A Borrowed Wife, The Covid Camper Ch. 03

... First getting inside of my car it had the ever so slight lingering aroma of arousal, but I may have been the only one to actually smell this with my very sensitive nose. To be fair, the air had been unintentionally bottled up inside my car with the windows closed, so I suppose this was on me either way. "Did hubby smell such and come to the erroneous conclusion that Ken and I stopped off someplace for a backseat 'quicky' on the way up to collect him; almost like horny teenagers might?" I wondered belatedly. If so, he seemed more than okay with this too, so super accepting of Ken both taking and having me pretty much at will now...

Getting my androgynously attired husband back home hadn't been the ordeal I initially thought it might be either, so almost "business as usual" for nearly the entire trip, appearances to the contrary. It obviously wasn't the full-feminine costume along the lines of what he'd playfully worn as my maid several times, but it most certainly wasn't anything traditionally masculine either. So, fair to say that with both different glasses and hair it might be hard to determine what proverbial club he was in, at a distance while casually looking anyway; but not necessarily this time.

It was also under the cover of darkness by that time though, and he also sat in the tinted-windows back of my car by default, with Ken riding "shotgun" in front and next to me just like we drove up together; like a husband also might be. Ken was "manning-up" and taking his place here too, and fair to assume I wasn't the only one to notice this either

This was actually practical too though, Ken knew this route better than I did, and I genuinely appreciated his back-up navigation in the dark. This was more self-deportation on my uniquely dressed husband's part, and while peeking on him in my rear view mirror my thoughts were brewing wildly on how to build on this little clothing mishap to make this upcoming sequestered vacation of his truly extraordinary.

He was impossibly receptive to the way I had been forced to dress him, even in front of Ken, optional sports bra and all, so this had actually turned into an unforeseen opportunity; just like Ken had suggested it might. I simply never would have gone this specific route with him, most especially with Ken in attendance, if of course our unique circumstances didn't demand such.

Anyway, we all had to stop on the way home for a restroom break to part with our coffee, and my husband did actually use the male facilities; a stall in his case for a bit of necessary privacy. He drew a bit of side-eye male attention with his unique outfit as well, perhaps even as much as my shirtdress did; but it was all in fun.

At first I feared that any "public-aspect" to this little adventure might make this situation a bit less than fun for hubby, as taking this little "fem-him-up" act out in public was a definite ground-breaking first, even at night. I also noticed the male attention he drew, as did Ken, and wishing to playfully taunt my husband, Ken convinced me to quickly move my car to the very back part of the parking area, all while hubby was still busy inside one of the stalls, trying like hell to be discreet.

I backed into this new distant parking spot so we both could watch the show when my husband eventually came out and realized my car was gone; and the look on his face when he did, priceless! Ken caught it all on his phone's very nice camera in the well-lit parking lot, and even his looking around exaggerated "OH SHIT!" body-language that was pure physical-comedy.

"Blackmail possibility?" I wondered, even if only playfully applied to "make" him do something he really wanted to do anyway; there was just so much one could do with a video like that! Nothing truly evil mind you, but something a bit playful that took away his other easier choices was maybe on the proverbial horizon at some point, especially if he responded to our taunting in a positive manner.

It was but a few long seconds before I flashed my headlights and drew my androgynously dressed husband's attention; Ken filming and narrating with snarky commentary the entire time. We made my husband walk the whole length of the parking lot in his borrowed pink flip flops and skin-tight yoga pants to get to my car; so much fun.

... His face had lit right up in relief when he first saw us, and once within a few feet of my car he even hammed up his steps, swishing his hips and flopping his limp-wrist in exaggerated femininity for both Ken's phone and my eyes, and as it turned out one other pair of eyes too. I playfully even locked my car's doors when he pulled the handle the first time, all so he'd have to ask nicely for a ride home; it was that kind of a fun interaction for all of us.

It's all he could talk about on the rest of the ride home, he was just so animated and alive once again; something wonderful to see with his ongoing "guy-problems." So, while obviously a bit uncomfortable and "out-there" on some level, there was an undeniable "something" within him that maybe liked being put on display like this, being forced to perform a bit more publicly.

It was a minor ordeal in the big scheme of things, but there was no mistaking his elation at having survived it unscathed. No wallet, nor even his cellphone in his possession, as my borrowed yoga pants were the kind that didn't have pockets for either, (actually one inside the waistband that he must have missed being unfamiliar with the garment) so he was totally dependent on "our" charity in giving him a ride home. I suppose hitchhiking was another potential option, but in a risk vs reward calculation truly not wise.

Obviously not something for a man with an easily bruised masculine ego that needs to be pumped all the time, but that's simply not my husband, most certainly with what he's going on lately with his recent guy-problems. Men get overt masculinity and confidence from their working guy parts, it's simply part of who they are; our limited chastity-play had already taught me that. This man-disfunction thing he has going on is a bit different than chastity-play too though, so crashing-testosterone ruining both his desire and ability, not building it up in desperation like going a few weeks in chastity without an orgasm did... even just a few short "pre-covid" years earlier...

So, to get back on track, story-wise, this crazy vacation-thing with Ken obviously looks like it's actually going to happen, Ken passed the proverbial audition, and in a way so did hubby in his submissive supporting role. The rest of the ride home was uneventful, and once back home for just a few days we're at the point where we can't alter the arrangements any longer; so simply put, Ken has a plane ticket, and hubby doesn't. Therefore hubby needs to be made to disappear for everybody's best interest, and our camper is actually perfect for this, designed specifically for off the grid comfort up in the proverbial middle of nowhere, and out of both sight and mind on Ken's remote land.

"We've never done something like this for two weeks straight before though; hubby hasn't ever been abandoned for near that long, nor have Ken and I been together, nonstop, for that long either. So, lots of firsts coming our way in the very near future; ready or not," I tell myself. It goes like this for us sometimes, a crazy naughty concept for adult-fun is one thing, but the practical reality, with all those little necessary details to be synchronized and sorted out, is obviously something else.

Hubby has actually been on remote job assignments for longer in the past though, so the precedent for us being away from each other does exist (a few times while also playfully locked in chastity) although not ever with Ken in the mix, as back then he'd been happily married at the time to wife number one. When hubby got home from those trips it was "game-on" too though, like we couldn't get enough of each other; but that was also long before his man-problems too...

So in the here and now, (with the few days left we have together) there's just a certain feeling in the house between hubby and I; the day of departure marked on our calendar marching ever closer as I cross each day off in giddy anticipation. I'm going on an awesome vacation someplace I've always wanted to go, but with a willing and able manly playmate; so a vacation of another kind as well from my own near-celibacy.

Hubby is to have a far different experience, although the celibacy part will unfortunately be about the same for him no matter where he lays his head; that's not necessarily my fault, but it's still a bit unfair for such a genuinely kind man. He volunteered for this ticket-swap though, specifically asked for it, but my conscience is still in doubt on some of the finer details; the times I'm paying attention to my conscience that is.

It's hard to put to words, but a "growing distance" between us maybe explains part of what I'm feeling; and to be fair here not all of that is coming from my husband. Not that it's exactly the same emotional feeling, but it's like when you've given notice at one job, but haven't physically left yet, something we playfully call "short-timer" syndrome at the office.

So I have an idea or two now for how this "ordeal" can be uniquely challenging and still fun for hubby too, but I keep coming back to wanting his consent, for my own conscience if nothing else. I float two similar last minute ideas for his two week marooning upstate in our camper; in one I use Ken's own mischief as inspiration and Ken and I strip him nude and dump him off just like that, with just a pair of sneakers to protect his feet. He likes being nude anyway, so much so that back in our teenage-days we sometimes teased him by calling him "nature-boy." The second option is we dump him off with a suitcase of his own, to be privately packed by me though, and seeing how naturally my borrowed clothes fit him gives me a pretty good idea what I should pack; so primarily "hand-me-downs" from the back of my closet.

