody well better put me down or—Ahh!” I screamed when I felt my shoes pulled from my feet and my trousers forcefully pulled passed my bum and then off my legs, leaving only my knickers in place.”

“You have a dirty mouth for such an uppity posh-girl,” Garrett said calmly, setting me on my feet in front of a tree with a massively thick trunk.

Pinecones and needles pocked the soft flesh of my feet. With one arm still around me, Garrett used his free hand to grab the front waistband of my knickers, and with a quick and violent twist, tore them from my body. The shock of it rendered me speechless as he dropped his jeans to his knees. “Mr. Morgan,” I spoke, my voice quivered as my heart pounded, sending blood racing through my body.

“I’ve missed my high-class little cock slut,” he growled into my ear, sending waves of panic, but also of pleasure down my smaller frame. Garrett lifted me off the ground and pinned me against the rough and jagged bark of the tree. The change felt almost instantaneous this time, my carnal spirit regaining possession of my body. Wetness flooded my sex as I felt the tip of Garrett’s cock plunge past the folds of my wanting pussy.

“Ahh,” I cried in loud, wailing moans, as I was almost violently filled with Garrett’s wide member. The searing pain quickly gave way to bright burning, but even that only lasted a moment before transforming into soul-twisting ecstasy. My entire body convulsed as my orgasm constricted every muscle in my body, but even as the orgasm faded, Garrett kept up his hurried pace until I felt a second orgasm quickly building.

This was feeling beyond what I thought possible. The full, stretching feeling from Garrett’s manhood was only part of the experience I realized. My once small, nearly perfectly shaped vagina was falling to the same corrupting influence as was my soul. If this is what passion a slut could feel, then I would gladly take the role and accept the title.

I felt Garrett’s frame shake against me, his seed exploding deep within me. His sweat against my skin, his grunting voice in my ear, produced the most intense and thrilling awareness I’d ever experienced.

“Such a fucking brute,” I said softly, still desperately trying to catch my breath and clinging onto Garrett’s shoulders. Swearing wasn’t something I did often, but in the moment it felt right.

“Cheeky twat,” Garrett bantered back, also still breathing heavily.

“Boorish shit,” I spat back, biting his ear lightly and pulling it just hard enough to get a reaction.

“Ow!” he barked, trying to pull away, “Sooty bitch,” he said, his voice soft.

“Such an arse,” I said in the same tone as our lips met. The kiss soft, endearing.

After several minutes, Garrett set me down, my legs felt weak and unsure. I placed my hand against the tree and took several more, deep breaths. Bloody damn that was intense, I thought, scanning the ground for my shoes. Garrett spotted them first and retrieved them for me. I slipped them on my feet and walked to pick up my other clothes while Garrett pulled up his trousers and fastened the belt.

“Fuck you look amazing like that,” Garrett said, seeing me dressed in only a thin tee and a pair of trainers.

“You ruined my knickers,” I complained, picking up the torn cloth and then going to my trousers lying in the dirt.

“And then I ruined your cunt,” Garrett joked, watching me as I wiped his cum from my inner thighs with my ruined undergarment.

“Must you always be such a beast?” I asked, inspecting my wet and muddy trousers. “I hope we’re not going someplace nice; these are filthy.”

Garrett shook his head and nodded towards the Jeep. “Got ya covered, Sams,” he said taking my hand in his guiding us back. When we were about to leave the cover of the tree line, I hesitated. Feeling the pull of my hand, he nudged me on, “Don’t worry, nobody’s around.”

I followed him to the back of the Jeep. He swung the spare tire out of the way and opened the small back door. He then unlatched and opened a large black case. Inside were folded clothes, and it suddenly clicked why he wanted my measurements.

“We’ve got to hurry, though. Our friends are already waiting for us,” Garrett said, trying to get me to hurry along. “I’d recommend the swimsuit, shorts, tee shirt and Teva sandals.”

I found and held up the swimsuit, which was a red bikini. The top seemed to provide adequate coverage, but the high-wasted bottoms left little to imagine.

“Please,” said Garrett, looking at me hopefully, “You’ll look amazing in it I’m sure.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “but hurry, we’re really late.”

Shaking my head, I slipped the bikini bottom over my feet and pulled it into place, “Alright, yeah,” I replied, preparing the top, “Just stop the whinging.”

The bikini fit my frame well and did the most with my small breasts. It made me feel sexy, and the way Garrett watched me, it made me feel desired. Still, I felt a wash of relief as I pulled on the shorts and tee shirt. Clipping on the sandals, I was soon in the Jeep and we were speeding along the motorway once more.

For the better part of an hour, I enjoyed the wind blowing my hair and watching the scenery. Montana was a beautiful place, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of its rugged power.

Garrett suddenly winced and looked over at me like a child about to get in trouble, “Sams, I just remembered something,” he began. “I meant to call you about this, but it was a busy week and it completely slipped my mind. I need to ask a huge favor,” he said, pointing to my left hand, “We’re going to be with some old friends of mine, and it’s going to be a little hard to explain why I’m bringing a married woman with me…”

When his eyes looked down at my hand, I knew immediately what his question was going to be, and I felt a stab of anxiety. Quinton and I had meant to discuss the possibility of me removing my ring, but each day we found an excuse not to talk about it. It was a simple gold band, but it meant a lot to me. Quinton had purchased it with his meager savings, and I almost never took it off.

“…Would you be willing to remove it?” I heard him ask. “If it’s a no-go, then we can turn around and bale on the trip,” he said, and I got the feeling that he was telling the truth, but at the same time, he’d be extremely disappointed.

Inhaling deeply, I made my decision…

It took several turns and some effort, but I eventually got it off. Garrett opened the cubby box in front of me and removed a small black plastic case with a pelican logo in the corner. Handing it to me, I unclipped the latches and opened the lid. Inside were random items like a pocketknife, pen light, multitool, and even Band-Aids. I placed my ring in the box, secured the lid, and returned the case to the cubby box. I felt naked.

“Thank you,” Garrett said, giving me an I-hope-you’re-not-mad smile.

I nodded, wiggling my fingers and focusing on the feeling of my naked finger. “Okay, you’re turn, yeah,” I said, looking back at Garrett and trying to keep my hair out of my face. “Where are we going?”

Garrett removed the ball cap from his head. “This might help,” he said, handing it to me. I looked at the offensive thing like it was it was covered in lice. It was well-worn and the tattered bill was unraveled at the edge. “Just put it on,” he chuckled, “it’ll at least keep the hair out of your eyes.

With a sigh, I readjusted the band in the back and pulled it onto my head, “Fine,” I said reluctantly.

Garrett’s eyes squinted and I saw a muscle in his jaw flex, “Fuck you look sexy,” he moaned.

Suddenly the hat didn’t feel so terrible, but I wasn’t going to admit it out loud. “You still haven’t answered me,” I reminded him.

“Nope,” he said, popping the p in the word with his lips. “And I don’t intend to Miss Brooks. But I promise that you’ll love it.”

“Cheeky bastard,” I said dryly, returning my gaze to the road ahead. Several minutes passed, it was easy to relax and simply enjoy the views.

“Did you know that Noah’s from here?” Garrett asked as we drove. When I shook my head, he continued, “He’s from Missoula originally, so not far from where we are now. I got to know Noah through his son David.”

I turned to look at my boss. “I didn’t know—I mean I suppose I should have assumed Noah had children. That’s just not quite the mental picture of him I have in my mind.”

Garrett nodded; a solemn look settled on his handsome features. “He had two sons, David and Gordon. I met David in the Marine Corp,” Garrett explained, leaning back into his seat and adjusting his sunglasses. “David was something of a rebellious soul, and so when his old man told him he expected him to go to an ivy league business school, he tried to go in about as opposite of a direction as he could imagine.”

“It sounds like he accomplished his goal,” I said, hoping to hear more about Garrett’s past.

“Oh yeah, Noah was pissed. Of course, I didn’t know about any of that at the time.”

“Why did you join the military?” I asked.

Garrett tilted his head slightly, “You know, if I’m completely honest with myself. I basically did it to see if I could,” he said, his candid tone impressed me. “Growing up in Hawaii, I surfed a lot, skipped school a lot, smoked a lot of weed. My parents died when I was thirteen, and so I lived mostly with my grandmother—she was Polynesian—lived her whole life in Hawaii—,”

“Were your parents Polynesian?” I asked unsurely. While Garret’s skin had a solid tan, and his hair was on the darker side, I hadn’t thought of him a Poly.

“No, even my grandpa wasn’t. He was from Texas. So that accounts for my grandparents on my mom’s side. My dad was from Colorado, but I never knew that side of the family… never met those grandparents,” Garrett said, casually explaining the details. “But anyway, with not much of a future in Hawaii, I decided I wanted some adventure, and so I joined up, and I met David at my first duty station. We became fast friends and got into all kinds of shit together, and I mean all kinds of shit.” Garrett laughed, his face set like he was remembering memorable times. “David was killed when a marine fucked up while we were driving a convoy. Our truck flipped and somehow I survived while David was killed.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said without thinking. I hadn’t expected the conversation to take such a drastic turn.

Garrett waved his hand dismissively, “It was a long time ago, Sams. Old memories. Actually, Gordon’s going to be with us today. He’s David’s younger brother. I met Noah and Gordon at David’s funeral, and that’s when the rest is history. Noah knew me and his son were close friends, so he basically took me in and helped me get a start in business once I finished my contract with the Corp. I know he’s disappointed that I basically stepped back a few years ago, but I think he’s finally forgiven me.”

“Whoa,” I exclaimed, “I had no idea—I’ve only known Noah as—,”

“—As the sex party guy?” Garrett completed my sentence, chuckling as he did. “Yeah, he’s always had that side to him, but he’s definitely gotten more into it lately it seems.”

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover I guess,” I said, then asked, “What does Gordon do? Is he married?”

Garrett’s smile slipped a little, “He’s been married a few times, but it’s always ended in disaster—usually his fault. The man’s been incredibly successful in making money though. Noah’s an extremely wealthy man, but Gordon eclipsed him a long time ago. I have no idea what he’s worth, but he ranks right up there with the wealthiest elite.”

“Are you friends?” I asked, feeling like I picked up on something unsaid.

“We try to be, but we don’t have a lot in common,” Garrett said, shifting in his seat, “The other people you’ll meet today are some of my oldest friends—they’re the greatest people you’ll ever meet,” he continued, seeming to change the subject, “I first came up here about twenty years ago on a hunting trip, and just fell in love with the place. So, I bought some property, built a cabin, and the rest is history. I met these guys when I was building the cabin, and we’ve tried to get together once a year ever since—kind of a friend-reunion of sorts.”

“So, we’re meeting up with your mates?” I asked, not sure how to ask what was really on my mind.

Garrett nodded, glancing at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road, “But don’t worry, they’ll be bringing their wives—you won’t be the only female in the group,” he said, answering my unasked question. “It started out as a guys-only-weekend, but over the years they’ve all gotten married, so the annual bachelor party ended a long time ago.”

“You sound bitter about that,” I teased.

