Chapter 10
Misty
I t’s only been two days since I arrived, but it’s been forty-eight hours of non-stop revelry and hard, filthy sex.
I feel used, to be honest, but in a good way.
My body is achy and sore, and my pussy literally seeps with Chris and Brett’s come.
Oh my god, it’s so wrong to even think those thoughts, and yet I smile to myself secretively because I’ve been a bad girl this weekend, and I loved every second of it.
The two men make me feel so complete, and so feminine, that I’m a bit at a loss now that the weekend’s coming to an end.
Stop being sentimental , the voice in my head scolds. You’re getting paid, remember? This was never about hearts, roses, and sweet I-love-you’s. This was always about the no-holds-barred sex, and you’re getting six figures in your bank account as compensation.
The words ring true in my head, and yet I can’t help but feel what I feel.
I’ve enjoyed my time with Chris and Brett, full stop, because what girl wouldn’t?
The two mountain men are actually successful businessmen in the outside world, which is really attractive.
They know how to care for their women and have full lives away from the cabin.
In my opinion, that’s the true definition of being an alpha male: Chris and Brett are killing it in business and life.
So what if they want to get away from it all once in a while?
Everyone needs some R&R, and this is how my men do it.
Yeah, but you know nothing about these dudes , the voice in my head snarks again.
Everything they told you about themselves could be lies.
They could actually be members of an Albanian gang that specializes in cutting peoples’ fingers off.
Or maybe they actually work as clowns at the circus, and don wigs and make-up on the reg.
I smile while folding my laundry because it’s true.
Everything that Chris and Brett have revealed about themselves could be a lie, and yes, they could be gang members or clowns.
Anything is possible. And yet, I don’t think they’re lying.
Of course, I don’t have any way to check because I can’t google these men, but I get the feeling that the broad sketches they provided are accurate.
They’re college buddies who played lacrosse back in the day, and they’ve gone on to lead successful lives as powerful CEOs.
Brett even revealed that he has two sons from his first marriage who are adults now.
Why would you fib about something like that?
So I hum as I continue to fold my laundry. Chris and Brett are outside right now, chopping wood actually. They say that the exercise does a body good, and they certainly have the muscular physiques to prove it.
Meanwhile, I’m getting ready for my departure tomorrow by doing a bit of laundry before I leave. Although I’m sad to depart, I’ll always treasure the memories of this weekend because it taught me something about myself: that I enjoy being shared by two powerful alpha males.
But after I’m done folding my clothes, I look down and see that there’s still one item left.
That’s weird because I thought I got everything.
Reaching down, I pluck the piece of balled cloth crammed in the corner of the basket and then frown.
It’s a woman’s purple thong, sexy and sweet, made of wisps of lace and elastic. Even worse: it doesn’t belong to me.
What the hell? How in the world did a thong get into the basket? Who does this belong to, anyways?
My mind whirls as I try to think back. Brett has two sons from a previous relationship, and Chris mentioned that he’s never been married.
A girlfriend, maybe? A friend? A visitor?
But the thing is that Chris said he hasn’t let anyone stay at the cabin in over a year now.
He said it’s his private retreat, and the cabin has pretty much been empty.
Maybe they have a housekeeper who comes once in a while, and she washed her clothes in the machine?
But with a sinking heart, I realize that my worst fears are coming true.
Strike that, because it wasn’t even my worst fear.
It was an unrealized fear that’s only taking shape now because the panties are making me see something that I didn’t want to acknowledge: that Brett and Chris have likely been using this cabin to fuck women on the reg.
This is their hidey hole where they bring girls, and then they fuck said girls before sending them on their way.
So what? the voice in my head snarks. Did you really expect otherwise? You’re one of those women, Misty. Did you really think you were different?
I blink, tears filling my eyes because to be honest, I did.
It felt so special being with Brett and Chris that I thought I was special.
I thought that we shared a magical weekend together, to be treasured forever in our hearts.
But now the truth is like a massive piano landing on my head: I’m nothing to them.
I’m one of a bevy of women whom they bring here to fuck and suck.
Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted when the door to the muck room opens. Chris appears, handsome and sweaty, with his plaid shirt crumpled in one hand. His bronze chest gleams with perspiration, every muscle delineated.
“Hey sweetheart,” he greets, still panting a bit from exertion. “Chopping wood is hard work and my shit is sweaty now. I’m just going to throw it into the washer.”
But then, he stops when he sees the tears in my eyes. “Is something wrong, Mist?” he asks. “What’s going on?”