I'll have no control over him wearing, or for that matter not wearing what's in that suitcase of his, so the suitcase option could obviously morph into the nude option too; without daily supervision. Two weeks is a long time without any clothing though, (recent reality shows notwithstanding) it's still warm enough out this time of year during the day, but also chilly at night, especially up north. He'll likely have to make a few trips all the way down to the stream to gather replenishment water for the camper too though, and something to wear might be good insurance in case somebody happens to see him that far from the camper. At a distance, even without makeup, he's quite passable as he's not terribly tall or heavy, so this still works as a viable disguise.

It's also Ken private property though, so there shouldn't really be anybody wandering around to accidentally see him no matter how he's dressed, but that's not a guarantee that it won't happen anyway. For hubby, the taboo thrill of being stripped and dumped off someplace really twists him up, but in a good way. It's the helplessness, the potential humiliation, he tells me it just pushes his proverbial submissive-kink buttons. Remove the clothes and you remove the masculine costume, (especially these days for him) and what's left is the fragile human beneath. My husband is just more naturally submissive when he's kept nude too, something both Ken and I have observed and used to our mischievous advantage over the years.

No personal human interaction for two weeks, no matter how one is dressed, is a very long time though, such could drive him bat-shit crazy without something to stimulate his naturally curious mind. So, he'll at least have his personal phone for texting with us to intermittently ensure his sanity, but the speed and stability of the limited signal up there makes the internet frustratingly slow with it's perpetual buffering, or so Ken has already told me. So no "the world instantly at your fingertips" world wide web for him, but there are other ways to occupy an active mind.

The other potential problem is who to contact if something should go sideways, and how, if of course the phones don't work reliably? In a true survival-emergency you'd call or text the authorities via 911 and let the chips fall where they may, (I'm told that such calls have the highest priority on every cell tower) but something short of that and still requiring outside intervention is more my concern...

Putting that thought temporarily aside for a moment I have a Kindle, and yes I do read some racy things on it as there are like a million eBooks on the subject, so I download several with related themes for hubby; cuckold, hubby-submission, and "wife on an overnight date with boyfriend" scenarios prevail, because he's my husband and I know first-hand what turns him on. Then one titled "Dressed And Maid To Serve" with a quite passable cross dressed maid-husband as the cover art, which is near enough to what we've actually done in the flesh within our home. Inspiration for our potential future, or just to confirm for hubby that our unique playful kink maybe isn't all that unique; who knows, perhaps a bit of both if he's receptive?

Now in our specific maid's-games he was made to serve me exclusively, which was an appreciated break from house-chores for me at the time; but only in small doses as it's not something I could do every day. Not to make excuses, but I just have to be in a certain mood myself to play like that with hubby, (it's truthfully exhausting) and these days "little-hubby" doesn't really want to play along either, so no physical "reward" for his labors, nor obviously for mine in a more traditional way.

Yes, he selflessly does for me in the ways that he presently can, but these days the passion is also lacking. For me there's just no substitute for passion, for the real "pin my arms to the bed and make me struggle and squeal" thing either. Ken's open availability once again has reminded me of all this, (of what I'm missing out on) and this time it's not hubby "choosing" not to participate for the sheer cuckold-kink of wife-sharing, but his physical inability to participate that has landed the three of us here together.

So without the passion even fantastic oral is just not something I'm drawn to naturally do with him any longer, unless my own desperation gets the best of me, and even then it's a "this will do to scratch that particular itch" kind of mentality. So like drinking water when you're thirsty, good for what it is I suppose, but maybe something with a bit more flavor and kick is what you're really after...

So despite vowing not to ask any longer, I do so anyway, and I ask hubby if he's into an extended game along the lines of the maid-games we've played in the past. I'm trying to get my mental ducks in a row here, settle this little detail so I can have my fun with Ken as guilt-free as humanly possible while choosing a well known lover over a dysfunctional husband. This maid-thing isn't something I could do for him back at home for two weeks straight for several reasons, but he still won't commit and instead tells me passively that he want's me to decide for him. Not exactly what I want from him though, (it's a battle of wills that I'm unfortunately losing) as I want him to have some input into this; for my own purposes I want to do this for him, not to him.

I therefore want him to tell me verbally what he wants to do, or at least what he'll actually do and still like, and he's just not playing along; it's exasperating. I obviously have a really good idea what he might like to be "made" to do, but I won't personally be there to see how he handles this little adventure hour by hour, day by day. Such limited feedback, (potentially via text message only) would naturally lead a loving soul like myself to pick something for him that can't possibly offend him, nor crash his long-term kink-motivations to play along.

The likely problem with doing it that way, (for my very unique and giving husband specifically) is the only thing guaranteed will be a boring "sentence" of two weeks in solitary confinement in a remote prison cell, (albeit a comfortable one) and this just isn't the experience I want him to have. He's personally giving so much for Ken and I to have this illicit experience together, he simply deserves so much more than just being marooned by himself someplace, with nothing to occupy his mind other than what's he's given up personally for a friend in need, not to mention his needy wife.

... I know, I know, cuckolds have this love-hate, yin-yang thing going on with the whole self-created cuckold angst emotional turmoil, they both crave and seek-out that specific gut churning feeling; even though it's painful in it's own unique way. It's truthfully something I don't one hundred percent get, but that doesn't mean it's not real for him, nor that I won't try to provide such for him just as richly as he can stand it either. So in short, if he want's a twisted-up, wife on an extended vacation with another man mind-fuck, I'll give him one like never before...

I then try a different tack, and I ask him a bit more directly if he could play maid, or at least dress up fem for the entire time he's up there in the camper. I explain my two-part reasoning; there's no time like the present to try out his submissive female alter-ego in extended fashion, and if anyone happens to see him at a distance, he's just an anonymous woman in a camper, all alone, not somebody naked and in distress that needs "rescue."

His face tells me the answer even before his lips can, this is obviously exciting for him, but exciting to be "forced" to do it, therefore making me do this "to him," with no masculine options otherwise. Ken's the major complication in going "full-fem" like this here though, as I don't necessarily want to share this "dressing-up" aspect of hubby's submission to me; it's our little personal game just between us... but more on that in just a bit.

This is really taking me out of my own personal comfort zone though, but I also know "forced" to do anything sexual turns my husband on mentally, even if he can't necessarily take that to the expected "happy-ending" manly physical conclusion these days. I want him to have a very special one of a kind experience here too though, and done this way it will still be as private as I can manage, and far longer, nonstop, than I could ever have managed at home for him as well; so total immersion in his faux-feminine persona. Maybe he loves it, maybe he hates it instead, but if the latter he can always revert to being our "nature boy" and doing his ordeal in the nude too.

"Am I providing for a one-time "bucket-list" extended feminine experience for him, or encouraging an audition for the next sexless part he want's to perhaps play in my life a bit more permanently?" I should have asked myself; but truthfully it didn't occur to me at the time.

With my last-minute decision finally made (and my proverbial ducks finally in a proper row, freeing me to have fun myself) I tell him that I need to go last-minute shopping, and I ask if there is anything special that he'd like, as in to eat, or even be "compelled" to wear. With my short list made I go to the shopping mall first, and I buy what I think will fit him based on what I know he already wears and fits into for me in his maid's persona, mixed in with some of my own "hand-me-downs" that he can squeeze his little ass into. Just like my borrowed yoga pants they will fit him, his ass tiny compared to my own more womanly one.

