The Cuckold Awakening


    Feeling lost is one of the worst ways to feel, alongside not being able to trust yourself, or your mind. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even my worst enemy.


    “Where do you go from here?” Jon asks, adding, “Anotherpany maybe?” Heughs but I know he isn’t joking.


    Okay, maybe I would wish it on my worst enemy. Because Jon deserves it.


    Roberta rolls her eyes as Birdie closes the office door on her way out. “Yeah, Whitmore, you really think he’s going to leave his ownpany?”


    Jon ms his champagne. If he wasn’t in my dad’s office when we returned with the good news, he wouldn’t even be included in the celebration. I know it’s wrong to hate, and it’s probably a reflection of myself at some point to dislike this man as much as I do but still, I loathe Jon Whitmore. Always have and always will.


    “Ohe, Jon,” my dad says, refilling his own flute. “You don’t need Sutt to leave to be the top agent. You just need to get better at selling. And up your frequency.”


    Criticizing Jon on his sales is like the Oscar winner telling the other nominees to try harder. Jon, believe it or not, can really turn it on and charm clients. He wouldn’t be at Mercer if he wasn’t an excellent salesman.


    Jon smooths his hand down his tie. “Remind me, how’d you get that listing anyway, Sutton?”


    My dad gets to his feet, opening his suit jacket with one hand. “If you were my son, Jon, I think you’d be an advocate of nepotism, but I’d have given the listing to Sutton either way.”


    “Ohh, damn, Geo just roasted your ass, Jon,” Robertaughs, pping her hands together, champagne sloshing. It’s true, Jon’s insinuation that I received that listing simply because I’m Geo’s son is bullshit, but I think he’s had so much champagne that my dad’s response doesn’t quite register.


    My dad pops his shoulders in his suit, and lifts his ss. “To Sutton, who sold Mercer Properties’ highest listed home to-date.”


    Avery, who has been on my arm all afternoon, lifts her ss, clinking it against mine. “To you.”


    “To me,” I say, toasting her before kissing the champagne off her lips, and that lost feeling in the back of my mind grows a little fuzzy, and distant for the time being.<hr>


    We’ve been celebrating since four in the afternoon, and it’s going on ten o’clock at night. When Mercer makes a sale, we really party. There’s a lot of stress involved with selling high-end, high-valuated properties, not to mention, the people we deal with are usually quite particr. Ensuring everyone gets what they want and making sure that every detail is tended to before the papers are signed is my specialty. I’ve lost a sale in the eleventh hour once when I forgot the buyer said they wanted the front rose bushes removed. A couple walked away from a house for that, and I learned then that sometimes people are looking for an out, so you can’t give them an opportunity to find one.


    Instead, you have to guide them where you want them, and keep everyone and everything on the same page until they realize it’s what they want too.


    That’s true for real estate, and I guess my personal life.


    I’m all fucked up tonight.


    And being drunk has only made that worse.


    At first, it made my confused and lost state a little blissful, blurring the edges of my reality just enough to allow me to actually celebrate my sale. But now, several sses of champagne and a few whiskeys deep, I’m back to utter confusion.


    Who am I?


    My entire life, I have been Geo Mercer’s son. Someone who will undoubtedly follow in his footsteps and run a good ship where Mercer is concerned. That’s all a given, and I’ve lived up to those hopes thus far, easily.


    But aside from that, I’ve been a man who knows what he wants, and equally, what he doesn’t want.


    The first thing in my life that I ever really wanted? Avery. And on our wedding night, when I thought I may lose her, I realized that my love for her is truly the most and only important thing in my life. I would have given up everything to keep her and make it work.


    When my dad stepped in and offered himself up—it never seemed fucked up. After we repaired our rtionship and I learned that my mother Margot was the driving force of matrimonial despair in their story, I reframed him in a whole new light.


    In a matter of days, my dad went from someone I despised to the person I respected most—because of the sacrifices he made for his family.


    He let me hate him, because he didn’t want my heart to be broken for my mother. He let me treat him like shit, to get my grief and anger out on a tangible source, instead of internalizing that pain by knowing the truth before I was ready.


    He sacrificed himself for my happiness.


    He showed me that family is more important than anything else, and that night, saying yes to him for her was easy.


    Strangely, I felt nothing but relieved when we were able to work something out. And as ns evolved to include him further in our rtionship, I felt zero hesitation.


