Peyton Ch 03 Uncaged

***

THE PRESENT:

"Okay, I'll bring you your drinks and get your orders in!" the chirpy waitress said with a pleasant smile.

"Thank you so much." Phil said to her. She took this as her cue to leave. When she was out of earshot, he leaned towards me and joked with a whisper, "Damn. She's so nice. Now we

have

to leave a tip!"

I snickered, though I must admit it wasn't genuine. My mind was elsewhere. He must've noticed because his hand reached across the table and laid atop mine.

"You okay, babe? You seem a little wound up."

"Yeah. I'm good." I lied, though my choice of words betrayed me. One of our inside jokes is that when I say, "

I'm okay"

I really mean "

I'm okay".

However, when I say,

"I'm good"

I really mean

"I don't wanna tell you why I'm not okay"

.

Knowing that, he hesitantly asked, "Are

we

okay?"

"I hope so." I said honestly.

A sad look came across his face, which maybe meant that he was taking my uncertainty as an indicator that I was having trouble with us. I wasn't. My fear was that if I let him know everything,

he

might have trouble with being married to...a slut.

We were interrupted with our drinks being brought to the table. After another pleasant exchange that all but ensured her tip, she was off again.

There was a few tics of silence between us before he said, "Look, I know this weekend was crazy, and I know it's my fault for not putting a stop to things, but I promise that I didn't set you up."

"No. Phil, no!" I said, horrified that he felt that this weekend was his fault, and that I was upset with him because of what happened. "I believe you. This weekend just happened to both of us. I love you, and I'm not upset with you. Not even a little bit."

"Then, what's up?"

I sighed. "I just...I'm scared that you might look at me differently. I mean, it's obvious that a part of you liked it. Especially after...you know...what

just

happened and all..."

His eyes darted away as a shy smile adorned his lips.

"...but I'm just afraid that once the lust wears off, you'll stop seeing me as a wife and start looking at me like...you know..."

Like a slut. Just like the rest of them.

His eyes snapped back to me, as if what I just said was deeply concerning. "I told you, babe. You're my wife. Nothing will change that."

Unconvinced, I said, "You say that now..."

"Stop it." He cut me off. After giving my hands a loving squeeze, he continued, "Yes, I say that now. And you know what? I'll be saying that tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. I'll keep saying it until you start to believe me."

"But...you're so...you know...conservative. Your dad's a pastor for God's sake!" Admittedly, I winced at using the Lord's name in vain, especially when talking about his father. "What would he think about his son's wife having a threesome with two other men?"

Phil laughed at that. "He'd probably flip out and quote about a dozen scriptures on marital purity."

He was laughing, but there was nothing funny. That not only failed to hit its mark with me comedically, it made me feel 1000% worse.

"Oh God!" I groaned with despair, which made him laugh even harder. Imploring him to take this seriously, I added, "You're laughing, but he senses something. Maybe God gave him a sixth sense."

Giving me a deadpanned look that you give someone who's being extremely gullible, he said, "Peyton...he's a pastor, not a Jedi." His face then got a strange look on it before he added, "Besides...fuck my dad. No one should care what he thinks."

That comment seemed strange to me. His dad was a spiritual leader. I'm not the most religious person, but even I held his dad in a high esteem.

Shrugging it off with a smile, I half-jokingly said, "I'm not too sure about him not being a Jedi. I think he may have seen last night coming, even before we married."

"Why do you say that?"

I leaned in like I was telling him a secret and humoredly said, "You remember when we told them I accepted your proposal? And they took us out for that dinner? Well, when I went to the bathroom, he was waiting for me when I came out. We talked for a bit before we came back to the table, and he asked me if I would consider going to premarital counseling, just to get us both on the same page."

I'm not sure what I expected. Maybe a chuckle, a snicker, or even a shrug of indifference. The color-drained, open-mouthed stare took me by surprise.

"Wait. He did what?"

This sharp shift in him was alarming. There was a chill in his voice when he asked that, completely different than his normal tone.

"He just asked me to consider counseling."

My answer seemed to agitate him even more. He rubbed his hands through his hair, which is something he does when he's anxious or frustrated.

"You never met with him, did you?"

