"You seem a little bored, Steve. Can I buy you another scotch?"
"Yeah, sure. Aberlour. Neat."
Damn right, I was bored. It was my wife's staff party, and the majority of people there were not interested in anything but getting wasted on drugs I had no interest in, or getting so fucking drunk that I couldn't stand being around them. At least Fiona, the manager of the place, seemed as bored as I was, which was OK by me; she was an interesting lady, and also drank scotch. Besides, as usual, Tina, my wife, was nowhere to be seen.
"I always feel like I'm babysitting at these things," Fiona said with a bit of disdain in her voice. "I mean, they're a great staff, and they work their asses off around here, but the last fucking thing I need is a bunch of soap opera shit going on between staff members. Someone gets too loaded, does something stupid with someone equally loaded, and before you know it, I've got pissed off boyfriends storming in and hysterical waitresses running out in the middle of shifts. It's crap that I've dealt with before. Unwelcome crap."
I really liked Fiona. I wondered why she was doing this kind of thing for a living. She was damn good at it; she'd turned a pretty lame operation into a real hot spot in less than a year. No doubt, she was getting paid well for the job she was doing. But she seemed more like a lawyer or an investment banker than a restaurant manager.
"Yeah, I suppose that you don't have the luxury to be anyone's buddy when you are running a place like this, eh? Sort of a 'no consorting between enlisted ranks and officers' scenario, I'd guess."
She looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, her expression a little more serious.
"Yes, and no, actually." Fiona stated as she lit up a Peter Jackson. "Not so much that, it's just that I've got to keep the bullshit out of the business. I can't keep things from happening, but I do my best to keep those things from occurring around here."
A waitress brought us our drinks as Fiona offhandedly asked how things were between Tina and I. It was no real secret that we had an open relationship. If there was any secret about it, it was that the "open" part of it worked in Tina's favor a hell of a lot better than it did towards mine. I honestly didn't give a shit about what or who she did on the side; as a matter of fact, she was a hell of a lot easier to get along with when she was stepping out, even though our own sex life was really, quite good on it's own. Shit side was, that Tina could be a real asshole, out of the blue, if she even saw another woman talking to me. It didn't really matter, though. She had no idea who I'd actually been with, anyway.
"Alright, I guess," I stated flatly as I took a sip of scotch, letting it evaporate off of my tongue as I inhaled it's rich aroma. Fiona looked down at her drink, something being arranged within her thoughts.
"Steve, I'm going to be blunt. I honestly don't know why you are with Tina. You are a smart guy. And a good looking fucker, on top of it, and I'm not saying that to stroke your ego. But let me just run something by you, and then you can feel free to tell me to go fuck myself. Or, that I'm right." Fiona took the last drag of her smoke, and looked me right in the eye as she ground the butt into the ashtray.
"Well, Fiona, you have my attention, so why don't you tell me what's on your mind," I replied. I was intrigued.
"I'll just bet that when you met Tina, she was the filthiest, most perverted bitch you'd ever met. I'll bet that she begged you to do shit to her that you never thought people actually did outside of porno movies. Am I right so far, Steve?"
Dead right. I nodded at Fiona; she had Tina nailed.
"OK, then Steve, I'll bet the next round that she hasn't been the slut that she made herself out to be in a very long while. She probably started making up all kinds of excuses, and started reading all kinds of pseudo-feminist bullshit, and made it seem that you, and the rest of your gender, were somehow responsible for the fact that she begged you to piss in her mouth or fuck her up the ass in a department store changeroom, or some such place."
"Waitress, two more Aberlour, please!" I called out. How the fuck did she know?
Fiona smiled at me, kindly, her body language relieved that she hadn't freaked me out or offended me. She touched my hand, saying, "Would you mind if I called you, Steve? I think that we have a few things in common that we could both enjoy, that is, if you're interested."
"I am," I replied after a brief pause. "Here's my cell number. Give me a call. Sounds like fun."
I was actually quite surprised that Fiona called me only a couple of days after the party. My cell rang at around eleven thirty at night, about ten minutes after Tina had called to say that she was going out clubbing, and she'd be out late. Fiona told me to just come over to her house, but to come around the back entrance. She also suggested that I hurry, as "The Show" was about to begin.
"Show? What are you talking about?" I asked, my curiosity surging.
"You'll see when you get here, Steve. Oh, park around back, OK?"
