Like most visitors to Literotica, I have a group of favorite authors and stories. One story that has interested me over the years was "Round Up" by K.K. I can't put my finger on the reason why. Maybe it is the semi-competitive nature of the story, and I consider myself a competitive guy. In any case, I had always hoped one day K.K. would introduce a follow-up to what happened to Mary and George Hanson.
Then, along comes "The Round Up -- Is Over!" written by Voluptuary Manque. When I began reading it, I had hoped that the story left off at the ending of K.K.'s original story with a similar plot line. The story, without giving away the plot, falls under the "wife is approached, the husband steps in to prevent a seduction, and then takes action upon those aiming to seduce" style of story.
I must compliment the writer on a very well written story. It was well thought out, and had a fairly solid tie-in with the original "The Round Up" story line. I encourage readers to look up both and enjoy a good read.
However, for someone who greatly enjoyed the first story, I have one word to describe my reaction after reading the sequel.
"Buzzkill."
There are many readers in this genre that greatly enjoy the "wife cheats, the husband observes, the husband plots revenge, the husband exacts revenge" subset of the genre. And those of you who enjoy it will enjoy the sequel if you haven't read it before.
One day, I thought, I'd write a story that was a different ending or revisit Mary and George in later years to provide my version of what I thought happened to their marriage. In re-reading both stories, I felt there were enough gaps where a prequel, second sequel or an in between could support both story lines while standing on its own. For example, the first story seemed to end where there was some stress between the couple but the husband thought what his wife did was pretty kinky. Then they are referenced in the sequel as having far more serious marital issues as a result of being part of the Round Up. Further, in the very first paragraph of the original "Round Up", K.K. makes reference to "the final chapter is still six weeks away on December 31." The original story actually ends six weeks before December 31. So there is I believe, a gap that I will humbly attempt to fill on the following pages...
My compliments to both writers, and in particular to K.K. for developing the original story line. I hope you enjoy my contribution to this story line as well.
Oh yeah, and comments welcomed. Unobjective nastiness will be deleted summarily.
**************************
INTRODUCTION
Sitting in my office late one night reviewing one of my staff's deal acquisition proposals, I heard the familiar ring tone from my mobile phone announcing the receipt of a message to one of my private accounts. Glancing at my mobile sitting on my credenza, I sighed and said to myself, "I'm so tired of reading investment proposals for these ridiculous green schemes. Biggest scam of the century. A lot like the dot com crap in the late 1990s and I guess we'll never learn......"
Leaning back in my chair to stretch my legs and back, I reached over to retrieve my mobile. Clicking on the text icon, I saw I had a message. Kind of late for a text with no name..... Clicking again, I looked at the screen. After a quick glance at the letters on the screen that I couldn't read, I sat forward and rubbed my eyes with my free hand so that I could better focus.
"2100 9-19 R"
"Hmmmmmmmm," I said quietly.
Spinning around in my chair, I logged backed into one of my three workstations that tracked my calendar. I quickly tapped at the keyboard to make the appropriate note and then just as quickly logged off. It was around 1015pm, and I once again leaned back in my chair, this time stretching my legs and arms out. Trying unsuccessfully to suppress a loud yawn, I gazed out from my corner office on the 47th floor at the beautiful sight of San Francisco Bay at night. The twinkling lights of cars driving across the San Francisco Bay Bridge, the shimmering light of large boats maneuvering to the harbor docks across the bay, and the lights from the not so distant Oakland and Berkley indicated a very beautiful night indeed.
"Well, this is interesting...." I said quietly. Sighing, I spun back around in my chair. Leaning back again away from the lights of the city, I closed my eyes thinking back, what was it? Twelve years ago? Or was it eight?
"I'll be damned; they really did invite me back. Indeed this could be very interesting again," as my mind took me back over a decade ago.......
CHAPTER 1
My name is Eric Monteon, and I'm senior partner of a small boutique investment banking firm based in San Francisco. Those of you who are familiar with investment banking in the Bay area that fund start-up technology oriented companies could probably call me a "venture capitalist", but everyone in the Bay area is a venture capitalist, and I like to separate myself. Our firm is all of fifteen people. Fifteen very smart people who have made a lot of money for themselves and built more than a few dreams into very real success stories for thousands of others.
