Babs

Babs Ch. 01

A Not Love Story

I am not sure where to start about Barbara. I guess the most important thing, in the overall context, was that she was married to one of my employees. A direct report, no less. Which should have put her completely off limits to me. But the situation was much more complex than that.

Her husband of 12 years or so, Robert, was one of the top salesmen and sales managers at the small high tech manufacturing firm I ran. The company was getting larger, and Robert had closed some big accounts to help it grow. I must give credit where it is due. He had the ultimate never quit, never give up, always be closing kind of sales personality that winners at that game usually have. He was relentless and never let hearing “no” stop him from trying again. To him, “no” just meant he was closer to the ultimate yes. He also had some other “salesy” personality traits that were not so wonderful. He could not keep to a budget. You could not give him any authority or discretion to set pricing, or he would give away the farm to get a sale. He drank too much. He gambled too much, even though he was a lousy card player. At least he didn’t smoke.

I had gone to some gatherings at his house and watched him play cards. The law of large numbers evaded him, and 52 cards was too large a probability space for him to bother keeping track of. His favorite card game was hearts, and he tried to ‘shoot the moon’ every time, even when it was arithmetically impossible to do it, not just improbable or a bad wager. Most telling, he lost consistently and never once considered changing his style of play.

He never did the personnel reviews on his people on time. He never really talked to them, just filled out a form. But the real problem was that he chased a lot of skirts and did not pay enough attention to his wife Barbara, who was at home with two little girls. He was on the road a lot, more than he needed to be, which should have tipped me to the problem earlier. He even tried to score with females that reported directly to him, and with some married women who worked for our customers, although I didn’t learn about it until much later.

I had adapted to most of his problems, because he was a good producer, hitting sales targets and bringing in some impressive bluebirds from time to time. He could schmooze anyone and networked very effectively. But when he began to miss his numbers, I called him in for a talk.

“What’s going on Robert? Your prospecting is down, reorders are down, and sales are down, even though the industry as a whole is booming, you are getting all sorts of leads and referrals, and all the other guys are up. You usually lead the pack. What is it?”

He knew he couldn’t bluff me. He would usually talk about two deflections before telling me the real issue, but this time he was more direct. That worried me, and so did his answer. “It’s Barbara. Our relationship, that’s the problem!”

I hated this sort of stuff. My unusual best friend and fuck buddy, Sally McCord, was VP of HR at a big local firm and I could not imagine doing her job. Once my company got above 100 employees or so there was always some kind of drama going on: Illness, car crashes, dying relatives, kids arrested, affairs and/or divorces. All things that screwed up your business and you could not just fix.

I had met Sally at adult Sunday school, of all places. Right out of business school, I joined a local church for networking and community credibility. Never thought I’d meet a woman there. But Sally was all woman. At that point I was 24 and she was 40. I was a very junior new hire MBA at a fortune 500 company, and she was VP of an established local firm. There was something hot about her. She was bright, she had those eyes that moved around and took in everything, and her smile was an understated promise of good things to come. I asked her to go to lunch after church, and she surprised us both by agreeing to go. We connected immediately, age gap notwithstanding. I had never been in a serious relationship with a woman before. She had been widowed, and then remarried and divorced. I told her I wanted her at that first lunch. She looked skeptical but kept seeing me, and she eventually decided I meant it. She didn’t want to get married again, but she did want a booty call buddy, and she trained me to be exactly what she needed.

She taught me more about myself, and about women, than I ever thought possible. She was worldly and wise in ways I had never considered and knew about all sorts of stuff I didn’t. She also taught me how to please her, what most women want, and what most men don’t understand. When I had issues with people problems, she was the first person I went to for advice.

I thought my salesperson Robert should be more than happy with his wife Barbara. She was smart, smarter than he was. She taught middle school math before she had the kids. She was nice looking, with fair skin and dark brown hair, hazel eyes, in pretty good shape and yes, I was a sexist who objectified Barbara because she had a perfect pair of breasts. Ideal 36C at just the right perky attitude. To die for!

The most egotistical plastic surgeon (and I knew a couple) would just have to smile and admit they could do nothing to improve on them. They could just take the “after” picture and forget about surgery. They were that good. Make a mold and a bust, and other patients in the office would just point and say, “I want those.” You couldn’t help but look at them. When I first saw her in a bathing suit at a company picnic and realized her nipples were perfect, too, it almost hurt me to look at them.

