*** Disclaimer ***
The following story is a work of fiction. It contains themes of cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, and NTR. If this isn't the fetish for you, don't waste your time reading the next (however many) pages, then waste my time sending me hate mail. If you DO read it, and DO send me hate mail, then I'm going to assume you really did enjoy it, and are struggling to not admit it to yourself.
Otherwise, I love hearing from fans, and welcome any suggestions, thoughts, criticisms, or fantasy ideas. Enjoy!
***
Chapter 3...
***
The thumping through the bedroom walls have ceased now. I can hear them talking... cooing to each other, whispering sweet nothings. Somehow, knowing that Brett and Alexandra are making pillow talk and giggling after their latest fuck session is even worse than if they were just plowing each other into oblivion. It's one thing to be cheated on physically. But emotionally is an even harder pill to swallow.
They haven't unlocked the bedroom door yet. They probably want their privacy. To savor just the moment, just the two of them. I'd give them that, but though the snow has stopped, the plows haven't arrived yet to free me from this prison. Funny... that my honeymoon cabin paradise has now become my prison. Maybe because another man is enjoying my wife and my honeymoon much more than I am. The snow that was meant to isolate just me and my wife for a cozy romantic trip, has also trapped a stranger here with us. One that has me bested in pretty much every way.
I'm using the lull in the fornication to collect my thoughts over this past week.
I should probably take a moment to address a couple of questions. By now, you might be wondering, "Sean, how do you know what Brett and your wife were doing in the kitchen? You were outside shoveling snow. How do you know what they were doing just out of sight? How do you know what they were thinking, or talking about when you weren't in the room?"
Well... the simple answer (as you'll come to find out): They told me. I mean, we are snowed in, in the middle of nowhere, just the three of us. There is literally nothing to do but sleep, eat, drink, fuck, and... yes... talk. They couldn't tiptoe around their blossoming "relationship" forever without me catching on. And they couldn't simply ignore meβ it's not a big cabin.
It was only a matter of time before they had a sit down with me, and laid all the cards on the table. They told me everything, in all its soul crushing detail. Every lustful thought they'd had, every wandering glance, every flirtatious comment, every discreet little rendezvous, and every session they had when my back was turned.
Their logic was to leave no stone unturned. The sooner I learned how deep the rabbit hole went, the sooner I would accept this new reality. No matter how much it hurts.
And speaking of hurt, the door of the bedroom just unbolted. Out of the bedroom strides Brett now. He's naked. Of course, he's naked. By the light of the fire, I can seen his muscular torso is glistening with sweat. I see that my wife must have really given him a workout.
His cock hangs between his thighs, it's limp for now, swinging back and forth between its own weight. I have to look away, because not only is he bigger than even the average porn star, but I already know the glossy sheen along his shaft is from my wife.
"Hey loser," he smirks at me, before strutting off to the kitchen. The muscles of his strong thighs and tight ass flex as he goes, and his manhood pendulums from side to side.
I can hear the door to the refrigerator open and shut. I risk a glance to the bedroom. Alex is waiting patiently. The sheets pulled up to cover her perky breasts. Her dark smoky eyes are half closed and there's a lingering smile on her full lips, making her cheeks dimple cutely. She looks fully satisfied, and love drunk.
My insides twist into a painful knot. She hasn't looked at me like that since we started dating.
Brett returns from the kitchen a minute later, carrying two glasses, and I see Alex's eyes wander her new lover's body appreciably. Brett glances over his shoulder at me one last time, gives me a wink, and kicks the bedroom door shut. I hear it latch.
I know it's only a matter of timeβ maybe minutes, maybe even a few hours. But sooner or later my reprieve will end, and the passionate groans will start again.
Reluctantly, my thoughts take me back to that dayβ after my failed attempts to shovel us out. The hot water debate...
***
"That's out of the question," I folded my arms across my chest, trying to look defiant. Really, I was doing it because I was cold. I'd shed my coat, but my shirt was soaked with sweat, that was rapidly starting to cool. The snow was heavy and my efforts of trying to dig us out had taken its toll. My arms felt leaden.
Brett shrugged nonchalantly. "That's the solution. If you guys want a shower today, we'll have to share it. Otherwise we'll stagger it out, and each day it'll be someone else's turn to bathe."
Alex made a mock gagging sound. "That sounds awful."
"Hey, if you guys want to suffer in each other's stink, just because Sean is afraid of someone seeing him naked, that's cool. I'm all for it. But if you guys want to keep smelling daisy fresh, we'll have to shower together."
"Why don't we just take military style showers?" I protested, my face turning red. "We lather up before, then just use the hot water to rinse?"
"C'mon, Sean," Alex sighed. "This is supposed to be our vacation. We didn't spend a shit load of money on this cabin, and drive all the way up to Maine to shower like refugees."
"Well I didn't spend a shit load of money and drive all the way up to Maine to have to share our trip with some guy who should have left before we showed up," I replied.
"That's what this is about? Petty jealousy again, all because we got drunk and tried to have some fun last night?" Alex was getting angry again, and it was making me want to shrink away. "We already had this argument. It's over with. You can either get over it, or not, but you can't keep throwing it in my face!" She raised her voice at the last few words.
I paled, and glanced between the two of them. "W-why don't you and I split the shower, and Brett boils some hot water? Or better yet, bathes in the hot tub?"
"Why don't I shower with your wife, and you bathe in the hot tub?" Brett grinned.
I bristled. "Are you serious?" It was hard to hide my mounting anger over that suggestion.