I'm 43 years old, too busy to be married although I once was, and live in a large condominium on Nob Hill which is a very upscale section on the north side of the San Francisco peninsula. My work consumes much of my time, and "activities" where I can blow off some steam occurs through my involvement with a group takes up the rest.
When I was promoted to partner at the young age of 28, along with the partnership and wealth that came with it, was membership in a, let's call it a "group" of men who enjoy living life to its fullest. The group numbered about 75 individuals who lived primarily on the west coast of the United States, but also maintained residences in other parts of the world. All very wealthy and successful, and looking for more fun than a round of 18 at Pebble Beach, or a bridge tournament at the country club with Muffy, Buffy and Biff.
During the years following my promotion, I completed many transactions and began to make a bit of a name for myself in our little closed world of investment banking. When I was fortunate enough to get a break between transactions, I took part in some of the high adventure activities that were available to some of the newer members in the little "group". My favorite was the Paris to Dakar road rally. I was part of a car team in 1998 that drove a car in a rally that began in Paris, France, routed through Granada, Spain, and then completed in Dakar, Senegal. The route in Europe was modestly challenging due to the mountains that separated Spain and France. However, driving through the eastern part of the Sahara desert through incredibly desolate parts of Morocco, Mali and Mauritania was a thrill every minute of the day. There were other types of activities of similar quality that I greatly enjoyed beyond the road racing. But they were fleeting at best.
In the early autumn of perhaps my third or fourth year as a member, I received a typewritten note in a Federal Express package with no return address one morning at my office. The small piece of paper had the following typed on it: "2100 9-22 R".
Well from my previous activities, I figured that this was from the group. I also knew that there was an activity meeting scheduled at 9pm on September 22, but I had no idea what the letter "R" meant. As an example, the road rally code I learned shortly after I joined was "D", for Dakar. I hadn't heard of an "R" before. I was between transactions, so I figured I would attend the meeting to learn what this activity was.
CHAPTER 2
Mid afternoon on September 22 back in 1998, I headed to an airfield in Marin County north of San Francisco. I had made arrangements to hitch a ride with one of the other members on their Lear for the flight to a small airport in western Montana. We talked casually during the flight and enjoyed a cocktail or two. Arriving in Montana, we were greeted by a driver in a large SUV. Our bags were loaded, and we were whisked away to one of the group's properties about 50 miles west of a small city in the southern part of the state.
The property had been a working ranch many decades earlier, but had fallen into disrepair. Our group picked it up in the early 1970s as an investment and transformed it into a very upscale lodge with about fifty guest rooms in the main building with smaller villas surrounding it. After arriving and freshening up, the forty or so members that were present gathered at the bar before dinner for cocktails.
Looking around the impressively constructed barroom with high ceilings and expensive wood detailing, I noticed that those in attendance was a cross section of new and kind of older members. The attendees were generally between 30 and 50 with a few older and a few younger. I had met most of the members at one event or another, and recognized two that became members at about the time I did. It was a gathering of an impressive group of men who had accomplished much in their lives but generally lived below the radar.
I moved over to two of the members who came into the group with me a few years back. Dale said, "Hello Eric, great to see you again. How is business treating you?" "I'm doing well Dale, glad to see you as well. We had a blast in Africa last year, and I'm looking forward to whatever new adventure they have cooked up for us," I replied. James nodded to me, "Eric, good to see you. Nice acquisition you made of that shipping company. I think you're going to do very well with that investment." And so the light conversation oriented toward business we were involved in continued for some time.
As the drinks flowed, so did the egos. Boasting of deals, boardroom coups, and accomplishment in group sponsored activities was obligatory for many. Trying to steer the conversation in another direction, in the growing small group that I was part of, I asked what "R" was. Two other men who ambled over had not heard of it before, but two of the more senior members chuckled and looked away. They told us that we would have to wait, but it would be certainly intriguing.
After much laughter, we were served a wonderful dinner in a long elegantly decorated dining room. The room reminded me in some ways, of the room where the Knights of the Round Table met. However we were a millennium, ocean and good part of a continent away from that.