Exit Strategy With Perky Perks

'Oooh...! Aaah...mmm...yeah, that's nice, keep going!'

From under the desk comes a grunt of agreement.

'Well, damn it... You filthy slut!'

Barbra lets out a terrified scream and a loud thud lets me know that the man between her legs has hit his head pretty hard. He's swearing like a sailor, just right, I think, asshole.

Then he crawls out from under the desk with difficulty, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, face red from exertion.

Fuck, that's her boss. Holy cow. And that bastard is married, for goodness' sake.

How low can you sink. Ha, at least on his knees, that's for sure.

Furious, but not as surprised as I should be, I turn around and storm out of the office, behind me I hear Barbra calling my name in despair. Her stiletto heels click like machine gun shots on the tiles of the reception area, she desperately begs me to slow down. She better watch out she doesn't trip; she's probably still got her panties hanging around her ankles.

The slut.

The untrustworthy, lying, cheating slut!

But I'm done with it. Really done with it.

I'm already standing outside my car, searching in my jacket pocket for my car keys, when she finally catches up with me. I'm still fuming, my legs are shaking. I'm almost wondering if it's wise to get in the car in this state of mind.

'Declan, please, I- I- I'm sorry, I don't know-' She puts her hand on my arm, but I shake it off. Apart from the fact that I have my suspicions about where that hand has been a moment ago, I'm so disgusted by her that any touch is too much for me. I look at her, fire in my eyes, and she immediately looks down in shame.

'How long has this been going on?' I ask, raising my voice. Barbra looks around worriedly, apparently afraid of onlookers. Silly goose, does she really think that all her colleagues aren't standing in front of the window by now, watching the juicy drama that's unfolding right in front of them?

And the fact that she clearly doesn't want to answer my question says it all.

'I've had it with you,' I grumble, trying to force myself to calm down, 'I'm done with this, I want a divorce.'

'Declan! No! I'm sorry, I-'

'After the last time you promised me-'

'I know, I know, I'm so sorry.' And here come the crocodile tears... I wonder what exactly she regrets, that she cheated - again - or that I caught her doing it.

Unfortunately, this isn't the first time she's cheated on me, at least not the first time I found out, who knows what else she's gotten up to over the years, without my knowledge.

I was initially stunned, I really thought she had turned her life around. I felt like I stood there frozen for five minutes before I could even say anything. But in reality, it was probably no more than five seconds.

I didn't think she'd do this to me again.

The last time, almost a year ago now, was with one of my employees, imagine, he came to make adjustments to her walk-in closet, and I already thought he had been working on it for a way too long. That was easy to explain, it turned out, he did have a tool at the ready when I unexpectedly entered the bedroom, but it wasn't a drill. Although...

He got sacked immediately, of course, and Barbra had tried her utmost for weeks to make me forgive her. Which did have the bonus that she finally made a few of my fantasies come true, heh-heh.

I did forgive her, eventually, but the damage could not be undone, the trust was gone.

You may wonder why I didn't dump her right away, good point. But at that time, I still had very little self-confidence about my appearance, and my chances with the ladies, a self-image that Barbra carefully maintained in retrospect by making certain - belittling - remarks and withholding sex to make her point.

Back when I first met her, I couldn't believe my luck. Such a beautiful girl, so sexy, and she wanted me. Not all those other guys who circled her like dogs in heat, no, she wanted me. I didn't understand it, but I was grateful. Too grateful apparently, because looking back, she's always pulled the wool over my eyes. What she wanted from me was financial stability - I'm a co-owner of a successful construction company, a family business - and a safe haven, someone who didn't ask too many questions and took her at her word. Someone who adored her, would fulfil her every need, and indeed, was grateful that she wanted to share her life with him.

Of course, I wasn't completely blind, all those years, I certainly saw that she sometimes went a bit too far with her flirting with other men, but as long as it's just flirting, right?

How naive can you be...

But that's history now, my eyes are opened forever, the unfaithful harlot!