My friend Sally the VP HR had a few rough and ready rules of thumb for hiring salespeople, and one was to never hire a sales guy whose wife is flat chested. Barbara could get Robert hired anywhere under than rule. At least Robert was consistent: all the women he chased had big knockers, too. But once he caught them, he tired of them. Robert and Barbara were both about ten years older than me, in their 30’s, so I guessed that maybe now he was tired of Barbara.

“Do you want a divorce, Robert?”

He looked panicked. “No! But I don’t want, I mean,…” He looked even more panicked, and frustrated.

“Come on Robert. I can’t help if I don’t know the problem. I won’t discuss this with anyone else unless you want me to, but I’ll try to help.”

He looked pained. He got up and closed my office door. “I’m really embarrassed. But I cannot stop thinking about it! I am obsessed with Barbara!”

“Well, good thing you married her! What’s the real problem?

“I have a recurring fantasy about her. One that I just can’t get out of my head!”

“A sexual fantasy? Why not tell her, or just do it?”

“I have told her, but I can’t do it!”

Now I was really confused. Maybe I should hire my own HR person, so I don’t have to deal with this shit.

“Well, why can’t you do it?”

He just looked pained. I had an idea. Every porno I had ever watched had at least one lesbian scene to get the guys excited. “Do you want to see her with another woman?”

His expression brightened a little. Maybe he was about to tell me what he really wanted.

……

My friend Sally McCord had a stockpile of life experiences I could never imagine, and she had dealt with people problems at a company much larger than mine every day for almost as long as I had been alive, so she spotted things immediately that it took me a long time to recognize. She must have realized I loved her even before I told her, but she didn’t want to hear it. “I’m too old for that, Adam. I’ve got a young stud who does me just like I want it whenever I let him, never gossips, and never asks to borrow money. I’ve got it all!”

She wasn’t too old to love, because I did. She wasn’t a beautiful woman to look at, but when she had worn me out in bed for two hours, sweat dripping from her brow, and her salt and pepper hair was plastered to her head, she was the most beautiful woman I had even seen. She would shiver when I would lick her sweaty armpits and tell her how sexy she was. She cleaned up very well, and always dressed perfectly.

Every time she let down her guard and told me about something in her past life, I was amazed. She had been through a lot and came through stronger. I wanted her more than two or three nights a month, but that’s what she kept to. I would take her whenever I could get her. When we were together, she would do anything for me in bed, and she was delightfully shameless when she wanted something.

About the sixth time we spent the night together, she asked me why I hadn’t tried to take her ass. I said I had thought about it, but I never done it, and had read that only about 30% of women like it. So, I just didn’t try.

She laughed, and took my head in her hands, looked me right in the eye, and said “I am in that 30%, Adam, and I’m going to teach how to do it just the way I like it!” She taught me how to kiss her ass, work up to it, and start slow and easy and not get too forceful. When she came that way, her whole body shook through her ass and around my cock and I was hooked on it. When I came in her she cried and hugged me.

Then she got talkative. “Ass fucking is not really about sex, you know, Adam? ”

“It sure seemed sexy to me!”

“It’s really about territory. Dominance and submission. I gave up my ass to you and you took it! It means I trust you; I am willing to be open and submissive to you. That’s a big deal. Even women that don’t get off from it erotically know the significance of it. Sometimes they respond emotionally to the surrender more than the sex. It’s a bonding ritual. It means you are special to me; that now you own part of me.”

“I’m honored, plus its hot the way you shake when I tongue it! And I want your all, Sally, not just that.”

She laughed. “I know, and you’ve got me, at least everything I have to give at this juncture.”

……

“So, is that it, Robert? You want to see her get down with another chick while you watch?”

“No! I want to see her with another guy!”

“You mean like a threesome, you and her and another guy?”

“No! I just want to watch her! It’s all I think about. It’s the only way I can get hard anymore is to envision her getting off with another guy banging away at her.” He sobbed. “I’m embarrassed, but I can’t pretend anymore!”

I almost panicked. I did not have any idea how to handle this! Stall and get more information. That’s all I could think of.

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Almost two years.”

“When did you tell her?”

“About three months ago.” Exactly when his sales numbers began to fall off.

“What did you say to her?”

He looked like his dog had died. “At first I made little comments to her about other guys looking at her. At least half the guys who see her look at her chest funny.” Including me, I knew. “I told her it made me excited to have such a good-looking wife. It made her a little hot too, and we would end up having a better sex that night.”

“So that was good?”