Garrett shook his head and laughed, “Not at all. We drink way less with the wives there—I don’t miss the post party hangover. It was getting out of hand… Oh,” Garrett straightened in his seat, “that reminds me. One more favor please—while we’re with these friends, please just call me Garrett. The whole Mr. Morgan thing would be a little hard to explain.”

Feeling emboldened, I gave my boss a feral grin, “Garrett simply feels so… common. Maybe Master, Sir, or even Daddy?” I said as, doing my best to sound like a seductive porn star.

I watched Garrett’s expression become almost pained as a moment later he readjusted the crotch area of his jeans, “Don’t make me pull over and fuck you against another tree you.”

“Promises, promises,” I said, feigning a yawn.

“Bitch,” Garrett said, shaking his head.

“Bastard,” I threw back, drawing a snort-ish chuckle from my boss.

Minutes later we pulled off the road again and drove down narrow switchbacks until I thought I was going to be sick. Reaching the bottom, a roaring river opened up before me.

“Oh my god,” I exclaimed, seeing the frothy whitewater as it churned around large rocks and hidden boulders.

“Oh,” laughed Garrett, “this is going to be fun,” he said, pulling the Jeep next to the other vehicles.

I looked towards the raging water to where at least a dozen people were milling about four, large, brightly colored boats. “Please tell me you’re joking,” I gasped, almost unable to speak. The roaring of the water as it rushed by was almost deafening to my ears.

“Welcome to the middle fork of the Flathead River,” Garrett hollered, looking way too pleased with himself.

Before I could protest, we were immediately mobbed by Garrett’s friends. The cacophony of voices mixed with the already thunderous noise from the river was overwhelming to the senses. Plus, all Garrett’s friends were all huggers, each introducing themselves to me and giving me a hug like I was a long-lost family member.

A tall woman in her early forties with dark red hair put her arm around me protectively and turned to the others, “Y’all need give this poor girl some space,” she admonished as Garrett approached. Turning to me, she said, “Ya have to forgive us darlin, this is the first time Garrett’s brought a girlfriend with him.”

“And you wonder why,” Garrett laughed, shaking hands and giving bro-hugs to the guys.

“I’m Jennifer,” the tall woman introduced herself, and then said, “please be patient with this lot, they’re actually very nice people.

“I’m Samantha,” I said, watching Garrett interact with the group. I couldn’t help but smile at the way the they interacted because they all seemed very fond of one another. Most had told me their name, but at the moment I could barely remember my own.

“So nice to meet you,” she gushed and then looked at Garrett, “I’ll get her ready while you change,” she said, not really looking for his permission as much as his acquiescence.

Garrett game me a slight shrug of his shoulders in a what-can-I-do gesture, and I was led off through the group to the back of a massive truck. Jennifer held up several life vest to me until she was satisfied with the fit. Next came a helmet and finally a paddle.

“Lose the top, Brit,” she said, giving me a nickname that would stick with me the rest of the day. “Come on now,” she chided, “don’t be shy. It’s going to be hot on the river today.”

Reluctantly, I took off my tee shirt, feeling slightly self-conscious. Almost all the women were wearing swim costumes, so it wasn’t like I was being immodest. Without warning, Jennifer coated squirted a thick glob of sun block onto my shoulders and then rubbed it in across my back and arms. Handing me the tube, she said, “Get your front, nobody likes burnt boobies.”

It felt like I was caught in a whirlwind as everyone was preparing to raft the river. People giving me instructions on what to do if I fall out of the boat, what to do if the boat flips over, how to paddle, and on and on and on. Even as Jennifer walked me to our boat, someone named Brent stopped me long enough to shove cans of beer into the pockets of my life vest. The jovial mood was contagious, and I wanted to feel as lively and happy as everyone around me, but sheer terror gripped me every time I looked toward the water.

I finally found Garrett waiting for us at one of the rafts. I think he must have seen the look of total panic on my face because he walked me away from the boat and took a knee so I could more easily see him in the face. He wore only a pair of dark grey shorts, leaving his well-defined abs and chest visible to my eyes and imagination.

“You alright?” he asked, true concern in his voice. “Or is this a little too much for you?”

I’m not sure why, but the question suddenly irked me, “It’ll be fine,” I said, steeling myself for what lie ahead.

“I know it looks intimidating, but trust me, it’ll be a lot of fun. Everyone here is extremely experienced. We’ve been doing this run for years, and we’ve never had so much as a near-miss,” Garrett said, his words assuring.

Going against every nerve in my body that screamed for me to run away, I forced myself to our assigned boat. The blue rubber glistened in the sun. Following their direction, I climbed into the boat and held on as they pushed it into the water and then climbed in themselves.

There was no time to practice or to warm up because the rapids started almost immediately. In only seconds I was drenched with freezing cold water and felt like I was being sucked into the center of the earth. I’ve never screamed for so loud or for so long. I lost track of time, but eventually we did find some flat water and I was able to relax and enjoy the warm sun touching my skin. I was still shaking like I was starkers in a snowstorm, but the sun felt wonderful.

Garrett was our main rower, sitting on a bench that spanned the width of the boat, he had two long oars that were mounted to the sides of the raft, giving him leverage to move us easily from one side of the river to the other, so I didn’t quite understand why the rest of us had to paddle. But I enjoyed the view, watching him whenever I had the courage to look away from the certain death that seemed to always be in front of us. My body felt numb from the cold of the snow melt fed river, but wicked thoughts of Garrett’s sperm still inside me made me smile, as did being called his girlfriend. The commotion was too great when they’d first arrived, so there was no chance to correct anyone who called her Garrett’s girlfriend, and now it felt awkward to do so.

Jennifer pulled one of the beer cans from my vest pocket, opened it, and handed it to me. I joined them in toasting a fun day on the water. I swallowed a small amount, hoping to blend in with the rest of our crew. Brandon, Jennifer’s husband, and Garrett spent most of the time talking about current events, politics, and their favorite football teams.

“Not a beer drinker, Brit?” Jennifer asked, after seeing that I was still holding most of a full can and everyone else was drinking their second.

Shaking my head, I gave her a face that made it clear that beer was not my drink of choice. Garrett quickly snatched the can and downed its contents.

“So, how long’s this been goin’ on?” Julie asked, looking at us expectedly as she pointed her finger at Garrett and then at me.

“Our first date was over a year ago,” Garrett said before I’d even begun to process the question. “But she made me wait almost a year before she’d go out with me again.” He gave me a smile and quick wink of the eye, but I wasn’t entirely sure what game he was playing at yet.

“Playing hard to get?” she said, wagging her eyebrow and giving me a look that said she approved. “I’ve always wondered what kind of girl might finally tie this man down,” Jennifer continued, “I had no idea she’d come from clear across the pond, though.”

“I have duel citizenship, actually,” I said before Garrett could speak for me. “I’ve lived in the States for a few years now.”

“Oh,” Jennifer said, looking slightly crestfallen, “that’s not going to be as much fun then. I always love to get people’s first impressions of what they think of America… but you’ve already been here too long—probably already picked up all our bad habits.”

“A few,” quipped Garrett, “but she’s still a Brit through and through. Loves her tea, crisps, biscuits, and even beans and toast for breakfast.”

“Beans and toast in the morning?” Brandon suddenly interjected. “That’s disgus… very interesting,” he said after his wife had given him the death glare.

Their interaction made me laugh, but my laugh quickly turned into another horrifying scream when we plummeted down what felt like the worlds’ largest waterfall. For a moment, I knew I was completely underwater. And in that moment, I panicked and committed the worst error possible. I let go of the rope on the raft, instinctively feeling the need to swim upwards. I felt the boat slid out from under me and I knew instantly that I was now being swept down the river on my own.

Before I could get my feet in front of me, I felt myself thrown against something hard and unmoving. The impact forced every molecule of air from my lungs and replaced it with crushing dread. My mind screamed at me to breath, and it took every ounce of strength in me to push away the fear and fight to swim to the surface. But even when I did find the surface, it was only for a microsecond before an unseen power under the water pulled me back down.

With lungs burning, I fought even hard, kicking my legs and lasing my arms forward, trying to crawl away from whatever force held me in place. Suddenly something pulled at my hair, and then a hand caught me around my forearm as I was pulled savagely out of the dark water’s clutches. Arms wrapped themselves tightly around my chest. I coughed, sputtered, gagged, and even vomited as the sweetest tasting air filled my lungs again.

“Fuck I thought I lost you,” a deep, raspy voice sounded by my ear, “I got ya Sams, I gotcha…” the voice reassured.

I don’t know how long it took before my brain made the connection in my head and I realized it was Garrett that had me in his arms. I focused on breathing, my body sporadically convulsing with coughing fits. He must have eventually managed to get to the side of the river, because the next thing I realized was him carrying me as he walked down the shoreline. I felt his heartbeat against my skin.

“Let me look at her,” a female voice called out nearby. I felt Garrett set me down on a large boulder, the warmth of the stone felt miraculous and I wanted to drape myself over its surface. A woman’s face swam before my eyes, and I had to blink repeatedly for things to come into focus.

“Hey Sam, Alice is a doctor. She’s going to look at you, alright?” I heard Garrett say next to me.

I don’t remember nodding, but Alice went to work, looking into my eyes and then my ears, asking me what day and year it was. I answered her questions, feeling a little more like myself as the minutes passed.

I twisted to look at my back, “It hurts,” I choked out, trying to look at my back, it felt sore and hurt at the slightest movement.

“I bet,” Alice said, seeing what I could not. “You’re going to have a nice bruise, hon,” she told me, and then turned her attention to Garrett, “I’m not seeing anything critical, but we need to play it safe. Let’s go to my office so I can be more thorough.”

-_-

Luckily nothing was broken, or too badly damaged. I was going to be sore, and I would have some bruising on my back, but as the hours ticked by, I felt better and better. The main group went to Garrett’s cabin, while Alice, Garrett and I went the clinic and then ate a late lunch. Alice watched me like a hawk the entire time, making sure that I wasn’t suffering any aftereffects. Alice had insisted on us taking her car since it was a much more ‘sensible’ vehicle than the Jeep, so the three of us drove out to the cabin together.

Passing through a heavy timber gate, we crested a hill and a massive building came into view. “That’s a cabin?” I asked, my eyes wide in disbelief.

“Ha,” Alice scoffed teasingly, “only to Garrett.”

We entered through the side of the building, passing through a commercial level kitchen and into the main hall. I stopped as soon as I passed through the door to try to take it all in. The sense of scale was difficult to comprehend. The ceiling felt fifty feet high, and the room as at least a hundred feet long. Two mammoth sized fireplaces bookended each side—mammoth not meant as hyperbole—a literal mammoth could have fit in each one of the firebox openings. The mantels were made of stone and must have taken some effort to place.

Following Garrett to one of the fireplaces, he got me a chair and had me sit in front of the fire. An enormous bear rugs covered the floor in front of the hearth. Sitting in front of the fire was such a pleasant experience that I decided to table my complaints about the bear rugs and numerous animal heads mounted to the walls. The far wall was almost pure glass. Two wide doors opened onto a wide deck that gave way to a breathtaking view, the last of the sun was disappearing beyond the horizon, triggering the exterior lights to flicker to life.