A few weeks after her escapade with my now ex-employee, I got into a conversation with one of Barbra's few friends, and, completely against my habit - I'm a real introvert - I confided in her about what had happened and spilled it all. She had had no idea, thought we had some kind of open relationship, because she had already caught Barbra in various compromising situations, over the years. Barbra had brushed it all off, she said, and claimed that I had no problem with it. It was an eye-opener, hearing this from her. What was even more an eye-opener was that she confessed to me that if our marriage did end up on the rocks, she would not hesitate for a moment to launch an attack, she made it clear that she found me very attractive, a real catch, and did not understand why Barbra felt the need to look elsewhere in the first place.

It had given me a huge boost in self-confidence and made me think. And not only that, from that moment on I was at the gym at least three times a week.

With results, I may say, the weight - and incipient beer belly - flew off, to make way for a nice set of muscles, I am now even the proud owner of a - no, not beer - six-pack!

And I feel a lot better, fitter, more comfortable in my own skin, and even my mood has gotten a big boost, not least because of the female attention I receive these days, especially from the girl from the local bakery.

And Barbra? Oh, believe me, she knows how to appreciate it, I regularly catch her looking at me admiringly, and it has definitely done our sex life good, but apparently it is not enough, judging by the situation with her boss.

The fact that my self-esteem left a lot to be desired made me get past the betrayal last time, because I thought, well, if she leaves me, what am I going to do? What woman would still want me, at forty?

But that's different now. I now know that there are plenty of women who are interested, beautiful women too.

I already mentioned the girl from the bakery. Her name is Kelsie, young, blonde and always cheerful. And a body to drool over. Full, firm tits, a slim waist that flares out into hips made to grab, and a nice, round ass. I know the latter because I often ask her to grab something for me that is behind her, on one of the higher shelves. I am convinced that she knows exactly why I do that.

Kelsie is an incorrigible flirt, and well, then I sometimes flirt back a little, I have to admit. After all, that's what you're a man for, isn't it? And besides, it flatters my ego. That's also something I still need after all those years of never being good enough.

***

It's been a week and a half since I caught Barbra with her boss, and she keeps bombarding me with excuses, promises, catering to my needs, both in the kitchen - I didn't even know she could cook until now - and in the bedroom, and pleas, it's driving me completely crazy. She's gone from distant to super affectionate, and I'm not sure I like this version of her better. Or actually I do know, it's suffocating me.

But I've decided to let her stay in our house for the time being, we have more than enough space to not have to run into each other all the time. Anyone else in the same situation might shout, kick that bitch out and let her go back to her parents, or to her boss, ha-ha, but hey, it also gives me a kind of satisfaction to see that arrogant cunt crawling and begging. And this also has its advantages, the - usually initiated by her, oh yeah - sex is phenomenal.

It will be temporary of course, because that divorce is coming. I have to sort some things out first, and then it's bye-bye Barbra. Then she can stand on her own high-heeled legs. Or lie down, maybe she should become an escort, so she can make her passion her job, ha-ha!

The construction company is still in the name of my father and myself, but in the long term he will transfer it completely to me. The house we live in is also owned by the company, it used to be a model home. My father insisted at the time that we got married under prenuptial agreements. There was no getting around that, the business had to be protected, he said, he had - and has - a rather cynical view of marriages, despite the fact that he himself has been happily married to my mother for more than forty years. An exception to the rule, he always states, and I am inclined to agree with him.

I am now very happy that we have arranged it that way, you'll understand.

Barbra won't get much out of the divorce, but that's her problem. They call it FAFO, Fucked Around and Found Out. At most, she's entitled to alimony. And a suitcase full of expensive designer clothes and shoes. And her little car. Oh no, wait, that's a lease, in the company's name. Too bad, Barbra. But maybe your boss can give you a company car? After all, you've earned it twice over, you've even worked your back out for it.

She'll have to make do with her salary and of course look for other housing. Which I'm already at it for her, but she doesn't know that yet. I hope for her - and for me - that she keeps her job as a secretary, you never know how things will go in such a prestigious law firm, those men generally know how to cover their asses. Hm, cover ass, questionable choice of words, ha-ha-ha!

But the begging and pleading is starting to get on my nerves, she just won't stop. Once again, dressed in a see-through scrap of fabric, she's leaning against the kitchen island, casting seductive glances at me while I pour a glass of water. Not really a punishment, she still looks exceptionally good for her thirty-nine years, not as good as the tasty Kelsie of course, but she nevertheless still has a fantastic, tight body. She's had enough surgery done over the years, of course, but that's besides the point.