He has a stylish short bob wig already from his maid's alter-ego persona, and it wasn't a cheap synthetic one either, so it actually looks fairly natural and passing on him, most especially if he ditches his masculine eyeglasses and wears his contacts; so we'll go with that as his singular feminine hairstyle. I like the way the wig compliments his facial features and hides his ringless ears, and my original thinking, (back when I initially bought it to be worn with his maid's uniform) was that if somebody accidentally saw him in our windows, they'd likely think he was the real-deal and we hired on a part-time maid. His "uniform" was a bit on the leggy-short side to make that a straight-up real-world possibility, but it was better than nothing. Not something one would really expect to see in our working-class neighborhood, but neither was my husband being fully dressed as my maid with short "guy-hair" and cleaning my house for me like a slave.

So I'm keeping everything as much of a surprise for him as possible by packing out his suitcase in private, to include my Kindle, and even a paper notebook and pens, for a low-tech diary of his daily thoughts and experiences, if he so chooses. I have a short note in there too, thanking him for this gift, and promising that I'll do everything within my power to make Ken forget all about his problems back home; the ostensive reason for taking him in place of my husband in the first place.

I don't know if hubby will actually wear any of what I pack for him, but it will at least fit, and likely even look good on him if he just does a bit of feminine grooming on the front end. I also bought some last minute things for myself to wear as well, for my stand-in vacation-husband Ken, as he deserves a special surprise or two for himself.

This last minute shopping trip makes this "really-real" in my mind, as in it's going to happen in mere days, and it's just so naughty and "out-there" that I can't help but to smile ear to ear with this grand deception that we're pulling off; but honestly I've been doing that almost perpetually since Ken started rocking my world again. I'm not hiding my "life is fricken awesome" happy demeanor either, nor is Ken for that matter, and my husband is perceptive enough to notice this on both of us; and also know the true reason too.

Hubby is therefore going to have the rare opportunity to try something few others possibly ever could; total immersion into this new faux feminine identity for two whole weeks straight. I'll get to do almost the same with Ken down in the islands though; get to pretend to be another's lusty wife, or perhaps a "rings-off" vacation-paramour even, all while hubby gets to pretend to be a stranded single woman on her own in a remote camper.

Getting home from shopping and still sporting a perpetual "we really shouldn't be doing this" naughty smile our new next door neighbor John, (the one who caught Ken and I going at in on the deck like two teenagers during the heat wave) walks towards me to say hello. I walk to our shared property line and greet him at the boundary, wondering to myself if I remembered to tell him of our vacation plans. "Maybe hubby did?" I theorize, but in truth I've both had a million other things going on lately, and I've been avoiding him too, so as not to have an awkward conversation about Ken and I that I didn't want to have.

Anyway, I tell John about our trip as I stand there with the bagged special clothes I purchased for hubby, his eyes wandering to the lacy contents printing through the thin "Victoria's Secrets" bags, thinking to myself "if he only knew who some of those were for?" So we discuss "our" itinerary and destination, (I specifically remember not to mention Ken at all) and I ask him to please watch the house for us. Our other neighbors are already getting the mail, but I didn't want to exclude him either. He suggests exchanging phone numbers, which I haven't done yet as I was avoiding him to be honest. It's a good idea now obviously, and I apologize for my earlier social faux-pas, which he's most gracious in accepting.

Then he drops a proverbial bomb on me, telling me that he noticed that I had a maid back when he first moved in, (he saw her briefly on the back deck once) and he's asking if he could have her contact information for his own home. He goes on to describe her, short bob hairstyle, leggy uniform dress and all, but then as an almost afterthought he asks if we were happy with her services. In my mind it's not the logical order of such an inquiry, a normal person would ask if we were happy with her first, and then maybe enquire about her availability if the first answer was positive.

This of course suggests to me that he already knew the answer to the first question, which also possibly means he knows my maid's true identity. Now perhaps I understand his real interest in my lingerie bags, and the other feminine garments too, like short-shorts and feminine tops that show a fair bit of skin. He can't know the specific sizes from such a casual observation though, so there is at least that tiny bit of anonymity.

Not one word from him about watching Ken taking me all the way to the flippin moon and back on that very same deck though, but the implication for me is that his silence might be purchased by hooking him up with my "leggy" maid.

"Is John interested in cross-dressed men, my man specifically, knowing I now have Ken in my life too, or does he just want somebody to actually do his housework for him, just like I do sometimes?" I ask myself. I can't personally fault him for the latter without becoming a full-on hypocrite, but I'm just not sharing my husband with anybody for any kind of sex; sharing might be my husband's unique kink, reinvigorated by his recent manly disfunction, but sharing my spouse isn't mine. He's mine, I've put in the necessary work on the front end, and I'm reaping the rewards.

Here I am though, painted into a corner by both my own naughty actions, and occasional free household labor too. But, I don't know John well enough to know what he truly intends for my maid; just cleaning his home, or something a bit more intimate and personal? I pretty sure hubby personally wouldn't be up for either, and most certainly not the latter, as with his disfunction there would literally be nothing in it for him. Not something I'd like to personally watch either, no judgements here though...

Dressing him up was part of a playful submission game that we played together as husband and wife, but I don't see him wanting to sexually submit to our neighbor and therefore play for the other proverbial team, no matter how he happens to be dressed. Nothing wrong with people who choose that route, live and let live and all of that, but it's just not hubby, and again; even if it somehow was, I simply don't share. But, I catch myself making a rather far reaching assumption here as well though; "does my neighbor actually realize that my maid wasn't a natural woman?" By his own words he only saw "her" briefly, maybe even at night as I can't imagine hubby stepping outside in broad daylight while dressed up like that...

"Smoking is bad for you you know" I tell John, opening that proverbial door and making it easy for him to clarify his intentions one way or the other. The last time I had seen him smoking had been THAT night, and this obviously invites linkage between one illicit action and potentially another.

"I think we both might have some bad habits" John offers with a knowing smile. It's a witty and nuanced thing to say, so John has actually surprised me here a bit with his quick wit. I like an engaged and quick mind in a man, in an odd sort of way I find it dominant and sexy, although many of my girlfriends find it off-putting and cocky.

"Touche" I offer with a smile. John doesn't come off like a dominant jerk here at all though, and his body language is anything but confrontational, so I'm still not quite sure what he's after; what proverbial box to place him within in my mind. I don't know that I'd like to have something physical going on with our young neighbor myself, (if he even prefers women) as my life is complicated enough already with both Ken and hubby in the mix now, and also there's the fact that Ken just doesn't share either. Hubby shares, he pretty much always has, but Ken one time only as a teen, with three of his older work friends on a very wild night up at his cabin, and that hadn't been all that good for him either. It was over the top fun for me in the literal moment, once, but not so much fun that I ever needed a repeat either.

"I should give you both of our numbers" I tell John while changing the subject, and we exchange numbers like we probably should have already, telling him that I'll inquire if our maid is open to "taking-on" other customers, in a rather unintentional double-entendre. He thanks me, and for now at least I've bought myself some time to sort this little maid's-mess out...

So the day of our departure is finally the very next day, and to get hubby dropped off at the camper (and still actually make the airport on time) we need to leave very, very early, so Ken is both driving, and sleeping over to make the logistics a bit easier. Hubby makes dinner for all three of us and cleans up too, so further maid-like self-deportation in leaving Ken and I to have some private time in the living room together. We'll soon have two weeks nonstop with each other, but still hubby was making this possible while he was with us...

On his phone Ken shows me the video from the highway rest stop that he made, his commentary the second time around was very funny, "look at him strut his stuff" and "check out that horny truck driver checking out his ass in those pants." I actually missed that part in the heat of the moment, but Ken was right; one big burly truck driver man in particular was watching my husband walk across that parking lot like a lion looks at an injured gazelle limping crossing the Serengeti plain, like a yummy hot meal just waiting to be devoured!

