This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes cuckoldress/cuckold humiliation/eclectic sex. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
==================
Saturday, June 15th
==================
The triple screws of the Amarillo Sky churned a sizable wake as Alex Cartwright piloted his cruiser southward through Biscayne Bay. In the elevated cockpit above, Lauren Miller stood beside her Texan boyfriend as he steered his yacht. With one hand on his shoulder, she sipped a mimosa in the other. As always, Alex's watchful eyes scanned the sea ahead, searching for any impending dangers. On a bench far below near the craft's stern, sat Lauren's husband Corey. He pondered why the hell he was there in the first place. Of course, it was partially because his boss Dale Dactyl had encouraged him, like the project manager's best friend Zane before him, to finally settle down, acclimate to life in Miami, and embrace the wittol he had become. Thus, when Lauren's Texan fuck buddy had extended an invite to accompany the successful rancher-turned-realtor to Key Largo for the weekend, Corey had graciously accepted. He didn't know what to expect, but he would follow all the sage advice given.
'Embrace it. Get off on it. Own it.'
+++++
Embracing the new dynamic had been the topic du jour when meeting with the billionaire entrepreneur. This was the morning after things fell apart on the long-married couple's self-imposed moratorium of the behavior that had enabled Corey's fetish and unlocked Lauren's sexuality. No matter how hard they both tried to return to normalcy after his collapse, it was evident that the genie could not be put back in the bottle. Too many things had been done and said. The sixty-one-year-old's fetish had become too strong to deny, and at only forty-eight, his wife had become a sexual dynamo that needed taming.
For over two hours, Corey sat attentively in Dale's spacious office as the slightly younger man offered suggestions for his new hire's predicament. Dactyl and his wife Amanda, who had been active swingers in South Florida for more than a decade, were deeply familiar with Miami's underground networks, providing a safe outlet for those seeking to fulfill their desires. Dale suggested that Corey and Lauren connect with this community. Furthermore, he theorized that true happiness for the couple lay in accepting their current selves rather than futilely resisting.
'Relax, accept your fetish, and enjoy the weight that will be lifted. Let her date, be herself, and you do you.'
Corey sighed, finding some comfort in those words, reminiscent of Zane's. During dinner that evening, Lauren was taken aback when her husband suggested easing the restrictions on the lifestyle that had dominated their relationship since they moved. Just weeks earlier, he had been adamant about returning to normalcy, a request she had honored for his well-being. Now, he proposed the opposite. Initially confused and skeptical, especially given their discussions about returning to their simple life in Iowa, Lauren's doubts grew after their recent failed attempt at intimacy, revealing the hopelessness of trying to alter their course.
+++++
And so it was that Corey found himself lounging in the back of a boat on that bright Miami Saturday morning, piloted by a man with whom his wife had gotten very close. It was no surprise; Alex was a stand-up guy who had relocated to Florida to pursue success in the travel industry. Known for his genuine kindness, he had respected Lauren's wish for a break while she and her husband worked through their issues.
As Corey casually swiveled his head from port to starboard, pretending to take in the sights, he found it quite challenging with Lauren and Alex positioned high above him. About an hour into the journey to Key Largo, Lauren had disappeared briefly and returned in thong bikini bottoms paired with a gray, open-sided men's workout shirt that billowed in the wind, revealing glimpses of her perky breasts. Her nipples, hardened by the sea breeze, were visible even from the stern, while her jet-black hair danced in the wind. Her toned abs and sculpted rear were accentuated by the snug fabric, a testament to her dedication to working out four days a week in the apartment building's gym.
This was in sharp contrast to Corey, whose sporadic visits to any workout facility were half-hearted and irregular. Yes, Zane had tried to help, but the inconsistency was too great, and the results were non-existent. As the older man gazed up at Alex perched atop the boat, he couldn't help but feel self-conscious about his own body in comparison. While Alex's thirty-two-year-old frame was toned and athletic, Corey's was soft and undefined. His sporadic attempts at exercise had shown little visible progress, and at twice Cartwright's age, the older man was surely no match for the travel agent in terms of fitness. As if to emphasize that fact, the significant bulge beneath their host's tight swim trunks was all the proof needed.