“Yeah, but soon it didn’t get me going anymore. I needed more stimulation, so I started saying things like the bagger from the grocery store wants to suck on your nipples. That got me hot again, but she didn’t really like it. But she still wanted me to make it with her. Then I needed her to talk about other guys doing her. That got me the hardest. Once she described a guy at her gym who she thought wanted to fondle her butt, and I nearly came without being touched!” Wow, Robert! Too much information!

He looked funny. “But now, I need her to really do it. She says she is thinking about it. I am on pins and needles all the time. If she says no, I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“If she says yes, will you be happy?”

“Not until she really does it and lets me watch!”

“Robert, let me think about all this, and I’ll get back in touch on Monday. Okay? In the meantime, try to concentrate on your job!”

He looked downtrodden. “What choice do I have?”

I was not optimistic.

……

Luckily, I was having dinner with Sally McCord that night and staying over. My favorite kind of weekend. Did I mention she could cook, too? After dinner, she told me about having to hire a bunch of new people quickly and the pressure to get the right people without rushing into a hire.

I commiserated on HR issues. “I may have to replace my best sales guy! Marital problems. Weird marital problems!”

“I have seen them all, including a married executive who chased a single girl who turned out the be a tranny. When he found out he had a breakdown. Weirder than that?”

“Well, competitive, anyway. Sworn to secrecy and all, right?”

“Do you really have to ask, Adam?”

“No, I trust you. This guy says he is obsessed about watching another guy bang his wife. He cannot get excited unless he thinks about it or she talks about it! He has even asked her to really do it and let him watch.”

Sally looked sad, incredibly sad. “What is it Sally?”

She drew in a slow breath. “I am going to have to tell you another one of my dingy life stories, Adam. I hope it doesn’t freak you out.”

“You know I love you no matter what, Sally.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I don’t love myself.”

She sat up straight and folded her arms across her chest. Defensive body language.

“My first husband developed the cuckold disease too, about a year before he got sick and died.”

“I thought that was when one bird laid their eggs in another bird’s nest?”

“In freshman biology class, that would be right. In the real modern world, it is about sex. Well, really about dominance and submission, with sex as the medium of exchange.”

“Okay. Should I refill our glasses and get ready to listen?”

“Please.” I poured out the rest of the wine, most of it into her glass.

“I loved my first husband totally and completely. I would do anything for him. Our first few years together were great. But when he got past thirty, something changed. Inside him, I mean. He lost his edge. He went from a hard charger to just getting by.”

I was afraid that is what Robert’s numbers over the last 90 days reflected. “My guy has gone from top dog salesman to middle of the pack.”

She nodded. “I thought he might be sick, but we got a complete checkup. He was fine, medically anyway. All it accomplished was getting some good baseline data for his treatment after he developed cancer later.” She looked incredibly sad, as sad as I have ever seen her. I put an arm around her.

“I kept asking my husband what was bothering him. He had always been open and honest with me, but I could tell he was deflecting, covering up something. Finally, I told him we could handle anything together, but he had to tell me the truth!”

“In the end, I was sorry I said that. The truth was, like your guy, he was obsessed about seeing me with other men. He was still functioning in bed, but not like before, and he was always talking to me about guys flirting with me or looking at my ass. That was what got him really hard. It got weird. We started going out to bars and he would make me sit alone and he would sit at a booth nearby and watch guys hit on me. After two or three did without success, he would come pretend to pick me up and we would go home and fuck. I couldn’t call it making love anymore.”

I had never seen her so bitter.

“It got worse. He wanted me to pick one and go out to the guy’s car and make out so he could watch through the window. I refused. He begged. It was pitiful. I couldn’t stand to see him like that!”

She began to cry.

“I tried to shock him out of it, with heavy irony. I asked him if he wanted me to put ads in Craig’s list, before they shut those kind of ads down, as a lonely wife looking for a new black thug stud every weekend, so I could meet them at Motel Six and he could video the whole thing and then clean me out with his mouth after the guy left. He lit up like a kid on Christmas morning and said I was his dream wife!”

She shuddered like when you have chills from the flu. “That’s when I knew I could never respect him again. I remember thinking at the time that he had an incurable sexual disease and the best I could do was humor him. Thank God we did not have kids. That was six months before we learned he had cancer.”

She buried her head in my neck and shoulder and cried hard. “I talked to a psychiatrist. He referred me to a colleague that specialized in sexual problems. She gave me the proper disclaimer that she had not met my husband and could only talk in generalities, but she painted an ugly picture of our future. He was not going to just magically get over this. If anything, his drives would become more extreme. He would likely withdraw from having sex with me entirely and become a voyeur only. He might begin to crave humiliation as a substitute for sexual excitement. I was young and stupid and still sort of loved him, still thought I should try to compromise and help him. I asked her what would work. She said professionally her advice was to leave him this afternoon and file for divorce, but if I would not do that, and speaking strictly as one woman to another, I could get a bull.”