The thought of Kelsie however gives me an idea.

There is something I have always wanted to try, but which my lovely wife has never indulged in.

I think it's time now.

'Declan,' I hear her say in a whiny, pleading tone, pout and all, 'you're not planning on going through with the divorce now, are you? Things are going well between us now, aren't they?'

How dare she. Fucking her boss, not even two weeks ago, and then thinking that everything is forgotten and forgiven? She would be so lucky!

I look at her, 'I haven't decided yet,' I say in a hesitant tone. That is a blatant lie.

'Declan, please, I'll do anything you want, and I'll never look at another man again, from now on you can count on my loyalty,' she says, there's a hint of desperation in her, I suspect she thought she'd have changed my mind by now, with all the sex and flattery.

'Well,' I say, seizing the opportunity, 'there's something that might make me change my mind.'

'Oh, yeah? What is it, tell me, I- I'll do anything. If you- if you just don't... If you just stay with me.'

Ah, it's almost endearing. As if I would believe that she would stay faithful to me.

'It's something I've had on my bucket list for a long time, something we can do together. I've mentioned it before.'

'Oh yeah? Tell me? Is it that trip to Australia?' she asks hopefully.

I shake my head, 'no trip.'

She looks at me suspiciously, clearly digging into her memory to find out what I could mean, I can see the wheels turning.

'What then?'

'A threesome.' There, the bomb has been dropped, now sit back and wait for her reaction.

'W-what?' Oh shit, I can see her thinking. There comes the threesome again. But now she has no way out for a change.

'Yes,' I say seriously. 'If you want to participate in a threesome, then I'll give it another thought.'

'I don't know-' she bites her lower lip in despair, but then apparently comes to a decision. 'Okay,' she sighs, 'a threesome. With- with two men?' she asks, even though she should know better.

'No, of course not,' I answer with a sardonic grin, 'the idea, two women of course.'

I can barely suppress a fit of laughter, her face is contorted with horror, it's just so funny.

And oh, how wicked I feel. Devious.

But anyway, she asked for it.

'And, um, how do we get that second woman?' she asks hesitantly.

'Oh, I think I already know someone.'

'Oh yeah?' She looks sour.

'Yes, leave that to me, I'll arrange it.'

I can tell she doesn't like that at all, not strange, I can imagine that she would prefer to choose the partner herself. Imagine if I liked the third participant in the threesome better than her. That is of course a risk she is taking now. Not that it matters, my decision is already set in stone, but she doesn't know that.

'Oh, Barbra?' I say casually, 'there is one extra condition.'

'Extra condition? How- what do you mean, what condition?'

'You have to do everything I say, everything I ask you. Without contradiction, I am the boss, I'm in charge.'

'Oh, and- and what should I imagine with that?' she asks with a slight panic in her voice.

'Well, for example, you have to kiss her and touch her. Participate, take initiative.' Of course, the intention is not for her to lie there like a sack of salt all the time, and I can see her doing that.

I see her stiffen.

'What?! But that- I can- I can't do that, that- I don't want that,' she stammers.

'Okay,' I respond indifferently, 'then it's off. You'll hear from my lawyer.'

I turn around and walk away, not giving her a chance to respond. I grab my car keys and walk to my car, time to hit the gym.

That night I am ignored by way of manipulation; a tactic Barbra has become an expert in over the years. She doesn't realize that I welcome the peace it brings me with great pleasure. I can see that she is eating herself up in frustration, but she doesn't bring up my proposal again.

But the next day, to my surprise, she comes to me and tells me, all stammering, that she agrees to my conditions.

And once again I feel like a devil, devious and manipulative, a real bastard. And once again I don't give a damn. She brought this on herself.

And I'm immensely looking forward to the unexpectedly becoming reality of the threesome, it's time to arrange a few things, starting with a visit to the bakery.

***

I was very surprised when I had to visit an address a few weeks ago to give a quote for a renovation, and I found Kelsie there. The colleague who normally does the quotes was sick, and I had a little extra time on my hands.

When asked, Kelsie told me that she lived in the house with a friend, she had inherited the house from an aunt. After she had given me an extensive tour so that I could get an idea of the work, she offered me coffee, and we sat and talked for a long time, about all sorts of things.