Then Ken is occupied searching endlessly for something watchable on one of the several streaming services that we have, "a thousand different titles, and they all suck!" Ken quips, pretty much just like hubby does. Anyway, our bags are already fully packed and checked (to include my special one for hubby) and there really isn't anything else left to do; hubby most efficient when in his element domestically. My rings are already removed and hidden in the house too, but I don't know if hubby had noticed that little detail yet either...

When hubby finally comes in to join us I can see that he obviously has something on his mind, and I think "he's noticed my missing rings, here we go!" To be fair here it's not like Ken and I were making out or anything like that, but we were still sitting intimately "thigh-to-thigh" close from watching Ken's video, as there was no earthly reason to move away from Ken afterwards, and we're also speaking in intimately-quiet "I have a secret" tones. We're sitting almost on top of each other, and watching Ken's lips move makes me want to kiss them; no matter who happens to be watching.

.. Ken is here and enticingly close, but in comparison hubby almost isn't here, even though he still is physically...

Everything here is therefore still leaning towards my husband self-deporting for this unique adventure to actually happen, body language and all; so while he's still legally my husband, he's just not acting like it with Ken in our home, nor really am I. Ken's snarky video was also still fresh in my mind, as in "what that big hulking man would have liked to do with my half-fem dressed husband, if only given the slightest opportunity." But how could it not be? My husband isn't into other men, but he is into submission, and that might have been his only option if that very large man somehow got ahold of him.

"I'm going to get a shower now, so all three of us don't have to in the morning" my husband tells us graciously, all while standing a respectful five feet away. It's almost as if he's asking permission, (all while not further intruding on our intimacy) rather than him telling us what he's intending, and for what purpose too. It's obviously still his home too, but with Ken here again it almost feels like my husband is the proverbial visiting guest, or perhaps servant, respectfully submitting to and serving the rightful masters of this home.

To be fair, the old Ken that we both know and love is back on top of his game again post marriage, so he once again just projects a certain something, a masculine dominant vibe I suppose, and I'll assume I'm not the only one to feel this now too. For me it suggests sex and submission, and adult fun fun fun, but not personally for my husband, I know this for a well established fact, despite the same-sex interest he'd generated in that parking lot. So for my husband it's selfless submission to another man without sex, where for me, with Ken, the one more naturally leads to the other.

This time it's a slightly more intense version of the way things usually go when I'm fooling around though; hubby becomes something less, so another man can temporarily become something more. This other man has almost exclusively been Ken, but over our many years together there have been one or two others to share my proverbial bed. And even with a signed husbandly "hall-pass" everything has to be so, so perfectly right for that "other-man" thing to actually physically happen, so in reality it very rarely goes beyond some playful flirting and inuendo, when I'm away from home myself and feeling the need...

My husband is obviously not being forced to do anything, he's doing this altruistically, for love of a friend in need; but my "dual-purpose" husband must get something from this himself too. The flip side of that is he can't decide three days from now that this isn't fun any longer. Well, I suppose he actually could do that, but he'd still be there anyway, marooned, miserable, and alone, intentionally dumped off without any transportation, without the freedom to come and go at will, all while Ken and I have our fun in the sun...

I'm not a monster either though, and for me to really let-go and be the kind of willing "anything you can dream up" partner that Ken needs right now, I have to also know in my mind that hubby is settled and safe, and having his own non-sexual version of fun too.

I can console myself and say that he really didn't want to go to the islands in the first place, that he chose this place specifically for me, that he also still has his unused safe-word, but once dropped off and marooned the safe-word becomes irrelevant. I'm to be a borrowed wife on vacation with a man other than my legal husband, and once again there's no ambiguity at all in what Ken and I will be doing together... for two whole weeks straight this time, if we don't get sick of each other first.

I suddenly have a foreboding epiphany, "what if all the kink wrapped up in this little adventure (kink that I specifically know used to get him off like nothing else) somehow brings him to orgasm on day one, or ever day three?" It's unlikely with his present man-issues, (we've both tried and frustratingly failed to get him off in a whole bunch of very creative and taboo ways) but if he gets too deep into the proverbial rabbit-hole thinking about what Ken and I are off doing together, he just might somehow rub one off anyway. Then of course this might instantly be not so fun for him, and therefore quite bad for his psyche while trapped and alone.

Back in our teenage "Ken-sharing days" I tried very hard not to let him have the opportunity to "self-orgasm," if possible. But back then it was in the form of no-privacy to do the proverbial dirty-deed, or even handcuffs behind his back to prevent access.

Back in the day when I did want to get him off, (without having actual sex) for whatever reason at all, it was fabricated stories of my cheating on him, or even against my will abduction scenarios in the form of an erotic backseat "hand-job" story. Such things pretty reliably brought him to a rather intense orgasms every time; but those orgasms also ruined his desire to play after the fact. If it was just hubby and I, and I was taking care of his manly needs like a good girlfriend might, all well and good "mission accomplished," but something to be avoided if Ken was involved and taking care of my own needs in his place.

Simply put, hubby had been conditioned since being a teenager to get off, or want to get off, when somebody else roughly has me; it's hardwired into his kinky brain at this point. And, while I had primarily done this to him over our many years, (on and off with Ken's help even) in my defense I just didn't know that we were inadvertently rewiring his brain. We're all a product of our environment and unique experiences after all, even the unintentional ones...

So I'm last-minute thinking of everything that can possibly still go wrong here while sitting all close and snuggly with Ken, smelling his manly essence, feeling his manly strength; and I realize that hubby popping off early, or really at all, is a very big "can't let it happen." I understand that this is unilaterally taking charge of another adult's very personal and intimate actions, hypocritically I might add, bearing in mind what I expect to be up to myself, but such actions also have the high probability of ruining this adventure, really for all three of us. In this particular case I'm heavily invested, as are the boys, so failure simply isn't an option here; even if one of us has to pay a bit more of a proverbial price than the other two.

So, with this fresh conclusion in mind I excuse myself from Ken's presence and wander back to the master ensuite where hubby is getting ready to shower, all so Ken and I can have fresh hot showers in the morning ourselves. I didn't tell him to do this, he just did it out of respect and courtesy; giving the best to others and taking only what will do for himself. It's who hubby is at this point in life, so very giving and selfless, especially for a man. To be fair though, I've noticed this a bit more vibrantly ever since his dysfunction, perhaps the more sensitive feminine side of him coming to the forefront. So while not a straight-up masculine trait, it's still endearing to the sensitive side of my own character.

I know what he needs here too though, really I always had, but an unbefitting lack of courage and necessary leadership on my part had me vacillating and giving choices where none were needed, nor desired. The fault was my own in this; lesson learned and hopefully "crisis-averted." I'll need Ken to back me up on this going forward, (be strong and firm where I can be weak) but that's a different conversation.

"Shave everything you can reach just like back when you were my maid, and call me for any touchups. And, when you're done put our H. T. V5 nub on and hand me both keys. If your guy parts aren't working it truly won't be a hardship, but if they somehow can work, even just one time... well we both know what that does to your kink level. This is for your own best interest, and truthfully for 'ours' too, so there will be no further discussion on the subject," I tell him directly.

My words are both firm and loving, "this is what you're doing, and why you're doing it" but this most certainly isn't a request either, and my tone tells him such. I'm in charge, as is Ken once again, and anything that goes wrong is therefore on us and not him. It's one thing to take charge, but quite another to take responsibility, removing that responsibility from those that willingly submit to you. In my experience, (living with a sometimes submissive man) it's what frees him from his daily responsibilities, so he can let go, have fun, and let another take on that responsibility on for a while; so for him really the ultimate vacation. For how long, this time specifically, I can't say just yet, the devil is in the details on that one. Ken is in the details too though, so much of this will depend on him, and on what he specifically wants going forward.

