Office Lothario Taedown

This is just a short one that popped into my head at three o'clock one morning. I was not sure which category to put this in, but LW seemed to fit the best.

I had just started dinner when my wife, Rachel, came in. The frown on her face destroyed her beautiful looks. What the bloody hell was she going to lay on me now?

I hated that look, she was gorgeous and had improved with age. Long wavy blond hair, the cutest face and all the curves in all the right places.

"It's happening again." She said.

"Then you had better stop it, you know what nearly happened last time and this time I will carry through. I don't care if you cheat or not, any antics like last time and you're out."

The Past

Rachel made some bad choices several years ago, but came to her senses and told me all about it. She told me she was tempted, but realised it was wrong and what she would lose if she went ahead. Her self-respect, respect of her family and friends and lose the husband she loved and her future.

He had been so persuasive that everything would be okay and they could not get caught if they were careful. The adventure, the excitement of it. He had been chasing her gently for months. But she had mentioned none of the little things to he did and the lunch time coffee shop visits to me.

She went out for a drink with him one evening and did not tell me she was going out with a man. They kissed, and touched in a manner a husband would not approve of, even if it was over clothing. That was when she realised what was happening.

We had been going through a rough patch at the time. My Dad had just passed away. Mum was taking it hard. We were short of money as I was helping Mum out and I was working long hours to make up the shortfall. Rachel was lonely and feeling neglected, because she was.

He spotted her disquiet, and it made her vulnerable and he took advantage of that. She sat me down when she got home that evening and told me all about what happened and how she felt. We talked, some of it angry on both sides, divorce was mentioned. By the end she understood my point of view of helping Mum. I understood her point of view of feeling neglected. We made up in bed and we both changed, just a little. It did not take much for a big result.

Despite her telling him to back off and reporting him to HR nothing changed. He was just more discrete, so she asked for my help.

I did, I had words with him not to chase married women, it hurt my hand, I had bruises and I was wearing gloves.

It worked.

This one had a different approach. Go for the married with children. No commitment, no responsibility, he just had to be careful not to get caught.

The Present

"No, I've got a handle on it, it's not me. He's hitting on the younger, more vulnerable ones." Then she said quietly. "Sweetheart that was nine years ago, I've not put a foot wrong since. I learned from my mistake. I just wished I could have learned from other people's mistakes."

We live in a military town and there are lots of young wives around, their husbands are away a lot and some of them have children, but don't have the benefit of parents living close by. We had all sorts of colour uniforms, Khaki, Navy Blue and even some Crab Fat Blue*.

She carried on. "These young girls have got friends, but they can't be there all the time, they have their own problems. He seems to be friendly with everybody in the office and I think he's just trying it on to see who's vulnerable."

"Can't you warn them?"

"I've tried, some of them have listened to me, but others just think I'm an old fart. They said so, I overheard one of the girls in the toilet say, 'look at that Rachel sticking her nose in, bloody old fart', for Christ's sake I'm only 36."

She carried on. "He is devious, he tried it on with me. But I just ignored him. I don't think he was serious with me, just trying to be seen as treating everyone the same. Even the 'old fart'."

I smiled at her. "A very sexy 'old fart'.

"Sweetheart, I need your help. I need a man of strength and your deviousness to stop him damaging marriages, like that twat nearly did to ours nine years ago."

She told me a bit more about him. He was married and his wife was an officer in the Army and was away a lot. They had their own house on the edge of town, no children and he seemed to have money of his own by the way he dressed and the car he drove. It was as if he had a job as a sort of hobby with his wife being away so much.

I had seen him at company functions. He was a tall, good looking, well built bloke, with the arrogance of someone who looked good and knew it. I knew his name was Gerald.

Rachel told me he came in a few weeks ago with a black eye and his face all bruised, he told everyone he got mugged and he fought them off. But his flash watch was missing, and she saw him paying for his dinner by cash, not by his phone like he normally did. When she got back to her desk, she phoned the number listed for him and heard the refrain. 'This number is no longer in service'.

She had looked at his knuckles, they were not bruised like mine had been nine years ago. He played the victim. She thought one of the husbands of someone he was playing around with found out and had 'words' with him.

I took her hand, led her upstairs and showed her that I thought she was a very sexy 'old fart'.

The Christmas Party

She didn't want to go to the Christmas party. But we had been every year, it would look odd if we didn't go. She looked nice as she hung onto my arm as we went in. It was annoying to see everybody fawning over the 'victim, hero'. His wife wasn't with him, some excuse about conflicting arrangements, she had a mess function to attend. He moved around the room asking a lot of the ladies to dance. Nobody turned him down.

