Rogue Wave

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This is my first (and most likely only) Loving Wives story. I recently read one where I didn't like the cuckold ending, so I decided to write a LW story of my own.

Thanks to JuanaSalsa for her editing and plot feedback, even though she is quite happily married and will never be a Loving Wife herself.

~~~~~~~~~~

Science manuals will tell you that rogue waves are an open-water phenomenon, in which the physics of high winds and strong currents cause smaller waves to unify, creating a single exceptionally large wave, far larger than the surrounding waves.

Let me be the first to tell you, if you happen to be on a boat out on the open ocean and see a rogue wave bearing down on you, the very last thing you'll be thinking about is wave physics. Upon seeing one, foremost in your mind will be How the fuck will I survive THIS?

Trust me on this. It's not mere speculation on my part, it's based on actual experience. It was the first thing that crossed my mind when I looked up at a wall of dark water while standing on the foredeck of the R/V Apotheosis, a Maui Ocean Center Research Institute vessel based out of Maalaea Harbor on Maui. Her name meant excellence, which is what MOCRI always strived for.

The Apotheosis was a good-sized boat, 85 feet long with a 23 foot beam at her widest point. A former fishing vessel, she'd been purchased by MOCRI, then repowered with new engines and refitted for deep-water research. She carried a sophisticated remotely operated vehicle, the TrenchRover LNE 235, aka 'Lenny' -- basically a torpedo-shaped robot, capable of reaching depths of 6,000 feet for the purpose of mapping the ocean floor.

The Apotheosis had room for a team of twelve, but the day of the wave, there were only five: Captain Will Whatley, chief mate and engineer Anton Volkov, our ROV pilot Saniya Sharma (who had, until recently, dated Anton), Jane Akron, a marine scientist and hydrographer, and me, Nick Akron, an oceanographer and underwater electronics specialist. I was also Jane's husband. Jane was 34, I was 42, and after being hired the same day at MOCRI, we'd eventually fallen in love and married 7 years ago.

It should be noted that Anton was immigrating to the US and in the process of getting his citizenship. Of the five of us, I was the only one who knew that Jane was deep into an affair with the man. Oops, correction: Of the three of us who weren't Jane and Anton, I was the only one who knew. As brilliant as Jane was at her profession she was terrible at keeping secrets, and this affair was no exception.

I'd wanted kids since almost the beginning of our marriage, but Jane had insisted on having her tubes tied so as not to interfere with her career. I'd reluctantly agreed because, well, I loved and supported my wife and kissed goodbye to my dreams of being a dad. Not long after that is when she'd allegedly developed chronic fatigue syndrome.

We'd had a dead bedroom for a while. (Why fuck her husband when she was fucking her Russian stud, right?) She claimed her lack of interest was due to her CFS, yet she never appeared to attempt any remedies -- medication, therapy, acupuncture, and so forth -- that a true CFS sufferer would pursue. Nonetheless, I loved my wife and respected her wishes, started living a celibate life.

I became suspicious one night when, after many months, Jane made a pathetic attempt to seduce me. I should add that while pathetic, after so many weeks of my involuntary celibacy, it still worked. My joy turned to dust during the act when she just kind of laid there, passionless to the point where afterwards I felt I'd inadvertently engaged in necrophilia.

In the weeks that followed, Jane made no further effort to initiate sex, coldly rebuffing me when I tried. In retrospect, I believe she did it the one time just to cement the concept in my mind that the two of us having sex was unworkable.

The one-time exception struck me as odd, sparking my suspicions. In checking her phone records, there were tons of texts to a certain number. Based on how she lit up when we travelled on Apotheosis excursions together with Anton, I entered the number in my own phone to test my theory.

At work the following day, I was scheduled on the Apotheosis for a day trip, and Anton happened to be on the crew. Taking a seat belowdecks, as we pulled out into the harbor I dialed the mystery number. Immediately I heard Anton's phone ring. Just to make sure it was not a coincidence I disconnected, then dialed again. The results were the same.

Not too long after that, Anton came below and asked, "Did you just call my cell?"

Trying to laugh it off, I said, "Must have been a butt-dial, sorry!"

He shrugged and said, "Oh OK." Then he turned to go topside, but the gears in his stupid brain must have finally meshed; he turned back to me and asked, "How did you get my number?"

I did the only reasonable thing and lied my ass off. "Captain Whatley gave it to me, I believe." This ruse seemed to satisfy him, and he dropped the matter.

When we returned to the Maalaea marina, I promptly called the first private investigator I could find and soon all was revealed. I was devastated, of course, especially when the PI somehow hacked their messaging apps.

The thread of messages the PI showed me featured the two of them laughing at my naivete, loving Jane while being cuckolded by her Russian lover. My wife continued to mock my every flaw, comparing me to her superior lover. Let me tell you, friends, the taste of betrayal is bitter, and humiliation is not an entrée I'd wish on any man. Except Anton, of course.

To say I was on an emotional rollercoaster was putting it mildly. At night I would look at Jane sleeping and remember the joy of our young love and marriage, then in the harsh morning light remember every taunt and jab at my imperfections she'd made with her lover. Finally, I decided to end things by remove myself from the equation. Not by gunshot or pills, though that would be far too messy and cliché.

No, I would simply take advantage of the ocean that I loved by flinging myself into it at the proper time. It would be cleaner, with the added advantage that, Jane being a marine scientist, would be reminded of me each time she had to go on the ocean.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mike Tyson was asked whether he was worried about Evander Holyfield and his fight plan, he answered, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth." I would amend that to, "until they get hit by a rogue wave." The day of my planned demise, my strategy was to position myself on the bow when everyone else was at the stern, gathered around the deck boom as they watched Saniya launch Lenny to survey the area.

Had I been at the stern with the rest of the team, I wouldn't have been the first to hear and see the growing wall of water headed straight for the Apotheosis. As it was, I had just enough time to shout a warning to the rest of the team and pull the emergency ditch bag from its storage before Mother Ocean turned off the damned lights.

