Chapter 2

When I got back from sailing, tired and thirsty there was message on my phone from Greg.

"Hey buddy, how are you holding up? Hear there is trouble in paradise. Care to talk about it? Give me a call.

I was conflicted. Greg is a great friend but I'm also 99.9999 percent sure that he cuckolds me with my wife. Well let's see what he has to say I thought as I dialed his number.

"Hey Greg, it's Peter. You called"

"Peter, sorry about that business with Monique. How are you holding up?"

"To be honest, not very well. Obviously she talked to you. How much did she tell you?"

Not a whole lot, just that you caught her with a guy at your home and that you left in a huff without ever saying a single word to her. (chuckles) I hear through the grapevine that it was Harry and that you threw him bare assed out onto the front lawn. Couldn't happen to a "nicer" guy. Say, are you going to do anything about the scum ball?

"Don't know yet Greg, all depends how things shake out between Monique and me."

"Say good buddy are you up for golf on Wednesday, should be really nice weather?"

"Yeah, I'll play if you change our regular tee time to 12: 30 or 1 PM. Maybe we've lunch first say around 11:30. It will take me that long to get to the club from the lake." Just promise me that you won't tell Monique that we are playing. I don't want her to ambush me at the club. I'm not ready to face her"

"You got it, Peter ... eh ... not quite sure ... Oh hell, I'll just come out with it. You know that I've been sleeping with her from time to time? She said that you knew about it. That it was part of your kinky games."

"Greg, I guessed that she was doing it. She never openly cuckolded me. So "officially" I did not know about it. But you made a couple of comments a while back that made me suspect. Also she behaved differently around you then the other guys when we all were at a party. More flirty. But she's never rubbed my nose into it, so it never really became an issue until that day..."

"I hear you my friend. I hope you don't hold it against me. She's one hot...

"Yea, I know. I don't blame you. She probable came on to you just like she snared me way back in college. When Monique wants something..." Anyway, we can talk some more on Wednesday. Tell the guy at the pro shop to keep us as a twosome – no others. Shouldn't be problem. All the doctors are off the course by lunchtime (chuckles). I want to bounce some ideas off you regarding the slime ball and really don't need any company. Also, no bets this round. My mind may not be too much focused on the game..."

"Shit, Peter there I thought I finally could get some of my money back from you. Look take care of yourself. Say is it OK for me to just tell her that I talked to you and that you're OK, at least from a physical point of view or do you want her to "sweat?"

"No, go ahead you can tell her that much. If she asks if we are playing on Wednesday, tell her I don't know what, just not that I'll be at the club."

OK, you got it, it's the least I can do for you since you won't "rip me a new one" for sleeping with your wife. See you Wednesday around 11:30. I'll try to be there a bit early and snag a far off table for us. Just ask Cindy where I am. Bye"

"Bye Greg, 'till Wednesday"

Wednesday – the perfect 10 golf day. Seventy degrees, partly cloudy and a very light breeze out of the west.

I met Greg in the casual restaurant at the club. Well casual still meant no shorts for the guys or ladies. He had snared a booth at the far end and we had plenty of privacy except for the couple of times our waitress came around. We both ordered a draft beer and bison burger. Greg's came with cheese while I had mushrooms and bacon.

While eating, he told me that Monique was moping around the house and not really doing much.

"I tried to invite her out to dinner the day we talked on the phone – just dinner not getting into her pants" came the response to my raised eye brows.

I grinned – I know good buddy, just need to mess with your head a bit. Even though I'm all screwed up, I still want to beat you.

"Anyway, She said no thanks. Wasn't in the mood for company."

After that, we kicked some ideas around of what to do about slime ball Harry but came to no conclusion. I decided to put him on the back burner until my situation with Monique was resolved one way or the other.

At the end of the day, we both had a pretty good round and the first time ever we had the same score of 80. Good for Greg, but not up to my normal standards. But it really did not matter while playing I forgot about my troubles for a while and that was worth it. Like they say "a bad day at golf beats a good day at office any time".

After our round we headed to the bar for a couple of "transfusions" before heading to the showers. As we were ready to go, Greg slipped my an envelope...

"Here, you may want this before going to the showers"

... and quickly took off.

I stared at the envelope as if it was one of those that showed up at the post offices after 9/11 with anthrax. Finally I got my wits together asked the bar tender for a glass of water and found a table in the back corner so that I could open it.

There it was, a letter from Monique and the key to my CB.

My Darling Peter,

here I am again apologizing for what happened last Friday. After talking to Greg, I think I understand what set you off.

I was going to use the key to force you to confront me and to talk to me but then had second thoughts. I know that you love me, and that I have hurt you terribly. I believe that you are an honorable man and eventually give me a chance to explain. Not that there really is that much to explain. I'm sure you have a pretty good idea.

Please believe me when I say that I never meant to disrespect you in any form or ways. There is right now a great big hole in my heart and I believe the same is true for you.

I will gladly give you all the space and time you need figuring out what to do next. I promise that I will stay away if you decide to go back to work next week when our "vacation" is supposed to be over until you are ready to talk to me. Like I said I trust you that eventually you will talk to me. I pray every day that you will find a way for us to fix this as I miss you with every fiber in my body.

Be well my darling Peter. Hopefully you will find it in your heart to let me know that you are OK in a physical sense like you did the other day when you talked to Greg. I really, really appreciated that.

You guessed by now that I weaseled it out of him, in spite of his promise to you, that you were playing golf today. Please don't be angry with him and it gave me just a little bit of a lift knowing that I can still beguile a man. So maybe the day we meet, I can also work my charms on you.

