"I'm going to fuck your wife."
As I heard those words I broke into a wide grin.
Tonight was going to be exciting.
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We went to her company christmas party. It was the third year we'd been. I didn't particularly enjoy these get togethers, but we liked dancing and she always dressed up and the drinks were free. My wife was also really good at her job, and she always went home with a stack of rewards. Between the drinking and the dancing and the recognition for her fine work we always had half our clothes off by the time we got home each year.
This year she had a new boss. Steven Jenkins. Steven was a grade A prick. Her old boss was great. Helpful, protected his people, he'd taken my wife under his wing and taught her a lot of what made her so successful today. But Steven was totally different. He constantly belittled his Team and took credit for every good thing they produced. He thought he was God's gift to women too and had come perilously close to a sexual harrasment suit more than once. But so far while he'd flirted with the line, and many of his female employees, he hadn't done anything that warranted action. Yet.
He was also a cheap son of a bitch. Usually this was a big fancy to do with champagne and a catered dinner. This year
he rented a gym at the Y and provided crackers and sausage and cheese. He still had an open bar, he seemed like a functional alcoholic so it didn't suprise me that he would splurge on that out of everything.
My wife and I were sitting at a table waiting for the awards ceremony eating our cheese plates and I noticed he kept glancing over at us. The awards were coming up and my wife knew she'd be recognized for several of her accomplishments, so she decided to get up and make a last trip to the bathroom to freshen up her makeup before they dimmed the lights.
She had barely left the table when Steven plopped down in her chair next to me. He picked up a cracker off her plate and popped it into his mouth. I already didn't like the guy and the idea of him sitting in my wife's chair and picking at her food was particularly irritating.
But he was her boss and I'm polite. "Nice party Steve. Thanks for putting this together." I said to him.
He just grinned and looked at me. Then he said it. "I'm going to fuck your wife."
As I heard those words I broke into a wide grin.
Tonight was going to be exciting.
Being the arrogant piece of shit I knew him to be, he
misunderstood my expression. "You like that huh? I knew you'd be a wimp." He started, "I'm not even going to have to offer. I've seen your wife. Dressed like a slut and dancing all night. She wants it. I guarantee by the end of the night she'll be asking me for it. Maybe if you're lucky I'll let you watch."
I leaned forward in my chair. "How long have you been working with my wife Steven?"
He cocked his head a little. "Almost a year. And I've been working on her the whole time. From the moment I met her and saw the wedding ring on her finger I knew I'd be sticking my cock in her fat ass." He felt like turning the screws because he had me right where he wanted me.
"What do you see in her? She's a middle aged mother with the body of a middle aged mother. I mean, sure, I think she's beautiful. She's been with me through the tough times. Deaths, bankruptcies, evictions. She's fat because she's had four of my children. Her breasts are sagging from breastfeeding. The things that make her look her age are the signs of our life together and I'm in love with every stretch mark and wrinkle. But a guy with your money and looks, I'm sure you could do better. What's in it for you?" Steven wasn't a looker, but he was a fairly average 40 year old man with a good job. I'm sure if he was a decent human being he'd have been able to find a nice girl.
"I like married women. They're desperate for a real fucking, they know it's not going to be a long term relationship, and
when they start resisting I can threaten to blow up their lives and make them do really depraved shit to keep their secret. Eventually I get tired of them and dump their fat asses, but not until I've buried my cock in them. Then I send them back home for hubby to deal with."
Now I cocked my head, "But you've kind of blown that plan right here by telling me Steven. So why my wife?"
Now he laughed. "Because I could tell what a pussy you were and I wanted to hurt you. You're right, I can do better than that slut and now I can't blackmail her. But I won't have to. Once she gets this dick she'll keep coming back for more. And it'll destroy you but you won't be able to stop it. Because you're a wimp. I wanted to hurt you, because that's what I really get off on. And now I am."
He wasn't hurting me quite as much as I think he suspected, but I didn't like him calling my wife a slut. It was time to change the subject. "Tell me Steven, in the year or so you've worked with my wife, have you ever talked about me?"
He laughed again. "Oh sure. We talk about you all the time. What a loser you are. How little your dick is. How much you suck in bed. How you can't keep her happy or provide the life she desires. You're our favorite topic of discussion." I didn't believe any of it, but he was really feeling it now. He was on a roll and he wasn't slowing down any time soon.
"Did she ever tell you who I used to be?" I asked him. And he
got a slightly confused look in his eye.
"What were you some kind of super soldier or something? You gonna call your army buddies and get me?"
"No," I replied simply. "Never served."
"Ok, you used to roll with a bad crew? Have some kind of connections to the criminal underworld you think you can threaten me with? I'm not buying it. You're too straight laced."
"You're right about that. Never ran with a bad crew. Not cool enough for that sort of thing. Never even smoked a joint."
"Alright then, what is it? Enough with the mystery. What did you used to be?"
I had his interest now, so I leaned in over the table towards him and spoke low. "You're gonna love this. We'll have a big laugh and then we can get on with tonight's planned festivities." I looked around comicly and motioned for him to lean in.
As he did, drawn in by my speech and mannerisms, I reached under the table and felt my fingertips brush the end of his tie. It was hanging down and I wrapped my hand around it loosely so he wouldn't notice.
I leaned into him further and looked around one more time. There was my wife coming out of the bathroom and she was
watching us with a quizzical look on her face. I winked at her and then turned back to her boss.
"I used to be a nice guy." And with that I grabbed his tie firmly in my left hand and yanked down, smashing his face into the table, against her plate of cheese and crackers which exploded out from the impact.
Before he could recover I grabbed my own plate with my right hand and as his head bounced up off the table I swung my plate with all my force and hit him flat on the face, knocking him and the chair he was sitting in over and on to its back.
The room suddenly froze, stunned at what had happened. But I wasn't stunned. I was excited. My blood was pumping as I rose to my feet in front of the stunned heap that was laying on the floor before me. He was blinking his eyes trying to process the last few seconds. But I wasn't going to give him a chance to think through his actions. I needed commitment from him.
"Come on Stevie. On your feet." I motioned for him to get up. "I bet it's been a long time since you've hit someone hasn't it. Your hands look soft. Well it's been a long time since I hit someone too. So I'd say it's a fair fight." I raised my voice loud enough for the room to hear now that everyone had gone quiet and was watching what was happening. "I'm a wimp and you're going to fuck my wife and make me watch right? So let's see how that goes. Get up and take what you want. Let's see what you've got. Pussy."