Notes to readers:
After reading your comments and private emails, I thought long and hard about the scenario and the players in this last chapter, and how to continue the story arc in a credible way. Pete is the kind of a guy who would willingly give you the shirt off your back, if you needed it. Quick to forgive, a gentile giant. The thing about guys like Pete is they do not forgive twice. NaΓ―ve, not stupid. I really love the positive comments (obviously) and the helpful criticism. Thanks for reading, thanks for taking the time to comment. A double thanks to my female readers! You girls rock! I hope you all have fun.
This story contains cheating, bondage, abuse, discovery, redemption, rough sex, group sex, humiliation.
Part 3
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"I'll bet she fucks her boytoy before the weekend's over" Tony said, a little cynically I thought.
"She's going to cage you, tie you up, I'd bet." Tony added. "Make you watch her get fucked again. This time, you won't be allowed to stop him."
Denny, a trainer I worked with most because he had a similar build, height, and later to the amusement of all, the same buzzed haircut as me, said to Tony (Not just a little annoyed, too) "Dude! That's his wife! Show a little class!".
I must have looked shocked. Max gestured Tony to silence.
Max said "If she's determined to cuck you, her boyfriend will be there. But, this time he won't take any chances, and will have convinced her to take precautions."
"Precautions? Like what?" I asked, in genuine puzzlement.
"He's a control freak." Max explained.
"He might make her put on a chastity device, a cock cage, that will prevent you from getting an erection, in a painful way too. Remember, last time? You fucked her in front of him, then kicked him out. Cucks are not allowed to do that. If he's still around, he'll insist you are caged, and maybe bound, before she's allowed to fuck him again." Max explained.
"Why would I agree to that?" I asked honestly puzzled. "Why would she?" Tony smirked.
"Who knows. Love makes us do crazy things. Or, maybe you wont?" He offered. "I hope it works out, but let's have a plan just in case."
Max had me show him on a map where the lodge was, and what cabin we were staying in. Then, he took my phone and entered in a number; suddenly I heard several phones nearby ring, including his. "This is our group number, if you need help just redial, we'll be close."
I took my phone back, and thanked them, but I honestly believed they were over reacting.
"Good luck, try to have a good time!" Max said.
The day was beautiful, perfect weather. I wore my favorite patriotic golf shirt, Zoe never liked it's flashy colors but today she said it looked great on me. Zoe wore a thin sundress that really showed off her curves. She looked fantastic. We drove along the mountain roads, stopping at overlooks and small local stands for fruit and novelties. Around 5pm, we made it to the lodge and I was genuinely excited to see so many classic American muscle cars, Mustangs, Chargers, Corvettes, and the like in vintage pastel colors. The music was perfect for the period and inside the lodge people were dressed in vintage clothes, blue jeans and poodle skirts, dancing in socks or barefoot. Zoe dragged me onto the dance floor and we danced and laughed. Later, we made a round of the wine tasting, and even though Zoe was being the prefect wife, this one vendor, a knockout beautiful red-headed Irish girl caught my eye. She was pouring a deep red vintage from a nearby vineyard. As she handed it to me, our hands touched for a moment, and then our eyes met. It was just a second or two, but it felt electric to me, as she smiled and started to talk, then Zoe moved between us and I fell back to reality. I don't know why that moment felt different, like I was living a dream and almost woke up.
I did notice something odd, there were two or three men here that didn't fit in. Unlike the rugged locals, they had skin fresh from a facial, perfectly groomed hair, they wore chinos or Bermuda shorts that were new looking or freshly pressed. New shirts, and brooks brother penny loafers. Like Mannequins in a department store, almost life-like.
"Salesmen" I thought to myself. They looked uncomfortable at the party, and impatient. I guessed they were from Zoe's place of business, they seemed to try to stay out of sight, but were ogling the women that may have fit Zoe's description. Rafe was a salesman, I thought.
That was a red flag.