I was about to make my way to the food table when Garrett came back with another man close in tow, “Samantha, this is Gordon Braxton,” he said, gesturing towards a man I’d seen a few times throughout the day.

“Yes, we met briefly this morning,” I said, shaking Gordon’s hand. He was shorter than Garrett, but still much taller than me. He had dirty blonde hair that was well styled, and well pronounced cheekbones. But his jawline was soft, transitioning quickly into his neck, giving him an odd out of proportioned look.

“Samantha,” Gordon said, inclining his head, “I’m so relieved you look as well as you do. You gave us something of a scare today,” he said in perfectly dictated tones. This man was well-educated and wanted people to know it.

“I scared myself,” I said, laughing lightly.

“Yes, of course,” Gordon replied automatically. He glanced quickly at his watch, and then toward the doorway to the kitchen. “I’m very sorry, Garrett, Samantha, but I think I’m going to excuse myself early tonight. I have an early morning flight to Denmark tomorrow.”

“Gordon,” Garrett said the man turned to go. “Oh, if you see Aksel, make sure to tell him what we talked about please.”

Gordon nodded, “I’ll be sure to mention it to him,” he said. He made to turn again to leave but suddenly paused, “And to you. Please think about my proposal.”

This time Garrett nodded, “I will,” he said, putting his arm around me gently pulling me to the door. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

I followed Garrett out onto the patio where he picked up a heavy blanket from a table. We walked down several steps until we were far enough away from the others to feel a sense of privacy, arriving at a comfortable looking lounge chair with thick, plush cushions. Garrett laid down first, pulling my hand gently until I laid cuddled up next to him. He pulled the heavy blanket over us and I felt him relax under me, letting out a heavy sigh as if he’d been carrying around the weight of the world all day.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Samantha?” he asked me for the hundredth time and using my full name. Samantha always feels very formal and distant to me, but I felt a wave of close intimacy when he said it.

I placed my hand against his warm chest, curling myself into him, “Yes, I’m fine now. Just a bit of a scare.”

“A bit?” Garrett said incredulously. “I haven’t been that scared in a long, long time. You just disappeared for the longest time.”

“It was fun until the waterfall,” I said, feeling a chill go through me remembering the experience. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Us,” I simply stated, “I’m apparently your girlfriend, you know.”

Garrett chuckled under me, “Yeah, sorry about that. I meant to tell them that we were still just getting to know each other, but there was so much going on when we arrived that I kind of got lost in the hustle, and then it was just easier to go along—I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

I shook my head against his chest, “It doesn’t… I kind of liked it,” I confessed softly, feeling my heartbeat quicken.

“Will you be?” Garrett asked bluntly only a second later, causing my heart to cease beating completely.

I sat up enough to see him clearly, “Garret, are you serious?”

Looking me in the eye, he nodded, “Completely.”

“But I’m married,” I said, not entirely sure how to even begin the argument.

“Yeah, so? It’s not mutually exclusive is it? Can’t you be a wife and a girlfriend? We’re all different things to different people,” Garrett said, reaching up and running his course thumb over my cheek.

“I suppose,” I conceded, “But I thought you wanted an employee-with-benefits kind of relationship.”

“I did, and if that’s all you’ll give me, then I won’t bother you for more… but if you’re open to it…” Garrett said in a voice that sent shivers through me, and only stating half the question.

“Smarmy git,” I said, rolling my eyes and lying back on his chest. “Wouldn’t that make life very complicated?”

“Probably, but it’s worth the complication if it means I can keep fucking you,” Garrett deadpanned.

“Pervert,” I replied, poking him with my finger.

“Slut,” Garrett said with a sigh, squeezing me tightly around my shoulders.

“Arse-licker,” I quipped, making him laugh.

“Here, let’s do something about your damp clothes,” Garrett said, pushing me to sit up slightly. I was about to ask what he had in mind when I felt him pulling my shirt up to my shoulders.

“Garrett,” I protested, “people will see.”

“Yeah, like me,” he said, continuing to remove not only my shirt but my bikini top. I gripped the blanket around myself as he tossed my tops to the ground well out of reach.

“Are you mental, I’ll be starkers?” I said, struggling unsuccessfully to push his hands before he could remove my shorts and costume bottom. Those garments quickly joined the first small pile.

“That’s better,” Garrett said, pulling my naked body in close and spreading the blanket over both of our bodies. His hands came up and covered my tits, his thumb and forefingers squeezing my nipples just hard enough to draw out a moan. “You have the most amazing nipples.”

“They’re just normal nipples,” I said, trying to push his hands away, but without much effort.

“Are you kidding me? They’re enormous, and so sensitive. I bet I could get you to orgasm just by touching your nipples.”

“Maybe,” I said, my voice betraying my feelings with its breathy tone.

All my objection drifted away as the sensations in my nipples bloomed, my hand sought out the rise in his jeans wanting to touch his cock. I felt Garrett shift under me, and a moment later I realized why.

Holding up his phone I could see our images in the screen, “Better not forget to tease your husband,” he said, taking the photo.

I felt embarrassed to my core, seeing myself on the small screen. Garret’s forearm resting under my breasts, my skin flushed even in the dim patio lights. It was obvious I was enjoying myself.

Garrett didn’t hit send right away but he turned his body away to block the phone from my view, “What are you writing?” I asked, pulling at his arm to try and see.

“Nothing, dear,” he said, keeping me at bay.

“Dear?” I snorted derisively, “You sound like my dad—you dirty old man.” I tried for the phone, but his long arm easily kept it from my grasp, the blanket slipped from my form.

“I’m not old—”

“—I see someone’s feeling better,” I familiar voice sounded next to us.”

-_-

Quinton,

I knew I had been sitting at the desk for a while, but when I stood and every muscle felt like it was locked up, I decided I needed to start a routine to break up the long hours of sitting. Between my full-time job and the side hustle I was trying to create, I was sitting at a desk for well over twelve hours a day. That wasn’t good for anyone.

Seeing that I missed a text on the phone Garrett had sent to me, I picked it up and entered my username and password. I was sure the prick had picked out the older phone on purpose so that I’d have to manually enter my info each time I wanted to use it. I was hopeful I’d hear from my wife, but I was trying not to let my hopes get up, not wanting to feel let down when I didn’t see anything. And, my side job had been keeping me so focused, I hadn’t had time to let my mind think about her. But when I finally opened the phone, and then the picture that was text to me, my mind was suddenly laser beam focused on her.

In the photo my wife was lying naked on top of Garrett, who was only wearing a pair of loose-fitting khaki colored pants. Samantha’s face was the embodiment of lust, her heavy-lidded eyes and flush face radiated her desire. It was obviously Garrett that had taken the picture because Samantha looked like she hardly noticed him taking it. Garrett had also edited the photo before sending, hand drawing a ring on each of her nipples and writing the question; What do you think Quin, should we get her pierced?”

[DbdChap]

Ky, I suggested to my wife that she might like your story. Boy, did she! She spent the day reading it Thur. She really likes it and thinks you're a good writer and storyteller. I've thought that for a couple of years now. Looks like other do to.
Sutter

My wife is the same. I cut and paste your stories and email to her so she can read when she has time (usually in the bath!!). Just noticed a new installment, we’re both very exited!! Thanks for sharing

[sabya167]

"I felt naked." One of the best lines I ever read. I hope you have enough time to write, because you are clearly not only as good as any but way better than most and this one seems to be a Classic. Full marks on spacing. You bring so much to the table, include so much detailed description of events and surroundings, it makes for a total package. A joy to read. Bloody damn BRILLIANT.

[DbdChap]

"I felt naked." One of the best lines I ever read. I hope you have enough time to write, because you are clearly not only as good as any but way better than most and this one seems to be a Classic. Full marks on spacing. You bring so much to the table, include so much detailed description of events and surroundings, it makes for a total package. A joy to read. Bloody damn BRILLIANT.

Totally agree, well said

[Suchen Zucker]

I've started copying and pasting them into a PDF book format to read on my Kindle Reader.

One thing I'd like to suggest Ky is that you begin to use Chapter numbers now before you get even deeper into the story. Who knows where this is headed and you (and your readers) will appreciate the usefulness of Chapter numbers if it gets lengthy (as we all hope it will).

Do you want us to point out any spelling or other errors for you to correct or would you rather not be bothered with it?

I'm really enjoying the story. Thanks again!

-Suchen

[sabya167]

"I felt naked." One of the best lines I ever read. I hope you have enough time to write, because you are clearly not only as good as any but way better than most and this one seems to be a Classic. Full marks on spacing. You bring so much to the table, include so much detailed description of events and surroundings, it makes for a total package. A joy to read. Bloody damn BRILLIANT.

Totally agree, well said

[Ky_Da]

Ky, I suggested to my wife that she might like your story. Boy, did she! She spent the day reading it Thur. She really likes it and thinks you're a good writer and storyteller. I've thought that for a couple of years now. Looks like other do to.
Sutter

My wife is the same. I cut and paste your stories and email to her so she can read when she has time (usually in the bath!!). Just noticed a new installment, we’re both very exited!! Thanks for sharing

Damn!!! Does she really? I’ll have to step it up a notch.

Thanks for reading and for commenting.

[Ky_Da]

"I felt naked." One of the best lines I ever read. I hope you have enough time to write, because you are clearly not only as good as any but way better than most and this one seems to be a Classic. Full marks on spacing. You bring so much to the table, include so much detailed description of events and surroundings, it makes for a total package. A joy to read. Bloody damn BRILLIANT.

Totally agree, well said

Thanks for the feedback. I was a little surprised that that the “I feel naked” line connected with anyone. It’s interesting to see what connects and what doesn’t. Thanks for taking the time to comment.

[Ky_Da]

I've started copying and pasting them into a PDF book format to read on my Kindle Reader.

One thing I'd like to suggest Ky is that you begin to use Chapter numbers now before you get even deeper into the story. Who knows where this is headed and you (and your readers) will appreciate the usefulness of Chapter numbers if it gets lengthy (as we all hope it will).

Do you want us to point out any spelling or other errors for you to correct or would you rather not be bothered with it?

I'm really enjoying the story. Thanks again!

-Suchen

You bring up some good points. I probably should start showing chapter numbers, and I know I could do better at policing/editing. I just want to tell the story and spend time writing it. I HATE going back to proofread, but i really do need to take more time to do that. I personally hate reading a story with a thousand errors in it because it pulls you out of the story. Please send me a PM with any corrections you’ve got. Thanks, Ky

[DbdChap]

Ky, I suggested to my wife that she might like your story. Boy, did she! She spent the day reading it Thur. She really likes it and thinks you're a good writer and storyteller. I've thought that for a couple of years now. Looks like other do to.
Sutter

My wife is the same. I cut and paste your stories and email to her so she can read when she has time (usually in the bath!!). Just noticed a new installment, we’re both very exited!! Thanks for sharing

Damn!!! Does she really? I’ll have to step it up a notch.

Thanks for reading and for commenting.

I’m off to get the bath ready

[couple20uk]

Hi Ky, I noticed your story a week or so ago mainly due to the amount of pages posted and then the positive comments. Unfortunately the story title did not draw me in. Though I understand from the comments where you got it from. Just a bit too highfaluting for me to understand and maybe a simpler title would help get more first time readers like me. Just a suggestion.

