The Hotwife Cruise: Cassandra 6

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I'm going to apologize at the top here for what I'm about to leave you with before the weekend. But this is already a hefty two chapters, leading to a moment that I've been so excited to write, and it didn't seem right to chop it off earlier.

Also, these two chapters feature a few characters from other Hotwife Cruise stories. I'll leave the references at the bottom.

Chapter 9

The next morning, Austin felt like all of the water had been sucked out of his face. He also had a wicked headache. It was also close to 11 and he was alone in his cabin.

“What the hell happened?”

He turned, sat up on the edge of the bed. Even that simple movement felt sluggish and slow. Everything was an effort.

Then he remembered the “something extra”—the Molly, his first ever experience with drugs.

And then he remembered all of this rest.

“Oh, fuck.” He buried his head in his hands as images flitted by. He remembered Cassandra, had a vague memory of telling her that he loved her, of confessing that thing where he watched her creepily from his office window, and… 

The kiss. 

He touched his lips. He remembered liking it, but maybe that was just the drugs. Why had he done that? And what the hell was he going to tell Faye? And where was she anyway?

He picked up his phone, but it was dead. It didn’t even turn on when he plugged it in, and he realized that he’d had it in his pants pocket when they’d gotten into the hot tub.

Oh, God, the hot tub. Wherever it seemed like he’d reached a low point in his embarrassment, he remembered another thing. There had been others there last night. A woman that he’d also kissed right in front of Cassandra. So now he’d gone from betraying one woman to two.

And realizing that he’d potentially hurt Cassie somehow hit him harder. 

Giving up on his phone, he twisted open a bottle of water, chugged half of it, and went in search of some Advil. His stomach grumbled. He was hungry… and needed a shower… and needed to find Faye. For a moment, he stood in the center of the room, overwhelmed and full of regrets that he couldn’t even name.

Then he walked out onto his balcony, sat with the water, and watched the endless blue horizon. It should have felt freeing, open, vast. Instead, Austin just felt so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, moved by forces that he couldn’t control, his fate already predetermined.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Austin was aware that his thoughts had something to do with the come down from the MDMA, that he’d emptied his cup of euphoria last night, and was drained of it now. But that wasn’t the only thing happening here. At the moment he was just too overwhelmed to figure it all out.

Eventually, though, he had to leave the room. He took a shower, which helped somewhat. Dressed in a pair of shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, he ventured out of the room. With his phone busted, he couldn’t text Faye, so he went in search of her.

And immediately got lost.

He was hopeless with directions, and spent about fifteen minutes wandering the corridors before even making it out into daylight. It was a beautiful day—a day at sea, if he remembered, heading towards the Virgin Islands. All around him were couples doing normal, couple things. He could almost fool himself into thinking this was any other cruise.

Almost, anyway. The bikinis by the pools were smaller. There was still a sizzle in the way everyone looked at each other. Women walking by gave him a once over and a wink. A few even ran their hands across his broad shoulders.

Without a real destination, he just wandered—hoping to find Faye, worried that he’d run into Cassandra. He found something called the Explorer’s Lounge, which felt like it was lifted out of Adventureland in Disney’s Magic Kingdom. Except for the couple making out in one of the cozy nooks as another man watched from across their table.

But the place had food, and it was nearly lunchtime. And while he needed to find his wife, he needed to eat even more.

He was keenly aware that he was the only guy who was single in the whole lounge. Everyone was either coupled up or in a group. Some women were with their husbands, who almost universally seemed to cling to their wives, reveling in the connection. Others were with bulls, most of whom were fit, confident, and having the best time of their lives.

All of it made Austin’s food taste like sawdust. He chewed and swallowed and wandered away, needing to find fresh air again.

He found the entrance to the spa, wondering if Faye may be in there. Not that he could go barging in. He did wait around at the entrance on the off-chance that she’d emerge. A flyer was hung on the bulletin board, announcing yoga classes held on the Horizon Dec, every morning at 7. That seemed optimistic for a cruise like this, but to each their own.

He finally tracked Faye down at the Mermaid Cove, the pool with the swim-up bar. Of course.