In this particular case it's a vacation from both his husbandly duties, and his problematic masculinity, if he still wants to go all the way "there" with my gifted-clothes suitcase. So it's also a vacation from his being responsible for my physical happiness, something he knows he's falling well short of these days. Our emotional love is deep and unconditional, but our physical love is in an obvious state of flux, and a bit of masculine Ken, guilt-free, is also appealing to the sometimes needy woman within me. Ken is like a somewhat-safe drug, he makes me feel desired, young, and alive again; and who doesn't want a bit of that every now and then?

"This vacation is an experiment for me as well though, as in it will either prove, or disprove something else; as in do I just need a proverbial occasional 'fix' in the form of Ken's manly attentions, or more of a daily prescription for the rest of my life?"

It's both a gift and a burden for Ken as well, but what my husband is giving in return is pretty awesome too, not to mention what I bring to the proverbial table. He selflessly agreed to this adventure though, and he had to know how it would go once I got properly into my "needy" character with Ken again, just like I was back in my teens when Ken was rocking my world somewhat regularly then too. The only thing left now was to get Ken fully on board, fully into this latest domination-game once again, have him take that next necessary step himself...

"Yes ma'am, and thank you," my husband replies respectfully. So much communicated with both a few words, and a particular expression on his face; so for him both relief, and excitement, in equal measure. This is after all an adventure of discovery for him too; we're never too old to learn something about ourselves after all.

"You're welcome. Oh, by the way, you somehow let next-door John see you in your maid's attire, I think he knows it was you, but I'm not one hundred percent certain. In any event, amusingly enough he want's to hire my maid for himself, wants her contact information; I told him I'd think about it."

"Would you actually rent me out?" hubby asks, but surprisingly enough his tone isn't necessarily one of "oh-shit" dread and revulsion, more of "how could we make that work and still actually live here?" The short answer is we likely couldn't, but this gets the creative wheels in my head turning in an ever so slightly different direction; "perhaps not here with this specific neighbor, but someplace else maybe?" I think to myself. "Potential babysitting service for my submissive and dressed maid, so Ken and I could have some time for ourselves?" I further ponder.

This unfortunately also means that our kinky secret is no longer a true secret, and that means Ken will find out eventually anyway, as likely will all of our neighbors in good time; it's just too good of a secret to keep to oneself. John knows we get up to adult mischief now too, he's seen it first hand on our deck in two very different forms, and still he's kept that naughty secret this long, perhaps only for his own illicit purposes down the proverbial road though. He maybe even wants to be included in our adult games going forward, in some way or another, but playing with neighbors is obviously very risky too.

"You know what I have to do now; don't you?" I ask hubby rhetorically. Hubby nods his head, I haven't asked him if this is okay, but we both know it's the next logical step, and better coming from one of us rather than the neighbor. It's just another kinky game that we've played, but obviously not one I ever wanted to share with anybody else, to even include Ken. I'll present it properly to him though, put the proverbial proper spin on it, "it's all just a kinky game, blah, blah, blah." Truthfully he's seen a small part of that game already with my husband's borrowed clothes routine, and unless Ken is a dolt, which he's most certainly not, he'll realize that some of this wasn't a first for hubby.

With hubby's orders given I slip back out to Ken to have a conversation that I honestly never wanted to have. Humbling enough to have Ken learn recently that my husband has serious man-problems, but it's a different thing entirely to fully involve him in this specific gender-kink that hubby and I get up to in private. Ken is also a man's man, and "fem-anything" is a bit of a stretch for somebody like that. It almost certainly doesn't fit the "man" template in his mind, but in that is perhaps opportunity too...

"Everything okay?" Ken asks with genuine concern when I reenter the living room, and it's the perfect opening to share what I thought I'd never have to.

I tell him yes, and no, and I go on to explain that our neighbor John caught us being kinky, and keeping that secret just got exponentially more challenging. Ken knows about John spying on us on the deck that hot summer night, (he was obviously there) and he naturally assumes it's this that I'm referring to. I tell him it was something else though, and his playful "do-tell" and warm smile are the perfect opening. It's not lost on me either that Ken's request for further information is no more of a request than mine was with hubby a few moments earlier. Levels of leadership and command and all of that, telling me Ken has seamlessly slipped into the "top-dog" position with the three of us, hubby necessarily at the very bottom of that proverbial pile though.

Ken's an unconditionally accepting and loving friend, but trust me he's not without his own faults, or so I'd assume his exes' would gladly attest. He's a manly man that I've know all of my adult life though, and for my own selfish purposes I happen to need a big stiff dose of that elixir these days. Without Ken in the picture hubby's intimate problems are more directly my intimate problems too, and I'd be left with the logical conclusion that it possibly was me.

I then tell Ken a bit more specifically about our "maid's-games," and his response is almost anti-climatic, like "is that it?" So maybe not a total surprise for him that hubby would willing do such, and this makes me wonder why. No matter that though, he has the perfect tone and attitude, even if it isn't one hundred percent genuine, but this is also in keeping with hubby's known propensity to self-deport when Ken and I are playing our own games...

So I've already asked once for Ken to up his "jerk" game here, and I need him to understand that entails "owning" both my husband and myself, so as nicely as I can say it; "no more mister nice guy!" Marooning my husband upstate while Ken came back home to me, to eventually share my bed after a few tense moments, was obviously a very good start. As was stripping and taking my husband's clothes, (that little mischief was truly inspirational for me) but we'd both likely need even more of the same from Ken going forward. If I'm making this easy for hubby by taking charge, I NEED Ken to do the same for me, really for both of us!

I can't even tell Ken what this might entail yet, but I can ask him to be open to any possibilities that arise, kind of like his creative way of dealing with hubby's forgotten clothes. Ken is ordinarily quick-witted and snarky, and it's nice to see that aspect of his well know character making a resurgence. It's obviously not for most women, but I'm not put off by it personally as I know him quite well; as in I know his kind heart.

Hubby has a safe word this time too, (the boys apparently worked that out on the long drive up with the camper in tow) so there's an "escape-clause" going forward, and by that I mean even after this vacation in the islands. Hubby being chastity-caged again will go a long way towards further promoting his submission, to both of us, although this is something I truly thought unnecessary (with his disfunction) until this very day...

So back in the living room Ken took some time to find a "good" movie while hubby was quite busy shaving and showering in the master suite, long enough that it's gotten dark out, but neither of us has turned on any lights, so the feeling is dark, moody, and intimate in the living room. The movie ended up being Indecent Proposal, with Robert Redford; Ken starting the movie (with a side-eye look from me) and once again honing his jerk persona while obviously expecting hubby to join us on the couch at some point. For this most recent adventure we three were embarking on it would have been quite the movie to watch together; but it just didn't go like that.

Anyway, like half-way through the movie (that I'm hardly watching, as parts of it are actually a bit uncomfortable for me) my out of sight hubby calls up the hall softly (as if not to disturb our dark-room intimacy) to tell us both that he was going to bed... "If that's okay?" He adds a heartbeat later. It was odd enough behavior even before my adult husband ask to go to bed, but doubly so to have him ask both Ken and I by implication; at a very respectable distance where he couldn't possibly see what we were up to I might add.

He didn't actually say "may I please?" but his tone did that for him. Hubby can say a few things at once with just a few well chosen words and inflection though, he's positively gifted at such things, so this isn't necessarily him misspeaking. His tone is soft, respectful, and most certainly non-challenging, dare I say full-on submissive and ever so slightly feminine.

