A/N: I hope you all have a safe and SEXY Halloween. Enjoy my dark, twisted fantasies.-QueenOfTheNile
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I wanted to be at home with my wife instead of this corporate bullshit Halloween party. It was mandatory the newly promoted partners attend to mingle and socialize with the senior partners, but I did not understand why the formal introductions could not have just waited until I could meet them the following Monday when they weren't drunk off their asses over the usual bagel and cream cheese continental breakfast the firm hosted before the big strategy meeting on the Williams vs. Harrods case. I needed to be at home with my wife, Ariel, to work out the kinks in our marriage. Lately, I have not been home as much as I should have and been pushing her to the wayside due to work and a full caseload. I was Lake and Thompson's first African-American partner in over thirty years- the first to be of full African descent- and damn proud of it. I had worked my ass off all throughout law school, graduated with outstanding markings and honors, did a lot of pro-bono work to get name recognition and status, and worked for the petty District Attorney's office before finding my way to Lake and Thompson. After working with Lake and Thompson for eight years, giving them outstanding results and an 89 percent success rate, I was promoted and it was highly publicized. Because of my newfound success, it caused me to take on more daunting, strenuous cases that either had me coming home in the wee hours of the morning, if at all; leaving my wife to sleep alone in a cold, lonely bed until she became too fed up to handle it any longer.
I never intended to neglect her and my state of mind was never intentional, but it caused her to drift and wander into another man's bed for a night. I found out when she told me she was pregnant by the man and that she deeply regretted the one-night-stand because her heart truly rested with mine. Since then, our marriage has not been the same and I could not help but retain some of the responsibility. Maybe if I had been a little more mindful and occasionally dick down my wife like a normal husband would do after a hard day's work, the growing baby in her stomach would bear resemblance to me and not the Asian man next door.
I took a sip of my cognac and coke, swirling it lazily around my glass. I scanned the room. Co-workers that are usually uptight and stuffy were half-naked, intoxicated, and lust ridden as the office tramps found their way into the pants of a few of my fellow partners. A friend of mine, Kennedy, was in the middle of the dance floor, shirtless, covered in candy corn, gummy-bears, and sugar cubes, with a witch's hat on doing the Macarena with his long-term love interest, Sarah Marshall. My boss, William Lake, was royally perched up against a corner in his office getting a blow job from an intern- though he thought he was inconspicuous but from the angle I was standing, I got quite the show- as a few of my other colleagues were either downing shots of Don Julio or grinding their sex hungry loins against one another. Even Stella, the Cambodian cleaning lady that spoke only in short sentences, was 'pussy popping on a handstand' against Robert, the South American janitor. I cringed at the thought; knowing once Monday rolled around, either no one would remember this night, or they would claim to have forgotten.
I took one last sip of my drink, placing it gently against the table. I reached inside the chip bowl and grabbed a handful of chips, taking out my phone. There was a missed call from Ariel and Morgan. I smiled at the thought. Morgan was another one of my colleagues and a good friend of mine. She and her fiancΓ©e had just broken things off due to infidelity issues on his behalf and with my wife doing the Russian tango in the neighbor's bed, we connected greatly since we were suffering through the same emotional bullshit heart ache. As much as I loved my wife with every fiber of my being, since her scandal, I could not envision her in the same light as I used to. It was not that I considered her to be impure or some trollop, but I often found myself unable to even touch her because the thoughts of another man kissing where only my lips should ever kiss would fill my mind as dirty thoughts of his penis inside of my wife would drive me close to insanity.
Morgan, on the latter, was a very attractive woman. She was twenty-eight, African-American and of Mexican heritage, a curvaceous, voluptuous beauty with large breasts, and a stunning intellect that made my dick hard when we discussed politics. I realized back in college that I was a sapiosexual and that a woman's physical features only amounted to half of the attraction I needed to get me fully interested in romantically pursuing a woman. The biggest turn on for me was an intelligent woman that was not only opinionated, but also a feisty little minx that wouldn't take shit from anyone. Morgan was exactly that. Ariel was a bit dense, submissive, and...normal. We married young right out of high-school because our own little pregnancy scare that turned out to be false, but stuck with our marriage because neither one of us wanted to be another stereotypical black couple divorced. I sent Morgan a text, asking her where she was and if she was still planning on coming to the Halloween party. She sent one back asking my location and I told her posted against the snack table. There was no possible way I was going to be caught dead on the dance floor next to a witch, a giant banana, and an Adult baby.
I took out my phone again, hoping for another text but the screen was bare. I poured myself another drink. Maybe something came up. Morgan and I were discussing Halloween costumes for the office party yesterday afternoon over coffee. She was uncertain as to what she wanted to be- if she was coming at all due to her divorce proceedings earlier that morning- and I told her I was coming as James Bond. All I needed was to put a red rose in the right suit breast pocket of one of my many tuxedos and I was James Bond. I was never a Halloween person due to my religious beliefs I had since I was a child, but I took pleasure in the spirit of the holiday. I wasn't one of those Christians that felt as if Halloween was "The Devil's Birthday" or some satanic day where the worshiping of demons is no longer condemned. Instead, I just chose to not celebrate a day that had not only religious and historical questionability, but it also pissed me off when fucking teenagers would egg my car and grown men found it socially acceptable to prey on young women who dressed as sluts the only day of the year where they could not get any flack for it.