Love, Lies and Punishment (Part 7 of Series)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 45: The Fence
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 45: The Fence - The 7th story in my Infidelity series about how I cheated on my BF, got involved with the guy I cheated with for 6.5 months and what started as a mistake, became an affair and then slowly turned into my loss of self and degradation. This 7th story takes place about 7 weeks after I first cheated. Be sure to read the previous stories for this to make sense.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual True Story Cheating BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Rough Spanking Anal Sex Cream Pie Enema Exhibitionism Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Squirting Water Sports Public Sex
The music was a Latin beat, louder than the last time, and spicier.
“Theme night at Che Tyler,” I asked. “Should I be worried?”
“We do them every so often. Tonight is called heat, and it seems you already dressed for it.”
“I dressed for the exception. The heat is your problem.”
At the table I kissed him. “It is a bit cold for a November barbecue.”
“That is why there is a fire, wine, and a woman who keeps stealing the scene.” He handed me a glass. “Anything you need.”
“I asked if I could help.”
“You can stand there and let me look at you. That is all the help I need.”
“Tyrant.”
“Chef.”
We stood and talked and laughed. I kept thinking how natural it all was. I love him. The thought was useless, and it wouldn’t leave. Monday existed, but I set it on the far side of the fire and tried to ignore it.
A cough from the fence. Gary, leaning, big smile. “Hi, neighbor.”
“Gary. You remember Beth. My girl.”
I blushed. He had introduced me as his girl. I felt butterflies run through me, and the plug suddenly did not seem so out of place.
“We already met,” Gary said. “She was in the driveway with a bag I offered to help with, but she is the independent type, apparently.”
I blushed harder. The last dinner in the yard was something we all recognized what happened, and both of them knew it. Tyler and Gary talked sports, scores, a quarterback I could not have picked out of a lineup, while Gary looked at me in a way that had nothing to do with sports. I still found him repulsive. The story from the afternoon had softened the verdict without fixing the leer—his dead wife and sons who did not come to visit. The whole situation was extremely sad. Still, it was hard to feel much empathy for this man while his eyes were glued to my chest, as if the plunging neckline had been ordered for him.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Real beautiful. Last time I saw you, you were ... well. You look beautiful tonight too.”
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