"No. Of course not. Why would I meet for premarital counseling without you?" I asked as if it should've been obvious. He seemed to relax a bit at that, which only raised my concerns that much more. With confusion in my voice, I asked, "What's going on, babe? You're scaring me."

He took a deep breath, and I could see him visibly deflate. With a sigh, he answered, "It's just that...my dad...he's a hypocrite. And he's not...a good man."

"Why would you say that?"

He shook his head and chuckled humorlessly; almost angrily. "I was raised in a house of hypocrisy, Peyton. My father, my family, my entire childhood was built on a huge lie."

He looked off to the side, like he was hiding his eyes from me. For the first time, I saw something in him that I'd never seen before. I saw vulnerability. I saw a brokenness that just wasn't accessible to me until now. In all the years we'd been married, this was the first time I was seeing this.

Continuing, he said, "My dad would preach every Sunday, often about presenting your marriage as a blessing to the Lord, all the while he was secretly fucking several women in the congregation."

"What?!" I exclaimed, completely shocked.

"Oh yeah." He said with an angry nod. "That's not even the worse of it."

By now he was practically shaking. I could feel the anger radiating from him. I couldn't help wondering how it was I'd never heard about this. Why wouldn't he tell me something that obviously caused him so much anguish? Why didn't he trust me with this until now?

Same question could go for you.

I shook off my conscience. Imploringly, I asked, "Babe, what could be worse than that?

He sighed. Then he looked at me and answered my question. With explicit detail.

***

PHIL:

Why is it that most life altering days start out rainy?

Such a dreary day. Dark clouds overhead. Rain coming down in sheets with only brief pauses. No thunder yet, but that was sure to be on the way.

Eighteen-year-old Phil was spending this awful day like he did many others; at his cousin's house, who happened to also be his best friend. He and Roy grew up close and were more like brothers than cousins.

Like many Saturdays before this one, the two of them were locked away in the finished basement playing video games on Roy's PS2. The family had turned this basement into an entertainment center of sorts. There was a pool table, video games, surround sound, a dart board, an extensive DVD collection, and a huge TV. At the moment, the game of choice was "

Tekken 5

".

Roy's parents were out, so the boys had the house to themselves. Usually, this would equal the two of them ripping through the house with typical teen buffoonery, but today Roy seemed a bit subdued. In fact, he acted as though Phil's presence was a bother to him.

As the two boys played the game, Phil couldn't help noticing that Roy was playing half-heartedly. Usually, when Roy used the character "

Paul

", Phil didn't stand a chance. The character had a punch that was so powerful that it was an instant K.O. And for some reason, Phil ran right into it repeatedly.

But today, Phil was mopping the floor with him. It was as if Roy was just randomly pressing buttons.

Out of the blue, he said, "Your dad is a dick."

"What did you just say?"

Roy just dropped the controller, right in the middle of the fight. He turned to Phil, and with disdain written all over his face, he repeated, "Your dad...is a fucking predator."

This mien of ire was strange coming from Roy. Between the two of them, Phil was the broody one. Roy was usually carefree, happy, and full of jokes. But now, he was someone different. It was like he was looking for a fight and challenging Phil to disagree with him so he had a reason.

Of course, this angered Phil. In his eyes, his dad was the best man on earth. Even the absenteeism he endured as a kid didn't tarnish that image. Phil knew that every minute his dad was away from his family, he was helping someone in need. People all over told him how wonderful his dad was.

Sure, there were rumors about misconduct, but aren't there always? That's how it is with most great men. There are those who just want to besmirch the legacy, be it out of jealousy or feeling inadequate comparatively.

So, Phil dropped his controller and stood to face Roy with his fists balled up. Glaring menacingly at his best friend, he said, "You're gonna stop talking shit about my dad, unless you want a problem with me!"

Roy stood too and matched Phil's aggressiveness. "So, what if I do want a problem with you?"

Where was this coming from? Why was he being this way?

Poking a finger into Roy's chest, Phil said, "My dad has helped more people than you will ever know. He's a man of God, and you don't shit on men sent by God."

Roy just burst out laughing. It wasn't a funny laugh; more like a laugh dripping with sarcasm.

