Marcy was quietly furious and doing her best not to show it. Somehow, she just felt it wrong to tell her husband that he was being a complete asshole on the first day of the honeymoon. When they'd pulled into the camp they'd booked into for a week she'd just known there was going to be a problem as soon as she saw that sign advertising the fishing contest. She'd hoped that Brian would defer entering the contest for at least one day but no, fishing he was going.
To be fair, he had suggested she come along on the boat. Sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake while her husband drank beer and drowned worms was not how she wanted to spend the day. She'd pass on the fishing and spend the day exploring the camp.
"Don't fret over it, Marcy," Brian told her. "I'll be home nice and early and we can go to bed early. You'll find the second night goes a lot better than the first."
It would have to, thought Marcy. It couldn't be much more of a debacle. He'd been too eager, too careless, and too fast. She'd barely got past the pain and he'd been finishing. If he didn't show some proper care and consideration the next time she'd slap him silly.
Marcy spent the day familiarising herself with the camp. She also kept an eye out on the various boats that came and went, waiting for Brian to return. It was late afternoon when he finally returned. She could see from the way that he bounded out of the boat that he'd had a good day. He was smiling and seemed very confident. She headed towards the judges table where the catches were being checked and weighed.
Brian had been lucky. Not in the number or size of the fish that he caught but with one particular fish. He'd caught a tagged trout, worth prize money of one thousand dollars to the lucky fisherman.
Brian's good luck was her bad luck, Marcy decided. With a win like that he had to celebrate with a few drinks, now didn't he? He knew she'd understand. Why didn't she stay in the cabin and make herself look beautiful for him and he'd be along real soon.
"Don't you worry, little lady," said one of the men who'd been fishing with him. "We'll look after him."
Marcy slowly shook her head and walked back to their cabin, silently stewing as she went. Only here one day and he'd already picked up a couple of mates to drink with. Perhaps she'd be lucky and they'd chase him home after a couple.
Eating dinner by herself Marcy knew she hadn't been lucky. She sighed and turned on the television. Damn it, she'd even worn sexy, easy to remove, clothes. He was supposed to have a couple of drinks and then come in roaring like a lion, ready to do his husbandly duty. As it was he'd probably come in like a sheep, looking nervously around for a wolf.
Eventually there was a rap on the door and it opened. Brian was helped in by his two fishing buddies. To her annoyance his two pals seemed to be quite sober while Brian was totally sloshed. She was surprised that he was still conscious and walking.
The men banged the door closed, steered Brian over to an armchair and helped him sit, which he managed to do, sitting up with a smug smile on his face.
"I'm Dean," said the man who had promised to look after him. "This's Cary. As you can see, one husband safely delivered, as promised. We stayed sober just so we could be sure of getting him home for you."
"Ah, thank you," said Marcy, trying to be gracious, but feeling she'd feel a lot more grateful if they'd delivered him home sober.
"You're welcome," said Cary, smiling at her. "Course, I don't know if he'll be much use to you tonight."
Marcy tried to kill him with a look and felt irritated when he was unscathed. Dean promptly took his turn to further annoy her.
"Yeah, it's a pity," he said. "Look at you, all ready and waiting, and he's too sloshed to unwrap his gift."
"Thank you and good night, gentlemen," said Marcy coldly, indicating the door.
The men ignored her.
"You know, Dean, Brian baby is still awake, even if he is partly paralytic. Why don't we show him what he's missing?"
"You know, Cary, your ideas are normally range from dumb to stupid and that is one of the dumbest and stupidest ones yet."
The shock at what Cary's suggestion had implied was alleviated by Dean's comment, only to return when Dean added a rider.
"Let's do it."
Before Darcy could react Cary had taken hold of her top and lifted it up, pulling it right up and off. She'd been dressed for Brian and bed and hadn't worried about a bra. Why should she wear one? Brian was just going to take it off. As it was, Darcy found herself standing topless before two strangers. Knowing someone's name didn't make them any less a stranger.
Darcy gasped and hastily tried to cover her breasts. She was stopped in this endeavour by Dean and Cary catching her arms and holding them.
"Geez, Brian, does your wife have lovely boobs or does she? You're a lucky man."
Darcy glared at Brian, willing him to get up and thump the two jerks holding her. Instead all he did was tilt his head to one side and smile. Jesus Christ, just how far under was he?
Ignoring the language that Darcy was using and also ignoring her trying to pull her arms free both men reached out and cupped a breast and rubbing a nipple. Her nipples promptly responded.
"Nice responsive boobs," murmured Cary.
"OK, Cary, I think that's enough of our playing with the lovely lady's breasts," said Dean, relinquishing his grip on her arm.
As Cary did the same Darcy promptly covered her breasts with her arms, tossing glares at the two men. She just as promptly found that instead of covering her breasts she should have been grabbing hold of her tights. Dean and Cary didn't make that mistake, taking her tights and lowering them swiftly, managing to take her panties with them. It dawned on Darcy that wearing clothes that would be easy for your husband to remove meant wearing clothes that other men would also find easy to remove.
"Well, will you just look at that body? Ah, Brian, you're not answering. Had a bit much, have we? Tell you what. Seeing you look like you'll be unable to help your wife out tonight why don't Dean and I do it for you?"