Despite his boss and best friend's encouragement to accept his place in his marriage to Lauren, Corey couldn't shake the cuckold emotions bubbling inside him. Closing his eyes, he felt the jealousy, the envy, the bittersweet knowledge that her body was no longer his alone, but a playground for any man who caught her eye. Shifting on the bench, the aching in his groin intensified as he watched his wife giggle and flirt with her date as if their romance was deepening. Corey noticed how Alex's eyes lit up whenever he gazed at Lauren, the way he leaned in closer to her, one hand on the helm, the other draped loosely around her waist. The way he touched her, like he owned her, like she belonged to him.
And make no mistake, the good captain was acutely aware that her husband was sitting just ten feet below them, observing their every move. Since meeting Lauren, Alex had grappled with many demons related to their relationship. First, his parents had instilled in him the importance of marriage and the Ten Commandments, one of which explicitly forbade coveting thy neighbor's wife. Secondly, out of all the married women in Miami, he had chosen to have an affair with one whose spouse had a fetish. A husband who desired the kind of bullying and humiliation that Alex had always believed to be wrong. Yet, here he was, taking the couple on an overnight excursion where that type of behavior would surely be expected. And it was anyone's guess if the strapping tour guide would pass the test.
As if she knew what he was thinking, Lauren leaned in and whispered in his ear, drawing attention to Corey below. Alex turned and offered a half-hearted wave to the man, a smug smirk crossing his face. If portraying the stereotypical bull was necessary to be with someone as lovely as her, then he was willing to play the part. To emphasize this, he let his hand to wander down and casually settled on her firm ass, giving it a subtle squeeze.
For the Miller patriarch, it served as a harsh reminder of the evolving dynamics between him and his wife since he had disclosed his cuckold fetish. The way she had taken to it with such enthusiasm, embracing her newfound and sanctioned sexual freedom. But for Corey, it was a different story. He couldn't help but feel like an outsider, like a third wheel in her newfound relationships. A bona fide cuck, one destined to watch from the sidelines as his wife cavorted with others. And stronger a feeling still, he couldn't help but feel like he was losing her. Like she was slipping away from him, bit by bit. And it fueled his kink even more, a sick twist to an already fucked up fetish.
If the failed suspension of their recent lifestyle had taught him anything, it was that there was no use in fighting those feelings. Corey was now determined to make the best of the bed he'd made, to focus on the moment, to enjoy the knowledge that other men - and women - were indulging in his wife's mind and body. Quite frankly, the angst and the pain would always be there, lurking just beneath the surface.
Leaving Alex's side, Lauren descended the ladder from the cockpit to the stern, her bikini-clad bottom swaying gently with each step. She skipped the last few rungs, landed firmly on the deck with a thud, and approached her husband, steadying herself against the boat's motion.
"Want some water?"
Corey shook his head.
"Alex says we'll be in Largo in about forty-five minutes."
"And then what?"
"Then we'll settle in at Sal Bender's place and spend the night."
"Who?"
"One of Alex's business partners. Has a place on a cove on the island. Nice guy. Hippie type."
"And?"
"I don't know. Hang by the pool for a while, maybe go kayaking?"
"Sounds like... fun."
The response was less enthusiastic than Lauren had hoped. She furrowed her brow and extended a hand to grasp Corey's shoulder. "You still okay with this?"
Her outstretched arm tugged at the open-sided shirt, revealing both still-firm, tennis ball-sized breasts.. The workout top was clearly intended for men only. Corey shuddered at her touch and nodded. Words failed him. He had seen those breasts a thousand times, but this time it felt different. This weekend, it wouldn't be he who suckled and caressed them.
The project manager looked up at the helm where Alex stood vigilantly.
It would be him.
"But are you okay?" Lauren repeated.
Corey tried to play it cool. He knew what she meant. Anyone would know what she meant.
"Yeah."
Lauren slipped her hand off his shoulder and let a finger trace his skin up his neck and to his lips. Leaning closer, she gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Good. I'm going to get him something to drink. Let me know if you change your mind."
Out of habit, Corey pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. Lauren stole a nervous glance towards the cockpit and wriggled out of his grasp.
"Please, babe, he's already uncomfortable as it is."
"He's uncomfortable?" Corey shot back incredulously.
The look Lauren gave him oozed genuine sympathy, but she still pulled away and hurried below deck to the galley. It was very clear that this excursion was their date, and he was tagging along. Shielding his eyes, he again looked up at Alex, who had a wide grin on his face. And why wouldn't he?