~~~~~~~~~~

I returned to consciousness, surprised to find I wasn't dead. I was on my back in the sand, looking skyward when a face loomed over mine -- one belonging to Saniya Sharma.

"Welcome back to the land of the living."

"I'm as surprised as you are. How did I get here and not drown?"

"Thanks to your warning, Anton, Jane, and I managed to get into the inflatable runabout. After the wave passed, we spotted the ditch bag floating on the water, and somehow you were tangled in the handle straps. Between the bag and your flotation vest, your head somehow managed to stay above water and we were able to pull you in."

"What about Captain Whatley?"

"Instead of getting on the inflatable, he ran back to the bridge to see if he could steer the Apotheosis to safety. It was too late. The rogue wave came down on top of the boat, and he was gone. What's left of him washed up on the beach about a quarter mile further down. Looks like a shark got him."

"Where are Anton and Jane?"

"They're scrounging the beach, looking for anything salvageable from the Apotheosis that washed up."

Yeah, I thought to myself cynically, I'll just bet they're scrounging.

The ditch bag contained some protein energy bars and pints of water, along with some aerial flare guns, hand-held smoke flares, six blankets, a first aid kit, a small 25-watt VHF radio, a box of 40 waterproof matches, a pair of waterproof marine binoculars, two canteens, and a handheld air horn. The first night, the four of us shared two bars to conserve the food. With four people, those bars wouldn't last long.

Each of us had a blanket, and using driftwood and the remaining two blankets, built a lean-to. All the other crucial equipment such as the Garmin position tracker, flares, survival suits, and emergency beacon resided with on the bottom with the remains of the Apotheosis.

Over the next few days, while the other three kept combing the beach for washed-up fragments of the pieces of the Apotheosis, I walked the island periphery and surveyed our new home. About five miles long, I estimated the island to be about 8 square miles. In the center was a thousand-foot-high hill, most likely a cone formed from volcanic activity. The hill may have been mostly barren, but the surrounding flat area were lush and verdant.

Most of the beaches were flat and the ocean was calm on the leeward side, but on the windward side there were some rock formations that formed tidepools. At low tide, the tidepools were packed with snails, mussels, crabs, seaweed, and small fish, essentially a food source for shorebirds and humans alike.

