Victor Herrera walked with a purposeful stride as he left the fish market. Stepping quickly to the curb, he stuck his arm in the air, signaling for a taxi. The rush hour traffic meant he had to wait for ten minutes before a yellow cab pulled up to him. Broadway and Moore Street, please, he instructed the driver and sat back, with a satisfied sigh.
In his head, Victor went over all the details of his plan, making sure he hadn't left anything out. He had been appropriately cryptic with Kathleen this morning, telling her only that their anniversary dinner would begin at home. Victor had decided that this anniversary would be different. Rather than take her out to one of the fabulous food temples of downtown Manhattan, as he usually did, Victor decided to make this anniversary dinner more personal.
Victor met Kathleen Morgan during his first year as an associate at the law firm of Williams, Bradshaw and Cleary. She was an associate working in litigation while he was concentrating on mergers and acquisitions. The firm sponsored mixers for associates, partially to assuage their guilt for the 100 hour work week they demanded from associates. Victor saw Kathleen looking for an exit from an endless conversation with an overbearing junior partner.
I've been looking all over for you, Victor huffed, sliding his arm under Kathleen's and leading her quickly away.
"Excuse me," Kathleen asked as they entered the hallway, not that I'm not grateful, but who exactly are you? Victor's grin just turned up at the corners of his mouth.
If you'll allow me, I am the man who's going to take you to dinner, after we finish these drinks. Her green eyes narrowed for a moment, then she broke out into a grin.
She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, "I feel like Vietnamese food tonight."
They had dinner three times that first week. The third time, Victor showed off his culinary skills, plying Kathleen with chicken marsala and a creme brulee. They made love for the first time that night, slowly and passionately exploring each other's bodies, mentally mapping each crevice and favorite spot.
Five years later they were married.
Victor and Kathleen agreed that romance would take a back seat to their careers. They both wanted to make partner, and secure their professional futures, before they took the plunge. Two weeks after they received their partnership offers, Victor took Kathleen to Le Bernadin, the spectacular French restaurant on the West Side of Manhattan, and slipped a 2 carat diamond ring on her finger. Six months later, they were married in a small church ceremony.
Six years later, Victor rolled downtown in a cab, hoping to recapture some of the spirit of that night they first made love. The years since their marriage had been very productive; after making partner, Victor and Kathleen bought a duplex apartment downtown, not far away from the office, so they could get in early, and stay late. As time passed, the office became as much of a home as the apartment. Kathleen regularly flew around the country, overseeing depositions and trials, while Victor was in and out of the country regularly, working on billion dollar contracts for food distributors, communications companies, and defense contractors. Sex had become a hot, but rare, commodity.
"Tonight," Victor thought to himself as he exited the cab in front of his high-rise apartment building, that is going to change. He envisioned all the courses he had lovingly planned to bring to the table. First, a frisee salad with a champagne vinaigrette , followed by phyllo pastry filled with spinach in cream sauce, topped by an entree of wild salmon in a white wine sauce, with roasted new potatoes and green beans with almond slivers. For dessert, there would be a warm chocolate souffle, encircled by a 4 carat diamond bracelet. "I should be having sex for a month," Victor said to himself as he stepped to the elevator.
Victor and Kathleen agreed that they wanted an apartment in close proximity to their office. They also wanted a place with a tremendous view of Manhattan. They found a duplex in a high-rise near Battery Park City. As Victor entered their palace, he paused to enjoy the view of the Hudson River offered by their floor to ceiling glass door, which led to a full balcony. A moment later, Victor went into the kitchen and deposited his purchases in the refrigerator. He had three hours before he told Kathleen to arrive and he decided to shower before he began his preparations.
Stripping off his suit jacket as he climbed the stairway, Victor stopped suddenly. He heard a sound coming from the hallway. Waiting for a moment, Victor heard the sound again. "A high-pitched moan," he thought, "definitely a woman's voice."
Victor carefully removed his wing-tip shoes, and walked slowly down the corridor towards the master bedroom. As he neared the doorway, he began hearing a low-pitched grunting mingled with the female moans. The bedroom door was opened wide as Victor approached, and as he stood before the open door, he was stricken by the sight. On the bed, on her knees and laying on her forearms, was his wife Kathleen. Behind her, sweating profusely and grunting loudly, was Nelson Bryant, their fellow law partner, and Victor's best friend. As Victor watched, Nellie was slowly, but forcefully inserting his rigid penis into Kathleen's anus.
"Ahhhhhhhh, yesssss, fuck my ass!!," she screamed as she thrust back against Nellie's cock.
"Damn, Kathy, your ass is so fucking tight!" Nellie groaned as he thrust deeper inside her.
"Just keep fucking it, you dirty bastard," she yelled as she writhed on the mattress.
Victor stood, transfixed by the sight of his wife being cornholed by his best friend. He watched her full, round breasts rocking violently back and forth with each of Nellie's thrusts. He watched Nellie's gluteus muscles tensing as he pushed deeper inside Kathleen's rectum. As her anguished cries had reached a higher octave, Victor felt the initial rush of lust replaced by envy, and anger. "That ought to be me," he said to himself. He balled his fists, taking a step forward, then he stopped suddenly, as if hitting an invisible wall.