In my mind's eye I can almost see what he presently looks like while standing there, not a hair on his body below his eyebrows, and a tiny transparent emasculating device that all but disappears against his smooth pale skin, all while compressing what's already atrophied and shrunken from long-term non-use. I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but he also has very nice legs for a man, (very feminine and shapely) and shaved clean nose to toes (even though he's not a very hairy man) makes him look especially fragile and innocent all over, little "man-boobs" and all. It was an eye-opener the very first time this really occurred to me, (with teenaged Ken standing right next to me for easy comparison) but for me it's long since just part of who he is.

Before I can verbally respond, Ken hits the pause button on the remote, with Robert Redford and Demi Moore on Robert's yacht about to toss the two headed coin, marooning her worthless movie husband a few moments earlier on the helicopter pad; all so Robert can have the million dollar prize uninterrupted. It was a huge, huge bit of movie-magic irony to pause it exactly there! Anyway, Ken then tells hubby yes for both of us, that he should go to bed right now and get a good night's sleep, as he has a big day tomorrow, and we (meaning Ken and I) can always sleep on the plane. Ken's tone isn't quite as if he's speaking to a child, but it's not like he's speaking to a fellow man either.

I'm already getting seriously worked up snuggling up in the dark with Ken while ignoring the movie's more awkward parts, but Ken upping his game here significantly by answering for both of us like this bumps that up a notch, and as I look at Ken in profile, (his muscular arm around me possessively) I think he really gets that this is what I need in the here and now. For hubby I actually think this might be a bit over the top, even though he invited it with his own submissive tone, however my empathy was as lacking for him as it was for Demi's movie husband Woody, with my overriding desire for this man who's much closer to me physically. To be fair, Ken has done exactly what I've asked here in flexing his dominant "jerk" muscles with us, and he deserves to be instantly and generously rewarded for such.

"Thanks, and good night guys," I hear in the same soft tone, all without a touch of irony or sarcasm either. I can't remember the last time I didn't get a husbandly kiss goodnight either; when he was actually home at least... Then I hear a door close, but I'm so flustered by this little spontaneous interaction that I didn't fully understand the implications what I heard.

With the door closed I still know hubby is on one side of it, and Ken and I are on the other, and with that obvious separation I finally lean over to find his lips; Ken's an excellent kisser, but he pretty much always has been. We make out a bit with Robert and Demi still on the yacht; doing who-knows-what, as I stopped watching at that point while being half-on Ken's lap. Ken's hands are all over me, and mine are all over him, we're soon in a full-blown panting lust for each other on the couch, with my husband likely not even fully asleep yet in bed. He might even be able to hear us, but then again he might just assume it's the TV. For all intents and purposes though he's just been put to bed by Ken like a ten year old on a school night; so does he really have any grounds to complain, is there any real expectation that he'll suddenly "man-up" while shaved clean and wearing a tiny plastic chastity cage?

"I'm just not going to be able to sleep!" I confess, lust dripping from every syllable.

"Me neither!" Ken tells me breathlessly as we both look towards the kitchen, and the back deck beyond. It's a naughty little option for us once again, but it's a bit chilly out there this time of year at night, and there's potentially "watching-John" to consider too. Maybe ten more minutes of both the movie playing in the background, and making out, and I know I HAVE to have Ken, either on this couch, or more preferable in a bed; as that's the only way I'll properly sleep now. Yes, there's obviously another way, but why go "there" with this wonderful, deserving, and fully-functional man in such close proximity.

I think we both have the same spontaneous idea of sneaking into the guest bedroom and trying to be as quiet as possible, although that's unlikely with how wound up I am. Anyway, with the TV still playing (so as to cause any husbands who may be listening to think that we're still out watching that TV together) we make our way stealthily towards the guest bedroom, curiously finding the door closed and locked though.

Ken and I share a look, but with little other choice and a surplus of unanswered lust we silently turn towards the only other sleeping-option master bedroom, and we find it unoccupied. Stranger yet, on each of the two pillows rests one of the keys to hubby's chastity device, laying there for each of us almost like a hotel-mint, the unique round key impossible to mistake for anything else. Ken and I share a look, nothing subtle in that little gift at all, and this was right after I thought Ken might have gone a bit far with the hubby-bedtime routine.

Our new keys and phones go on "our" respective nightstands, and our clothes fly off moments later, and we're making mad passionate love in seconds on the master bed, my body just not getting any more ready. Ken's neither, and I realize still again that I need this kind of spontaneous "throw me to the bed and manhandle-me" passion to feel womanly and complete. We're not going out of our way to be purposely noisy, but we're surely not being silent either.

It's so hot and passionate that it simply can't last though, with Ken dominantly on top and drilling deep with a repetitious slap, slap, slap, of flesh on flesh. His muscular arms are under me and pinning my body to his, his hands on my shoulders from below, fingers digging in like two human claws, ramming my body down onto his. The bed shakes and rattles, this is Ken being an absolute sexual animal, both of my legs flailing about like a rag doll's as I try to lock them around him. He's using my body for his gratification, so while I know that his passions are both off the charts hot and sincere, I also know it going to be a short ride too. In all fairness it was still good for me though, but I was just along for the proverbial ride this time as Ken was in full-domination "taker" mode.

Ken pops off violently and fills me with his hot seed while I'm held tight in his crushing grip, which caused my own thrashing big O while he was still occupied and riding through his, and only after we both came down from our insane passionate high he rolls off of me. He looks at me with a look of "what the hell did I just do?" But if he's looking to be rebuked for his temporary sexual insanity, it's not coming from me, as I gave him a loving kiss and told him honestly that it was fricken awesome. We're both sweaty from our brief exertions, and I can't possibly imagine that we didn't just wake my husband, if he was actually sleeping in the first place, right next door. It's not the way I like play-time with Ken to go these days, quite disrespectful really, under my giving husband's own proverbial roof too, but it was bound to happen eventually with the long-simmering passions reignited within both Ken and I. Terrible timing on this little lusty romp too, like one more day and it could be "anything goes" for both Ken and myself down in the islands a bit more privately.

"Our" room smells like sex now too, as do I, Ken making a womanly mess of me in record time this time. I lay as quietly as possible while trying to get control of my breathing and heart, (and my conflicted mind) listening to that thin wall that separates both rooms over the thump, thump, thump of my pounding heart, trying to hear any signs of conscious human activity. I may not be quite as bad as your typical man seems to be in this, but post orgasm my brain generally gets a bit more contemplative and logical. Anyway, after several seconds of listening the only thing I do hear is the TV that we left on, hoping perhaps that if hubby heard anything at all it might be that, or even mistaken for that...

... It seems like a dream that Ken and I just "did-it" with hubby just a few feet away, sleeping in the shared-wall guest bedroom, with like zero concerns (in the literal moment) given for his feelings here. It's not who I am, nor who Ken is either, but we had foolishly gotten ourselves all worked up, and in that particular lusty mindset, at that particular moment in time, hubby's close proximity became nothing more than a minor footnote. I could console myself and say that hubby needed to be properly dominated and put in his proverbial place to make this sharing adventure work for everybody again, and my instructions to him earlier were even going in this general direction anyway; but the reality of the situation was that I feared that I had gone too far here.

No matter that though, properly sated I drifted off into a deep but short sleep anyway...

... I open my eyes and listen carefully, then turning my head to the right I see the unmistakable bulky form of Ken sleeping right next to me in my bed, on hubby's side; "so it apparently wasn't a dream after all" I tell myself. It's still dark out and I smell coffee, but "our" bedroom door (that I know for a fact was closed for both Ken's and my own privacy) is now open, and I also see a dimmed light on in the direction of our kitchen. The TV is now off too, and since there are only three humans that should be inside this house presently, and bearing in mind that Ken and I are both accounted for, I assume the coffee is hubby's doing; as likely was our door being opened to allow us to wake gently while smelling it. It's a loving, serving, and respectful thing to do, which is in direct contradiction to how both Ken and I had treated him just a few hours earlier while jumping each other's bones like horny teenagers once again.