The best news was that there was a freshwater source at the base of the hill not too far from the campsite. An oblong pool about 15 feet wide by 20 feet long with an average depth of 6 feet or so, over the centuries it must have been filled by rain from tropical storms that passed through. I quickly did the math, and estimated it contained 13,000 gallons. This was fantastic news. From what I knew now, the four of us could survive here for a long time, hopefully long enough to be discovered by search parties.

As I walked back, I realized my conundrum. For weeks, I'd been planning to end my life as payback for Anton and Jane's betrayal. Now, with the four of us stuck on this island, the dynamic felt different. For the moment, we were all interdependent on each other for survival. After nearly drowning, I realized I'd been short-sighted. I was no longer in a hurry to die, quite the opposite. If I could get beyond the betrayal and keep living, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. What's more, surviving the rogue wave and being stuck on this island may have provided me other ways to exact my revenge that didn't include my death.

When I got back to our camp, I told the others about the freshwater pool. They showed me what they'd found: several cushions, the boat's wire antenna wrapped around a boat bumper, some marine solar panels attached to a big fragment of the foredeck, a plastic bucket, and several packets of freeze-dried emergency meals from the boat's galley. Overall, it had been a good day.

As I lay under my blanket, I began piecing together how I could make the electronics parts together to call for rescue. Just as my mental blueprint formed, I heard Jane move. The way we had bedded down under the lean-to, Jane and I were in the center, with Anton and Saniya on either side. Anton was next to Jane, while Saniya was next to me. I watched as Jane rolled over and snuggled into Anton, unconsciously pulling his arm over her as if she'd done it a thousand times.

It made me furious, and I quietly got up to go walk on the beach to prevent myself from strangling my wife in her sleep. The sun was just beginning to come up, so I stopped and sat in the sand, staring out at the faint light on the horizon.

"Anton's a dick." Looking to my left, I saw Saniya taking a seat on the sand beside me. Being married I'd never given her a close look, but since my marriage was in worse shape than the Apotheosis, now was a good of time as any.

The woman seated next to me was East Indian, about 5'6" with mocha-colored skin, shoulder-length hair, and now that I was taking a closer look, she was quite pretty. If I recall correctly, she was in her late twenties. The sleeveless hoodie she wore did not disguise her ample chest, and it was plain there was a hefty ass inside her cargo shorts. Plus, the way she was looking back at me made me feel like there just might be something worth living for again.

I sighed and answered, "Saniya, you don't know the half of it. That guy is the worst kind of fucking lowlife."

"I know. We dated for a few months, but I dropped him after I overheard him at a party last summer that I was a good fuck, but there was no way he'd marry a 'dot-headed brown bitch' like me!"

I shook my head. "Well, if it's any consolation, I find you..." my brain struggled to find the right word "... tantalizing." Even as the words left my lips, I felt my cock stir. Having lived a celibate life for years -- albeit with one miserable interlude - will do that to a man.

"That's an unusual way to put it, considering you're married."

"The word is accurate," I replied, "and as to my being married, my wife is currently under the lean-to with her arm wrapped around another man. I think in her mind, our marriage ended some time ago."

Saniya and I sat in silence for a few minutes, then suddenly she pushed me on my back and pressed her lips to mine, her tongue teasing its way past my lips. I slipped my hands under her hoodie, and to my delight found two unfettered soft globes filling my hands. All of a sudden, it was as if I was back on a high school date and had just reached second base, fondling her breasts and teasing her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. My cock was rock hard, volcanic rock if you considered the setting.

Both of us were breathing heavily now, and she gasped, "Am I still tantalizing?"

"You most definitely are, but as much as I would love to take this further, fucking on the beach will end up with sand in every crack you have, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"You're such a gentleman. I guess my pussy will have to wait, but in the meantime..." Saniya then pulled my board shorts down to my knees, revealing my rapacious erection, hungry for release.

The sun had risen a little further, and in the morning light I watched as my brown-skinned beauty took my pale pole of flesh into that lovely mouth, her tongue trailing across the glans and teasing the underside. After being ignored for so long, I was in a high state of arousal, and within seconds felt myself about to cum.

I tried to warn her, "Saniya, I'm about to..." but it was too late. She softly fondled my balls, which pushed me over the edge. I released into her mouth, and despite the level of pent-up jizz, she managed take in and swallow most all of it.

