I was as mildly annoyed by Mitch and Paige's carefree casualness about everything as I was secretly jealous of them. Paige looked radiant: her face was fresh and without makeup, her long hair was slightly tousled, and she smelled like soap. Her cocktail dress had somehow transformed in the late morning light, and she looked only slightly overdressed. Nik was still wearing her borrowed dress, and she looked like a woman who had been very naughty the night before. It was a little ironic, given what I suspected Paige and Mitch had gotten up to.
“Well,” Paige declared. “Did you two have fun last night?” She exchanged a knowing look with Nik, who smiled but didn't respond. Mitch ordered black coffee and told us we should probably get on the road soon. I had a million questions for them, but I was too uneasy with their libertine ways, and their lack of planning, to say anything. Nik slept in the car on the way home. Mitch and Paige had a very dull and average married conversation.
We were exhausted, and we went to bed early.
The next morning, Mitch was standing at the water's edge, drinking his usual cup of coffee. I found myself standing next to him, and, stranger than that, consulting him about my wife's plan.
“What'd you guys get up to after the club?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I didn't really like Mitch, but I felt like I needed to get in with him to get this whole thing under control.
He looked me plainly in the eye. Then he winked. “You know. Same old.”
I swallowed. “Did, uh...did Paige go home with that guy?”
Just asking the question triggered a whole slew of thoughts in my mind, and I could feel something stirring in my cock.
“It's amazing,” Mitch said, turning his eyes back to the ocean, “I thought this was going to be such a dull time.”
I felt the same sense of unease slither through me that I felt whenever I really thought about Paige and Mitch, outside of their sexual exploits. After all, what were they doing here? This was the last place on the planet you'd expect to run into people like them. Nothing fit about them. Why did they rent from the Smiths? And what had happened to the Smiths, for that matter?
It was easy to start hatching a serious conspiracy theory right there.
But even if all of that was on the up-and-up, there was still the matter of what it was they were doing here. And why they were still making their porn, and why they had evidently brought all of their professional lighting to do it. The internet was slow and patchy here, it seemed like the worst place on earth to upload a video. I wasn't even certain that the Smiths had internet at all. It all made so little sense.
I really wanted to pry into all of this, but Mitch was such a hardened-looking man, with such a gruff exterior, and the kind of stone-cold expression on his face that made me feel afraid of asking him anything. I felt some kind of dark secret was lurking in the mystery of Paige and Mitch, so I didn't ask.
I also didn't like Paige's subtle influence over Nik much. I liked Paige – there was everything to like – but the juxtaposition of her breezy, surfer-girl attitude and her slutty porn-star persona, here in the wind-swept sands of Cape Breton, also made her a little scary.
And yet, in spite of all this, there was also no denying that my wife was turning me on like she had never turned me on before. We were having the most incredible sex we'd ever had, even compared to the beginning of our relationship. I couldn't deny that the two of them were as alluring as they were creepy. And my cock wasn't letting me think straight.
So we stood there for a bit, and then I blurted out:
“So, Nik wants to make a video.”
Mitch nodded, and there was something very sinister in his nod. Almost as if he had been just waiting for me to say this, like he was pulling the strings somewhere behind it all. Disturbing, half-baked thoughts fluttered through my consciousness.
“You should post it,” he said. “I'm telling you. Nikita would be an instant hit.”
My chest felt tight. “Well, I don't think...she wants to do it without her face, you know. And just...just for fun, we might not even post it.”
Mitch frowned. Then he shrugged. “I guess that's how you have to start,” he said. “You have a camera?”
I hadn't even thought about this. To be honest, I had been envisioning us returning home, getting away from these two characters, and then doing this in the privacy of our own home. It dawned on me, just as Mitch said this, that Nik was the kind of person who got an idea and wanted to do immediately. Of course she was.
“I uh...I guess we were thinking just do it on the iPhone,” I said, stupidly, although I hadn't even thought about it all.