Gerald approached us, it was obviously our turn to fawn over him. He was very polite, he looked at me and as held his hand out to my wife, he said to me. "Do you mind?" He was smirking at me. I wanted to slap his face.

"Be my guest."

We had talked about this very thing. It would be rude to say 'No' to the victim, hero and it would stand out as looking odd. She took his hand and he led her onto the dance floor. It wasn't a particularly fast or slow dance. About halfway through he leaned in and whispered something to her. She stood back aghast and slapped him across the face, hard. It was loud, she stormed off the dance floor. The place went quiet. He just stood there with his arms out as if to say, 'what did I say.'

I didn't look at him. I watched the other party goers. I wish I had a camera to capture the scene and I could study the faces later. A lot of men were smirking, some of the women were aghast and some had a look on the face that said he got what he deserved.

"What did he say to you?" I asked quietly.

"He asked if I was enjoying the party."

It went exactly according to the plan.

We saw my wife's boss go and talk to Gerald, and then he came across them to us. "What did he say to you?" He asked.

"He said something very inappropriate."

"That's not what he says."

"Well, it's up to you Sir. Do you believe me or the married man who's trying to dance with all the women in this place? I know he lied about the mugging. His hand was not damaged, his knuckles weren't bruised. He didn't hit anybody. His phone and wallet were missing, and we haven't seen his expensive watch. He's no hero, he didn't beat up his attacker, okay he is a victim and now he's playing on it. We've both seen that sort of antics before in an office. I will leave it up to you to decide Sir." With that she stood up and walked away heading towards the toilet. He was dismissed, that might not go down well for her on Monday.

Things settled down after the slap 'incident'.

After a while he latched onto one of the young girls whose husband was in the Navy and was away at sea. We watched. She was with friends, she fended him off quite well at the start of his attentions, but he was persistent he kept on buying everybody at the table drinks. If you walked in, you would have thought they were a foursome.

I asked my wife. "What do you think he is saying to her?"

"He'll be praising her husband in some way. 'What a fortunate man he is to be married to her'. 'How brave she is to marry someone who was in the Navy'. 'She is so brave to have children and it must be hard work?'. 'Does she get time to relax', 'When does she have some fun? 'She must be lonely.' And 'she is so good having a job'. From her accent she is from up North, so family are a long way away. They will be of little help.

"Thinking about it, in the past week or so someone has been dropping little posies of flowers on her desk. I don't think she knows where they come from. That's what that twat did to me." She looked down into her lap. I looked at her and there were tears in her eyes. I took hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"He won't stop, he'll keep sniping away. He will praise everybody, her husband, but especially her, he'll say things like 'You're perfectly safe with me', 'don't worry I will look after you'. He will lead her into a false sense of security. It will start with just a little kiss on the cheek. If he doesn't succeed tonight, he probably won't even try too much in front of all these people. He will try to make it look like he is supporting a wife of one of our servicemen.  He will continue to dig away at her until he succeeds or is stopped.

"Looking from the outside now, I can see how gullible I was."

I saw him head towards the bar. I followed him. I had a plan to protect the sailor's wife from his advances, at least for now. I stood behind him, he bought his drinks, he had a tray full. When he turned around, I was too close to him. It didn't take much for me to knock the tray of drinks over his front. He would have stepped back from me if he wasn't so close to the bar.

"Whoops, I'm very sorry let me get you some more." I said, looking up at him in the eyes and smiling. His front was soaked in red wine, Guinness, I could smell cider and I'm sure there's a gin and tonic in there somewhere.

He looked at me, I was smiling a broad grin. It was obvious I didn't mean what I said. I said quietly to him, but I'm sure others heard. "Only fuck your own wife."

He stormed out the door. I bought some more drinks for the sailor's wife and her companions. I walked across to them. I managed to get there with all the drinks intact. She looked at me a little bit ashamed and said, "Thank you." I wasn't sure what she was saying 'thank you' for, for getting rid of the predator or buying the drinks. Her companions give me a shy smile. I think they knew what was happening, but not how to handle it.

I decided there and then, he would have to be stopped. And I just might take great pleasure in doing it.

The Warning

I watched Gerald leave the supermarket. I got on my bicycle and rode through the nearby woods to the road junction I had selected. It was dusk, but I knew the way by now. This was the 4th time I'd done it. This time it went as planned. When he slowed down for the stop sign there were no other cars behind him. I threw the Calthrops under his car as he rolled along, they were just 6-inch nails bent and welded together attached by a big rope to a tree. As he pulled away, they punctured his rear tyres and rattled up the back of the car.

I quickly dragged them in and threw them into the undergrowth. I would collect them later. I saw him pull round into the nearby layby, get out of the car and go round to the rear right-hand wheel. I snuck up behind him and looped the noose around his neck and pulled it tight.