When Victor was thirteen years old, he was accused of cheating on a math test. He was innocent, but he knew who the guilty party was, and after school that day, Victor engaged him in a titanic battle across the concrete schoolyard and out into the street. Victor came home that night with his pants ripped at the knees, his knuckles skinned and bloody, and a black eye. When his father saw him that night, he made Victor tell him who the other boy was, and where he lived. Victor's father marched him over to the boy's house, and he made Victor apologize to his classmate, and the boy's parents, for the fight.
"It doesn't matter who was wrong," Victor's father explained later. "Ever since Cain killed Abel, people have used violence as a means of making themselves feel better. It didn't do anything for Cain, and it hasn't done a hell of a lot for you." Victor's father made him promise that night never to use violence to solve his problems. Those were the last meaningful words Victor shared with his father; Pedro Herrera died of a heart attack two weeks later.
Victor wanted to curse his father at this moment. He had never broken his promise to his father, and even now it fenced in his rage. Victor slowly backed away from the doorway, and stumbled down the hallway, towards the stairs. Victor picked up his shoes and jacket, and walked back downstairs to the living room. Lost in a sea of confusion, Victor retreated to the couch, collapsing on the soft leather.
The sounds from the bedroom grew less and less fervent over the next few minutes; Victor strained to hear the final throes of their lovemaking, and he couldn't shake the image of Nellie's cock in his wife's ass. Then, for what seemed like an eternity, there was only silence. After five minutes, Victor figured that they had fallen asleep. Suddenly, he heard heavy footsteps on the hardwood stairs.
The second floor hallway was recessed, so no one could see the floor below until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Victor was standing five feet away from the bottom step when Nelson Bryant reached the floor.
"Did you enjoy screwing my wife, Nellie?" Victor's tone was even and measured as confronted the stout, muscular lawyer who stood naked before him. Nellie stared passively at Victor, with almost a hint of a smile on his face. After an interminable silence, Victor brushed past his friend and climbed the stairs. "You're not the one who has to answer for this," he snarled as he went by.
Quietly, but firmly, Victor walked down the hallway. He wanted to approach in silence, to make his arrival as much of a surprise to his wife as possible. As he reached the door, he was that he needn't have worried. Kathleen was splayed out on the mattress, lying on her stomach, her soft auburn hair cascading across her shoulders and a sheen of perspiration still making her pale, creamy skin glisten.
Victor crept silently towards the bed, watching his wife with equal measures of desire and disgust. He hadn't really planned what he would do when he reached this point. He settled for the direct approach. Violently grabbing Kathleen's hair in his hand, he lifted her head off the pillow and hissed in her ear, "Did you like having his cock in your ass? Was it as good as mine?"
"Victor!" she screamed. She pressed her palms against the mattress and attempted to gain leverage to escape. Victor had none of it, bringing the force of his arms down on her back, pressing her against the mattress, as he climbed on top of her. Victor straddled Kathleen's back, feeling her body wriggling desperately beneath him. He wrapped his hands around her wrists, pinning her to the bed.
"Did you have fun, Kathleen?" Victor hissed as he leaned against her struggling body. "Did you have fun fucking my best friend in our marriage bed?"
Kathleen continued to struggle, pushing up with her arms. Each time, Victor slammed her down against the mattress. Pressing his knee into her back, Victor quickly removed his silk neck tie. Grabbing her right wrist, Victor wrapped the tie around her wrist twice, then tied it in a tight knot around wrought iron bed post.
"Victor, what are you doing?" Kathleen screamed as he stood up over her. Smiling thinly, Victor began removing his clothes. Victor unbuckled his trousers, letting them fall to the floor.
Kathleen began screaming. "Nelson! Nelson!" as her left hand tore fruitlessly at the silk band that tied her to the bedpost.
"I don't think he's going to come up here right now," Victor said coldly as he dropped his shirt to the floor. "Not if he knows what is good for him."
Victor slipped off his boxer shorts, and his erect penis stood before him like a lance at a medieval jousting tournament. He crawled on top of Kathleen, pushing her head down on the pillow. He ground his body against her skin; the slick sweat had turned cold. Reaching forward, Victor tugged at the tie, unknotting the silk. Grabbing her by the wrists, Victor pulled his wife violently, rolling her over onto her back.
"You love sex, don't you baby?" Victor growled as her squeezed her wrists tightly. "Remember all those night we would do it three, maybe four times? I'm sure you're ready to go for it again, aren't you baby?"
Kathleen wrenched her right hand free and swung wildly, slapping Victor in his jaw. He laughed loudly as he grabbed her wrist and slammed it back against the bed. "Come on baby, don't be so mean," Victor said in a sing-song voice as he forced his knee in between Kathleen"s legs. She twisted and wriggled underneath him as he rubbed his thigh slowly up and down against her pussy.