She was on a lounger, her top untied, as a man wearing a lifeguard’s red Speedos rubbed sunscreen into her skin. With her sunglasses on, Austin wasn’t even sure that she saw him as he approached.

Apparently she did, rising up onto her arms enough to flash the side of her breasts. “There you are,” she said. Turning to the lifeguard, she said, “Thanks, Mike. My husband can finish now.”

“I really don’t mind,” the bronzed and muscled lifeguard said. “I’m all about skin safety.”

Faye laughed. “I’m sure you are. When’s your next break?”

“Whenever you want.”

“The staff on this ship is very accommodating,” Faye said to Austin.

When Lifeguard Mike rose, Austin couldn’t miss the bulge in the man’s red speedo. Mike seemed to notice him looking and winked. “Your wife’s got great skin, bro.” With that, he dove into the pool, cutting through the sparkling water, and was gone.

Faye handed the bottle of lotion to Austin, who sat at the edge of the lounge chair and began to work it into her skin. “You got in late last night,” she said as she settled back onto the lounger.

“Yeah, I… I really don’t remember much.” His kiss with Cassandra and that brunette jolted through his brain. But he really didn’t remember much. Like, he had no idea how he got back to the room. “Did I… did I say anything when I got home?”

Faye snorted. “You kept telling me how much you loved me. How many of those special drinks did you have?”

“One, I think?”

“My sweet, sweet lightweight.”

That rubbed him the wrong way. A little empathy couldn’t kill her—

“Why didn’t you respond to any of my texts?” she asked.

“Oh, right. I think I fried my phone. It got soaked.”

She turned her head to look up at him, and he could just see her eyes through the dark lenses of her glasses. “So that’s why you were all wet last night. And you just jumped into a pool with your clothes on? What are you, twenty?”

“It wasn’t a pool, exactly,” he said, feeling the itch of embarrassment along his neck. Embarrassment and something more.

“I knew that I shouldn’t have left you alone…”

“I mean, probably not? I was high. For the first time.” This was not like Austin, and yet once he started to speak, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Surrounded by horny, available women. You’re lucky that my phone and clothes were the only things that got wet.”

Faye’s mouth actually dropped open. He was glad that he couldn’t see her eyes fully, and the longer she stared at him without speaking, the more sweat began to build up under his shirt. He was about to apologize when an announcement came on over the speakers around them.

“Greetings, cruisers. This is Felicity Jones, your Cruise Director. For tonight, we have a surprise announcement. There has been a slight change in our entertainment program for the evening. The Fischer String Quartet, that did such a great show on our first day at sea, has changed their program. They are going to feature sensual music to get us all in the mood. And, they have made a special request. They want everyone to come in their slinkiest attire. They will do the same.”

The people around the pool started to buzz with excitement.

“The Captain has agreed to allow lingerie wear, if that is your choice, though he reminds us that full nudity remains banned in public spaces. Enjoy the show!”

“Please tie my top,” Faye said, settling her head back down onto her hands. “I think I need to take a dip in the pool.”

Austin almost refused, but his suddenly rebellious spirit caught on the wind and blew away. He tied the string bikini top. Only then did he realize how tiny the pale blue suit was. “Is this new?” he asked, running his fingers along the thong back.

“Oh, you noticed,” she said. “Surprised you could take your eyes off of all these other horny, available women.”

“C’mon, Faye, you know what I meant.”

Bikini top tied, she sat up and turned, placing a hand on his face. Her touch was firm. Not a slap, but for Austin it landed like one. “I know that I’m going to need to keep my eye on you from now on.”

Austin nodded, thinking one last time of Cassandra. That was fair. Mostly.

*****

“Oh, God… oh, my God!” Faye was bouncing on Mike Johnson’s cock. They were on the two-person sofa in the cabin that Faye shared with Austin. Faye was even now straddling the lifeguard, facing away. Facing her husband. She still wore her pale blue bikini top, although Mike had pulled the cups down and was twisting and tweaking her long and swollen nipples. Faye hates when I do that, Austin thought sourly. But of course with Mike, she was cooing and moaning. 

“He’s so fucking big!”

