*** 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!
***
I suppose I should have seen it coming. After all, I was somewhat aware of her wandering eye before I married her. Alexandra, aka "Alex" had described herself as promiscuous before we met. But I'd assumed all of that was part of her past, and that's where it would stay.
I knew men looked at her, hit on her, even flirted with her. Sometimes with me right there in the room with her. Why not? She was a prize, and it never bothered me. I wasn't the jealous type (or so I thought). If guys thought she was hot, I took it as a compliment. She was a good looking girl— naturally tall, about 5'9", with long straight dark brown hair, and a sweeping bang that usually came down across her face. She had strong features— the strongest being a big mouth full of perfect white teeth, and large dimples. Her eyes were brown, smoky if she wore makeup, though she rarely did. If Hilary Swank had a hot younger sister and you sprinkled in some features of Jennifer Garner, that would be Alex.
She was fit, a runner and regular gym rat when we met, which I often struggled to keep up with. She had nice round perky B-cup tits with puffy pink nipples, a perfect sculpted ass that you might call 'big', and long toned legs.
Right now, all I can think about are those legs, probably wrapped around his waist as he fucks her for the third time today. Even as I sit here, I can here them in the next room. The squeak of the bed, the rhythmic thumping of the headboard banging on the wall, and her incessant moans of pleasure. It's not that I want to listen, but what else can I do? There's nowhere for me to go! We are literally snowed in, and we're expected to be for another week.
I guess it's true, what my father once told me when I was a little kid and had my bike stolen right off my front lawn. "When you have nice things, there will always be people looking to take them from you."
But I never imagined someone so would blatantly steal her from me. I never imagined she'd succumb so willingly. And definitely not on our honeymoon, of all things!
"Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh FUCK!"
I'm hearing her cursing now along with the rhythm of their humping. The tell tale sign that he's bringing her to orgasm. I'm sure when they're done, they'll emerge a sweaty, satisfied mess, and probably barely regard me. And why should they? They already told me everything... how he snuck her out from under me.
I stare at the locked bedroom door and ponder the lead ball in my gut and the broken heart I'm nursing. I think of all my friends and family at home, wonderfully ignorant of what's happening out here... probably assuming that the two of us are having the time of our lives. Key number: two of us.
They didn't know there'd be an interloper. Us either.
Let me back up a bit...
***
"Is this it?" I asked. The driveway was barely marked. A rutted gravel road that snaked its way through the trees and up the hill.
"Losing your nerve?" Alex cocked her eyebrow. A teasing smile played across her lips as she sat behind the wheel of the Jeep, having taken over for the last half of the road trip. We hadn't seen another car for almost an hour.
"This is literally how all horror movies begin," I replied. Maine had a way about it that we both loved. But it was also scary rural at times. When you grew up in the suburbs, it's easy to forget how much of the United States is still undeveloped wilderness.
"How's that?" She asked, starting the Jeep up the bouncy unpaved driveway.
"We take a wrong turn and fall prey to hill people," I responded.
She shook her head. "Have you seen the forecast? If this turns into any horror movie, it'll be The Shining."
I had to concede her point. The midday clouds were low and dark, promising an early nightfall. All of the weather stations were predicting anywhere from 12 to 48 inches (quite the margin for error, but those clowns are never right anyway). My parents had practically begged us not to go, or to postpone the trip until Spring. But that wasn't really feasible. We'd booked the vacation almost a year ago and there was zero chance we'd get a refund if we bailed at this point. Plus, we'd procrastinated our honeymoon long enough. It had been almost a full year since we were married, and we'd gone nowhere special to celebrate. Wedding planning isn't exactly stress-free... or cheap, even on a budget.
Thankfully, I was blessed with a very practical and level-headed wife. Alex was a tomboy at heart, having grown up with three brothers in a small house. She played a lot of sports, wore minimal makeup, and could crack vulgar jokes and curse like a sailor when the mood struck. She could throw down beers at the bar after her games, bond over cars, and immediately call out her friends on their petty personal drama. She wasn't a passive-aggressive girl. If someone acted pouty around her, it was usually met with a "What's your problem?"
I was very different. I always thought I was in good shape until I met her. One of our first dates involved a rugged hike up a mountainous trail. I was huffing and puffing after only a hundred yards, while she was practically jogging in place, urging me on with comments like "Get tough, pussy." (She never meant it in a mean way, and we both clicked for sure with our sense of humor.)
Alex was also a very social girl. I was a bit of a loner-- monogamous to my comfort zones. Most of her activities involved other people-- drinking, parties, shenanigans, and discovering new places. The types of simple things that most people shied away from-- organizing get-togethers, Captaining sports teams, and asking bosses for raises, were the sorts of things that she didn't hesitate to do.