I mention the above because what I read so far (I at their first party and Quinten talking to Mike (Andrews??)) has been excellent and I looking forward to reading the rest you have written. It got all the makings of an epic story and your writing and character makeup has been fabulous. Thank you.

The only other suggestion I can make is to break the story into chapters especially if you looking to continue it for a long period. This would help if you need to refer back to something in the future. It also helps the reader not getting lost if they look to pick the story up at any point.

Thank you for writing. It an excellent, interesting and well written and I hoping to read a lot more.

[Ky_Da]

Hi Ky, I noticed your story a week or so ago mainly due to the amount of pages posted and then the positive comments. Unfortunately the story title did not draw me in. Though I understand from the comments where you got it from. Just a bit too highfaluting for me to understand and maybe a simpler title would help get more first time readers like me. Just a suggestion.

I mention the above because what I read so far (I at their first party and Quinten talking to Mike (Andrews??)) has been excellent and I looking forward to reading the rest you have written. It got all the makings of an epic story and your writing and character makeup has been fabulous. Thank you.

The only other suggestion I can make is to break the story into chapters especially if you looking to continue it for a long period. This would help if you need to refer back to something in the future. It also helps the reader not getting lost if they look to pick the story up at any point.

Thank you for writing. It an excellent, interesting and well written and I hoping to read a lot more.

Thanks for taking the time to comment. I recently got the same suggestion to break it into chapters, so I’m starting that on the next post. As for the title, I’d be worried that I’d lose just as many readers as I’d gain, and I’m already struggling to capture readers attention. I’ll try to find a better title for the next story, maybe that’ll help. Thanks.

[Jacko]

I’m already struggling to capture readers attention

I'm sorry you feel this way. I realize "listener feedback" is essential and why actors often prefer theater to TV/film performing due to the instant approval or negative reactions.

However, I think it's also possible there are few "problems" in your story so far, quality of writing, etc. Of course, for writers like Xleglover there is also a history and other story arcs that readers can draw upon for "what ifs". So far your story has less angst and a more defined plot line that allows readers to sit back and enjoy it rather than argue about what direction it make take.

In short, please don't take a lack of debate or questioning of the plot, as a lack of interested on our parts. This is an exceptional first effort! Thanks.

[Ky_Da]

I’m already struggling to capture readers attention

I'm sorry you feel this way. I realize "listener feedback" is essential and why actors often prefer theater to TV/film performing due to the instant approval or negative reactions.

However, I think it's also possible there are few "problems" in your story so far, quality of writing, etc. Of course, for writers like Xleglover there is also a history and other story arcs that readers can draw upon for "what ifs". So far your story has less angst and a more defined plot line that allows readers to sit back and enjoy it rather than argue about what direction it make take.

In short, please don't take a lack of debate or questioning of the plot, as a lack of interested on our parts. This is an exceptional first effort! Thanks.

Thanks Jacko,
Let me clarify though, I do think I haven’t resonated much with people on this story, but I’m not taking it personal. I very much appreciate those that have read and commented. This has been an interesting learning to say the least. And I agree with your comment about Xlegs stories. It’s truly amazing how much he’s written over the years. It just takes time.

But I haven’t been writing at al these last few days, I’ve just been content to be back with the family. Like really content.

[Ky_Da]

24 – Quinton

I stared at the picture of my wife in another man’s arms for a long, long time, zooming in and examining every part of her body. Her beautiful face easily communicated her hunger for sex with this man. Samantha wasn’t thinking of me when that picture was taken. She only had thoughts for her boss. That thought alone filled me with that ever more familiar sense of angst, jealousy, and blissful pleasure.

Moving my eyes over each are of the photograph, my attention snapped to her left hand and I felt my heart ache when I noticed her ring-finger was bare. She had taken off her wedding ring. The implications landed on me like concrete bridge girder. To the people she was with, they would think she was a young, single woman. They would think that she was with Garrett. My heart had never hurt so much, nor my dick more erect—so much so it hurt, like it wanted to tear through the skin. When I wrapped my hand around it, I felt a sensation electrify me. The feeling was beyond anything I’d ever felt before, stronger and more powerful even than actual sex.

Deep in my mind I knew this was a dangerous place to be, but the intensity of the feelings coursing through me pushed all rational thoughts from me. All I had to do was lightly touch myself and I’d feel an almost seizure level shudder. I only stroked myself a few times and felt before I felt the pressure building. Not wanting to cum yet, I quickly released my hand and watched as my dick throbbed and twitched of its own accord. But something was different. Normally, when I’d let go of my dick, I immediately felt the sensation to cum recede. This time, however, that wasn’t happening. The feeling only crescendoed, and I knew I’d passed the point of no return. I watched in amazement as my dick convulsed and shot a heavy rope of jiz onto the carpet; that rope was followed by another, and even another.

An intense, tingling sensation settled over me, and I leaned back in my chair feeling lightheaded and short of breath. I had just had one of the most intense orgasms of my life and wasn’t even touching myself. Five minutes passed and I realized my dick was still semi-hard. I frantically scrabbled for some lubricant, wanting the same feeling again. In all, I masturbated myself to three more orgasms, each one a little less intense than the last, and in the end, only the smallest drop of cum came out of my dick. I had exhausted myself and, having lost the high I was on from the rush of adrenaline and endorphins, came crashing down hard.

What the fuck was I doing, I thought, berating myself as I laid alone in bed. My beautiful wife was with some other guy, probably getting her brains fucked out by someone that was much better in bed than I was. Why was a letting another man fuck my wife, why had I ever encouraged her to do it. This wasn’t who I was. Some beta type that couldn’t satisfy his wife. I was a man. It was through my hard work and earnings that we had purchased this home. And now I was starting my own business, dealing with prick alpha types on a daily basis and not letting myself be pushed around… so why was I letting this happen? Why did I want this to happen?

It was during these thoughts that my phone pinged again, only this time the text came with video. A half dozen more texts popped up, each with another video. My stomach caught in my throat as I touched the phone’s screen to start the video.

“Don’t be so shy, Brit,” said a middle-aged woman with red hair. She was attractive in a plain sort of way. “We would all love to be in our early twenties again,” she said, picking up some discarded clothes from the ground.

The camera moved to my wife who was sitting on a cushioned seat, a blanket wrapped tightly around her form. “Are you recording?” she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief. Her hair was mussed, and her skin reddened as if she’d been in the sun for the day.

“It’s for posterity, Dear,” said Garrett’s distinctive voice.

Sam’s eyes rolled in derision at the comment, “Stop calling me Dear,” she said in exasperation, “Only old, lecherous men say that.” Laughter sounded from people not in the video. Garrett seemed to laugh the loudest, likely because he was the one recording.

“You just told me that your dad uses that term of endearment,” Garrett said.

“Exactly,” said Samantha, looking towards the camera, “Is that how you want me to think of you?”

Garrett’s guffaw gave his answer, “Okay, okay, you win. That’s not the mental picture I was going for. I was going for more of a, who’s-your-daddy,” he said, slapping at the air like he was spanking her ass.

“You are such a bellend sometimes,” Samantha said, shaking her head at Garrett’s antics.

“You can try to tease me, but we both know it’s my bellend you like wrapping your lips around,” Garrett said, loudly enough for the small crowd to overhear.

“Garrett!” Samantha gasped, turning a shade of red I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. Words seemed to escape her at the embarrassing comment as raucous laughter broke out. The redheaded woman sat next to her and put her arm around her shoulders.

“Stop teasing my friend,” she snapped at Garrett. “You wonder why you’re still single? Well, with comments like that, it’s no surprise,” she said in that teasing-but-not-teasing kind of way.

“You’re right,” confessed Garrett, scooting closer to my wife. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding sincere. “I was going for a laugh, and I crossed the line. I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding at all sincere.

The first video ended. Before starting the second video, I connected the phone to my computer monitor to watch it on a larger screen, and then clicked the arrow.

“—can have multiple orgasms,” a woman said, the video starting mid-sentence. She had mousy brown hair and an oval face.

I could see three other couples, all sitting in a semi-circle around a lavish firepit. They all appeared to be in their forties, and I assumed married. None of the three women I could see looked like she was wearing any makeup, in fact, they were all dressed in shorts and tee shirts, like they’d spent the day a lake. It looked like Garrett was again recording, with Samantha sitting close to him as I could only see her bare feet protruding from the bottom of a blanket in the frame of the video. Just seeing her feet made my heart ache.

“Karen,” said the redheaded woman, “I don’t think that’s true. I think any woman is capable of multiple orgasms—,”

“—No, Karen’s right,” said a statuesque looking black woman. The sides of her head were closely cropped, but her hair on top was at least four or five inches long and standing more-or-less straight up. “I enjoy sex, but I rarely have an orgasm.”

“Maybe Deacon’s not doing it right,” Garrett joked from behind the camera, earning him a deserved ‘fuck-off’ from the woman’s husband who was seated next to her.

“What do you think, Brit?” asked the redheaded woman. “Does Garrett ring your bell more than once in a night?”

As the woman appeared to be looking in Garrett’s direction, I figured the nickname Brit must have been meant for my wife. The video suddenly became unsteady for a moment from what I realized was my wife squirming next to Garrett.

The small crowd jeered and prodded until she finally responded with, “I feel like you’re all on a mission to see who can embarrass me the most,” she said, and turning toward Garrett added, “And you’re being absolutely horrid to your friends tonight.”

“Don’t worry Brit,” said the woman named Karen, “We’re used to Garrett—we all keep hoping he’ll grow out of puberty one day.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Garrett mockingly laughed, heavy in sarcasm.

“That’s true about Garrett,” agreed the redhead, “nonetheless, I’m still hoping for an answer,” she repeated undeterred.

All heads turned expectantly at my wife, and I could only imagine how red in the face she must have looked. She’s never been one to like being the center of attention, and despite her growing confidence with her own sexuality, she was still uncomfortable talking about it—specially to people she’s just met.

“…It’s been nice,” my wife finally admitted after a long moment, her voice full of nerves. “He gives me loads of orgasms,” she added in exasperation when they all kept wait for more.

“Must be nice—,” said the black woman.

“—Hey!” protested her husband, “It’s not for lack of effort,” he said, sounding a little hurt.

“This might be the greatest day of my life,” spoke up the redhead’s husband, laughing almost uncontrollably. “You’ve lauded the size of you cock over us for years—and all this time—you’re the one not getting it done in the sack.”

The group broke into laughter and bantering back and forth, it was difficult to track the conversations as they were all fighting to speak over one another. But while a lot of the jokes and comments were definitely edgy, the fact that these people had a lot of history together was more than evident as they all made jokes and laughed at each other.

“I know it’s not all about size,” Deacon finally broke through the noise. “That’s why I go down on her all the time.”

To which his wife nodded her agreement, “He does,” she stated, smiling at her husband and then back at the group. “I can’t fault him for trying, I’m just one of those difficult cases.”

The laughter died and the group sat quietly for a moment until Garrett broke the silence, “Maybe Samantha could give you some pointers,” he said, speaking to Deacon.