I knew Sally didn’t mean start a cattle ranch. I just waited for her to go on.

“She said I could find a man to have an ongoing sexual relationship with, who could satisfy me sexually, because my husband could not anymore, and who would be willing to let my husband watch us have sex. Not a love affair, not even just a casual fling with someone nice, but just pure fucking. That way my husband got to watch, I got some satisfaction, we kept up the appearances of a marriage otherwise, and I took much lower risks than with a parade of strangers. I asked her how to find a man like that, and what kind of man I should look for. She laughed. She asked me if I had ever heard the expression ‘young, dumb, and full of come’ before. I had. She said I should find a young guy, maybe a junior college guy, who was not that bright and perhaps not charming enough to get many girls his age, and train him to fuck me the way I liked it. Make it clear he could not have other girls, just be with me. The tough part was apparently getting him to be okay with my husband watching.”

“I told my husband what I was willing to do. I told him I could not be with a parade of strange men. At best I would get an STD and at worst I would end up strangled in some motel room. But what I could do was find one steady bull. He was overjoyed. He wanted to help me look for the guy! That drove a dagger through what was left of my heart. I told him I would decide, and he could either watch or not, but that was his only choice. He said he loved me so much more now. My heart was truly filled with rage.”

“I cruised the junior colleges like some kind of driven deviant. I flirted with a dozen guys. Most of them were too nice. I was determined to get myself fucked in a truly low and degrading way, punishing myself for my poor choice of husbands. I finally found the right guy. He even looked like a bull. Heavy eyebrow ridges over eyes set a little too close together, a lopsided chin, big ears, a broad back, and a narrow ass. He even turned out to have a bigger dick than my husband, and an IQ of 90 on his best day. With even a hint of feminine wiles, I could manipulate him like a wind-up sex toy. He was panting with excitement by the time I told him about my husband wanting to watch. It didn’t bother him at all. It might have turned him on a little.”

“I hated my husband. I hated my bull. I used one to humiliate and degrade the other. They both enjoyed it immensely. I did not. It was a post Freudian nightmare. My bull came over every Friday afternoon. My husband called it ‘date night’ and he was like a giddy girlfriend contemplating my bull’s arrival. First, I would help the idiot with his junior college homework, otherwise he would have never passed any classes. He was truly a bull at heart. He pounded away at me, finally making me come through sheer mechanical repetition. My husband made more noise than I did, and he came too, touching himself.”

“Those six months were the worst in my life so far. My husband was giddy with excitement; I was hot on the outside and ice cold on the inside. My bull was like a preening peacock, his confidence and bravado growing. We kept cheap beer in the fridge for him. After he had a couple of shots into me, he would get drunk and pass out on our couch. He would get up and leave about noon Saturday. My husband would go down on me as soon as he left. I was in hell.”

“When I found out my husband had cancer, I was not sad. I was guilty about it. I was guilty about every breath I took in those days. I told the bull we had to stop. At first, he didn’t want to, but when I told him that I appreciated his support, but I was afraid he ‘might get dick cancer’ if he kept screwing me, he walked away and never looked back. My husband went downhill fast. I played the devoted wife until he died.”

She cried onto my shoulder until my shirt was soaked. What could I say to that? I just waited her out.

“What are you going to do about your guy, Adam?”

“The safe thing to do is to document his drop in performance and our conversation about it in a memo that he receives and refer him to the family counselors that are available under our flexible benefits plan. I will do both, but I know they won’t help.”

“Then I suppose my official duty to the shareholders is to try to get him back to his previous performance level. If he stays where he is, I will keep him on, because of all his history and relationships with existing customers. If he drops any further, I have to replace him.” I sighed. “I suppose I should not expect him to just give up on this and return to his old self, huh?”

“No. I think he will get worse unless his wife does what he wants. Many couples reach an arrangement, like I did with my husband, and the guy can function well again for years, if the wife can stand it that long. If my husband hadn’t developed cancer, who knows how long we would have gone on? The psychiatrist told me that some women thrive in that kind of arrangement. They get all the normal economic benefits of marriage, plus some wild sex, and their husband encourages it, if he gets to watch. Eventually he will get worse, though. What do you think you should do from a moral point of view, Adam?”

