Go Down Together Pt 01

Go Down Together (Part 1)

My wife, Blair, is what some would call a self-made woman, although others have called her business tactics a graceless display of naked ambition.

Either way, you slice it, she'd found success at twenty years of age, selling her private collection of rare stamps to finance a trip to the Soviet Union, where she traded privatization vouchers on the Russian commodities exchange. After graduating from Brown, she hit them hard, laying the foundation for half a dozen startups before selling out for large profits.

By the time I met her, she'd made her money, as they say in the business; I was a new hire in her latest startup, a thirty-year-old computer programmer without a rudder. She showed up at my cubicle one morning, taking off her glasses so I could better understand what I was dealing with. She saw through me in one flashing green glance, a greeting, and a warning that said try me at your own risk.

"I've been hearing good things about you, Adam."

"I try to do my part, ma'am."

"Ma'am is it?" she said with a laugh. "I go by Blair, mostly. A few of us are having cocktails after work. Care to join? I promise not to keep you past your bedtime."

Not long after, the other programmers started giving me the cold shoulder. Who was I to be climbing into the boss's Escalade for extended lunch breaks?

Did I say lunch? Blair was taking me to her loft and fucking me silly.

The first time it happened, she straddled my hips and humped me halfway through the mattress. I knew I wouldn't last long at the rate she was going. "Slow down," I panted.

All that got me was a sharp slap across the face, then she used the heels of her hands to push my face sideways on the bed. "Your gonna fuck me, RIGHT!" she snarled, "Come on, pretty boy, give me a baby."

A year later, we were married. Two months after that, she had a first-trimester miscarriage.

She quit giving me blow jobs. Instead, she sent me to a urologist. My sperm tested wonky. Blair got her babies scientifically; they fished some eggs, mixed them with donor sperm, then planted the zygotes in a couple of surrogate mothers.

Meanwhile, she kept doing shots of donor sperm, but as I said somewhere, it wasn't my cock she was sucking.

The babies were outstanding; a boy and a girl, and, not that I had any privileges, Blair kept her tight cunt.

***

Just now, I'm mixing margaritas for Blair and her latest stud. They walked in 15 minutes ago, and I have my orders,

"Adam, would you be a dear and bring refreshments to my bedroom in ten minutes? I'll take a glass of Chablis."

She ran an index finger across the stud's chest, saying, "What would you like, Doll-face?"

Doll-face, a handsome young black man, wanted a Manhattan. I mixed it strong to see if he'd still be able to get it up. Not that it mattered; Blair could choke down a balloon animal if she set her mind to it.

It was the usual routine; I'd serve them their refreshment and then, per Blair's instructions, take my place in an armchair not eighteen inches from the action. Blair knew how to enjoy herself. My humiliation was her way of kicking me in the balls.

I prepared the refreshments and pushed the service cart down the hall to Blair's bedroom. She signaled me through the open door, and I pushed the cart forward.

Doll-face knew his role. Stand in front of Blair and get his cock sucked.

When I arrived, he was down to his boxers and a tank top, and Blair was sitting sideways at her vanity. When she saw me, she yanked his boxers down and grabbed his meat, which stretched to 8 or 9 inches and stiffened rapidly. It was very veiny and brown, except for the head, which was cream-colored because of vitiligo. She poked the tip of her tongue in the pee hole, pulled out a thread of precum, and started sucking just as I took my seat.

Doll-face's nuts had been hanging low until then, but as soon Blair's tongue slid across his sweet spot, his sack tightened, round as a brown billiard ball. He didn't have a leg under him about two minutes later. Still, Blair had a hold of his crinkled pouch with one hand and the other wrapped around his shaft, and she was kind of pulling up on his entire unit, which seemed to stabilize him while she slavered his cock head and frenulum with sloppy kisses. I couldn't have looked away if I wanted to, and the next thing I knew, Doll-face was shooting his load in Blair's mouth, and she was squeezing his sack and twitching as dribbles of cum oozed out the corners of her mouth. She was humming away, "Mm-hmm," digging her nails in his ass and swallowing down his jizz. I wasn't queer his cock, but I could see what time it was, and I knew just how it felt to blow a load in Blair's mouth and how she kept sucking for more cum and clawing your ass at the same time and the entire thing was so fucking savage that my cock was throbbing from watching the two of them. Blair knew exactly what was going on with me, and she was so worked up from sucking Doll-face's cock, that she told me to start jerking off while I watched her stuff his entire bag in her mouth.

"That's not going to happen," I said.

"What's the matter, Adam? Scared you won't measure up."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"How about your little fantasy girl? Does she know what I'm talking about?"