I'd like to say we were an odd couple, with my shy personality, but the truth was that I was pretty malleable, I was never bored, and she got me to come out of my shell and try new things. She was going to do them anyway... I was just the guy that she wanted to bring along for the ride.
...I'm getting off topic. She'd spent much of her youth in worn out sneakers, and skater-girl miniskirts. On the other hand (thanks to the efforts of her last boyfriend— who turned out to be gay), she had learned how to fancy herself up in cocktail dresses, high heels, and makeup. She could have taste... when she chose to. But the point I'm trying to make is that she didn't have grand aspirations for a wedding and honeymoon. Which is exactly why, a year after we said our vows, we found ourselves traveling through a rural and snowy part of Maine, to our own rented out "Cabin in the Woods."
So weather or no weather, there was no going back. We were both up for an adventure, and no amount of warnings from our family, or weather alerts would turn us back. I was never one for vacations that involved a lot of walking around and doing stuff anyway. So the thought of getting snowed in with a pretty girl for a week sounded heavenly— as long as the booze, food, and birth control held out. Plus, I always fancied myself a survivalist— one of those assholes with fantasies of surviving an apocalypse. ...Provided the venue is comfortable, and clean with plenty of hot water and electricity.
"Oh wow," she said as we swung around a curve and over the next rise, the cabin rose into view. Despite the desolate surroundings, the cabin was lit up, warm and inviting. There was a rustic charm to it, but we knew it was tricked out with modern amenities.
There were already a couple of cars in the driveway when we pulled in. One of them passed us, filled with younger guys, as it headed down the treacherous driveway to the main road.
"Told you, this is where we get murdered," I commented.
"We're early, moron," Alex rolled her eyes. Indeed, wanting to stay ahead of the impending storm, Alex and I called the venue owner in advance and voluntarily waived the maid service in favor of an early check in. It meant that we might have to clean up after the last guests, but for us, that was no big deal. A small price to pay to insure we didn't have to cancel our trip, lest we risk getting stuck on the drive up.
Judging from the lone red sports car that remained in the driveway, the last guests hadn't fully left yet.
"Somebody has money... and good taste," Alex noted about the car as she pulled alongside it.
"Somebody better hurry up, or they'll never make it out of here with that rear-wheel drive dick mobile," I said as I watched the first few flurries drift lazily down from the heavens.
"Look at you... pretending you know about cars," Alex smirked. This wasn't new to me. She often enjoyed teasing me over my lack of car knowledge, and loved to lord over me the fact that she knew stick shift and I didn't.
Alex dismounted, stretching her legs. Her jeans were especially tight around the hips, and I couldn't help but admire the way her ass filled them out. She tilted her mouth up toward the sky and as a snowflake wafted down, she caught it on her tongue and gave me a playful wink with a hint of sexuality behind it. What a little tease—
"Impressive," a voice said behind her, clapping slightly.
"Thank you," she bowed before even turning to see the person. When she did, her eyes widened ever-so-slightly.
He towered over both of us... at least 6'8" in height. Suddenly my 5'11" frame looked meager by comparison. He wasn't a grizzly bear of a man, but definitely proportional— broad shoulders, big arms, athletic build (probably played basketball in high school). Not lanky, but nothing in excess. And he was surprisingly good looking. Even I was taken aback. He was younger than us— I'd put him at 24 or 25, whereas I was 28 and Alex was 30. He had classic dark handsome features— short jet-black hair, dark piercing eyes, a scruff of five-o'clock shadow, and a bright easy grin. It was one of those casual smiles that told the story of a man who didn't take life seriously (probably to an infuriating degree, like that Stifler guy from the American Pie movies). He was well dressed— expensive jeans, a dark coat, turtle neck, immaculate sneakers.
His eyes went from Alex to me, then right back to Alex.
"I'm Brett," he shifted the duffle bags that were slung over his shoulder so he could extend his hand.
"Hi, I'm Alex," she said as she shook hands. Alex had long fingers, but her hand was totally engulfed in his enormous paw. "You are ridiculously tall," she said, unabashed— as is her way. Hardly any filter and just blurting out the kind of things that would create an awkward situation if I said them. Beautiful women always get free passes.
"These things happen," he replied in a no-big-deal way.
"Sean," I introduced myself with a smile, feeling a bit intimidated. I heard once that even men will become more submissive and subdued around a man who's taller than them. I couldn't help but notice immediately that I was feeling much less confident as he shook my hand with something big enough to palm a basketball.