That was directed at Austin, who was positioned in the desk chair across the small room from them. She wasn’t wrong. Mike Johnson certainly had a big johnson. He’d watched Faye slobber all over it when they’d come back to the room, kneeling on the floor, teasing Austin with her thong bikini bottoms.

Austin knew the drill. They’d done this before—taken a man back to their hotel room to have some fun. As with all of those other times, Faye’s actions made Austin both uncomfortable and aroused. So aroused. He wasn’t permitted to play with himself, not yet, so he just sat there in his chair, still fully clothed, and watched as Faye rode the bronzed bull, all the while pinning her husband with her stare.

“Does this turn you on, baby?” she asked, her electric blue eyes boring into him.

“Yes.”

“You like seeing a real man take your wife?”

He didn’t answer. He wouldn’t answer. As much as he liked watching his bride play, lately, her frequent attempts at emasculation had begun to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“His dick feels so… ohhh… big!”

Her bikini bottoms were long gone, giving Austin an unobstructed view of Mike’s fat dick spreading open Faye’s compact pussy, the narrow dart of hair on her mound pointing to the adulterous sight like a taunt.

“Maybe more like you’re so tight,” Mike said. He lifted her off of him, muscles straining, and turned her to face him. She happily climbed back on, guiding his dick back into her. This time, they started to kiss as they fucked. Austin’s cheeks burned. His angst grew.

“You can play with yourself,” Faye said. “But no coming.”

Austin heard Mike chuckle. His cheeks burned brighter. But the shame was not enough to stop him from running his fingers over the bulge in his shorts. He wasn’t going to get naked in front of the bull. His fingers on either side of his shaft felt just fine.

Mike pulled on the ties that held Faye’s thong on, tossing the scrap of cloth away so he could fully grope her tight little butt.

“Oh, Austin, he’s going so deep!”

“You like that, don’t you?” Mike said. There was an edge to his voice. He was getting close too.

“I love it. Love it when guys do things that Austin over there never could.”

Her words stung. Once, maybe that was what he wanted—the sting, that cuckold pain. She might say these things, but she didn’t really mean them.

Only maybe she did. Only maybe this wasn’t a kinky game to get them closer.

Mike saw Austin’s expression change. “Uh oh, looks like you hit a nerve.”

Faye looked back and winked. “He’s good,” she said. “He likes it. He likes seeing me satisfied.”

How would you know, Faye? he thought to himself. When was the last time you checked in with how I’m feeling about things, instead of just assuming that a stiff cock is proof enough that everything is a-ok?

“Then let’s make sure you’re satisfied!” the lifeguard crowed.

With strength that Austin never would have, Mike stood, lifted Faye up, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and carried her to the bed. Without ever letting her go, he set her down and continued to fuck her, this time from above.

Austin watched the cords of the man’s back muscles work, flexing and shifting as he pounded Faye. His wife lost it, moaning hard, begging for Mike’s come.

It was still exciting to watch. Austin was still hard the whole time. But the thrill, the adrenalin rush, were both muted, the way it felt to jerk off like this through his shorts. The pow wasn’t there. The umph had gone out.

Mike pulled out of Faye before he came, grabbing her by the hair and shoving his dick into her mouth and down her throat. Austin gasped at the aggression, but Faye didn’t struggle. Instead, she sucked away, touching herself as she swallowed Mike’s load.

“Fuck, I love my job,” Mike growled as he stood back in all of his naked glory. He was completely bronzed, not even a tan line.

Faye propped herself on her elbows, lifted her legs and stroked his flaccid cock with her feet. “You are very good at it. Want to go to that kinky orchestral show with me?”

Not ‘us,’ Austin noted. ‘Me.’

“Not really my kind of music, but I wouldn’t mind the eye candy.”

Mike started to harden again as she stroked him with her toes. “Then it’s a date. I’m not done with you.”

Austin cleared his throat. Faye looked over, as if remembering him for the first time in a long while.

“Oh, you’ll come, too. Having you watching is almost half of the fun.” She turned back to Mike. “Now, let’s see if we can get that dick back up, shall we?”

Chapter 10

The Grand Stage was alive. Champagne was being passed on trays by servers wearing very little—both men and women. The atmosphere was that of a gala, yet the dress code was closer to that of a Victoria’s Secret runway show.