She turned to Doll-face.

"Adam has a crush on one of our nannies. Isn't that right, Adam? Oh, and you should see this girl; she's a natural beauty. Why, she makes flowers blush. Isn't that right... "

"Knock it off, Blair!"

I glared at Doll-face. He held his hands up. "I got nothing to say about it," he said, looking uncomfortable.

"Just wait a minute here," continued Blair, "I really want to know. Come on, Adam, how big a cock is little Tammy-whammy used to? Does she swallow?"

I started to walk out.

"Just hold it right there, fuck. You can take our guest with you."

I escorted Doll-face to the elevator while Blair smeared 'Forever Forty' cold cream on her face. The stainless doors opened with a woosh. Doll-face smiled and tried to fist-bump me. I said, "You seem like a nice kid, but don't try to get friendly."

I started thinking about Tammy, and then Blair.

Why in fuck did I let her get away with it? How did a miscarriage turn her into such a hateful cunt? I could swing the election if I had an answer to those questions.

Tammy had been with us for a year. Her older sister, D., ran the business out of Thornton, Colorado. She kept her ship tight, employing women she could count on, her daughters, sisters, and a couple of close friends.

The daughters were buxom young women who came and went depending on their situations. The lynchpin nannies, Tammy and Rebecca, flew in from out of state to work ten-day shifts before returning home. Rebecca from Orlando and Tammy, the beautiful one from Dallas.

The day Tammy came on shift, I wished she'd stay forever.

The same night, I'd walked out on the patio at four in the morning. The air smelled like pot. She was caught, and she knew it. I couldn't have cared less about the pot.

"Please don't mention this to your wife, sir."

"You have my promise," I said. "Have a good evening, Tammy."

She was hard to look at for a guy used to watching his cunting wife suck off her interns. I hadn't been laid in two years, and Tammy was a dead ringer for young Margot Kidder. She stood just under six feet tall in Italian flats, exquisitely braless, wearing high-waisted slacks that met a silk blouse at her mid-waist. Her hair was up, fastened in the back with a claw clip.

Blair was in Atlantic City. It was beautiful. I told Tammy she didn't have to hide in her room all night. "Go out for a movie or something. There's a lot to do in Boulder. She seemed unsure about going out on the town."

"Would it be ok if I watched a movie here?" she asked.

I threw up my hands and laughed. "Why not," I said.

"Would you pick for me?"

"Sure, if that's what you prefer."

"It doesn't matter, sir."

I picked Bonnie and Clyde and left her in the T.V. room with the remote control.

The following morning, she was packed and ready for Texas.

"Here," I said, holding out a book. "It's something to read on the flight."

She took the book, read the cover, and smiled.

"Go Down Together: The True, Untold Story of Bonnie and Clyde."

"Yeah," I said. "Watch out for the pictures; some are gruesome."

She thumbed to the middle of the book and flipped through the photos while I watched for her reaction. I wondered if she knew her effect on me. Of course, she must have.

She'd accepted the book, and that was good. Seeing her linger on the photos was even better. It excited me. I imagined her and me striking the same villainous poses as Bonnie and Clyde. I've got my arm around her waist, we're toting guns, and my hand slides to her backside.

Tammy closed the book and stuffed it in her luggage.

"You weren't kidding; Sheesh, what a slaughter."

"Right," I said, "The ambush picture shows them slumped against each other in the front."

"It was horrible but kind of romantic, too."

My eyes lingered on her tits.

The next moment her phone rang. An Uber had arrived to take her to DIA. She pulled her luggage across the white tile floor to the elevator.

"See you in twenty days, Tammy."

She turned and winked. I went to the window, watching her climb into the cab. I followed her with my imagination, walking out on Blair the following morning, hotwiring a 1934 Ford sedan, and heading for Arkansas.

***

The vehicle was the best in her class; she had a flat-head V8 purring steady under the hood and all the horsepower a man could ask for. I stopped at a filling station on four corners with nothing but farmland in every direction.

The pump jockey pushed his hat back and let out a slow whistle.

"Hoo-wee, mister, she's a fine-lookin' vehicle," he said. "How fast will she go?"

"Faster than a cop car," I said, "But it ain't speed that counts so much as how you handle a machine like this. What's your name, kid?"

He looked at me with an expression of dumb adoration, and I figured he might be useful.

"Jim," he said.

"How much do they pay you, Jim?"

"Pay me for what?"

"Look, kid," I said, "don't get reckless, and don't give me fast answers. Nobody likes a smartass, and you know fucking well what I'm talking about, so I'm gonna ask you again. How much for wasting your life pumping gas in this shithole?"

