Tiffanys husband is shocked to find out what is going on. He crafts a plan for payback.
Tiffany and the Caribbean Cruise 5
I was rested and refreshed by the time Tiffany returned. She was exhausted. Her pussy was raw and her lips were puffy from so much cock sucking. I didn't know this, of course. “I need a little rest.” she said as she closed the bath door for a self inspection.
“I feel pretty good, I'm going to head up to the surf bar.” I called through the door.
“OK, have fun. I'll be in dreamland.” Tiffany answered. She was relieved to be alone for awhile and be able to rest and clean up from the fuckathon.
I sat at the end of the surf bar where I could get a cocktail and still see the action in the wave machine. The usual collection of rookies mixed with some really coordinated guys moved through the waiting line for the wave machine. Between the Cuba Libre cocktail and the water sports, I was entertained. Two guys sat around the corner from me at the bar. We were separated by a couple of giant sports fans drinking beers and talking college football.
It dawned on me that one of the new guys was the guy Tiffany had been dancing with. It was Mark, but I didn't remember his name. I didn't feel like talking to him or making small talk, so I adjusted my seat and blocked his view of me behind the jocks.
In a lull in the sports fans conversation I overheard Marks buddy comment. “Are we gonna fuck Tiffany again tonight?” Mark nodded. “She will be at the piano bar again tonight, I'll bet on it.”
My gut tightened. What did I just hear?
“Let's film it this time. I want a souvenir of the cruise!” Mark again nodded. He seemed to be deep in thought and stared at his beer. “It's gonna be a big night.” He said.
The blood ran out of my face and my guts were in an uproar. I felt really light headed. I called for the check and slipped away unnoticed.
I stood at the railing and looked out over the beautiful waters of the Caribbean, but It wasn't an enjoyable moment.
What to do?
My knee didn't hurt anymore. Miracle cure!
I was seriously pumped on andrenaline, now. Fortunately I hadn't medicated in a while and my head was relatively clear.
I moved to another one of the outside bars near the front of the ship and ordered an iced tea. Caffeine was my new drug.
The sun caressed my shoulders and neck as I sat and planned.
Tiffany was forgiven. Our deal was much deeper than sex. She is the coolest female I've ever known. The circumstances of a highly sexed woman, alcohol and a lack of loving for several weeks set the stage for my forgiveness. Unless she was in love with this character, and I doubted it, we were good.
I know you think I'm a fool. But to some extent that's what love is; 'lust and foolishness'. I had both in spades.
I fleshed out a plan of revenge. Tiffany couldn't be wrong, so it had to be tall and handsome and his buddy the surf dude that had to pay. I couldn't just let this go. A little unfair, I suppose, but they had to pay. Fucking some other guys wife is outside the boundaries of my moral code. Single chicks, fair game. Married, No.
These guys were in for paybacks. I thought of the 'one percenter's' that I had ridden with in my Harley days. “Paybacks are a bitch.” That was my buddy who was nicknamed 'Lately' by others for his habitual tardiness. He had a crude but honest philosophy.
If you are going to fuck some dude's wife, be prepared for the consequences. “Paybacks are a bitch.”
In football and war, there is a philosophy: Play to your own strengths.
They were both bigger than me. And there were two of them. That ruled out confrontation unless one had a weapon. And privacy. Hmmm.
Number one: Split them up. Without a weapon my chances of victory were slim against two guys. One at a time.
Two: Surprise. Its much easier to win when your opponent is off guard. I planned a situation where I controlled the deal.
Three: location. This had to go down on my turf. No witnesses and easier to control the situation.
I had to be careful in my confrontation with Tiffany. An angry accusation might put her on the defensive and I'd lose control of the narrative.
I headed back to the cabin, my blood soaked with adrenaline, my heart pounding.
She was up and sunning on the balcony. I kissed her cheek and then sat next to her .
After small talk I made my move.
“The weirdest thing happened to me at the surf bar,” I opened.
Tiffany looked over, curious.
I gave her the story with no comments. Just a repeat of my experience overhearing them.
Then I shut up. Pregnant pause.
She said nothing for an awkwardly long time.
“I don't know how it happened. One minute I was dancing and then I was in his cabin and he was on top of me!”
I wasn't sure that I wanted to hear the details, although they all came out in the next few weeks.
I gave her my interpretation based upon loneliness, alcohol and needs. She got a pass from me.
She was doubtful. Within just a few minutes she was busted and then forgiven.
Her head was doing the spin now.
“I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.” She looked down into her lap.
I suppose that was my chance to take advantage of the situation, but my mind was focused on the payback. That other shit could be done later.
After the appropriate time I explained my plan to her. She was horrified.