    That’s where I’m struggling to understand.


    I don’t like when another man looks at Avery too long, or nces at her ass when they hold the door, or lets her go first at four-way-stop. Yet I have no problem watching my dad and Avery kiss, hug, show each other affection—and I find myself enjoying listening to them. I like watching her when she pleases him, and while I never watch him or look at what he’s doing to her, still, I enjoy being in the room when they’re together.


    I even find it somewhat arousing.


    Which baffles me. I still have zero urge or desire to let Avery shove a sounding rod down my penis, or watch her y with what I leave inside of her—those things are still best suited for my dad. But I’m surprised by how much I enjoy being a part of it all, and how much I enjoy watching her get off with him, while I sit untouched in the corner.


    I was so sure of who I was and what I wanted, and now, in thest few weeks, I find myself feeling like I’ll be devastated if my dad meets a woman and doesn’t want to be with Avery anymore. She’se to adore him and rely on him and I’m fully hooked on being their third wheel many times.


    I may be trying to reconcile that I am not as vani as I originally thought, because I want him to stay in our rtionship.


    My dad.


    I scrub my hand over my forehead and pour myself another whiskey, and sink into my office chair. I slipped away earlier for a moment alone but now, I want to be anything but.


    In fact, all this thinking about Avery and my dad has me leaning forward, dialing the front desk where everyone is currently huddled. Birdie answers.


    “Sutton?”


    “Put Avery on,” I slur, my words running together.


    There’s a rustling on the line, and a momentter, her soft voice makes my chest squeeze. “Sutt? Where’d you go?”


    “Come in my office. Dad, too.” I hang up, and finish the whiskey I don’t need. A momentter, in her backless ck romper and nude heels, her hair in a sleek ponytail, Avery treads in, my dad behind her, his hand on the small of her back, eyes on her pert ass.


    “It’s good, right?” I lift my drink as he quietly closes the office door with one hand, using the other to free the button on his suit coat.


    “The whiskey?” Avery questions.


    My dad’s eyese to mine, and I wink to him. “Avery’s ass. I saw you looking. Hell, you can look, you’ve been inside. Looking is harmless.”


    My dad sits in the chair in front of my desk, and Avery does the same, sitting opposite him. “You’re drunk.”


    I nod. “Yes.”


    “That’s rare,” he continues.


    I nod again. “Yes.”


    “Celebratory?” he questions.


    I nod. “Sure.”


    He tips his head to the side and studies me in a way that only parents can do, in a way that makes me feel immediately exposed and seen. I raise my palms and look at Avery, then back at my dad. None of my feelings areing out in a drunken word vomit. I owe both of these people more respect than that.


    Theplicated stuff can wait for sobriety.


    “What else?” my dad continues, seeing past my shit.


    “I want Avery to get off. Right now. I need that. I need to see that.” I look at Avery, and find her cheeks flushed, and her nipples hard behind her expensive outfit. I nod to her and look at dad. “She wants it, too.”


    My dad looks at my wife, and my insides tighten, because I love them both, in very different ways, yes, but I do love them both. And whether it’s fucked up or not, I like when he makes her feel good. “Lock the door,” I say to my father, but Avery is the one who gets up and locks the office door, twisting the pulley on the blinds until they’re closed.


    “I want this so much,” I say to them, feeling like it’s the first time I’ve really ever announced a need. Everything so far has been about Avery, but right now, I want to sit in my leather chair with the skyline as my backdrop and I want to watch my gorgeous young wife have a toe curling orgasm. “Fuck,” I ground out, cing my palms t on the desk, my head a little swimmy from the booze. “Take off your romper and panties, and hold your legs open for him.”


    They don’t tell me they aren’t performers, or that this isn’t part of the deal. Instead, my father tosses his tie over his shoulder and falls to a crouch on the floor, leaving enough room for Avery to sit in the chair after she undresses.


    Her romper pools to her feet, and she’s about to kick off her heels when I shake my head. “Leave the heels on.” My dad smirks at me, and her cheeks flush as she steps out of her thong, dad helping her. Avery stands between us,pletely naked but for her nude heels, her svelte body making my mouth go dry and my cock get hard.


    “You are goddamn perfect,” I tell her, wondering why I’ve always been so against casual nudity in the past. “Now sit down and hold those high heels, baby. Let him make you feel good, and keep your eyes on me.”