Cassandra thought that she’d be underdressed in her lacy black camisole. Not only did it barely reach the top of her thighs, but it was transparent enough that her black thong was readily visible. She needn’t have worried. Some women wore nothing but a bra and panties—one brunette forewent even the bra, opted for a pair of pasties that covered a pair of tits almost as perfect as her own.

“I’m getting some ideas for next year’s Christmas party,” Marshall said. He looked dapper in the black George Cleverley brogue boots she had gotten him for Christmas, his favorite tight black Brioni trousers, and to top it off, a crisp blue Tom Ford shirt, untucked and with three buttons open.

“I don’t think that most of our social group would go along with those ideas, honey,” Cassandra said with a laugh.

Marshall’s eyes sifted through the crowd. Cassandra wasn’t sure if he was checking out all the skin, or looking for someone for her. “Then we should change our social circle.”

“But then who will I exchange baking tips with if I didn’t have Alyssa Stevens?”

“Then you’ll have to initiate Alyssa into the lifestyle. I bet she’d be fun.”

“She’s the head lector at St. Patrick’s!”

“It’s the quiet ones that are the most fun.” He turned to her. “Remember how you were when we first met?”

Cassandra peered sideways up at her husband. “Feels like a lifetime ago…”

Just then, the Fischer String Quartet filed in, and the room quieted down. She’d missed the first night’s performance, although had heard enough buzz about the talented musicians that she was looking forward to this. What she wasn’t prepared for was how attractive they all were.

Two men, two women. The men were good looking, dressed in black shirts and slacks. The violinist had a nervous intensity about him that reminded her of Austin, despite having longer, dark brown hair and brown eyes. The cellist was an attractive black guy with soft, friendly eyes and a confident, yet easy-going, stride. She liked their look, but it was the women who stole the show.

The violist, a sexy Asian woman, was, for all intents and purposes, naked. She wore a bodysuit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, conforming to her perky breasts, her narrow hips, her runner’s legs. It didn’t even hide the fact that her slit was as bare as Cassandra’s.

The other violinist was a stunning brunette who seemed to feed off the energy of the crowd. She rocked a tight red babydoll that barely contained her full breasts and sexy body. When her eyes met Cassandra’s, though, Cassandra understood her immediately—the two were alike, both liking the attention while not being entirely comfortable with it.

As they began to play, Marshall slipped up behind her, hugging her close. “So who would you fuck,” he murmured in her ear, “if you could have any of them?”

“The cellist,” she said, watching the man’s strong fingers work the strings. “But I’d take any of them.”

The brunette violinist—Ginette Fischer, according to the program—took center stage, seeming to hit her stride as she worked through the sensual music. These four weren’t just sexy eye-candy. This wasn’t a gimmick. This group could play, and for a few moments, Cassandra was transported away from all the anxiety that she’d been carrying around.

She wasn’t alone. The crowd was riveted. Even Marshall, horny and sex-focused as he was, seemed moved. The quartet finished their set with a slow and sensual piece that epitomized the night—couples cuddled up, eyes met furtively across the room, everyone’s hearts started beating just a little faster. Marshall hadn’t released her, and started kissing her on her neck as the brunette finished off her piece.

That’s when she saw Austin on the opposite side of the stage. He was alone, but unlike everyone else who was staring at the stage, his gaze was fixed on another couple. The woman with the short bob of blond hair must be his wife, and the large, tanned guy behind her, her bull.

Almost as if he sensed Cassandra’s eyes on him, Austin looked her way. Their eyes met for the briefest of skin-prickling, breath-catching moments before she quickly averted her gaze, her face flushing deep red and her breathing suddenly shallow.

“Yeah, that was something,” Marshall said, assuming her reaction was to the music.

She turned further away from Austin and forced a smile. “Yeah, they were amazing,” she said softly. He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I’d do the brunette.”

Marshall laughed. “Maybe later. Tonight, you’re getting a cock, and I’m going to watch.”

Her response was automatic, requiring no thought at all. “Yes, sir.”