After a while, some more intimate topics came up, and Kelsie is extremely open, it turns out. She told me without any embarrassment about all the things sexual she has done, with both men and women.

I still feel my ears turn red when I think back on it.

At first, I thought she was a lesbian, and my heart sank.

She had just told me that she and her roommate Jo not only chat a lot and drink gallons of wine, but also regularly share a bed, and not to keep each other warm.

Correctly interpreting my disappointed look, she quickly reassured me. 'Don't get me wrong,' she said, 'I don't just sleep with women, I also enjoy being fucked by a man, you know, both have their advantages. And even more at the same time,' she added with a mischievous grin.

It was a great relief to hear that she also likes men. I was already wondering, did I misinterpret her signals when flirting? Apparently not.

The conversation also turned to her fellow resident, Jo.

'And Declan, do you like big breasts, or not so much,' Kelsie asked at one point, looking at me teasingly.

'Small or big, I don't care,' I assured her, 'but,' I added with a wink, 'the bigger the better!' I guess I'm quite the boobs kinda guy, although I don't mind a nice round ass either.

'Then you'll appreciate Jo,' she giggled, 'double-D!'

She then showed me a picture of a cheerfully grinning redhead with a face full of freckles and mischievous bright blue eyes. Unfortunately, there was little to see of her bosom, but what I did see was enough to make me certain that I wouldn't mind getting to know Jo better.

Kelsie told me that she likes to experiment quite a bit when it comes to sex. And that she likes older men.

'And by older men,' she quickly reassured me, 'I mean men not my own age. Men in their thirties and forties have so much more experience, and patience, that's so much more fun.'

I sure hope I won't disappoint her.

But I'm not too worried about that, I still have quite a few tricks up my sleeve. I may not have as much experience with multiple bed partners as that slutty wife of mine, but I do know how to please a woman. And I've never lacked imagination. Although Barbra never wanted to cooperate with most of my fantasies, unfortunately.

I told her that I've always been a bit insecure about my appearance, especially because of the scar right next to my eye, the result of an accident on a construction site when I was an intern with my father. But since I've been going to the gym regularly, I don't think anyone pays attention to it anymore, women mainly look at my muscles, I've noticed. Kelsie agreed, and besides, she said, it's not something to feel insecure about, she actually found it very sexy, she thought it gave off a bit of a bad boy vibe. That was nice to hear, I have to admit.

I also opened up about my not exactly stable marriage, and that I actually felt a bit emasculated by my wife's belittling behaviour. Kelsie reacted indignantly, she couldn't imagine, I was a real catch according to her, kind, smart and handsome.

At one point my nineteen-year-old son Brent came up - at least, I'm still going to assume he's my son, and not the result of one of Barbra's extramarital affairs, luckily he does look like me - and while Kelsie realized with surprise that Brent is only two years younger than herself, she put a hand on my chest, at that moment my self-control had almost given out.

Kelsie had been very surprised when she also realized I'm already forty-one. Man, you don't wanna know what that did to me. And I could tell from her face that it wasn't flattery, she really thought I was in my early thirties, for goodness' sake!

Now I have to say that I have some genes in my favour. My hair is black and full, with not a trace of grey, and no bald spots anywhere.

What she asked next didn't make it any better: 'And is Brent as hot as you?'

I almost stripped her of her clothes on the spot to bend her over the arm of the couch to give her a thorough fucking, to show her how satisfying sex with a fit forty-something can be.

Kelsie is definitely good for my ego, but that's by far not the only thing that attracts me to her, her sincerity, her openness and genuine interest in others, it is a breath of fresh air compared to my egocentric, superficial Barbra.

But it got even better! When we parted, she surprised me by kissing me spontaneously, and it was definitely not a chaste kiss. I couldn't control myself; she smelled so good, and she looked so wonderfully fresh and sexy in her shorts and wide sweater hanging from her shoulders. I kissed her back and before I knew it, we were entangled in a hungry, exciting struggle with our tongues, I had an instant hard-on, and from her panting breaths the kiss didn't leave her unmoved either. My hands started exploring of their own accord, I can still feel the silky skin of her thighs and her firm buttocks when I pressed her against my erection.