Mitch turned to me. “Bad quality. Hard to hold.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Just tell me. If you want to borrow a camera. Or anything like that.”
“Oh no,” I said quickly. “No, nothing like that...it's just -”
He lifted his mug toward me and pointed. “She should shave her bush, too. Does she do that?”
I went completely cold. It was so utterly lewd to be having this conversation, wasn't it? And Mitch so matter-of-fact about it.
“Unless she's got some really full one. I think there's a market for that, but really, you're better off bare.”
I had no idea what to say. Multiple, permanently-ingrained images of Paige's cunt wafted through my mind. “Uh, well, you know, it's just for fun so it's not like...it needs to be, you know, professional,” I stammered. The ridiculousness of the conversation overtook me suddenly. I looked back at the cottage.
“You know, Paige could probably help her out. Yeah. Why don't you send her over this afternoon and we'll get it sorted?” Mitch said.
I had no idea what to say. As I had so many other times, I felt control over the situation slipping through my fingers, and I was too caught up in my own desire to grasp hold of it. The truth was, the idea of Paige “helping her out” was incredibly seductive to me. My wife getting waxed and groomed for an adult video was alluring, and my cock was hard to prove it. My desires, though, were in combat with the sense that I shouldn't be letting another man direct my wife's sexual explorations like this.
And yet, I thought, wasn't that exactly the poison that was burning the most sensationally in my blood?
“Uh...okay...” I said lamely. “I have to talk to Nik about it, I guess.”
Mitch turned to me, and tossed the remainder of his coffee on the sand as he did so. “Cole. You seem like a guy who's having trouble knowing what he wants. You know what you want. You just don't feel like it's right for you to just make it happen.” He clapped me on the shoulder again. “It's all set up. You can make it happen. Just...be a man about it.”
He walked past me and toward his own cottage.
I was too stunned, and too angry, and too annoyed that he was maybe giving me some decent advice, to say anything. I squinted in the direction of the sand dunes on the far side of the bay.
Then Mitch called out. “You wouldn't be here talking to me about it if it wasn't true, man.”
Inside, I felt my blood boil.
But as I trudged back up to my own cottage in the sand, I knew he was right. In a way. I knew what I wanted. Maybe I should just be a man and make it happen, I thought.
I couldn't shake an uneasy feeling, though. The same feeling I got when Mitch responded to me telling him Nik wanted to make a video. The kind of feeling you get from a person who is always one step ahead of you. From a person who feels like a persistent adversary.
It was the kind of feeling, I realized at the steps of the cottage, you get when you're being conned.
Or already have been.
*
“What if they're con artists?” I said, looking out the window back at the cottage after we ate lunch.
Nik was stretched out on two chairs at the kitchen table, in only her panties (because she claimed to be “hot”), and her bare legs were devastatingly sexy. She turned a page of the awful local newspaper and continued reading it as though she were wholly immersed. She snorted lightly. �
��What's the con? They're going to steal all the sand in Cape Breton?”
My face flushed. “I don't know. But what's with them? What the hell are they doing here? And why...” my voice trailed off. I had almost said, why are they trying to turn you into a porn slut, and a hotwife? And I was glad I hadn't been so stupid.
If there was one thing I still knew about Nik, it was that she would be furious if I even hinted that she might not be making her own decisions, purely out of her own will.
And if there was anything I knew about myself – and it was becoming apparent to me that I didn't know all that much about myself - it was that I didn't really want to take any of this off the table. Not completely.
“Why, what?” Nik said, moving her whole head to scan the paper. She really enjoyed the Cape Breton Herald, which read like a satirical magazine with its in-depth coverage of ducks crossing roads.
“Well,” I said, trying to hide my real thoughts, “why...why aren't John and Elaine here? And why would they -Mitch and Paige - come here, to this place, of all places -”
“Paige has this thing,” Nik began, and then she was sucked into something she was reading.