When he kissed her a second time, it was deeper, more forceful. More insistent. It was a kiss to say, You may be fucking someone else, but you are not his.

Her thoughts flashed unbidden back to the kiss she had shared with Austin the previous night. Every bit as intense, but not domineering. In no way possessive. And yet for all that, the kiss, the feel of her old beau had tugged at her, drawn her, in ways that she suddenly realized Marshall’s heavy-handed control games had failed to do for quite some time. How had they gotten to this point, after all their years together?

“Now, go,” he said, spinning her around and patting her ass. “Find us a bull to tame.”

Cassandra shimmied her shoulders, fluffed her hair. And then she stepped forward, doing her best to bury thoughts of kissing old boyfriends and apply herself to her latest assigned task.

People were already exiting the hall, moving on to any number of other parties or private events. She considered going up and hitting on the cellist until she saw the way that he was looking at the viola player. They had something going on there, and she decided to give the two space.

“Let’s go to one of the ship’s bars,” she said over her shoulder. “Seems like the Grand Stage is shutting down.”

“Lead the way,” Marshall replied. “I’ll be right behind you. Just don’t try to lose my tail this time.”

Cassandra laughed nervously, doing her best to bat away the images of Austin and their searing kiss that rushed close upon the heels of her husband’s words. “I wasn’t trying to lose you last night, dear.”

“Uh huh.”

She turned back toward him, her gaze searching his face. He had the look of the hunter, his game face for seeking out new cock for her. His “kink face,” she sometimes called it, only half-joking.

Not for the first time that day, guilt washed over her. She had to do better. Marshall was so committed to their shared games, and all she seemed capable of doing lately was mooning over a lost love. She might as well be stalking Austin late at night on Facebook, mainlining Chardonnay as she did so.

And with that thought Cassandra reached out and stroked her husband’s cheek as tenderly as she knew how, and moved to give him her best loving kiss. “Tonight is for you then, babe.”

“And for you,” he added.

“Turning you on turns me on.” The unthinking, knee-jerk nature of her second nearly-automatic response to her husband in a five minute window threw her off. Am I just his slutty Barbie after all?  

She covered her reaction by saying, “Now let’s go find someone.”

When they exited the hall, Cassandra spotted Austin and his wife, presumably, accompanied by the tall and tanned bull. The bull, who she recognized as one of the ship’s many lifeguards, was talking to Austin’s wife, who for her part was listening with great interest, her mouth half-open, as if trying to decide whether to be scandalized or not. 

The woman was attractive. Strikingly so. She was the kind of woman that Cassandra had once wanted to be, and now perhaps who she was. Unlike many of the attendees to the performance, she wore an actual dress, although the LBD was short enough and tight enough to pass for lingerie.

The lifeguard gestured to another trio—two women and a man. Cassandra had seen the man around, tall, built, made of the same square-jawed masculinity that seemed in abundance aboard the Princess. He was the chief butler, she thought, Lawrence or something. He seemed to be having a similar conversation with the two women, a blonde and a brunette who wore nothing but bras, panties, and a “coverup” that was about as effective as the one she wore in Nassau. Like Austin’s wife, they looked both surprised and intrigued, giggling to one another.

Austin’s wife turned in his direction, her brows going up as she asked him something. Well, shall we?

Whatever was going on there, Austin was clearly uncomfortable. Cassandra recognized his hesitation. She’d felt it herself, plenty of times in her own marriage. She considered stepping in when at that very moment, Austin glanced over, spotting her again.

This time it was Austin’s turn to quickly look away.

Cassandra sighed. Last night had been such a mistake. She should have forgone hanging out with him and just helped him back to his room and into the care of his wife. Now everything was awkward.

She tried again to put it all out of her mind and instead focus on the task at hand, one that was kind of the whole point of this cruise: to be a hotwife.

*****

“The Resplendent Porthole party?” Austin asked, eyes hopping from Faye to Mike to the new guy, Lawrence.

“It’s just a clever name for a gloryhole party, bro,” Mike Johnson said with his annoying confidence. “Porthole because it’s a ship—“

“I get it.” He turned to Faye, who was looking at him expectantly. “And you want to go.”