I parked my car behind her garage and made my way up the unlit path that led to the rear entrance of Fiona's big old house. She met me as I walked up, and she held her index finger over her puckered lips in a silent "shhhhhh", and motioned me inside, then up a flight of stairs to a sun deck on the second floor. She handed me a scotch and invited me to sit down.
"So, what IS this "Show" that's about to start, Fiona?" I asked, rather puzzled by what it could be, and the fact that Fiona was wearing rather girlish looking flannel pyjamas.
She stood and pointed down at her driveway in front of her house. I stood and looked down toward it. Fiona's Honda was parked nearest the house. Tina's Mustang was parked behind it. And behind that, was a big Ford F-350 crew cab, with the name of some oilfield contractor on it.
"What the hell is going on here, Fiona?" I asked her, wondering if there was a point to any of this.
"Sit down, Steve, and I'll tell you what is going to happen, or is already happening down in the basement suite, OK? I'll give you an idea of what's going on, and you can decide if you're into checking it out for yourself."
She lit up a nicely rolled joint, then passed it over to me, saying, "Tina is a popular waitress, and brings in a lot of return customers. That's good. She's also something of a slut, though, and there were more than a few times that it was brought to my attention that she was out in the parking lot or behind the storage shed, sucking some guy off. Her business, I guess, and God knows that those guys would come back with their friends and spend a shitload of cash when they did, but, like I said, I dont need that kind of crap going on around the restaurant. MY restaurant. I don't just manage it, I bought it, so I've got a vested interest in the place. Anyway, one night, I went out to grab my smokes out of the car, and there is your lovely wife, taking it from behind while she's got her mouth stretched around a pair of cocks. I told her to meet me in the office when she was done. She came in thinking she WAS done, bawling like a little kid. I tossed her a key to my basement suite, and told her that if she was going to be doing that kind of shit, to do it here, or anywhere else but at work."
"So, what, then? You had me come over to tell me that my wife is using your basement to fuck around in? Why should I give a shit?" I was a little irritated; this wasn't making a whole lot of sense.
"SO, I thought that you might be interested in seeing your wife in action, that's what." she said as she took another pull of the spliff and passed it to me. "Right now, your wife is down in my basement, showing off those big fucking titties of hers to a bunch of coked up rig pigs, Steve. She's telling them about the filthy fucking things that she's done, and how she loves to be treated like the dirty fucking cocksucker that she is, and she is going to crawl around on the floor begging them to do the most degrading shit to her. So, wanna go watch?"
I felt a little sickened by the prospect of it. At the same time, my prick had become rock hard thinking about it, and some perverse part of me wanted to see it all for myself.
"I'm in. Do you have some kind of video hookup or something?"
"No, Steve, it will be live. You OK with that? It could get pretty intense. And you have to remain absolutely silent. Still in?" Fiona was anxious to get down there.
"Let's go."
Fiona led me down to a main floor bedroom that had a huge walk in closet. At the rear of the closet, on the floor, was an open metal grating that afforded a clear view of the basement suite's living room, and the bedroom. It was pitch black in the closet, the light from downstairs shining up through the floor. I could hear Tina's voice.
"Ready, Steve?" Fiona asked, giving me one last chance to bail out.
"Hell, yeah. Let's do it."
We got down on our bellies on the thick carpet. I looked down into the living room at my wife. She was wearing a very expensive bra, garter and silk stockings, and equally extravagant five inch heels. She was seated on the edge of a kichen chair, her legs spread, working a large dildo into her hairy purple cunt. In front of her sat five crude, dirty men, telling her what a whore she was, spitting insults and cocaine enriched wads of saliva at her.
"OK, cocksucker, why dont you show us how much of that fucking dildo you can swallow?" one of them snarled at her, as he stood and yanked the slippery rubber prick out of her snatch and sat it on the coffee table in front of her chair, it's ugly pink mass standing erect in front of her.
Tina crawled toward the edge of the table and wrapped her hands around the base of the plastic phallus. She kissed the massive head of it, licking her own thick cream off of it before stretching her lips around it. Her eyes scanned the motley fucks seated in front of her, begging them silently for what they'd come here for. She forced her mouth over the slimy silicone prick as far as she could manage. Her lips and face were perversely stretched and distorted around it, though she had taken less than half of it.
"Is that all you can fucking manage? You told us that you were the best cocksucker around, for fuck sake!" one of them said to her, her eyes following his as he stood.
"Maybe she just needs a bit of motivation." said another, as he stood and removed his belt.