I hope that in a small way, you'll give me credit for fighting my impulses and urges to ambush you at the club.

With all my love from one broken heart to the other

Your Loving Wife Monique

My eyes misted over as I fondled the key and read the letter a second and third time.

Oh how I loved this woman. Why did She do what She did?

Well I'm going to stay firm for now and with that thought I headed for the showers, stopping at the toilets and after entering the stall removed my CB. After more than three weeks, it felt kind of strange not having it on. Should I jerk off right here and now? Several guys entered the toilet area and I decided to just stick it into my pocket and head for the showers after undressing by my locker.

Greg was already getting dressed as I got there.

"You OK?"

He asked with a bit of concern in his voice letting me know that he had no idea what was in the letter itself. But I'm sure he knew about the key.

"Yeah, thanks. Please tell Monique "thank you" and that I'll e-mail her some stuff by the weekend. You can also let her know that I'll be in the office on Monday."

"Hey I had great time today even if I did not beat you (grin) but at least I didn't give you the satisfaction of beating me because I would have never heard the end of that. I'm going to be busy after I get back to the office. I'll let you know on Tuesday if I can get away on Wednesday morning for our regular scheduled tee time"

"Sounds good Peter. I'll get the message to Monique as soon as I get home. May be I can coax her out and go to dinner with me. (wry grin) I know I'm not going to get into her pants – at least not until you two sort things out. Call me if you need anything or just want to talk some more."

With that he left and I headed to showers with my head full of conflicting emotions. One of them was to just go home and see where the chips fell but then I dismissed that thought. No better stick to the plan, get all your ducks in a row so that you know what you want out of this relationship.

By the time I was clean and dressed, I was hungry. There really was nothing along the way to the lake other than some greasy spoons or MD's and it would be too late to start cooking once I got there. So I decided to go back to casual restaurant but opted to sit at the bar and eat. I ordered some fish and chips – yeah still greasy but at least I could be reasonably sure that the kitchen was cleaner than anything along the highway and a Yuengling. I know fish and chips and a German style beer, but I just don't like Guinness.

After eating I got into my car and drove back to the lake, looking forward to sitting on the back deck with my pipe and contemplating some more Monique's letter.

That night was the first one with completely untroubled and restful sleep since the whole mess got started. I had a light breakfast, went for a run and upon my return called the office to check on things. As expected things were running pretty smoothly. I told my PA that I would be back on Monday and meanwhile one of the research guys should look into every aspect of Harry ... business and personal life.

"I expect at least an interim report to be on my desk on Monday"

After wishing her a great rest of the week and weekend, I hung up to head for the shower but as I looked out the window, I realized that a nice breeze had sprung up between the time I came in from my run and the end of the telephone conversation. Screw the shower, time to go sailing. I don't do that often enough.

As I was on my boat scooting along on a broad reach across the widest part of the lake, I decided that I would go racing on Saturday and Sunday if there was a nice breeze. I admit it, I'm a "fair weather sailor". I just hate to sit in a drifter constantly looking for ripples on the water trying to figure out where the next puff of wind is coming from. On the other hand, give me a good stiff breeze forcing you hike out and spray hitting you – well that is my kind of sailing and racing. Better call Jack, a kid living on the other side of the lake to make sure he was available to crew for me.

I can handle the boat alone but club rules say that if the boat has a jib, you need a crew during racing.

When I got back from sailing, I had a late lunch and took a nap. Hmm, maybe I have something here. I could get used to this. Maybe I should make more of an effort to train a replacement, take early retirement or at least cut back during the summers to a couple of days a week and spend more time up here. It would be great to have the time to restore that old wooden M-Scow that is sitting in the barn across from the main road that passes by the lake.

Wonder what Monique would think of that? Oh yeah, Monique and what to do about her...

With that thought, I fired up my lap top and started to compose an e-mail to her.

Dearest Monique,

I was truly touched by your thoughtful letter and giving me the key to my CB. Thank you very much.

I guess we are in a bit of a mess. I really don't have the words to describe the feeling when I caught the two of you last Friday afternoon. Let it suffice that it took a great amount of restraint not to hurt that bastard more than I did. The trouble is no matter what I would have done to him, it would not have soothed the pain in my heart because you were a willing participant.

You said something that fateful day that struck a chord.

You said - "I guess I was wrong in viewing cuckolding you in MY house as just a natural extension of our Domme/sub relationship."

Yes, it is YOUR house but it was OUR home. Do you see the difference? I hope you do because if you don't then I see no hope for us.

I don't know for sure if it would have been different, had you been open with your cuckolding me. You know Greg confessed that has been sleeping with you and I guess you fed him a bit of "white lie" by telling him that I was OK with it. We never talked about you taking lovers.

Maybe that is part of the problem – a failure to communicate. I guess I'm partly to blame for that. Maybe I should spoken up after you fed me your first cream pie at the BDSM club. But after having been tied up for who knows how long without sight or sound other than that damn white noise from the ear phones, I was so deep into sub space that it probably did not register properly. And all that incredibly hot sex after we got home from the club further dulled my memories. It made me feel secure and loved and at that moment it did not matter that you had sex with some other guy.

But in OUR home...

Yes the failure to communicate. Because if we had talked about cuckolding – and I understand in some way that you look at it as an extension of our Domme/sub relationship – I would have told you that while I did not like it, I could accept it with enough assurances in words and action from your side that the love you feel for me is not effected by it. However, I would have told you that doing it in OUR home would not be acceptable. A man, even a "perv" submissive like me needs to maintain some self respect. A man's home is his castle even if it belongs to his Queen.

As I'm typing this I can just visualize Her – My Queen

I continue to type...