He managed to get his fingers under the rope between his neck before I got it tight. I pulled it a little tighter, it wouldn't come loose until I decided. That would trap his right hand out of the way. An unexpected bonus. I leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Walk into the woods and you might live if not, I'll drag you by your neck and you won't survive."

If he could see me, he would know there was no way I could drag him, he would probably choke.

He did as he was told, every now and then I gave him a tug and directed him to the small clearing I had selected. I threw the rope over a branch and secured it so he was on the balls of his feet. It went off to one side, out of his reach, but not mine. I went round in front of him. That was when he realised I was much smaller than he was. He won't recognise me because I was wearing a black balaclava. He tried to kick me, that wasn't a good idea because I just pulled on the rope until he was on his tiptoes.

The sun had gone down now, but there was a bright moon, enough to see by.

He used his left hand to hold on to the rope. He was choking, I let go of the rope, undid his belt and pulled the zip of his flies down, then yanked his trousers and underpants down around his ankles.

I pulled a bread knife out from where it had been tucked in the back of my trousers, he saw the lovely serrated edge glinting in the moonlight. He may have noticed a piece of string hanging from it. Probably not as I pulled a cock cage out of my pocket. I held them both up in front of him, giving a sawing motion with the knife. Then I indicated which one he wanted by lifting each one up in turn. He nodded to the cage. It was a no brainer really. I carefully slipped it on not wanting to touch his man parts. I clicked the padlock on, I said to him. "The only married woman you fuck from here on is your own, nobody else's." He tried to nod his head, it was a little difficult. Then I took my pièce de résistance out of my pocket. I gave the rope another little tug. His head went up, then I poured a little super glue over into the key slot of the padlock on the cage. A tiny bit dropped from the nozzle onto his man parts. He may not have noticed the burning sensation as he was trying to breathe.

I eased the rope, so he was back on the balls of his feet. He glared at me. I think he was considering kicking me, but with his trousers around his ankles that would have been a dangerous and stupid thing to do. I took the key to the padlock, which also had a piece of string attached and tossed into a tree branch in front of him. He would probably be able to reach it, he was quite tall. I held the bread knife out to him, handle first. He gently put his hand out. I quickly slipped the string around his wrist and dropped the knife to dangle on the string, he started winding it in quite quickly and got the handle into his hand. He was sensible enough not to try and stab me.

I walked away behind him and got far enough away so I could see how he got on. He quite quickly freed himself cutting through the rope, he removed the noose from his neck and threw it on the ground. That was another bonus, I could retrieve both bits of rope and leave less evidence.

With a jump he managed to snag the string with the key attached. Much good it would do him. He then took hold of the cage with both hands, and I heard him scream. I'm guessing the glue was still wet and he managed to glue at least one of his hands to the cage. That was going to hurt. I didn't think I put that much on, I just tried to block the keyhole. But it was hard to judge in the moonlight. Oh dear never mind. He wrenched his hands free and looked at them, it was both hands then. He pushed the key into the lock, but it wouldn't turn, well it wouldn't. It was the wrong key, and now it was glued into the padlock.

As if after going through all that hassle would I just give him the key! I think I heard him cry. He headed back towards his car. I quietly followed him, collecting the rope on the way. He got in the car and drove away, I think he just wanted to get away. He had run flat tyres so as long as he drove carefully, he would be okay. I went and retrieved the ropes and my calthrops on my way back to my bike. On the way I threw the real key into the undergrowth.

We have friends who work in the local hospital, rumours were abound. No names you understand but it appears when he turned up, it was initially thought it was a sex game gone wrong, so they phoned his wife. Then they saw the key and the Super Glue, they realised this was probably a revenge thing, so they called the police. They interviewed him and I'm sure he gave him the names of the married women he'd been chasing.

It turned out his wife came to collect him as the Police would not let him drive his car with tyres in that state. Our friends told us they could hear her shouting at him and the words 'Divorce this time' were heard quite a lot, often accompanied with solder type expletives.

When they got nothing from people they interviewed, all the husbands and partners of the women who worked in the building got to visit as well. My wife gave me an alibi for the times in question. After the Old Bill had gone, she said quietly to me. "That was you, wasn't it?" She carried on not giving me time to reply. "It's part of me saying thank you that I gave you the alibi and I will swear that black is white that you were with me when that happened to him."

She held her hand out, I took it. Then my sexy 'old fart' led me upstairs to show me the rest of her thanks.

*

For those of you wondering about Crab Fat Blue, Google 'RAF Crab Fat Blue'. The British Military, like many others, have a tradition of taking the piss out of their fellow armed forces.