“Garrett,” I heard my wife whisper sharply.

“Just hear me out, dear,” he said in that tongue-in-cheek tone he used when he called her dear. “At the fear of sleeping alone tonight, I’m willing to bet my girlfriend could probably help.”

At the use of the word girlfriend, my heart flipped upside down in my chest. Fucking prick. He was recording this, and so he well knew I would be watching. That implied a lot of what he was saying was meant for me. Was he trying to get a rise out of me? Assert himself over me somehow?

“Garrett,” my wife said again, a pained agony in her voice.

“It’s alright, Sams,” he consoled, “you’re among friends.”

“Garrett’s not right about much,” said Karen, “but he’s right about that,” she said reassuringly. She then looked at each of the other women, “Jennifer, Kendis,” she prompted, finally giving me names to go with the other two women.

Both women nodded, but Jennifer spoke first, “We’d all love to get to know you better, hon. But you don’t have to talk if it makes you uncomfortable,” she said in her southern drawl.

“Jennifer’s right, of course,” said Kendis, leaning into her husband. “but I am curious,” the beautiful, dark skinned woman paused, and she pressed a finger to the corner of her mouth. “This is going to sound horrible of me, but I honestly don’t mean you any disrespect,” she hesitated again before finally asking, “Is there anything to what Garrett’s suggesting? You’re very young, so I can’t help but think you don’t have a lot of life experience—but please don’t feel pressured to talk about it if you—”

“It’s fine,” my wife finally interjected. “I’m not a fragile flower here, this is all just so beyond what I’m used to,” she said, sitting up just enough that I could see her form. The blanket still wrapped around her, leaving her shoulders bare. “I’m sure what Garrett’s referring to has something to do with an experience I shared with him—learned my lesson on that one,” she shot at Garrett with a quick glance in his direction. “Before I moved to America, I went to an all-girl’s boarding school in Gloucestershire. And well… I had a long relationship with another girl,” my wife explained with several haltered words. “She was my roommate from when I first started school all the way through sixth form, and so we felt very, well, comfortable with each other… we basically discovered our bodies through mutual experimentation.”

Samantha pulled the blanket tightly around her, pausing as if trying to think of how to explain the next part. I had a pretty good idea what she was going to say. This was one of my favorite stories of hers from her youth. It also cut me deeply that she’d already shared it with Garrett.

“I learned that while there are some important techniques, it’s the anticipation that’s key to giving a woman a good orgasm. For a woman, it’s almost all in her mind,” she explained, the other females nodding their agreement. “You have to take your time in the beginning, and slowly build that fire. You can’t simply dive in and be like, lalalala,” my wife stuck out her tongue and licked the air wildly as she made the funniest noises I’ve ever heard. I almost fell out of my chair I laughed so hard, as did the others in the group.

“That’s right, girl,” Kendis said, laughing to the point of tears, “But I’ve tried to show him, and he tries, but it’s still difficult.”

“How about a demonstration?” asked Jennifer and Karen, to which both of their husbands nodded emphatically and chimed in their agreement.

I heard my wife laugh uncomfortably, but even Garrett said, “It’s not a bad idea, Sams. Think of it as helping out their marriage by improving their love life.”

“Stop taking the piss, Garrett,” I heard my wife say under her breath for only Garrett to hear, and then a little more loudly to the group said, “I don’t think Kendis—”

“—Oh no, I’m willing if you are,” Kendis interrupted, cutting Samantha off mid-sentence, “If you could teach this husband of mine one thing to help—I’d be tremendously grateful.”

“I suppose you and me could go inside and—” my wife began to say, sounding unsure and off balance.

“—We want to see. Our husbands to learn this—” Karen and Jennifer said almost simultaneously, and the whole group began to cheer and clap with enthusiasm. “Go on Kendis, you’re going to have to take the initiative,” Karen had to holler over the noise.

Kendis’s lips pursed as if she was in serious thought as she looked first at her friends, and then toward my wife. She stood and slowly stretched her torso and neck before hooking her thumbs into her shorts and pushing them to the ground, her shirt came off just as quickly. She was remarkably beautiful, her tall and lithe figure cut a striking line. Kendis retook her seat looking as comfortable as she had with her clothes on. The others in the group began chanting, “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…”

“Oh bollocks,” I heard my wife swear quietly as the camera panned toward her. She looked up at Garrett, eyes furious but not hateful, “You put that bloody thing away!” she hissed.

“Not going to happen. Quinton’s going to love this,” Garrett said, loud enough for only her and the camera to hear.

Samantha’s eyes widened and for a moment she looked directly into the camera lens. I watched as she mouthed the words, ‘I love you,’ into the camera, and in that moment, the ship righted itself and a flood of relief came over me.

Turning to the crowd, I heard her say, “This probably won’t work with everyone watching. A woman needs to feel relaxed to have a proper orgasm.”

“Of course,” Jennifer spoke up, “This is just a demonstration, so, as long as our husbands learn a thing or two, I’m calling it a win in my book.”

Karen nodded her agreement, and the husbands were wisely keeping their mouths shut for fear that the slightest change in the wind might ruin what was about to happen, like a trying to protect a dandelion on a windy day.

“I must be mental. I can’t believe I’m actually thinking…” Samantha’s voice trailed off as she stood.

I watched with building anticipation as my wife stood and faced Kendis. My dick once again began to stir and to harden. My wife took in a deep breath and stepped towards Kendis, the blanket around her feet making her stumble. I saw Garrett’s hand reach out and pull the blanket down, easily pulling it away from Samantha’s grip, and revealing her naked body to the group.

I sat up so fast I almost threw my back out. I figured she was at least wearing a bathing suit under the blanket. I couldn’t believe that she was standing nude in front of everyone. I could tell that she was trying to conquer her nerves, I could see her blushing intensely as the group whistled, encouraged, and applauded their appreciation.

Picking up a thick cushion from one of the patio chairs, Samantha placed it at Kendis’ feet and knelt between her legs. The sight was intoxicatingly erotic, seeing my wife’s pale white skin against Kendis’ darker complexion. Samantha ran her fingers over the other woman’s vagina, gently raking her fingers through Kendis’ patch of short, black pubic hair.

“You have to start by getting the blood flowing,” my wife explained, rubbing around the vagina for several minutes. “You have to take your time, or all your effort will be a waste.” She continued gently rubbing and lightly massaging the entire general area but avoiding direct contact with Kendis’ opening. She then lightly began kissing the insides of the darker woman’s thighs, but never ceased the gentle ministrations to the outskirts of her sex.

The kissing and gentle touching went on for at least twenty minutes. I could hear a few whispers from others in the group, but all eyes were riveted on the oral demonstration. As the minutes passed, my wife slowly moved her kisses and touches closer to Kendis’ core, giving her lower lips an occasional flick with her tongue. Garrett changed the camera angle and moved closer to the action of the scene as Samantha gently kissed and then sucked the dark skin of the woman’s mons majora. Samantha was certainly taking her time, but it did appear to be working as Kendis’ breath became more labored.

“Stop teasing me,” Kendis eventually cried out, her hand reaching out to bring my wife’s face closer to her sex, only to have Samantha pull back and start the teasing over again. It went on like this for a long while, beginning a process of teasing to build up the intensity, and then backing away and letting the nerves and hormones calm. All the while, Kendis grew more and more wanton and exasperated.

Finally, after what felt an eternity, Samantha’s tongue probed her depths, drawing a heady moan from her subject. The image of my naked wife between Kendis’ thighs seared itself in my brain. I’d never seen something so erotic in my life. No porn clip or movie had ever—or would ever compare to this.

“You see, Deacon,” Samantha said, turning to the woman’s husband. Samantha’s fingers were pulling at the top of Kendis’ pussy, exposing it for all to see. “Her clit is tucked way up there under her hood… so direct stimulation is difficult.” My wife’s tongue pressed deeply towards the woman’s clit, causing Kendis to jolt as if hit by a bolt of raw energy. “But your wife’s very sensitive,” Samantha further explained. “So too much direct touching isn’t good either. You have to watch her reaction to know how much pressure and contact she wants… watch her body, listen to her breathing.”

Deacon sat stock still, like a fixed piece of furniture as my wife gave him a firsthand lesson on how to go down on a woman. I’d always known my wife had had a relationship with a girl from school, but I had no idea she could do this, I thought, watching as she returned her attention to Deacon’s wife and resumed her work.

It began slowly, but a low sounding humming sound began to come from Kendis. And over the next few minutes, the hum became a faint moan, which eventually turned into a stronger moan. I watched, glued to my seat as Kendis’ body began to shake. The woman’s eyes clamped shut, and her breathing turned to short pants. Then the dam burst.

Kendis cried out loudly as her hands weaved themselves into my wife’s hair, pulling Samantha in tightly with her hands and squeezing her thighs like a vice around her head. The camera panned back, and I could see the group sitting in awed amazement watching the display in front of them. Kendis’ orgasm went on for nearly a minute while untold pleasure rushed through her frame. Her upper body heaved upward as muscles tightened into her core. Slowly the intensity began to ebb, and the woman began to cry, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. At first it started as a whimper, but soon the cries turned to uncontrolled sobs. The woman’s husband wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly. Watching it all from my computer screen, it felt like the woman had just had a kind of spiritual awakening or something. My wife moved back and sat on her heels, wiping her face with her forearm and appearing now to feel perfectly comfortable despite being naked.

The final video ended with the group of people cheering and hooping their accolades. I slumped back in my chair and exhaled loudly. “Holy fucking shit,” I said out loud to no one in the room as the video ended and the screen went black.

-_-

Samantha,

I thought I’d experienced some brilliant orgasms in the time since being sexually active but witnessing Kendis’ orgasm was difficult to describe in words. Garrett returned my blanket, which I happily pulled around myself, but to be honest, I had all but forgotten that I was standing starkers in front of everyone. All my attention had been solely focused on finding Kendis’ orgasm. And bloody hell was it powerful—it was like she had forty plus years of pent up energy all trying to release itself in a single moment in time. Even now, several minutes later, her body would twitch or shake as her husband helped her dress.

“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Jennifer said as I sat next to Garrett near the firepit. “you’re like the pussy whisperer or something,” making Garret and the others laugh.

“Oh god, please don’t call me that,” I groaned, diverting my gaze to the ground.

Garrett knelt next to me, “You look tired,” he said into my ear. I only nodded. “Come on then, my little pussy licker,” he said, putting his arms under me and picking me up.

“Arsehole,” I said softly, feeling the day’s fatigue sapping the last of my energy.

“Hold up,” I heard Kendis call. Garrett turned, holding me without much effort. Something I know Quinton could never do for more than a few seconds. “Samantha,” she said, quickly catching us. “Thank you for that… thank you for helping me experience that.” Her sincere words were touching.

“You’re welcome,” I said, feeling happiness from her bright smile.

After a quick goodnight, Garrett carried me up a set of stairs to an upper floor and into a bedroom. The king size bed looked wonderful and all I wanted to do was crawl into it and go to sleep.

“Today certainly had it’s highs and lows,” Garrett said, setting me on the foot of the bed and giving voice to my own thoughts.