“Sounds fun. ’When in Rome,’ right? I like sucking cock, and I love it when you watch me.”

“I don’t know about this, honey…” He happened to look out at the people flowing from the theater just as Cassandra emerged. Their eyes locked for a second before he hastily looked away in embarrassment. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

Faye stared at him, visibly willing him to bend to her.

He refused, saying, “You go, though. ‘When in Rome.’”

Faye glanced at Mike apologetically and took Austin aside. “If you don’t come, there is no telling what you’ll miss. This could get pretty wild.”

“I’m sure it will.” Austin sighed. His wife’s eyes widened slightly at his response.

Normally he would go after some prodding—Faye had once affectionately referred to him as being more easily swayed than a drunk flamingo in a windstorm. Not tonight. He knew where the evening would lead, especially at a party designed for women to suck anonymous dick, none of which would be his. Best case, he left with a greater case of blue balls then he already had. Worst case? Faye humiliated him and made him join her at the hole. Not that she’d do that. Would she?

But he wasn’t going to find out. “But I’m tired, Faye. I’m still beat from last night, and I just want to crawl into bed. I was half-asleep at the concert.”

Faye studied him as if trying to decide whether to push one more time. Austin stepped up and took her into his arms before she could mount another offensive. “Have fun, baby. I’ll be dreaming of my naughty hotwife and all the fun that you’re having.”

Faye kissed him. “Okay then. I’ll see you in the morning.” She slapped his butt. “If you’re lucky.”

“Pretty sure you’re going to be the lucky one.”

Austin felt no regret as he watched Faye and her two admirers move off in the direction of the upper decks. He didn’t want to chase his wife down and ask to go, or for her to stay, or any of it. What he felt was relief and… freedom.

In a more sober frame of mind than he’d been in either of the last couple of nights, he could admit to himself that he’d been feeling that more and more these days. Sometimes life was just easier when he was at work, even when dealing with small town bureaucratic paperwork.

My marriage isn’t in a good place. It was the first time that he’d constructed the thought so deliberately.

It made him sad. He still loved Faye. When he closed his eyes, he still remembered their honeymoon in Spain, or how they met at a fundraiser held in the library and she’d thought that he was the mayor. Question was, did he fight for his marriage?

The answer to that question would have been an easy “yes” before this cruise—before he was reminded that relationships didn’t need to be like this. Before Cassandra.

He didn’t go back to the cabin. Instead, he found himself at the Explorer’s Lounge—not to pick anyone up, but to wallow in self-pity with a fruity rum drink. Seemed fitting.

The lounge was crowded. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d moved to this bar after the performance. Plenty of scantily clad women here, still “dressed” in their lingerie outfits. He made his way to the bar, barely seeing any of them.

Of course Cassandra was here. Fuuuck. And of course Joe Greene, of all guys, was hitting on her. For as many people who were on this ship, it was starting to feel way too insular. He ignored them, settling in at the bar.

“What’ll you have?” said the bartender.

Asking for a strawberry daiquiri suddenly felt very emasculating. “I’ll have a… an Old Fashioned.”

“Sure thing. Coming right up.”

The two violinists were here, sitting in a grouping of low-backed leather chairs. They were joined by a third man, large, barrel-chested, with huge arms. A bull. Austin knew the type, and the brunette violinist, still in her red lingerie, was definitely into him. As Austin watched, he appreciated the respect the big guy seemed to show for her husband. When they rose, they rose together, they left together.

Joe’s words from the first night came back to him. Not so fast, little man. Private party. By invitation only.

Austin had never been invited. Even tonight, he didn’t get the impression that Faye was all that put out that he wasn’t with her.

His eyes inevitably went back to Cassandra and Joe Greene. Seeing her smile, seeing her so engaged with the bull, stung more than Faye abandoning him in favor of a glory hole.

Cassandra was too good for this guy. Austin wasn’t naive. Cass wouldn’t come on a cruise like this if she wasn’t looking to hook up, but even still, she could do better.

He also knew that it was none of his business, and yet he still found himself throwing back his drink, taking a deep breath, and heading over to the two of them.