Truthfully it's not one of my finer wifely moments, and I get up so as not to wake Ken yet and make my way to the bathroom first, and then to get a short robe and apologize for my indiscretions to hubby in private. I look at our room critically, just like hubby likely did a few minutes earlier when he opened our door; clothing and underwear thrown all over the place in our haste to copulate. I'm prepared to rightfully take full blame here, as I could have quite easily shut Ken down in any number of ways a few hours earlier. I made an easy (in the heat of the moment) conscious choice though, one man over the other, a fully functional lover over a dysfunctional chastity-caged husband.

I don't even know the words I'll use with hubby, just something honest and sincere for this loving-husband like no other; simply put, few other men would tolerate such nonsense from any wife, dysfunction or not. I even still smell like both sex and Ken, but a shower in our ensuite will possibly wake Ken, and I don't want to turn this into any more of a two-on-one conflict than it already potentially is.

He's puttering in the kitchen when I first lay eyes on him in profile, totally nude, sans his very tiny transparent chastity device. He's shaved smooth and looking quite fem and fragile, but when he senses my presence and turns his face doesn't hold the hurt I'd expected to find. I'm also assuming he didn't think to grab something to wear in the morning, which also kind of implies he slept in the nude just like I did.

He hands me my coffee and we make eye contact, and I tell him that I'm so sorry, that things just got carried away last night. It's super honest, but also honestly indicative of a lacking character on my part too.

"Sorry for what?" he asks with a smile, granting me a blanket pardon on everything, without even properly asking for it first. So this is the way it will go; pretend that he heard nothing, that everything is as it should be, that we're to both go on our separate vacations and we're to worry about nothing back at home. I need to clarify though, or so goes my first instinct, but then I remember our exchange last night, how very naturally he submitted, to the both of us. There's a slightly different tone this time though, but the exact reason will elude me for a bit longer...

"So you wanted some privacy last night then?" I asked, while skirting the more obvious issue, walking a diplomatic fine line here while still allowing him his plausible-deniability ignorance as to what Ken were up to last night... in our marital bed with him actually home.

"Something like that" he tells me, and then he goes on to explain that he also didn't want to leave any dirty clothing in the house for over two weeks either. I remind him that he'll need to wear something on the way up to the camper anyway; but he turns this around by asking if he really actually did.

Hubby has allowed a great deal of latitude here with Ken's and my own most recent taboo antics, (truthfully he's encouraged it) and I'm now certain this is his way of asking for something even more for himself; which due to guilt alone I'm inclined to grant. Now this is very early in the morning, and being seen by somebody on the short walk to Ken's truck with the outside lights off is super unlikely, and taking him the whole way there in his skin, and dumping him off at the camper in the same, will make this something extra special for him too. Every mile further we get from our home just further commits him, there is no "I've changed my mind" option with nothing to wear in public, other than what I've packed for him.

At the same time I never wanted the humiliation aspect of parading hubby before Ken while only wearing his tiny device, (it's more than a tiny bit emasculating, by design) but doing it in this way will make that impossible. But, hubby did give each of us a key, he left one each on the very pillows he expected us to be sleeping on, so this is perhaps a big hint that hubby wants to share his chastity with Ken now too. Seeing is believing though, and Ken knowing of the tiny device, and actually seeing hubby wearing it in the flesh are obviously two different things. Hubby has invited this on himself though, by the gift of the keys, by encouraging Ken and I to sleep together with him home and listening; had he done it my way instead his device likely could have remained our private secret.

So my conclusion here is that not only is hubby somehow good with the way things have gone to date, but that he actually wants a further challenging ordeal, an additional level of control, from both of us though. So in a strange sort of way this is a grand gift from a loving husband, and both Ken and I would be remiss if we didn't take this gift and enjoy it fully. So much to sort out, so many nuances and layers to the proverbial onion that most wouldn't likely understand the magnitude of this gift, and not just for the next two weeks either. Not to sound too cliche or anything, but this is the first two weeks of the rest of our lives...

Ken has obvious plans for after this little vacation too, for all three of us, and not knowing what both guys discussed on their recent long journey together, I'm of the mindset that they worked things out between themselves, hence hubby's safe-word. Ken is single once again, and we're really complimenting each other physically, which leaves hubby as the only real problem going forward. He's my hubby for life though, but the nature of our unique FLR relationship also means that I don't need to choose, that I can have both men, and have each in my life going forward doing what they're truly gifted at...

I give hubby a kiss that likely tastes a bit like both Ken and coffee, and I tell him that I love him; that he could do better than me. He tells me that he loves me too, and that he couldn't possibly do any better; it's almost our sappy mantra these days, but hubby is getting more in touch with his softer emotions by the day.

"No rings?" hubby asks, telling me he had noticed. I tell him I didn't think it was right to wear them under the circumstances, and he agrees with me, but his tone reveals the little proverbial twist of the knife that really twists-up a cuckold-inclined man. He both craves and hates this unique rollercoaster-like feeling, all at the same time, in my mind it's related to the unintentional rewire-job both Ken and I had done on his kinky brain over the many years. It wasn't intentional, but it's still very real for him, so maybe a version of Pavlov's drooling dog.

I hear the toilet flush back in the master ensuite, and I know our brief intimacy has ended, Ken is awake and moving, and I fully belong to that other man now, for the next two weeks at least, and likely beyond even that. He comes out wearing hubby's borrowed robe as it was hanging in our bathroom, sending several messages all at the same time. Ken is playing his part, and that means both hubby and I must play our own.

The two make eye contact, Ken taking in the shaved and caged form of a man before him, his "wow, that thing is so small" comment either appropriate to describe his newest tiny chastity cage, or maybe less kindly what's trapped helplessly inert inside of it. I've read that the male appendage apparently shrinks from extended non-use, so while not a muscle, some of the same principals of "use it or loose it" do seem to apply. "Does extended chastity also play a role here?" I wonder...

"Cream, no sugar?" hubby confirms, handing Ken his properly prepared cup like a good little serf; Ken is in the room now, so hubby is intentionally being submissive, small, and obedient. I as well "feel" Ken's bubble of masculine presence, and I can't help but to notice how Ken's flaccid man-package still bumps out his borrowed bathrobe obscenely, while hubby's caged one all but disappears between his smooth thighs. Simply put, if you didn't think to look for it, you wouldn't know it was there! I smile inwardly at the obvious contrast, I know where Ken's man-package was just a few hours earlier, actually all three of us do.

It's once again a familiar dynamic in that little kitchen of ours, both Ken and I are (in a way) dressed, and hubby is "on-display" nude before us, serving us almost like he was back in his maid's-persona. He's still selfless and serving though, he actually makes the perfect maid.

Hubby asks if we need anything from the bedrooms, as he intends to strip the beds and gather the wash to put it into a big garbage bag for the shed, so it doesn't stink up the house. The tone is "asking" again though, just like last night and the bedtime routine, so both explaining his intentions, but still seeking permission. Ken and I look at each other, knowing the wrecked condition we left the bedroom in with our haste to copulate just a few hours earlier, but Ken answers for both of us again (presenting a united front) and tells him that's a wonderful idea.

Dismissed with more humbling maid's chores, (while Ken and I enjoy our hubby-made coffee at the table) hubby gets to work in both bedrooms, and I tell Ken softly about hubby knowing we were naughty last night, and my desire that he be driven up to the camper in his skin now, to further put him in the proper submissive mindset. Ken gives me a look like "really, is that necessary?" but he gives in to me as he thinks it's my idea, that maybe for whatever reason I'm feeling extra-sadistic towards hubby.