I took a moment to take in the room and was struck by how spartan it was. Much like the bedroom in Costa Rica, it had very little in the way of decoration, only containing the basic furniture one would expect to see in a room. The black case I’d seen in the Jeep earlier sat next to the bed. With very little conversation between us, I brushed my teeth and sped through my nightly routine to ready for bed.

Lying in bed, I felt Garrett snuggle in behind me, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. “How about we go to sleep, Sams. And then I’ll fuck you like the cheap prostitute you are,” he said, dropping into that evermore familiar teasing tone.

I nodded, “hmmm, you’re such a crass simpleton sometimes,” I said lazily, yawing and enjoying the softness of the high thread-count sheets.

I felt his lips near my ear and his breath tickled my neck, sending shivers down my leg when he spoke, “You were magnificent tonight. I feel like I’m witnessing quite a transformation happening to you.”

“To me?” I asked, turning towards him enough to see his form what little light was coming from under the door, “What do you mean?”

“Only that you really seem to be coming into your own. It makes me wonder who you really are—who’s the person deep inside, the person who only comes out when she thinks nobody is looking.”

The thought provoked by the comment made me want to retreat inside myself. “She’s a silly thing,” I laughed uncomfortably, trying to deflect the question. Garrett looked at me, his gaze intense and difficult to bear.

“hmmm, maybe,” he conceded, “but I know she’s very sensual, too. I think she’s extremely intelligent, has many profound thoughts about the events around her, but struggles because she has a lustful side to her, too. I think that side is coming out more easily and more often, and I think that scares you a little.”

I thought about that for a moment. He was more right than I was comfortable admitting. I tried to rebut his thought, tried to think of something sarcastic and derogatory I could deflect with, but my mind was blank. I was too tired to think anymore was my last thought as I slipped into a dreamless sleep.

[Rammerjammer69]

I am utterly captivated by the story and your writing skills!!!!

[couple20uk]

Hi Ky,

I am also enjoying your story. I particularly like the way you written Samantha's character and also Garrett character is growing on me. Though I think he has a hidden agenda. I also liked the nod to Xleglover you wrote into your story.

As for Quinton, one of the issues you will have as the story progresses is how much humiliation you will expose him to? The more humiliation he receives and the more extreme it gets, will tend lead to more negative comments and probably less enjoyment for the majority of the readers (the non cuckold). I am interested how you tackle this as feel (as a reader) it very difficult to get the balance right when writing cuckold erotica. I guess it comes down to where you want to take this story and what you looking for in the way of feedback.

Yes there are a few things in the storyline that maybe (in my humble opinion) could of been done a little better/different. But your writing is really good and I for one, look forward to reading future chapters.

Thank you for posting.

[soupcan_99]

Thanks KY another great chapter in your story. Very enjoyable.....

[sabya167]

As enjoyable as ever.....

[nnjcpl2002]

Thanks KY. A wonderful yarn delivered with great style. We are all eager for what will develop!

[nnjcpl2002]

Thanks KY. A wonderful yarn delivered with great style. We are all eager for what will develop!

[Ky_Da]

25 – Quinton,

Lying in bed, I tried in vain to go to sleep because my mind was whirring again at a thousand miles an hour. Insomnia wasn’t a new thing for me, I’d almost always have one night a week where I wouldn’t get much sleep. But usually what kept me awake was trying to solve some problem at work, trying to think of solutions to the many field problems that continued to pop up like hotspots after a forest fire. Tonight, however, was because of erotic thoughts and fantasies. Images of my wife, nude in front of a watchful crowd, going down on another woman and showing everyone her talented tongue.

I watched the videos over and over again, each time getting an erection that was harder and more sensitive than anything I’ve ever experienced before, even as a teenager when sex was almost all I thought about. Several times I barely touched my penis and watched it twitch, starting off another reaction that led to an intense orgasm. My body felt exhausted, but sleep refused to come. I couldn’t stop imagining what happened after the videos ended. Samantha was surly getting fucked. My wife… she was having sex with another man. Another man’s cock was in her married pussy. She’d only been with Garrett a handful of times, but she was likely already used to a larger cock, enjoying the better and more intense sensations that it brought.

-_-

Samantha,

My new favorite way of waking up is to Garrett’s large cock, seeking entrance to my core as I slowly awoke. This morning he had only waited for me to get wet enough to slide his cock inside of me. I thought he was kidding when he’d said he was going to fuck me like a cheap whore in the morning, but apparently that’s exactly what he wanted. The first minutes were like standing on a knife’s edge between pain and pleasure, and it was all I could do to not cry out to stop. But the burning quickly turned to the most intense and indescribably feelings.

Garrett aggressively took his pleasure, pulling my hair back and forcing my upper body to arch upwards. At one point I put my hands out, wanting to slow down the intensity. Instead, he released my hair momentarily and grabbed my hands. Putting both my hands into one of his, he grabbed my hair again and began to fuck me even harder. His ferocity frightened me, but the thrill outweighed the fear. Garrett came with a loud grunt, his body driving mine deep into the mattress, pressing his full weight on top of me.

Only a knock at the bedroom door caused him to pull back and kneel behind me. What the bloody damn hell was that? I wondered, watching Garrett open the door to allow a breakfast serving cart to be rolled in. I moved to cover myself, but the person who delivered the cart was gone before I could find the edge of the blanket.

I pulled a sheet around my body and moved to sit at the edge of the bed as Garrett rolled the cart next to me. My stomach lurched and mouth began to water at the smell of food. Garrett pulled on a pair of shorts and pulled up a chair next to me.

“Hungry?” he asked, removing the lids off the rectangular containers. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, and fresh fruit, along with several flavored syrups covered the top of the cart. Hiding my disappointment, I took a plate and spooned on some eggs and bacon. “Not a pancake fan?”

I shrugged and took a bite of the eggs. They were at least expertly prepared. “Not for breakfast, no,” I said, breaking off a piece of bacon. “It’s too sweet. I make them for Quin sometimes because he’s rubbish in the kitchen, but it’s not my favorite.”

“What do you want? I’m sure we have it in the kitchen,” Garrett said, taking a large bit of pancake dipped in maple syrup.

“This is fine for this morning,” I said, taking a quick bite of the eggs. “but maybe next time some beans on toast would be nice.”

Garrett smiled and laughed, “Beans and toast. You’re such a Brit.” I returned the smile and we ate in silence for several minutes before Garrett looked up at me, “You alright?” he asked, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

I quickly shook my head, “No, it’s fine,” I said, securing the sheet to cover my breasts, “It’s just that… this morning was a little intense.”

Garrett’s eyes widened and he sat up slightly, “I’m sorry Samantha, did I hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I guess I’m just used to a slower wakeup in the morning,” I tried to joke. “I liked it… it was just a surprise.”

Garrett nodded as he met my gaze, “I woke up about an hour before you did, and after staring at you, waiting for you to wake up, I guess I let myself get a bit too fired up,” he explained, leaning in closely toward me. “I fucking wanted you this morning.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that broke over my face, “I didn’t mind,” I decided, vowing to let him take me like that anytime he wanted. That animalistic look on his features fueled a deep fire within.

“I have to be on a few conference calls this morning that will probably take up several hours, so maybe we can—”

Another knock sounded at the door. Garrett frowned as he stood and answered. He stepped out into the hallway for several minutes, but all I could hear was muffled voices and so I finished eating my breakfast.

Garrett returned and took his seat. “How adventurous are you feeling this morning?”

I cocked my head to the side as I considered the question, “What do you have in mind?” I asked skeptically.

“That was Deacon,” Garrett said with a nod toward the door. “He and Kendis want to know if you’d like to join them in their room.”

I felt my brow raise into my hairline at the surprise request. “J-join them?” I stuttered, certain I hadn’t understood correctly.

Garrett nodded encouragingly, “Yeah, I think they’re hoping for another, lesson,” he said, framing the last word in air quotes.

“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly feeling timid and insecure, “I guess… it’s only oral sex.”

Garrett’s made a wincing-apologetic expression, “No, they’re hoping you’re up for more than that.”

I heard a small gasp escape my lips before I could stop it, “They want to have sex, with me?” I asked, realizing how stupid the question sounded as soon as I said it. “I mean—you’re okay with this?”

Garrett chuckled at my anxiousness, “Yes and of course yes,” he said easily, “But it’s up to you. Deacon is a very old friend of mine. I trust him and Kendis completely—I trust all of them like that. I don’t have a lot of close friends, but I count the people you met tonight as my closest friends. I think you made a real difference in their relationship last night.” Garrett looked at me intently for a long moment, “Look Sams, it really is up to you, but I hope you’ll consider it. They’re two rooms down the hall if you do. I’ve got to go for a few hours, so I’ll meet up with you out on the back balcony later. But sincerely, I think part of you is desperate to break free and experience more—you don’t need to restrain yourself with me. Let yourself go, let yourself feel. It’s a safe place to do so.”

Everything from my inner thighs to my stomach fluttered with nervous energy as I considered the possibility. This was so far out of my comfort zone. “I’ll think about it,” I muttered, half of me wanting to, and half of me wanting to run away.

Garrett smirked and shook his head, “No, I think you need a little push,” he said as if reading my thoughts. “Let’s make this easier. Stand up,” he demanded, standing up himself.

“Garrett, this is mental,” I whined, my heart beginning to beat faster.

“Come on,” he said sternly, “time for the posh-girl to let that inner slut out for a while.”

“I’m not—”

“What, posh, or a slut?” Garrett teased. “Come on, Deacon and Kendis are waiting for you.”

My mind told my body to stay seated and to tell Garrett to sod off, but my body suddenly acted on it’s own accord and I stood up.

“Leave the sheet,” Garrett said, pulling it down and leaving me starkers again. Placing his hand on my back, he urged me toward the door.

“Garrett,” I said again, feeling my heart race even faster. “I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“Nonsense,” he said, opening the door and guiding me down the hall. “I guarantee you’re going to enjoy this. Just don’t overthink it. This is simply an intimate, sensual experience. If it helps, think of this as a condition of employment.”

I turned quickly towards him, “Are you serious?” I asked, feeling a flash of anger. “You’ll sack me if I don’t do this?”

Garrett chuckled, “Not in your life,” he said as we arrived in front of a door and stopped. “But we can pretend I will if that helps you find your motivation.”

I was about to reply but as soon as we reached the door, Garrett knocked. I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, standing in the middle of a hallway, not even wearing my knickers, waiting for god only knows what on the other side of the door.

The door opened wide, revealing a sturdily built black man, dressed in only a loose pair of grey shorts. Deacon was nearly as tall as Garrett, only more muscular, with a thick chest and broad shoulders, like an NFL football player who was a few years out of retirement and had gained a few extra pounds.

I heard an excited squeal from behind Garrett, and craning my neck slightly, I spotted Kendis lying under a sheet on the bed.

“Please come in,” Kendis said from inside the room.

I felt a gentle push from Garrett, his hand on my lower back. “Take good care of my girl,” Garrett said, continuing to push me until I was completely inside of the room.

“Oh, we intend to,” Kendis said, her voice sultry and low.

The next few minutes passed in a hazy blur as Garrett left and the door closed. The next thing I knew I was sitting on the bed next to Kendis, Deacon pulled up a chair and sat close to us.