You’ll sit here and wait for us, Joe Green in his head repeated as he threaded his way through the crowded bar, in the direction of his former sweetheart and oversized douchecanoe sniffing around her goods And while you wait, I want you to think about what’s happening to your wife. I want you to imagine my big, hard cock stretching her perfect little pussy. I want you to picture her moaning and screaming my name as I make her cum over and over again.

Yeah, she might not be his wife, but there was no way he was going to be forced to wallow in those images again.

“Hey, Cassandra!” Austin called out right before reaching the two of them. He really leaned in to the enthusiasm as he came abreast of his ex. Joe Greene registered no recognition when he turned to look at him. He didn’t remember Austin, or how he treated him like a cuck. He didn’t remember dismissing him.

“This your man?” Joe asked.

“Um, no. He’s a… friend.” Cassandra grinned at Austin curiously. “Austin, what are you doing here?”

“Wondering if I could get you a drink.”

Her grin spread into a smile that felt like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. But before she could get a word out, Joe answered, “I’ve got that covered. We’re good, man.”

Cassandra assessed the situation quickly, draining her glass and passing it off to Joe. “And now I need another. Thanks for this one, Joe. It was nice chatting with you.”

Joe turned to Austin, and for a moment, Austin was pretty convinced he was about to be punched. Especially when Joe gave Cassandra a once over, checking out the good time that he was giving up. It made Austin even more angry.

“Yeah, thanks for getting her that drink, Joe.” Even as the words rolled off of his tongue, Austin quailed inside, ready for the beat-down to arrive.

But Joe knew the rules. He was a player. He just held up his hands and smiled. “You two have a good evening. And you, Cassandra, find me if you want another… drink.”

When he was gone, Cassandra turned on Austin. “Okay, what was that all about?”

She wasn’t angry. She didn’t sound annoyed the way Faye would have. She just seemed confused.

“That guy’s a jerk. Your husband wouldn’t have been interested in what he was offering.”

“I wouldn’t?”

Austin turned to find the speaker was none other than the man he’d seen at Cassandra’s side at various moments. He was older, early 50s perhaps, with gray at his temples and a tailored style that spoke of money. No doubt he was a good-looking man, and definitely the kind of guy who tended to get a woman like Cassandra.

Austin was immediately intimidated, but after his exchange with Joe, he also wasn’t going to wilt.

“Not unless you want the true cuck experience,” Austin said, meeting the older man’s eyes. “And you don’t look like that kind of man.”

Cassandra’s husband studied him for a quiet moment, serious and appraising, before he cracked a smile. “You were the guy Cassie spent the first night with, weren’t you. In the booth.”

“Uh, yes.”

“Marshall,” the older man said, holding out his hand. “And you know my wife, Cassandra.”

“I do.” Austin glanced quickly at Cassandra, who all of a sudden looked like a spooked animal. “I’m Austin.”

“You were out with her last night, too. You went to the pool with her.”

Austin was trying to figure out how much Marshall knew, and whether or not the guy was jealous. Most men asking that question would have been, but then again they were amidst people who didn’t react in the normal way. “I did, although honestly, I was on something last night.” He hazarded a crooked sidelong grin in Cass’s direction. Her eyes widened in response, her cheeks reddening adorably. “Don’t really remember all that much.”

“And here you are, again, with my wife.” Marshall put an arm around her as if to make a point. For someone with his particular kink, the guy sure seemed fond of marking his territory. “And tonight, you’re not going to spirit her away.”

“Of course—”

Marshall didn’t let him finish. “Because tonight, I’m going to watch as you fuck her.”

Now you've got something to look forward to next week!

If you're interested in reading more about the Fischer String Quartet and their dynamic, you're in luck. You can read it in GK Grayson's The Hotwife Cruise: Ginette (available now). If you want to read more about where Faye goes in chapter 10, Hardison Parker actually covers it in The Hotwife Cruise: Nia & Jessie (out on Feb 20), and warning, it won't make you like her any more.

And of course, you can preorder Cassandra's book if you'd like, coming out on February 27. This one will hew closer to the Patreon chapters, with a bit more polish, since I won't have as much time to screw around with it. Those of you who do choose to purchase, though, also consider writing a review. They're always so helpful!