"Your dad doesn't help anybody, you idiot! He helps himself! The fact that you bought into all that bible crap makes you as dumb as everyone else in this hick town. He can't be sent by God because God isn't real. But even if he were real, the last person he'd send would be a con man who can only think with his dick!"

And that...was it. The two of them were on the floor, rolling around with grunts, punches, headlocks, and swearing. Phil was bigger than Roy, but Roy was feisty.

The fight lasted for a good 10 minutes. Even during this anger, I think the fact that neither of them were seriously hurt says something to the bond they shared.

The fight ended with them sitting on the floor across from each other. They were breathing heavily and glaring.

Finally, after quietly trying to kill each other with heat vision, Phil said, "What's with you? Are you jealous of my dad? You mad because my dad is the pastor and yours is the Deacon. I get it. My dad helps hundreds of people in his congregation while yours just pasts out flyers and collects tithes. That's gotta be rough."

A sad look came across Roy's face. "My dad is a pussy. I don't respect him. But that has nothing to do with YOUR dad. Your dad is..." He stopped himself, like a lightbulb just turned on in his head. Suddenly, he hopped up and said, "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Phil asked in confusion as he followed.

"You'll see."

Phil was even more confused when Roy went to the garage to grab his bike. It'd been raining all day! Surely Roy wasn't suggesting that the two of them go riding in his crap.

He was.

Phil was hesitant, but Roy firmly said, "If you wanna know the truth, you'll get on your bike and follow me."

Maybe it was God. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe it was just blind luck. But there was a break in the heavy rain. Now, it was just a light shower. It was almost like something wanted him follow his cousin.

Sometimes, Phil wishes he ignored this and stayed safely in the basement.

The two of them rode their bikes across town, almost five miles away. This wasn't a casual ride. Roy was pedaling like he was possessed. It was tough for Phil to keep up. He wanted to ask Roy what the hell was going on, but Roy was too far ahead. He was on a mission.

However, certain buildings on the way were familiar. Soon, Phil knew where they were headed. They were going to his dad's church.

Roy only slowed down when they reached the parking lot of the church. And then, he only slowed down because he saw his father's car. From there, he looked across and saw Phil's dad's car.

This wasn't significant to Phil other than being pleasantly surprised to know where his dad was. His Uncle's car wasn't surprising either. If his dad was here, his uncle's presence was normal. He was the Deacon, after all. They probably spent a lot of off time in the church.

However, to Roy, the presence of the two cars brought a disgusted snarl to his face. He sat there and looked at his dad's car like it was covered in larva.

"Dude, what's going on with you?" Phil asked, noticing Roy's reaction. Roy just shook his head. Once again, he gave the ominous message, "You'll see." With that, he leaned his bike on a tree and walked off towards the back of the church.

The two of them snuck around the building like two Navy Seals. Crouched low, stepping stealthily, moving quickly. They passed several windows until they reached the one that made Roy stop. He put his hand up, signaling to Phil that they'd reached the spot. Phil couldn't help noticing that this window was approximately where his dad's office should be.

Roy closed his eyes and took a breath, as if he had to prepare himself to look inside. Then he ducked beneath the window and carefully lifted his head to take a peek.

Something was happening; something horrific. Roy's reaction to what he was seeing was visceral. His eyes bubbled with tears of anger; his mouth open in shock. Not even three seconds later, he had to turn away with his eyes squeezed closed. Then he simply slumped down to the ground.

"Roy? What's going on?" Phil asked. Roy simply pointed up to the window.

Phil had to see what horror reduced his cousin to tears. When he lifted his head to the window, his entire life changed, right before his eyes. His assumption that this was the Pastor's office was spot on. However, what he found inside of that office had nothing Godly about it.

There was a woman bent over his dad's desk. Her sundress was flipped onto her back. A pair of white panties were scrunched and coiled on the desk next to her.

Her hands were above her head, clutching the edge of the desk for support against the man that was behind her, vigorously thrusting. The man was pulling her long, blonde mane, forcing her head back into an almost impossible position.

Phil saw her face clearly. Even with it fixed into an animalistic grimace with her eyes squeezed shut, Phil could recognize his aunt.