I folded my arms with impatience.
“Paige has what thing?” I snapped, after a few moments.
Nik looked up at me. “Paige has this thing, where she..I dunno, she wants to surf like, up and down the coast of everywhere. They were going to Africa but they canceled because of Ebola or something.”
I threw my hands up. “Oh. Okay. That makes sense, then. Because whenever someone cancels a trip to Africa, Cape Breton is where they go. 'Cape Breton: A Great Backup For Canceled Safaris'””
Nik sighed and rolled her eyes. “She wasn't going on safari.”
I stared at her. “Okay, then.” I said helplessly.
Because what else could I say?
Nik folded her paper and uncrossed her legs. She stood up and kissed me on the cheek. “I'm going to pop over to see Paige about something,” she said. Her voice was playful, and her eyes had the wanton gleam in them she had been getting more and more frequently.
I felt an impotent fury building inside of me. What was it she was going to see Paige about? She had that look in her eyes, and so I could easily guess it was about something to do with her new-found sexual experimentations. Mitch had suggested it – but how had it come back to Nik already? There hadn't been time.
Coincidence, Cole, I told myself.
And if it wasn't a coincidence? What was I insinuating? That Mitch had some kind of mind-control over my wife?
“What are you doing over at Paige's?” I said abruptly, and my voice sounded much more cross than I meant it to.
Nik was wrapping a skimpy, short sarong over her panties – and they were panties, not a swimsuit. I stared in disbelief, because that was one of the last things the woman I'd arrived in Cape Breton five days ago with would do. “You'll see,” she said, in a teasing tone.
Her voice sent an electric shock through the center of me, and it offset the unease.
Just exactly.
So I stood there, paralyzed, and watched her go.
16 THE FIRST VIDEO
Nik returned in the evening, much later than she had promised to come back. I had spent most of my time fuming, and talking myself out of stomping over to the Smiths' cottage to find out what was going on over there.
I did not, after all, want to look like a jealous husband, or desperate one. If my wife went over to a porn star and her smarmy pimp husband's house for the afternoon, wearing nothing but a sarong and some panties, I was all right with it.
I glared at the ocean and drank beer to prove my point to myself. All the while, erotic and painful idea churned in my mind.
Nik came across the sand around seven. She seemed tipsy.
“About time,” I grumbled. “I'm hungry.”
Nik said nothing and continued across the sand. I inspected her figure, her attire, her hair. She seemed about the same, although I hadn't really paid much attention to what she looked like when she left. Her hair seemed a little damp.
I ignored it.
Outwardly, I ignored it. Inside, my mind was racing to all of the possibilities. I hadn't seen her in the water, so the only way for her hair to have gotten wet was a shower. And why did a woman take a shower at a friend's house?
I stood up and went into the kitchen, where I had laid out a nice dinner, just to prove that I wasn't spending the whole day obsessing about Nik and what she was doing at Paige's place.
“Chicken cordon blue okay?” I grunted. I knew how I sounded, and I hated it, but there was no way to cleanse the mild pout out of my voice.
Nik smiled and sat down on a stool by the counter. She poured us two glasses of wine and looked at me playfully. She was really having fun at my expense.
Whatever. I took my wine glass and turned back to the chicken.
“So aren't you even going to ask me?” she said, and her voice was sultry. The teasing look she had been getting lately was alive in her eyes. I could feel it, without even seeing it. I could hear it in her voice.
I knew what she was talking about, exactly what she wanted me to ask her about. I was both hating and enjoying the cold feeling slithering around inside of me. “Ask you what?” I inquired childishly, turning around to show her how utterly clueless I was. Such a nonchalant man.
She rolled her eyes and smiled. Bit her lip in a sexy, porno-grade way. “What I did with Paige this afternoon?”