“I wanted to thank you for last night,” Kendis said, reaching out and caressing my cheek. “You helped me feel something I never thought possible, something I’ve wanted for so long… so if you’re okay with this, Deacon and I would like to return the favor.”

I nodded slowly, feeling a level of anxiety I didn’t know existed. Thinking about what I had done… what I was contemplating doing now, made my heart beat fast enough to rival that of a hummingbird’s. I had broken my wedding vows, sleeping with Garrett on several occasions. But my husband knew that was going to happen. He knew I was going to be having sex with Garrett. This was something different. Being with Kendis, and especially Deacon—Quinton could see this as a betrayal because it wasn’t something we had discussed, much less agreed upon. In the end, however, my resistance was only as strong as tissue paper as my own thoughts turned to the many ways I could justify my actions. My carnal side was fully awake, and the sight of Kendis’s dark areolas against the whiteness of the sheets made my nether parts tingle with energy.

Kendis leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. I felt her tongue seeking entrance to my mouth and gladly opened it in greedy anticipation. Our kiss deepened and my thoughts became fuzzy and clouded as I let my desire rule my actions. I felt Kendis’s lips at my neck, quickly finding my most sensuous areas. She gently touched my breasts, caressing them gently with the tips of her fingers. She was rapidly lighting a fire within me, and I felt my passion growing as my breathing quickened. Long fingers brushed over my sex, her mouth finding my nipples and gently sucking. I exhaled a breathy moan. It had been so long since I’d been with another woman like this. Last night awoke something I thought was then dormant. A yearning for female companionship. But last night was only a taste of the total experience. I missed the softness of a woman’s skin, the tenderness of her lips.

Kendis’s fingers were soon deep inside me, probing my depths and bringing me to a relaxing release. She wrapped my upper body in her arms, cradling me closely. “Can my husband join?” she asked, reminding me that there was someone else in the room.

I nodded, wanting to feel the satisfying penetration that only a male could provide. I looked toward Deacon as he stood from his chair and dropped his shorts to the floor.

“Oh my god,” I gasped, seeing the size of his cock, and feeling a nervous apprehension pass through me, “I don’t think I can—’

“—Shhhh,” Kendis, shushed, touching her finger to my lips. “trust me, everything will be wonderful.” She said soothingly, “we’ll take it as slow as we need to, but I promise it’ll feel amazing.”

Deacon’s brow rose as he looked at me, as if asking for my approval. I glanced down at his swelling manhood. It was enormous and beautifully shaped. I felt something deep and primal inside me spark to life. I nodded my head and he crawled up onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs. He placed his hands on my knees, his dark skin contrasting sharply with my own, and spread my legs apart, opening my most vulnerable part to him.

Deacon laid his cock on top of my stomach, its tip touching my belly button. Its size was terrifying, and the thought of it going inside me was frighteningly intimidating. I felt Kendis’s arms hold me tighter as Deacon began to rub his cock back and forth over the top of my pussy, pressing it tightly against me to lubricate his shaft. After a few torturous minutes of teasing, he pulled back and lined up the head of his cock with my opening. I was sopping wet, so the head slipped in relatively easily, but I still inhaled sharply, surprised at the immediate stretching feeling. Deacon pressed inward an inch, and then pulled back out slowly. He repeated this movement several times, each thrust penetrating a little more deeply than the last.

“You’re doing so well, Britt,” Kendis cooed in my ear, sending shivers down my legs. “It might feel like it’s too much, but it’ll get easier, and it’ll be so worth it,” she continued, positioning herself behind me and wrapping her arms under by breasts.

“Oh fuck,” I whimpered as another inch entered my sex. “It’s so much.”

Deacon paused, letting me adjust to his size. I felt so full, but not even half of his cock was inside me, and I swear his cock was still growing, becoming thicker by the moment, the veins running down the shaft becoming thicker and more pronounced.

“Such a tight little cunt,” Deacon moaned, causing me to wince at the vulgar word.

“You are a slutty little cunt, aren’t you,” Kendis teased in my ear. “But don’t be ashamed of it—own it girl.”

My world became a deluge of overwhelming sensation, I felt drunk with lust and pleasure. Deacon’s pace quickened, his hands holding my legs wide apart, allowing him unimpeded access to my now quivering vagina. I felt a stab of pain in my core as Deacon pressed in ever deeper. I cried out in pain and held my hand against his stomach, trying to keep him from driving in too deeply. It felt like I was breaking in two.

“Careful luv,” Kendis said to her husband, “she’ll be addicted to your cock soon enough.”

Deacon’s pace slowed slightly, and he was careful not to penetrate too deeply, but the sensations were still too much to process. My cries sounded strange to my ears, like they belonged to another woman. Surly everyone outside this room was hearing this, I thought, trying to cling the last remnants of rational thought. Only Garrett’s words came to my mind, encouraging me to give in and enjoy the experience.

With a cry, I let myself feel the energy of the moment. I let thoughts of my husband go. I stopped thinking of the morality of what I was doing—it didn’t matter. Nothing but the feeling of this man’s cock buried inside of me mattered. My body was covered in a sheen of sweat, my throat sore from my constant and intense cries.

Suddenly everything stopped, and I felt myself turned over until I was on my hands and knees, my face again between Kendis’s legs and close to her womanhood. She was wet and her scent filled my nose.

“Please,” Kendis begged me, her hands guiding my head to her pussy.

I plunged in, foregoing the tantalizing and teasing that I had done the previous night. I felt Deacon again at my entrance, only this time he thrust in deeply in a single stroke. The burn was intense and unyielding. Each of Deacon’s thrusts drove me forward, pressing my tongue and face deeper into folds of my female lover, evoking raw cries of pleasure from her lips. The power of Deacon’s thrusts was crushing, eventually pressing me flat onto the mattress, my legs felt weak and refused to hold up my weight, but my toes arched almost painfully into the air. I wrapped my arms tightly around Kendis’s legs, crying directly into her pussy at her husband’s merciless invasion of my own sex.

The thin layer of sweat from Kendis’s thighs mixed with my own. The burning sensation slowly faded, but in its place a new feeling began to grow, one I’d never experienced before. It felt like a nuclear bomb going off, but instead of being touched off at the surface, this once was buried deep inside me, triggering things inside of me I never knew existed. My orgasm was so strong that it felt like every muscle in my body had seized and was now paralyzed, and only a chocked cry could be heard from deep in my throat. I couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and the next one began, but a faint thought crept into my consciousness and I realized I was feeling this black man’s hips slamming into my buttocks, his giant cock burying itself deeply inside my womb.

Suddenly I felt powerful arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back towards the man that was wrecking any remnants of desire I had to ever be monogamous to my husband. I would do anything to continue to feel this. I would pay any price, I thought with willful abandon. Deacon pulled my back tightly to his chest and I felt him quiver against me, groaning his pleasure in masculine cries. At last all movement ceased, but the man’s cock remained buried deeply within me. With effort, he moved us into the center of the bed, his cock still never removing itself from my ruined pussy. Kendis joined us there, and the three of us kissed, alternating from one partner to another until I let my head fall to the mattress, breathing in rapid, deep breaths while Kendis continued to kiss her husband.

I felt delirious with pleasure as Kendis moved herself next to me, her face directly in front of mine. “How was that?” she asked with a wicked smile on her features.

“Brilliant,” I said, still struggling to catch my breath.

“I think you were made for fucking, Britt,” she said, smiling when she saw the confusion in my eyes, “I think god created you with the sole purpose of fucking. I’ve never seen anyone take all of Deacon the first time, even I have trouble sometimes, and we’ve been married for years. I mean everything about you just cries out, fuck me.”

Deacon’s throaty laugh sounded above my head, “I can still feel her quivering around my cock,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “It’s getting me hard again.”

“I don’t think I can do that again,” I said, my vision blurred and my voice ragged.

“Of course you can,” Kendis said, her voice oddly stern. “You’re our slutty little fuck-toy for the day.”

I began to protest, but Kendis’s lips crashing onto my own stopped me. I felt Deacon’s cock begin to slowly retract and then penetrate me again, starting the cycle anew. This time, however, his pace was slow, and while he still buried himself deeply inside of me each time, I was only feeling the immeasurable pleasure he was bringing me. Kendis and I kissed like lovers while her husband continued to fuck my looser feeling pussy. I was so lost in the experience that time lost all meaning, but at some point, my black male lover came inside me for a second time.

Deacon pulled out, and I immediately felt a rush of semen flow from my… my cunt. Yes… that’s what it was not, that’s what it was after what this man had just done to it.

“Time to get to work,” Kendis said, grasping me by the arm and pulling me around so that my face was next to Deacon’s soft wet cock. “Go on,” she urged, looking at her husband’s cock. “by the time you get him all cleaned up with your mouth, he’ll be ready to fuck you again.”

“Oh my god, I can’t. I need a break,” I said, my voice pleading and weak.

“We’ll have to work on your stamina, Britt. Because you can, and you will. Besides, after we return you to Garrett this afternoon, he’s going to want to fuck you, and I don’t think you want to deny him, do you?”

I shook my head without thinking, my base instinct pushing me to continue.

“Good, because I really do think you were built for fucking, but I don’t want Garrett upset with us for wearing you out,” Kendis said, smiling at me and holding up her husband’s cock. “You get started here, and I’ll go get you a little pick-me-up.”

Figuring Kendis was going to get us some coffee, I crawled in closely between Deacon’s legs. I looked up and found my black lover resting his head on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling half asleep. I reached out and grasped the man’s cock. It was absolutely massive in my hand. It felt heavy, slippery against my fingers, but still firmer than I’d anticipated. I couldn’t help but run my finger over the defined veins that snaked along under the skin. Breathing in through my nose, I concentrated on the smells that came to my nose. Smells have always been a powerful sense to me, and the heavy scent of my vagina’s natural lubrication, mixed with our sweat, and coupled with my lover couple’s own aroma, pegged itself in my memory as the smell of sex.

My hand easily slid down the dark-skinned shaft, my fingers wrapped around its circumference still almost an inch from touching at the tips. I’ve never felt such a thrill rush through me simply by touching a man’s penis. Something about it made me happy, and I smiled contently as I brought Deacon’s cock closer to my mouth. I liked up the shaft, broadening my tongue wide and flat to cover as much area as possible. Much like the smells assaulting my nose, the tastes were equally strong, but also equally captivating. Hearing Deacon’s sighs of contentment, blended sound into an already powerful blend of carnal senses, the combination of everything all at once reinforced in my mind that this is what I wanted most.

I greedily bathed the big black cock in my hands with my mouth, licking each part of it clean and enjoying its feeling and textures.

“You look like you’re enjoying that.” Kendis said behind me. I felt the bed move as she climbed on and sat next to me. “Now, be a good little slut and stick that pert little ass in the air.”

I did as I was told but continued to enjoy Deacon’s cock.

“Don’t be alarmed,” Kendis said, her fingers gently caressing my center, touching first my pussy and then my arsehole. A slick finger entered my arse, startling me with the intrusion. “What I’m going to give you is all natural, but it does kick like a stubborn mule”

I felt Kendis’ finger retract, but then felt her slip something else inside me. I sat back on my heels, reaching around and touching my arsehole with my fingertips. “What was that?” I asked, unsure if I should be angry or not.

