No players are under 18. This story contains sexual acts outside of marriage. As with all other stories like this, feel free to slam it when you are shocked to find out the wife isn't 100% faithful. Warning, this is not a BTB story.
Jim Walker stood on the sidewalk, box in his hands wondering what he was going to tell Stacy. Not that it mattered as she'd react only one way, disappointed. For most couples, one of them being disappointed in the other was just another Tuesday, but Stacy's were epic.
Jim and Stacy met during their final years at Harvard, Jim with an MBA, Stacy with a law degree. She would have been well cast playing Athena, the Greek goddess of war as she was tall, fit, and naturally strong. On top of that, she was blessed with massive breasts that defied gravity and flared hips. Her mother commented more than once how God had made the perfect baby-making machine when he made her daughter. That always elicited an "Aw mom!" but with a pleased look on her face. She knew she was hot, knew men wanted her.
Jim was a good-looking man, at 6' just an inch taller than Stacy, but when she wore heels, he was much shorter. The one small difference was Stacy came from one of the Eastern families that owned much of Connecticut and Jim was from working-class south side Chicago. At school, they were inseparable and moved in together during their senior years.
Jim was surprised when Stacy said yes, though he had to sign a prenup. That wasn't an issue as she loved him and he loved her. She was immediately snapped up by the top firm in Chicago, Jim's search took longer, but was able to get a job with a midlevel dry goods company. Her parents were unhappy they moved to Chicago but at least it wasn't Pittsburgh.
Their life was initially great, with sex every day, vacations, evenings discussing their days, and getting together with Jim's high school friends. But then slowly things changed. Stacy's days went from 9-10 to 12-15 hours. Plus, Stacy didn't like Jim's friends, too rough. The unspoken message was they were too low-class. Then she was often too tired for sex or too preoccupied. Their love-making became less varied and less inventive. Jim's job was demanding and tiring as was Stacy's. It soon became a Saturday morning task each felt obligated the perform. The odd weeknight moments of passion occurred whenever the stars aligned.
Then there were their careers. Stacy had experienced regular raises, and Jim had been a solid asset but wasn't getting the promotions or raises and soon found his salary lagging farther behind Stacy's. That was when he first experienced being on the wrong end of her disappointment. She'd wanted to move up from their $1.5 million condo into one of the more exclusive penthouses on the north side but Jim's bonus didn't come through as promised. His company was going through an audit and all raises and bonuses were frozen. Their window to get in closed and they missed out. Stacy was disappointed in Jim, her attitude toward him cold. It was two weeks before she allowed him back in the bedroom and another week when she allowed him to lick her pussy. He got her off and she rolled over telling him he did well, but that was it. Finally, a full month after the disappointment, Jim was able to make love with his wife.
He'd never met any of her associates or the partners she worked for. All he knew was the youngest partner was in his mid-50s and the oldest was nearing 80. She'd acquired a mentor and she'd increasingly brought up his name in conversations.
"Conrad told me today I was the brightest associate he'd mentored. Conrad mentioned I'd be a partner by the time I'm 35. Come look in the driveway! Conrad got me a company car!" It was a nice car, Jim had to admit. A lot nicer that the Toyota Camry. A Mercedes EQS. He'd never even heard of it before, but it looked expensive. "Conrad said it was important to look successful when taking clients to lunch or dinner." Then there were the compliments, "Conrad told me he'd never seen anyone bring a pissed client onboard so fast; Conrad told me he wants to engage me in interviewing prospective clients as I seem to make them open up."
For the next few weeks, it was rare he ever saw the sleek Blue car in the garage but it was a great-looking car. His Passat didn't seem as nice to him and he was hoping Stacy would let him drive her car soon. On the other hand, due to the cost of parking, he mostly took the bus to work.
Today he'd climbed off the bus and was stopped by the guard at the front desk. "I need your laptop and badge," the man said uneasily. He had always been friendly with the guard staff, chatting with them and getting to know about them. He liked them perhaps more than his management team. He'd found his desk contents boxed and stacked in the lobby. Many other boxes were stacked in the corner and a few fellow workers were looking devastated. 30% of the white-collar employees were being let go after a massive shortfall in the company's offshore assets. If Stacy had frozen him out for a month because of the loss of his bonus, what would she do over the loss of his job?
He'd called his former high school buddy to come to get him not wanting to take the bus home carrying the box, and was looking at the traffic hoping he'd show up soon. If pitying glances were legal tender he'd be able to retire at 29. Finally, his friend pulled up.
"Dude! I cannot believe they fired you," Dave frowned as he watched his friend plop his crap on the back seat. After Jim got in, he pulled into traffic.
"Not fired, laid off," Jim sighed, "as if that matters. I need to find a job and soon. Stacy will kill me since even with my paychecks we've had little left over at the end of the month. I wish Stacy would not want to live in such luxury."
"I told you that bitch was high-maintenance," Dave sighed.
"She's not a bitch," Jim said softly.
"She's a bitch. Go on, call her on speaker phone. Tell her you lost your job. Any good woman would be sympathetic and supportive. She'll be freezing you out again. Hell, fuck that! Don't tell her you lost your job, just tell her you're hanging with me again. That will be a week in the guest bedroom alone. You married a princess, you have to pay the price that comes with it."
Jim looked out the window. Dave was right, Stacy hated his friends. Too boisterous, too blue-collar. She was a princess. She'd been pampered from birth. She had two maids growing up along with a nanny, then there were the cooks, gardeners, and drivers. He did most of the cooking as she couldn't even identify a spatula. His stomach hurt thinking how disappointed she'd be. He was thinking about all his contacts, all his fellow workers. Who might have something for him, something that might bring in income?
"What are you going to do?" Dave asked.
"No idea. You hiring at the yards?" he chuckled.
Dave laughed, "First of all, you'd die trying to move the stuff around, but then again, Stacy'd kill you before a pallet fell on you." He thought a minute, "Hang on. You do have a driver's license, don't you? Is it clean? Any traffic violations in the last year?"
"Sure, no, no tickets. Why? Need a truck driver?" Jim chuckled.
"No, my brother has a limo service and he's expanding. We could get you a chauffeur's license. These guys get paid well and get tips on top of it. You bring home some paychecks for a few weeks while looking for a company needing a manager."