Of course, my mind took its usual trip through my dirty fantasies about women spending the afternoon together, beginning with the two of them bouncing on the bed smashing feather pillows together, and ending with something much dirtier including dildos. My cock twitched and I couldn't help grinning salaciously. “Oh yes,” I said. “Tell me what you did with Paige this afternoon.”
Nik rolled her eyes again, this time at my over-the-top voice. It was my way, I guessed, of trying to rein everything in and get it all – whatever “it all” was – under my control.
“Well, I borrowed a camera,” she said.
A shiver went through me.
I reached for my glass and took a sip of wine, unsteadily, which I hoped she didn't see. “Oh yeah?”
My cock had come to life and was now aching.
She grinned. “And...well, Paige had some suggestions about...aesthetics, that I think were really useful.”
My mouth went dry. Even though my head was practically spinning around like a demon's, and deep down inside I had some vague idea of what she meant by that, I struggled to put my finger on what “aesthetic” suggestion Paige could have made.
Unless...
“Do you want me to show you?”
I babbled a little. “I uh..yes...I do...but I have this...chicken...” I waved in the direction of the chicken.
She smiled. “Don't worry about that for now. Let me show you.”
I stared at her.
“And then I have to tell you about something that I did.”
My eyes widened and my abdomen felt like it had turned to a block of ice. Nik was amused with herself.
“It was...sort of bad. Not something that can't be undone, or anything, but just...I probably should have asked you first.”
She was biting the end of her thumb now. I couldn't even begin to get my head around what was going on, or why, even though my wife seemed to be confessing to some bad deed, it was only turning me on.
“Wha...?” I said, stupidly. “What did you...?”
Nik stood up, still smiling deviously, and went to the bedroom. When she came out she was holding a camera in her hand and turning it on. She sat down on a stool and scooted it close so that she could the screen where I could see it if I leaned over the counter. It gave me a nice view of her breasts, down her tank top, and of her legs, crossed so that the sarong slid open all the way to her panties.
I was dying to know what was on the video.
But she just held the camera between her tw
o hands for the moment.
“Okay, so...when I went over there, at first I was just telling Paige that I was thinking about...you know.” She nudged me. I supposed she was talking about making a video of the two of us, although I couldn't be sure of anything at this point. “And then, Paige told me that I had to...you know,” Nik made a quick circle over her crotch with her fingers. I must have looked confused (though I knew exactly what she was talking about), because she added. “Shave. So...then Paige tells me all this other stuff about how it's hard to like...I dunno, get things set up right, and she's telling me all these things, and then she makes a suggestion.”
Nik paused, reading my face.
“O...kay,” I said, because she seemed to want me to say something. It was all I could think of, because imagining Paige and Nik talking about making pornos and shaving had my cock so hard there was no blood left for my brain.
Nik watched me for another moment, and then she opened the viewer on the camera. “So she tells me that this kind of thing would like...play really well. On the internet...you know, and that...I mean, it doesn't matter, I'm still undecided about whether I would even put that kind of thing up, but...okay, let me just show you.”
She pressed play.
For the first few seconds, I couldn't figure out what I was looking at. My mind had been digging up all kinds of dirty images as Nik had been talking, and my cock had spun up all kinds of fantasies, but I still wasn't prepared to see what I was seeing.
The woman on the screen was a lithe, olive-skinned beauty. I surveyed the toned and slender body for a full ten seconds, delighting in the hard nipples, the shapely breasts...and then it really hit me: this wasn't some internet porn star who looked like my wife.
It was my wife.
My mouth opened but no sound came out, and my already-painfully hard cock actually thudded to an even more-painful plane of readiness. I could feel cum pouring out of the tip of my cock.
I couldn't take my eyes off the screen.
“Have you ever done this before?”
Paige's voice. Slow, beautiful, seductive. Laid-back. The camera swept over Nik's body, though, and even up to her face – which was certainly not hidden. Nik was smiling, a little blush on her cheeks. She looked slightly bashful, and yet she was fully naked and letting someone film her -
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