This is a revision of my story first posted in 2003 called My Beautiful Wife
How is it possible for a dream to turn into a nightmare?
The Dream
I married my childhood sweetheart. Kathy was the only girl I ever wanted, in fact the only girl I ever dated. I would best describe her as a petite sexy blond. Her long honey blond hair framed her innocent looking little girl face. She was 20 years old when I married her but her big green eyes, the way she would often bite her lower lip, and the way she would giggle made her seem more like 15.
Every guy in college was after her, but she did not date much. Rumor had it that her two ex boyfriends had both raped her. She liked me because I was shy. I got goodnight kisses from her but she let me know she was not interested in sex until she married. Soon after I graduated and found a job we did marry. For five months I was living the American dream; I had a new wife, a new job, and a new house. Then disaster struck.
Nightmare One
The recession had struck suddenly and deeply. Only a month ago Kathy and I attended a Christmas party at my boss's place. All employees had received a Christmas bonus and to celebrate everyone was invited to the party, and brought their husbands or wives. That was my first mistake, letting my lecherous boss see my pretty wife. Frank was about 50 years old. He had been married and divorced twice. I liked my job, though Frank often made it more difficult with his arrogant demanding ways.
The night of the party he came to our table and after being introduced to Kathy spent a good part of the next hour dancing with her. I didn't mind that part because I don't care much for dancing and Kathy loves it. When he came again to get Kathy to dance she said, "It's my husband's turn." On the dance floor she told me my boss kept trying to feel her up and he talked dirty to her.
"What did he say?"
"During the last dance he said I would look good on my knees in front of him sucking him off. The previous dance he tried to get me to go to his bedroom with him. I know he is trying to seduce me."
I was angry but he is my boss, so I tell her to just refuse the next time he asks her to dance.
At the same table with us sat Charles, a co-worker hired about the same time as I, and his wife Diane. When Kathy refused my boss's next dance request, he got annoyed but went to Diane and asked her. "I hope you are not a stuck-up bitch like Kathy is?"
He was even more obnoxious with Charles' wife than he had been with mine; he would French kiss her and feel her ass through her miniskirt. We all had a lot to drink by this time but at one point he made her put her hand on his cock and held it tight while he jerked her hand up and down on his cock. The next dance he backed Diane against a wall and dry humped her. I couldn't stay quiet any longer.
"Don't you see what he is doing to your wife? How can you put up with that?"
"He is just having a good time, besides what can I do; he is my boss too you know." Maybe it was because they are both black that he thought he could get away with that. I had to admit though, that Diane was a young pretty black girl in her sexy white mini dress.
That was a month ago and now I was called into my boss's office. He told me that the recession was cutting into his profit so to reduce costs he had to let me or Charles go. The remaining one would have to pick up the slack. This would mean working every Saturday and 3 nights a week without any extra pay. I did not like the idea, but with the recession in full bloom my chances of getting a job elsewhere were small so I accepted and unfortunately so had Charles. Since we both had agreed to work overtime with no pay, Frank said he would give the job to whoever wanted it the most. His plan was for each of us to invite him to our home for dinner. As a bachelor, he liked pretty girls making a fuss over him, so each of our wives should wear something sexy and cook him a good dinner. Whoever showed the most appreciation would get the job. I did not like the sound of "something sexy" and neither did my wife but we agreed.
The night of the dinner he showed up a half-hour late and I could tell he had been drinking. Kathy did not wear a mini skirt as she said she did not want him feeling her up the way he did at the Christmas party. She did wear a blouse with the top two buttons undone and no bra so he could see her breasts when she bent over to serve him. He had a great time but Kathy and I were constantly embarrassed. He continually ogled her and made lewd slurping noises as he stared at her. He told me I should call him sir from now on to show some respect, and if he said kiss my ass I should say which cheek. He thought it was a funny joke, and I felt like telling him what he could do with his job, but I had a mortgage to pay and a new wife to look after.
After dinner he made Kathy sit on the love seat with him while we watched a porno movie he brought. I sat on the recliner chair on the other side of the living room near the kitchen. He said I should bring them drinks to show I was a good host. After my first trip to the kitchen I noticed he had turned off all the lights. The only light came from the TV. He called me boy and kept me running bringing them refills and snacks. It was like he was going out of the way to humiliate me in front of my wife.
It was worse for Kathy; since the lights were off it was extremely difficult to see but he may have been feeling up my wife. Every once in a while I would hear her say in her soft voice, "stop that" or "don't make me do that," but after a while I think she just gave up and let him do what he wanted. Later I heard him say, "Now that was good; that's the way I like you to show me respect." It was so dark I could not see what my wife did, nor was I sure I wanted to know. I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally left about eleven.
Kathy was mad. "How could you just sit there? He practically fucked me right in front of you and all you did was bring him liquor." That night I had to sleep in the guest bedroom.
Three days later I was called into his office once again. "I have made up my mind and you are history. You can't match the offer Diane and Charles gave me, so consider this your one week's notice and clean out your desk by Friday."
I started to panic. "But wait, you didn't even give us a chance to match their offer. I'm sure we would agree to whatever they did."
"OK, I'll give you one chance because I prefer white women to black. If you agree to everything they did the job is yours. You already know your part; work every Saturday and 3 nights a week with no extra pay. Kathy will come to my home every Friday afternoon, cook my dinner and have it ready for me when I get home from the office. After dinner she will act as hostess for my guests if I have any, otherwise she will be my maid. She will stay overnight at my place so she can get up early Saturday morning and clean my house, do my washing and ironing, make my breakfast and lunch and then she can go home sometime during the afternoon. That should not be a problem for you because you work every Saturday anyway.
That bastard; he was playing one couple off against the other. I did not think Kathy would go for it but I had to try, otherwise there goes my job, my house, and probably my wife as I would be a husband that could not support her. At first she flatly refused saying she would rather go back and live with her parents. I kept pleading with her saying, "I'll start looking for another job right away and as soon as I have a job offer I'll quit; probably won't take more than a month."
"So are you saying you don't mind him having sex with me?" she asked.
"He won't lay a hand on you. I'll make sure he understands that. You are there as a maid only."
"You are so naΓ―ve," Kathy sighed.
So I kept my job under the new circumstances. Three nights a week I worked until nine at night only to come home to a cold supper. Then Kathy suggested I eat out those nights. It was only later I found out she was cooking his meals those nights also. There were other changes in Kathy; she used to be perky and full of fun, now she seemed sad and withdrawn. It seamed like she was mad at me most of the time and our sex life went down the tubes. Saturdays used to be our big night. We often went out to dinner and a movie, but now she was getting home later and later, until one night it must have been after eleven and I could smell liquor on her breath.
I was annoyed. "What have you been doing that made you so late?"
That let out all the pent up anger she had been holding. "You are not worried about me; all you are worried about is your stupid job. Why else would you let your boss fuck me whenever he likes and make me do other degrading things? You are so clueless; why do you think I am not giving you any sex? Your boss wants to be the only one getting into my pussy. What do you think he does every Friday and now on about two other occasions during the week? It pleases him that he is fucking your wife while you work at his office for no pay.