    My words are controlling and dominant, and while I’ve always felt like I am those things, tonight in this office feels like it’s the first time I’m those things with both of them. A little thrill flits up my spine as she sinks into the chair, following my orders, and rears her heels back, gripping them.


    Her blue eyes narrow on mine, chin tucked to her chest, handsing to collect her breasts. They look sorge when she holds them in her petite hands, and when he brings his mouth to her pussy and licks, her eyes roll closed for a moment.<fnc85c> For original chapters go to Find★Novel</fnc85c>


    “How does it feel?” I ask, my voice raspy and low, an echo in the closed office, the quiet rumblings of the party all around us outside.


    She nods her head a little, abandoning one hand to sift through the top of his hair. She nces between her legs tenderly, and the sight of her adoring him while he worships her sends a sh of blood to my groin. The alcohol guides my hand to my crotch, and I unzip, pulling out my cock.


    I’ve never masturbated while they’ve been doing their thing. I’ve never had the urge.


    But tonight, seeing how good he’s making her feel, the sound of her arousal bouncing off these four walls–it’s too much. I need release, too.


    “Watching you feel good makes me feel good, did you know that Avery?” I ask, searching her eyes. She looks drunken, though it’s not the alcohol, it’s the thick hands pressed into her inner thighs keeping her spread, the rough tongue plunging in and out of her, and me, ordering for it to happen.


    She nods. “Y-yes,” she breathes.


    “But it’s only fair that you make us feel good too, right?” I ask, moving my thumb over the slit of my cock, smearing precum down my shaft. Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve stroked myself. I’m not a guy who jerks off a lot. I consider making love to Avery the most important thing, and I save myself for her.


    But this is good too. Holy shit.


    She nods her head, her gaze flitting between me and her cunt, where his head moves around and his arm works. I pump myself again, and give my balls a tug, discovering that I’m not just edging myself but I’m going toe. And soon.


    I release my cock as Avery tips her head back, a moan reverberating from her lips, bouncing off the ss windows as shees. One of her heels hits the floor with a plunk, revealing curled toes. She strokes her hand through his hair, moaning, spine curved in the chair as she orgasms in violent, heady waves.


    “Oh my god, oh my god,” she pants, her thighs trembling as my dad sits back, admiring her swollen, sated cunt. My erection bobs as I look at her pussy, admiring it in a way I never have before. “That was so hot,” she whispers, adding, “I’m sorry I came so fast. I was just… too excited.”


    My dad gets to his feet, back still to me, and I get to mine, and I don’t stop until he and I are hip to hip, very strategically and carefully keeping our eyes on just our girl. “Avery, I want you to make use.”


    “Stay naked, too,” Dad says, and I nod my head in agreement for that.


    “Fuck yes.”


    Avery’s mouth curves into the most beautiful smile. “Do I get to keep it?”


    My brow furrows, and next to me, there’s a rush of clothing and a zipper, and I know he’s getting ready for what’s next. “Keep what?”


    She bites into her bottom lip. “What you guys give me.”


    Blood rushes through my mind, and next to me, dad groans. “Mm.”


    I swallow against the knot of confusion that suddenly appears in my throat. I don’t normally like her to swallow. I’m not the type of man that finds semen swallowing to be erotic. I don’t expect her to swallow, and my orgasms are often abundant.


    She wants it, though.


    And he’s here because she deserves to get what she wants.


    I nod my head. “Yes.”


    She takes us by the cock, one in each hand, her eyes set on mine when she softly breathes, “I’m swallowing, both of you.”


    There’s a deep groan from by my side, and then Avery is on her knees, her right arm pumping in my fuzzy periphery as she suckles at the first few inches of my cock.


    “Mmm,” she moans, making little noises of delight, noises that make my balls grow tight and hot. The back of my neck, too. “God, Sutt, I love your cock so much. I love the way your head feels on my tongue. You taste so good,” she praises, licking and sucking, her hand twisting and working the base, other arm still working on dad.


    My stomach tightens, and my brain goes waxy, and before Ie, she slides over, and when I look down, it’s just her hand pumping me. I close my eyes, and get lost in the things she says to him, and soft slurping noises that radiate from them.