Kendis’ smile widened, “Just give it a minute,” she said, watching me with her expressive eyes.

And suddenly I felt it. Like a rush of pure adrenaline, my heart began to pound as if I’d drank a dozen energy drinks. Any sense of fatigue fled like darkness from light, and all my senses felt hyper aware, like my skin could feel everything that touched it at the same time. Smells became stronger and sounds louder and sharper.

“Bloody damn!” I cursed, feeling more alive and energized than I’ve ever felt in my life. “That the bloody hell did you give me?” I demanded to know, turning sharply on Kendis.

She laughed at my reaction and placed her hand on my thigh, “Don’t worry luv, It’s a natural supplement. No harm will come to you.”

I relaxed, or at least tried to as much as the supplement would allow me. I’ve never taken an illicit drug before, but this is what I always imagined they would feel like. I felt so energized. “How long does it last?” I asked, my spike of anger cooling as quickly as it had risen.

“Everyone reacts differently to it,” Kendis explained, “but like any drug, the more you use it the shorter the duration. For you,” she looked me up and down speculatively, “I’d guess about eight to ten hours—but it could be longer.”

“Did you take one?” I asked her.

Kendis shook her head, “No, I used to live on it years ago, after Gordon first introduced it to us, but I’m over forty now, and I figure I’ve probably stressed my system enough already. No one I know has ever had any harm come from taking it, but I still think it’s something you should take sparingly,” Kendis’s smile returned and she glanced down at her husband’s rising cock. “You’ve already started to feel some of the effects but give it a few more minutes and you’ll see why we call them smut pills.”

“Smut pills?” I asked, not even close to understanding the reference.

“You’ll see,” Kendis said cryptically, her smile still reaching her eyes, “Now, let’s have a lesson on sucking my husband’s cock.”

“Was I not doing it right?” I asked, feeling a sting of embarrassment from her remark. Deacon’s manhood seemed to think I’d done a proper job.

“You did fine, but fellatio is an art, and one I happen to excel at. So don’t get your kickers in a twist, Brit, and take a lesson here,” she said, her tone an interesting combination of whimsy and sternness, “Despite being a smaller girl,” Kendis continued, referring to my body size, “You have an exceptionally large mouth—nice and wide. So, I think you’re going to have a natural advantage over a lot of women.”

I felt a pique of embarrassment and insecurely touched my lips.

“Don’t get timid on me now, Brit. I only meant that as a compliment,” Kendis admonished, and then made herself comfortable next to her husband’s thick penis. Touching her fingertips to the tip of his cock she looked at me, “I’m probably going to tell you a lot of things you already know, but bear with me, I want to make sure I cover everything,” she explained, gesturing me closer, “Go ahead and put just its head in your mouth.”

I inhaled deeply, still able to smell the musky scent of sex in the air, a rush of pure lust exploded like lightning in my core, “Whoa,” I gasped, touching my chest as I brought my mouth closer to the black cock in front of me.

“You feel it, don’t you?” a knowing look on her features.

“I feel something,” I said, amazed by the euphoric blaze of pure lust that was now coursing through me.

“That’s why we call them smut pills,” Kendis smirked, wagging her brow at me, “It’s like natures version of an aphrodisiac steroid.”

I inhaled deeply; my body desperate for air. Then, driven by my lust, I obediently put the head of Deacon’s black cock in my mouth. It tasted more exquisite than the finest white truffle.

“Now don’t go overboard,” Kendis instructed, “because like the clitoris, the head of a penis can be very sensitive, so you don’t want to overstimulate. Mix it up by taking more of him into your mouth.”

I again followed instructions and took the thick black cock deeper into my mouth, my lips stretched as it entered. I stopped when I felt its tip at my throat. I’d tried a few times to deep throat Garrett, but without success. My husband’s cock barely reached the back of my mouth and so I’d never had the opportunity to learn until I began to sleep with Garrett. Nearly gagging, I pulled back, leaving a long strand of saliva between my lips and the cock in my hands.

“Not bad, Brit,” Kendis said softly into my ear, “You’ll need to practice this, but it helps to try and swallow when you feel the cock near the back of your throat. Also, every time you brush your teeth, brush that part of your tongue in the very back—the part that makes you gag,” she said, opening her mouth and pointing to the back of her tongue. “This will desensitize your gag reflex and you’ll be able to deep throat like a pro.”

I nodded, taking every word in like she was giving me the secret of life, but it was difficult to focus because all I wanted was to wrap my cunt around the magnificent cock again. I attempted to take Deacon’s cock deeper than previous attempts but failed each time I tried. “It’s too thick,” I complained, “even if I could stop from gagging, I don’t think I could get it down my throat.”

Kendis winked at me, the corner of her lip lifting ever so slightly, “I’m not going to lie, he’s not easy,” she said, pushing herself in closely to me and pulling her husband’s cock towards her own mouth. “But I think you can learn.” And with that, she opened her mouth and took the thick cock into her mouth. Only she didn’t stop once it was at her throat. She barely hesitated as she pressed herself forward, taking in more and more until her lips were wrapped tightly around the base of Deacon’s manhood.

“Oh my god,” I cried, witnessing something I was sure was impossible. “I can see your throat stretching.”



Garrett,

Garrett leaned against rough bark of the thick fir tree, finding his usual spot where he knew he could get cell phone reception. Fishing out his phone, he dialed the number, sighing as he put it to his ear.

“Garrett,” sounded the familiar voice of Gordon Braxton. “Thank you for calling back.”

“No problem, what’s going on?”

“Well, I got a call a few weeks ago from Grupo Carso out of Mexico City, asking if I would meet with Carlos Slim. Apparently, he’s in the market to acquire a shipping company and wants to discuss buying ours,” Gordon explained, referring to the Mexican businessman who was now the wealthiest Latin American.

“Ah,” said Garrett, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Now I understand why you haven’t been concerned about the cyber intrusions Aksel’s been dealing with—you’re looking to flip it.”

“I’d hardly consider it a flip,” Gordon defended, “We’ve owned that shipping company for almost ten years.”

Garrett pushed away from the tree and walked to the other side of the path, not straying too far for fear of getting outside of the small coverage area and dropping the call. “Okay, well, I’m only the minority partner on this one, so are you asking me, or telling me that you’re intending to sell?”

“Telling,” Gordon answered after a brief pause, “But I’m trying to be diplomatic about it—you know, considering other people’s feelings and whatnot.”

“Your therapist would be proud,” Garrett said, meaning to tease, but finding his words had a touch of sarcastic bite to them. But if Gordon noticed, he didn’t comment.

“If we can reach terms, I’m going to sell, but I intend to get top dollar for it.”

“You always do,” Garrett said, this time without sarcasm. “What do you need from me?”

“Signatures eventually, once we have an agreement,” Gordon answered, sounding almost bored, “but after meeting that cute little plaything you brought with you, I want to ask you what it’ll take to send her my way.”

Garrett’s jaw clinched and he had to force himself not to speak right away. He knew exactly what Gordon was asking for. He knew the games the man liked to play and some of the extreme things he got into. “Gordon,” he finally said, trying to control to tenor of his voice, “She’s someone special to me, and I intend to keep her that way. I hired her as an associate more as an excuse to keep her around, but she’s very sharp. I think she’s got a bright future ahead of her.”

“That’s what caught my attention. I could tell just by looking into her eyes that she’s extremely intelligent. Listen Garrett,” Gordon said, making Garrett’s anger flare and the patronizing tone, “I need someone like her to work on the Cielo Azule,” he said, referring to his personal luxury yacht. “So, what do you want for her?”

“Look Gordon,” Garrett began, returning to the tree to make sure he had the best reception, “She’s very young, and honestly she’s not very experienced—not in the kind of thing I know you intend for her. But seriously, she’s not mine to bargain for,” Garrett explained, trying to walk the line between being candid and polite. “Besides, isn’t that what you’ve been training Harley up for? I thought she was going to take care of those needs on the yacht.”

Gordon laughed, “Damn, Garrett,” he said, sounding almost conspiratory, “You’ve got to come see her one of these days,” Garrett could hear the glee in his voice, like a child excited to show off a new toy, “Fucking Epstein really did a number on her—but no, Harley will work out in… other ways.”

“Still, Samantha’s not mine to do with as I please,” Garrett said, willing the conversation to come to an end.

“What are you talking about?” guffawed Gordon. “She’s a fucking commodity like everything else in this world. Who am I fucking talking to?” Gordon asked, sounding slightly exasperated. “I’ve known you for too long Garrett. Don’t start getting all moralistic on me now.”

Frustration continued to boil inside Garrett as his mind thought of the best way to end the conversation. He was too heavily involved with Gordon to simply tell him to fuck off. Gordon wasn’t the type of individual one wanted to wrong, “She’s married,” Garrett finally said, hoping that might end it. He heard Gordon break out in uncontrollable laughter on the other end of the phone.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Gordon said sarcastically, “I was only wanting to offer her a job, but you’re trying to pull her away from her husband—does she have kids?”

“No, she doesn’t, but it’s not like that,” Garrett defended, “It’s complicated, alright.”

“No, not alright,” Gordon protested. “I’ve already made the decision, but to make it work, I’ll sell you the Waimanalo Beach property you’re always been pestering about—I’ll even make it a fair price.”

“Really?” Garrett said, caught off guard. It took him almost a minute to gather his thoughts, “Huh, you caught me flat-footed on that one. I never thought you’d part with it.”

“Hey, things change,” Gordon said easily, “But in all honesty, I was planning on moving that property next year anyway, but if it helps seal the deal here—all the better.”

“Alright then,” Garrett agreed, already working through the justifications he’d need to sleep at night, “Let’s meet up Tuesday and we can go over the details,” he hesitated for a moment and then added, “I’ll have to start thinking about how to convince her to change jobs so quickly without it looking so suspicious. Like you said, she’s extremely intelligence, so you’re going to have your hands full—but it’s going to take a long time to get her where you want her to be. I hope you’re prepared to be patient.”

Again, Gordon laughed, “I can be if I think it’s worth something, but in this case, I’ve already got the ball rolling. I had Kendis start slipping her the Epstein meds.”

“The smut pills?” Garrett asked, a hollow feeling opening in his stomach. “Those aren’t mind control pills, you know that.”

“I know,” Gordon admitted, “But like alcohol, they help things move along. And with your help—and others, I’m sure we can get her what I want her to be.”

“And what’s that exactly,” asked Garrett.

“A sexy, intelligent, charismatic, deal-closing-fuck-machine…”

[Jacko]

Hmm. I didn't find this chapter at all enjoyable. I guess Gordon is a surrogate for Jeffrey Epstein, and Garratt is willing to sell out someone he seemed to care for, drugs and all, for a piece of real estate. Oh well .. thanks anyway.

Also at one point you refer to Garrett as Logan.

“She’s very young, and honestly she’s not very experienced—not in the kind of thing I know you intend for her. But seriously, she’s not mine to bargain for,” Logan explained