I moved my head to give him a kiss. It was a slow, passionate kiss but you could feel the urgency in it as well. I stood and took Jack by the hand and...lead him back to the cottage. We didn’t say a word to one another, we didn’t have to. We both knew what we wanted. I excused myself as we entered the cottage. I went to the bedroom and got out my nightie I had brought and headed to the bathroom. I wanted to wash the sand off me. When I emerged Jack had lite the fireplace. I was surprised because. Since that dreadful event our relationship, understandably, hung by a thread.Working in sales for Sorenson and Son is stressful beyond belief. The owner, Erling, overseas the sales department personally and guides it with an iron hand. The stated reason is if there are no sales then no one feeds anyone's bulldog. The boss is not a person who gives compliments. The only pat on the back would be a meager bonus. Another change from Senior's methods.No one wanted to go before the boss, not for any. So here I am, on my knees tied to a coffee table, sucking dick while I'm being fist raped, it was turning out to be a great day. Roger kept fucking my face, but Keith suddenly stopped fisting me and pulled his hand out. I sighed, then felt hands spread my ass once again, as Keith slammed his dry, rock hard dick deep up my ass. I screamed into his dick as Keith started slamming me against the table, brutally fucking my sore, abused ass. It felt like he was ripping me a new one, but I was. The worst part of it for me was sitting at the dinner table listening to him and Fran go through all that "do you remember" stuff. It was all innocent stuff like, "Remember Marge and Billy Crenshaw and the night that...", but it served to remind me that the man on the other side of the table used to sleep with my wife. Shouldn't be a biggie since I knew she had been married before when I met her. But knowing that I hadn't been there first and that I was sitting across the table from the guy who.