    “Oh, G, god, you taste so good, I love how messy you are for me,” she breathes. I envision her cheeks hollowing as she sucks him, twisting him at the base, too. One deep groan lifts from his lips, and then she’s back on my cock, her lips sealed around me, head bobbing.


    I reach down and fill my fingers with her soft hair, and peer down long enough to see her blinking up at me, adoration in her eyes. Her tits sway as she bobs, and she looks so enticing and gorgeous and perfect, the booze must make me emotional because I frame her jaw in my hand and murmur, “Avery, I love you.”


    Then she’s gone, stroking me as she makes him feel like the most important person alive. That’s how it feels with her blue eyes on me, like I’m everything. I want him to feel that too, after everything he’s been through. I want him to know her pleasure and her love.


    “Mm,” the sentiment radiates from him, and as he groans his pleasure, the room somehow grows smaller, hotter, and the urgency in my groin spikes, the excitement in my veins peaks.


    “Avery, I need you,” I tell her, reaching down to grip myself at the base. She slides over, capturing my cock with her mouth. She knocks my hand away from the base, and grips me, and I spill into her mouth, on her tongue, and down her throat within seconds.


    My hand holds her head, and my eyes snap shut, as my orgasm tears out of me in wild, chaotic pulses. When thest of it has pulsed through me, I open my eyes to find Avery pushing cum back into her mouth, her throat bobbing as she swallows my load without so much as a flinch. She slides over to him, and a momentter, he’s making the same noises I was, and while I don’t watch, I listen to her swallow him.


    By the time she gets to her feet, I’ve tucked myself away and collected her things. While my dad rights himself, I help her redress.


    Avery’s arms loop my waist and she tips her face up to mine, smiling. “I’m more proud of you for asking for what you want tonight, in this office, than I am for that sale.”


    My dad clears his throat, and we twist our gazes to him, tying his necktie. “I’m more proud of the sale,” he deadpans, shooting me a yful wink. “I think we should go home though. You’re… drunk.”


    I nod. “I agree.”


    On the way out of the office, I’m talked into onest whiskey with Roberta, while Avery and my dad sit in the lobby, talking quietly, both of them wearing adoring smiles, her hand stroking subtly up his bicep. By the time I’m in the town car, I know I’ve had too much to drink.


    With my head in Avery’sp, I listen to her and my dad talk before I doze off with a smirk dusting my lips.<hr>


    “No.” There is no other word for how I feel. “No,” I try again, but saying it definitely does not take away the train wreck of a headache happening in my brain.


    I blink my eyes open slowly, only to close them again because, “Oh Jesus. The sun.” My stomach roils, and my lips tingle, but Iy motionless for another minute until it passes. From somewhere downstairs, I hear traces of Avery’s voice, argumentative but yful.


    I peer over at therge bed, finding it tousled and empty. Timid and cautious, I slowly move to get out of bed and work my way downstairs, needing an espresso more than I need anything else.


    When I make it to the kitchen, a wave of nausea hits, and I grip the doorframe to steady myself for a minute. That’s when I see them. Sitting at the kitchen ind, coffee cups half drank, a full breakfast spread before them, a newspaper open. Avery is wearing her white satin pajama set, the ones I purchased for her, and Dad is shirtless, wearing low slung pajama pants. Their hair is disastrous, the kitchen smells like French toast heaven, and in the background, rain patters gently against the ss.


    My chest tightens.


    Coming down to them, to this ce feeling like our home, it makes everything I was thinking aboutst nighte rushing back.


    I want this. I want them and us forever, even if it’s strange. Even if it’s unconventional.


    Avery ps her hand against the counter, making the orange juice jump in the carafe. And that’s when she spots me.


    “You wouldn’t say that had you been around for the bubble in 2008,” my dad finishes, following her gaze up to me.


    “Good morning, son,” Dad greets, sliding out from the counter slightly. “How are you feeling?”


    “Morning, Sutt. We made your favorite.” She wrinkles her nose. “Did we wake you?” She turns to face my father and swats at his chest yfully. “I told you to be quiet.”


    I scratch the back of my head. “You guys are bickering over breakfast like a married couple.”


    They split a nce, and I analyze their features in that brief moment. Adoration. That’s what lifts the corners of my dad’s eyes. Happiness and excitement is what I read on Avery’s.


    I don’t know how I ended up in this ce, I just hope they want to stay in it with me.