I rise from where I was kneeling by the laundry basket, the offending thong dangling from one hand.
“What is this?” I whisper in a broken tone, my voice cracking.
Chris squints a little, eyeing the fabric.
“Ladies’ underwear? Why?”
I pause, barely able to breathe.
“It’s not mine, Chris. This belongs to someone else. Another woman.”
His handsome face drains of color as he stares at me. At that moment, Brett enters the small room, their massive forms taking up all the space available. But Brett sees the thong and immediately realizes the calamity.
“It’s not what you think it is, Misty.”
I gulp, the sound audible in the silence.
“Don’t lie to me,” I say in a whisper, tears smarting at my eyes. “Please don’t insult me by lying about this.”
The handsome men share a look before turning back to me, their eyes regretful.
“Okay, it is what you think it is,” Brett says in a soothing tone. “We had another woman over before you.”
I scream then, rage making my entire body shake.
“ Who ? How many? When was this? Don’t lie to me!”
Brett and Chris share another look, but I can see something pass between them. They’ve decided to tell the truth and Brett turns back to me, both hands held up in placation.
“We’ve been enjoying our vacation—” he begins. But I cut him off.
“ Who is she ? When was she here? Was she from Sweet Lies too?” I scream at the top of my lungs.
The men stare at me, their eyes filled with regret. But Chris nods and answers.
“She was here right before you got here, Misty. That must be why her thong was caught in the laundry basket because she did her laundry before leaving too.”
“ What was her name ?” I scream, a vein bulging in my forehead now. I feel like I’m going to explode from a combination of shame, anger, and hurt. “Is she also from Sweet Lies?”
Chris nods.
“Her name doesn’t matter. But we’ve been having girls over, and yes, most of them were from Sweet Lies.”
I feel faint. Literally, the room begins to spin, and Chris and Brett jump forward to help me to the couch. I collapse against the cushions, still trying to process.
“How many girls?” I ask.
The two men exchange another look.
“We’ve been here a month,” Brett says in a low tone. “We’ve been enjoying two or three ladies per week.”
I startle, staring at them, my eyes dry and hot.
“So it’s been back to back,” I whisper. “As soon as one leaves, another one arrives.”
Chris appears shame-faced.
“Yes,” he acknowledges, staring at the ground before stealing a glance at me. “We’ve been enjoying a lot of female bodies but you’re—”
I don’t let him finish.
“So you’ve been having non-stop sex for a month,” I breathe, the air rattling in my lungs.
“With an assortment of young women who are brought to the cabin in a black car, and then whisked away once you’re done with them.
And then another woman comes. And another.
And another. You’ve been having a fuckfest here in the cabin for a month . ”
Both men look ashamed now, but Brett reaches for my hand.
I snatch it away quickly, afraid that I’ll completely lose it if they touch me because how can this be happening?
I didn’t think I was special, but I didn’t think that the depravity was so extensive either.
These two alpha males are fucking girls one right after another, their dicks still wet as they plug pussy after pussy. Oh my god, oh my god!
But before they can say more, I summon all of my dignity and rise to my feet like a queen.
“I’m going to go now,” I announce, tears stinging the back of my eyes. “If you could call the car, I’d appreciate it.”
My face is hot and yet my body ice cold, and I know they can tell that I’m suffering.
“You’re in shock,” Brett says in a gentle tone. “Sit down, Misty, and I’ll make you some tea. The car’s going to be here at four so it’s only a few hours more.”
“No,” I say in a stiff tone before looking around for my bag. “I’ll pack and just wait on the porch. Please, don’t talk to me. Just leave me be.”
Then, without making eye contact, I walk to the laundry room to get my clean clothes.
I’m going to pack and then wait for the vehicle, just like I said, because I can’t stand being in this cabin for a moment longer.
The air is stifling and hot, and I feel like I’m going to go insane if I remain in this oppressive space any longer.
Then again, I don’t know what I was thinking.
On the one hand, I know I’m just a service to these men.
A transaction to be handled. A young, nubile female body to be used and abused.
But on the other, I thought we actually shared something together, with smiles, laughter, and funny quips.
I enjoyed eating the food Chris and Brett cooked, and we had tender moments of conversation, in addition to the hard, filthy fucks that occurred every hour.
But now, any fantasies that I held dear to my heart have been blown to smithereens. Brett and Chris don’t care about me that way, and they never have. I’m nothing but a warm female body to them, to be used and discarded, and I swallow painfully because sometimes ... the truth is hard to bear.