"Good god, girl, you are amazing," I told her, reaching down and pulling her on top of me. I kissed her, our tongues intertwining, then licked my spillage from her cum-covered lips as I caressed her soft tits.

"That was just for starters," she said, "I have to confess I've wanted to do that since our first open-water research trip together. I've always thought you were so cute and hot, but you were married."

"While I agree 100% that Anton is a dick, I guess the one good thing about him is you got your wish because of him. Speaking for myself, I'm now grateful."

"That's nice to hear. I'm glad I pleased you." Saniya got up and pulled my boardshorts back up to my waist, giving my now-softened cock one last kiss.

"You did more than please me. My wife had convinced me that at 42, our sex life was over. As it turned out, hers wasn't, it was just mine. I was the understanding and sympathetic husband, but I was merely a cuckold. It was all a ruse. Now here you are, a hot 20-something, making me feel desirable again."

Saniya pulled me to my feet, and I automatically embraced her. How could I not? She'd given me unconditional affection and taken a stomach full of my cum, and if not for the threat of beach sand getting in there, would have gladly given me access to her pussy.

"Listen, you," she scolded, "I am ordering you to forget everything that bitch ever told you, including her wedding vows. You may be 42, but you're fucking gorgeous, do you understand me?" I had to admit, I was taken aback at Saniya's sudden vehemence. Who knew this quiet little ROV nerd could be so fierce?

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered obediently. There was no way I was going to disagree, especially when her hand slipped under the waistband of my shorts and grasped my not-so-soft-now cock and squeezed it.

"As of right now, I'm invoking the international maritime law of salvage. I recovered you from the wreck of the Apotheosis, so you are legally mine. No other woman is granted access to this cock. Is that clear?"

After finding out my wife was cheating on me with a green-card-chasing Russian, considering suicide, being hit by a rogue wave and almost drowning, I realized I had no energy left. I had become a leaf on the wind, powerless to control where I was blown.

"Crystal clear, Saniya." Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at me.

"I didn't think it would be that easy."

"You thought wrong," I replied, and kissed her deeply as the morning sun began to heat the sands beneath our feet.

As we walked back to the lean-to, she said, "I'm not a hot 20-something, you know. I'm 32."

I thought about it, then asked, "Would you by any chance be open to having babies with me?"

She nodded affirmatively, and I confided, "I have a plan to get us off this island. Promise me when you and I get back to civilization, we're going to have a house full of them."

She stopped walking, and I turned back towards her. "I'd like that very much," she answered, and pulled me in for a kiss that matched the heat of the day. As we continued to walk, I filled her in on my plan.

When we reached the campsite, Jane was still asleep in Anton's arms, but on his other side now. I noticed Jane was now naked. I imagined that with Saniya and I not around, they'd taken the opportunity to have a quick fuck but at this point, I no longer cared. Reaching into the ditch bag, I pulled out the handheld air horn and gave it a quick blast.

Anton and Jane both instantly sat upright, Jane grabbing at a blanket to cover her bare breasts. "Nick, I can explain," she began, but I shut her down.

"Don't even start, Jane. That last awful time we fucked, I hired a private investigator. I've known about your affair with Anton for a while now. Quit pretending it's not serious." I said to Anton, "Good fucking luck, asshole. She's your problem now." They sat there awkwardly, glancing at each other but not saying anything. The secrecy curtain had been pulled back and there was nothing more to say, really.

Then I laid out next steps. "While you two idiots have been beachcombing and fucking, Saniya and I have come up with a plan to get us rescued." I pointed at the volcanic hill.

"I'm taking the ship's wire antenna, the VHF radio, and one of the marine solar panels up to the top of the hill. The normal range of the radio is about one hundred miles, but connecting it to the antenna should increase that range significantly. The solar panel will help trickle-charge the radio battery to extend its life, so over the course of a few hours I should hopefully reach the Coast Guard station at Maalaea Harbor."

Jane and Anton's faces lightened at the idea of being rescued. Anton asked, "Do you need me to help carry the equipment?"

"No," I snapped back, "you and Jane don't know shit about electronics; Saniya and I do. It might be days before I even get a response, so your meager talents would be better used by taking the bucket over to the tide pools and grabbing some fish and crab to eat."