He stuffed a rag in the back pocket. "Twenty cents an hour, which ain't bad on account of...."

"Twenty cents an hour! That's just sad, man. Come on and admit it, you ain't got a pot to piss in."

I pulled the rag out of his pocket and dusted off my shoes.

"Sure I do, mister; I mean, sure I have."

"You do, or you have?"

I pulled my jacket open so he could know I was packing.

"You know what this is, don't you, kid?"

"I reckon it's a Colt .45."

"Maybe you ain't dumb after all. Fill the tank, kid. You got a cash box inside, am I right?"

"I reckon that's right."

"Who else is in there?" I asked, indicating the station.

"Nobody."

"You like pussy, don't you, Jim?"

"Course I do, Mr.... I"

"You just had none, is all. Right, Jim...right!

Jim hung his head.

"Naw, I guess I ain't."

"Well, hell, Jim, let's go get you some."

I pulled the Colt from my shoulder holster and pointed it at a fence post. I squeezed off a round.

"There just one thing first, Jim, and that's you bringing out that cash box. Make it easy, Kid; I don't want to hurt you."

Jim stood up to his full height, which was two inches over me, and said,

"I guess you gotta dare me, Mr."

I poked him in the shoulder with the barrel of my Colt and said, "I double dare you."

Fate had it all worked out that Jim would be the newest member of my gang and the first to get himself killed because he wasn't fast on the trigger. I suppose part of the blame was on me. I could have shown him what to watch out for better, but I didn't have time for it. Jim was in the right place at the wrong time, and that was it. I didn't figure him for a dead man, not with his babyface, curly blond hair, and simple ways. I'd planned on robbing the first easy mark in my path, nothing more, so I guess it was providence that Jim was eager to show his guts and easy to order around.

He grabbed the cash box and a case of soda pop, and off we went.

"Where are we headed?" Jim asked.

"Well, you'll just find out when we get there," I said. "Did you ever rob an armory?"

Jim slapped the car seat and let go with a high-pitched laugh. And then he looked bewildered.

"An armory, what kind of armory?"

I said, "The kind with guns, dummy. We might even steal a cannon if I'm in the mood."

Jim pulled off his hat, slapped the seat with it, and shouted, "A Goddamn cannon; I knew you were something the moment I set eyes on you, mister."

All that did was piss me off because Jim taking the Lord's name in vain was something I knew Tammy would frown on really hard since she enjoyed reading the bible and was fond of writing poetry. So, I grabbed Jim's hat and tossed it out the window, and called him a dumb sonofabitch and let him know I'd just as soon put a bullet through his head as look at him when it came right down to it, so he might as well get used to how he should talk around Tammy since we were headed for Arkansas and would be hooking up with the rest of my gang soon. He apologized hard and looked like he was getting ready to piss himself, which made me feel sorry for him, so I asked him nicely,

"Did I hear you say you like pussy, Jim? Because I've got a brother, Buck, whose wife, Blair, has got herself a real fine pussy. She keeps it nice, too. All fresh and smelling like baby powder."

"Now, how's a man know a thing like that about his brother's wife?" Jim asked.

"Well, I guess Blair showed it to me one day and asked what I wanted to do about it. She'd had no cock since the owner of a store we robbed flew out with a scatter gun and put a load of birdshot straight in Buck's ass. Some of that lead found its way to Buck's pecker and fucked it up badly. At first, I told Blair it wasn't right, but then she said she wasn't used to hearing a man say no, especially when getting set to suck his cock. Tammy was sitting there with a grin, and she told Blair she reckoned I had enough dick for both of them."

We drove on in silence for better than an hour after I'd let him know how it was with Blair, and then he turned to me and asked if it was true what I'd said about her, so I let him know he'd find out as soon as we reached the tourist camp where the gang was hiding out.

The sun started dropping out of the sky, so I pulled into a patch of trees and shut her down for the night. I had no cause for night driving because I wasn't being chased and was dead tired. Jim had been passing gas something awful for the last hour; he went behind a tree to relieve himself. I could have left him then and there because he looked like shit in his mechanic's overalls, and he was young and out of his league and more than likely to get killed from knowing me. Still, I'm telling you now, I don't give two shits about other people's problems, and that's what kept me from driving off and letting him find his way home.

He kept asking me what would happen next, and the more he asked, the more it pissed me off. I didn't want to shoot him for no reason, but when I saw him piss, I couldn't help but see how much bigger his cock was than mine, and then I started worrying that Tammy would find out about it since I figured on him fucking Blair. And then I was worried because all I had was Tammy, and we both knew we were going down together, and I wanted it to stay perfect like that.