So, the man who was dominantly pounding her had to be his uncle. His pants were pooled around his calves. The hand that wasn't yanking her hair back was intermittently slapping her bare ass, which at this point had a red glow. Each time he pulled his pelvis back, a portion of his hard cock became visible before he pounded himself back inside of her.

Phil's eyes grew wide in amazement. "

Holy shit!"

he thought to himself. "

Aunty and Unc are actually having sex in dad's office! And he is giving it to her!"

A new level of respect arose for his uncle. He was normally so passive and unassertive. The dynamic of his cousin's house was less "

Father knows best"

and more

"King of Queens".

His aunt clearly ran everything, and his uncle was merely another subject in her kingdom. Most of the time, he seemed to be walking on eggshells to avoid angering her.

But not now. This submissive woman in front of him getting relentlessly pounded was clearly not in control. And the orgasmic look on her face said she was loving it.

Phil was so mesmerized by the scene that it took a minute for the significance of this to seep in. It was when he looked down at his cousin/best friend on the ground that he started putting pieces together.

The two cars in the parking lot. Roy's strange behavior.

Why would he be insistent on riding through the rain to watch his parents have sex? Why would the very sight of it have him on the ground like his world was over? And why were both cars parked in the parking lot?

Suddenly, a sense of horror filled him. Taking a closer look, he was hit with the realization of the situation.

That wasn't his uncle fucking his aunt. It was his dad.

What the fuck!

So many questions hit him at once. Why was his dad cheating on his mom? Why was he fucking his aunt? And why were they doing it in God's house, like it was some sort of brothel?

This was wrong. So wrong. And yet, Phil couldn't turn away. He couldn't take his eyes off the two in the room. This man was nothing like the man he'd been idolizing. His dad was patient, gentle, and kind. But this man he was watching was anything but. The way he was fucking his sister-in-law was...brutal. Even the look on his face was not of someone who was enjoying a sweet session of lovemaking. His face was red, his mouth tightly closed into a grimacing frown, and he was gripping her hair like he wanted to tear her head off her shoulders. He was fucking this woman as roughly and brutally as he could. He was taking her and bending her to his will.

Then, there was his aunt. The look of pure bliss on her face was...hypnotizing. There was no guilt. No reticence. No hesitation. You'd never know that she was a woman betraying her husband and family. The only expression on her pretty face was...lust.

A confusing mixture of feelings swirled inside of Phil. He was horrified, angry, disgusted...and aroused. He didn't understand it. The conflicting duality of their expressions told a story of dominance and submission that struck a chord with him. Phil had never seen his aunt look more stunning. The way she was giving herself to his dad was...beautiful.

As wrong as it was, his cock started to swell in his pants.

It was Roy's pained whimpers coming from below that snapped him out of his reverie. He forced himself to look away from the scene and focus on his best friend, who was slumped down on the ground and crying like his world was over.

"I'm sorry, Roy." He said apologetically. He now understood. Kneeling in front of his cousin to put them at eye level, he touched his shoulder comfortingly. After a few moments, he asked, "Does your dad know?"

That question earned him an evil sneer. Without another word, Roy wiped his eyes and jumped up. Phil thought he was running away from him when he stomped off, but he saw Roy heading towards "the bush".

When they were younger, the two of them discovered a window in the basement that was perfect for sneaking in and out. It was ground level to the outside and aligned perfectly behind a bush so that it was hidden. It's location in the basement made it a hidden secret also. No one ever locked it, and it was just big enough for them to slip through.

This little secret escape hatch was used to sneak in and out of boring church services. The two of them would just head to the basement, sneak out, and run to the corner store down the street. The owner knew them, and would give them a handful of quarters so they could play Street Fighter on the arcade style gaming machine while eating Twizzlers. Knowing what time service ended, they were able to ninja their way back in with no one being the wiser.

As Roy crawled on his stomach to push the window open and slip inside, those fond memories seemed to be a lifetime away. The circumstances were vastly different now.

Very quietly, the two of them went through the basement and crept up the stairs of the big church. The stairs came up to the first floor, right beside the sanctuary.

"Roy..." Phil whispered. "What are we..."

"Shhh!"