There are more than enough can goods and dry goods in the covered back of Ken's truck already, but the luggage and freezer items (once packed into a cooler) will also have to find their way out to Ken's truck, and Ken wonders aloud if this might be a good additional chore for hubby while we're in the shower, obviously while dressed as he is. Nobody is up yet, no lights are on in any houses but ours, although this is some serious potential exposure for hubby, not to mention humiliation, especially if he's seen and that little device is the only thing he's wearing.

I don't like the humiliation aspect of this though, I find it unnecessarily cruel and demeaning, "but what does hubby want and need here?" I ask myself. Hubby also doesn't need more choices here, he needs distractions, challenges, dominant direction even, anything to make this awkward morning pass quickly so both of us can get to what's next. Two separate vacation adventures, and obviously two very different adventures as well.

I tell Ken that if he uses the back door, and we keep the outside lights off, and he also walks between our cars and the house, his exposure will be minimal to the neighbors houses. I'm thinking out loud really, using Ken as a sounding board, perhaps looking for a reason not to have hubby do this for us.

"Do it then?" Ken asks, in perhaps a slight departure from his dominant jerk routine, but this was for me alone, and despite the part he's playing here for both of us, he really does care. He's not a bad man at all, if he were this could never work for a whole host of reasons. Ken wants hubby to have the experience he desires too though, and this requires him to be a bit firm and unyielding, maybe even a bit of an ass to somebody on the proverbial outside and looking in.

Hubby eventually come out without the garbage bag, and Ken asks where it is. Hubby suggests that the wet towels go in there too, so he left it back there for when we were done with "our shower." "Our shower," not "our showers," implying hubby thinks Ken and I are taking one together. It's more encouraged intimate-interaction from hubby, not that we have the time to go at it fully in the shower this morning; but if we did, we surely would have the opportunity as well this way too. I'm actually still a bit tender from Ken's hard pounding just a few hours earlier, but this is something I'm getting acclimated to once again too though.

Ken heard the same words I did though, hubby's nuanced encouragement for Ken and I to have further intimate interactions, but with him home here. I'm guessing this was easier and more natural feeling with him being nude and in chastity now, so nothing "manly" to freely offer up, no matter if it's working or not. So fair to say that this is full-on submission for hubby, and the both of us would have to be pretty numb to not see it.

"I've unlocked my truck already," Ken holding his fob aloft, "and I think it would save us all some time if you got our bags and the food out to it while we showered" Ken tells hubby.

"We'll leave the outside lights off" I add, just to say something, telling hubby by implication that Ken and I have already discussed this, and we're therefore together in this.

Hubby turns to get the bags and the second he does Ken and I share a look "called that one right" I think to myself.

"After the last load lock the house door behind you and lay down on my back seat, we'll be out when we're done" Ken further commands when hubby walks by us still drinking our coffee. The tone of these words were what I call non-confrontational "soft" commands though, just letting an underling know what you wanted them to do, without being overly rude about it.

Ken and I did end up taking a shower together, and he even went down on me in the shower, (after I got properly cleaned up) giving me a nice little orgasm, in his words, because I'll give off that "just-fucked" vibe; so more "jerk-mode" games from Ken. So, hubby was naked and locked out, by his own hand once his "Ken-assigned" simple chores were done, laying down in Ken's truck and waiting for Ken to be done with me. It's the raw exercise of power and dominance, so he had to feel just a little like a pet dog waiting for his master while in his truck.

Ken turns off the water and the hot water heater too, just in case, and with the wet towels inside the big garbage bag we lock the house up and he walks the bag towards the shed as I walk to his front passenger seat. I'm wearing a new dress to travel in, Ken likes me in dresses, even though this one wasn't necessarily "skin-flaunting" sexy. Hubby sees my dress once I step up into the truck and tells me that I look very good in it; and content too. He's not jealous, it's not really that tone, it's more of the vibe that he's happy for me; but I also realize that he can sense that I've just been intimate with Ken once again. This time though Ken actually did something for me that hubby could possibly do for me himself, but he obviously wasn't given the opportunity either.

I'm not asking if he's good with this any longer either, even though there's a part of me that wants to, however we're committed here, not to mention that Ken still needs this as much as I do. I've specifically dressed for my new man though, in the way he specifically prefers, hubby can see this little detail for himself too. Something in the truck's large door-mirror catches my eye now too though, Ken approaching from behind with something white in his hand.

It at first appears to be a straight-up act of kindness; Ken has a sheet to cover hubby up while laying on his big back bench seat. But, this is also the soiled sheet from our lovemaking just a few hours prior, so lots of wet sticky stains, and smelling very much like Ken and myself too. He hands the sheet back to hubby, who's staying low and out of sight with the truck's interior lights coming on still again, potentially drawing the attention of whoever might be watching at this early hour. Hubby can't help but to notice the pungent smell himself though, Ken spiking the proverbial ball in the endzone just a little bit with this "gifted" sheet.

So sufficient to say the drive up to the camper goes about as one might expect, we three smelling the evidence of Ken and I making love inside the cab of that truck the whole way. I sat close to Ken and kept him engaged in conversation to keep him awake, but our conversations were at a tone intended for our ears alone, the drone of the truck's engine further isolating the laying-down nude and caged hubby behind us. He's either was feinting sleep, or perhaps actually sleeping for all I know, as his day had started even earlier than ours had.

So it's further self-deportation for my husband either way, and he's making it extra easy too. So no conflict, really nothing at all to tell either one of us to lighten up or slow the pace. It may be outright projection on my part, but he seems genuinely content with how this adventure is going. It's different than when we were teens though, there is a more deliberate feeling to it, and I have to be honest with myself too here; Ken does this domination-thing quite naturally, something the woman in me obviously appreciates.

... The sun is just rising on this new day by the time Ken drives up next to our camper, Ken exiting and opening both gates a moment earlier has hubby stirring from his slumber. We share a last private look between us with Ken outside and occupied, so much communicated in that for two people who know each other as well as we do. To give a big tearful hug and kiss goodbye will crush what we're all collectively working towards, crush the mood, the scene Ken's working at here with both of us, not to mention what we're also trying to do for Ken himself. Nope, we all have our parts we must play here...

"Time to go Buttercup!" Ken announces crudely after flinging his truck's rear door open, feinting exasperation. He's even experimentally given hubby a brand-new feminine sounding nickname, while telling him to hurry up and get his naked ass out of his truck. Not that we were leaning towards a big emotional goodbye anyway, but Ken's wishes here are the ones that matter, and he's decided that this drop-off will be short and not so sweet; the proverbial "rip the band aid-off quickly."

"Nature boy" was his old nickname with us, but if I read into this just a bit I might come to the conclusion that the "boy" part of that no longer applies in Ken's mind. Hubby is both caged and dysfunctional, and while Ken might not know what I packed for him yet, he has seen him in my borrowed clothes, and heard of his maid's alter-ego too, so this makes logical sense. I may be married to a man, but for at least the next two weeks he's no longer really a man, so this is a gift of freedom for myself as well from both guys. Ken's a man though, there to fill the proverbial void...

It's cold and cruel seeming I'm sure, but I watched hubby and my naked Buttercup carry things to the camper from the comfort of the truck's cab, (Buttercup's steps dainty and light wile being barefoot, making him seem even more fem) and then Ken simply hopped into his truck and we left, locking the gates behind us without another look back. Hubby and Ken had perhaps a minute inside the camper while out of my actual sight, but there was no kiss goodbye, no soft final words from me...