“That’s tougher. They have two girls, nine and eleven.”

“Oh damn! Terrible ages for a divorce. ”

“Are there any good ones? I suppose for them it would be best to hold the marriage together with duct tape or something and keep the problems from boiling over until after the girls go off to college. I just don’t know how to do that.”

“Will you talk to the wife?”

“Not unless he asks me to. What the hell would I say to her?”

“Tell me, Adam, is the wife attractive?”

“Yeah, she’s a babe. She won’t have any trouble attracting a bull if she wants to.”

Sally McCord give me a funny look. We went out Saturday afternoon for a hike. It was a nice day with a nice breeze, and I forgot about my troubles for a while.

We were almost back to Sally’s place when a text came in, from Robert’s wife Barbara. “Sorry to contact you on a weekend but urgent we talk about Robert. Can we meet after church Sunday around noon? Robert is not going. Kids are at my mom’s. Please?”

I showed it to Sally. “That’s not good, Adam! I need to go with you.”

“So that you can tell her your life story?”

“Even if I don’t talk, you need a witness, bucko! You do not want to talk to her about this alone. Talk about a slippery slope! That’s an HR nightmare and a plaintiff attorney’s dream.”

“Okay, I get it. I guess we should go to church, too.”

She tickled me. “Maybe I can meet another hot guy!”

I hugged her. “I hope not. I just want you to see me more often.”

The sermon at our church on Sunday was about the golden rule. Sodom and Gomorrah might have been more appropriate, at least in my mind. We met Barbara at a local diner not far from her church. Barbara looked panicked when she saw Sally. I rushed to explain.

“Barbara, this is Sally McCord. She is a friend and much more experienced in personnel matters than I. We are too small to have a real HR manager yet, so Sally is our consultant. She will keep everything you say private. If you want, you can talk to her alone and she will keep what you say private.”

Barbara seemed to settle down. “What have you told Sally so far?”

“Just that there are marital issues, and that you have two young girls to think about.”

Barbara looked determined. “I have never even thought about something like this before, but I have to prioritize what is best for my girls. My parents split when I was 12 and I think it permanently damaged me. We must find a way to avoid that. Robert is great with the girls and they adore him, but we can’t let any of this touch them!”

I know I looked helpless. Sally shooed me away with her eyes, so I said, “Barbara, I’m going to let you and Sally talk for a while. I will be back in 30 minutes or so. If you need me sooner just text me, Sally.”

I took a long walk around the block, ostensibly to think, but I came up with zero good ideas. I could not identify with Robert, and I could see how much the whole subject had hurt Sally — the pain was clearly visible years later. I couldn’t read Barbara at all.

After my first circuit of the block, I looked in through the window to see Barbara crying and Sally talking earnestly to her. The next time around, Barbara looked determined, and Sally looked shaken. On the third circuit, they both looked truly angry. I still had a few minutes to go, but Sally texted me to come in. She still looked shaken, but Barbara was almost smiling. Maybe it was more properly called a grimace.

“Adam and I will have to talk about this, Barbara. Let’s not say anything to Robert or anyone else until we all talk it all thorough again, okay?” Barbara headed for her car.

I looked at Sally expectantly. She shook her head. “Is there a bar that opens early on Sunday, Adam? I am going to need a several stiff pops to even start talking through all this.”

A search on my phone popped up a long-standing neighborhood dive bar near the lake that opened at noon on Sunday and called itself a cabaret, but there was no stage show, at least not on Sunday. But the crowd was a pretty bizarre show all by themselves, even this early. We sat in a corner booth way in the back. Nobody noticed us, and we were certainly not going to see anybody we knew here. I knew the situation was serous, though, because Sally came back from the cash register with a whole bottle of lemon vodka and two glasses. I resigned myself to a long discussion. I would try to nurse my drinks so I could drive home. Sally had no such restrictions, and she downed three shots before she said anything.

“Barbara is a real trip, Adam! How much time have you spent with them?”

“Not much. A couple of evening gatherings at their house where everyone played cards. Robert is terrible at it. One birthday party for one of their girls, and a couple of company picnics. Always Robert and Barbara together. Robert always dominates the conversation. He’s a salesman after all. Barbara usually barely has anything to say.”

Sally slammed another shot. Wow!

“Well, she certainly got over that. She had plenty to say. She knows exactly what she wants to do, too!”

I just waited. Sally gulped. “I guess I better tell you in an organized fashion before I lose any more brain cells! First, she wants to stay together with Robert until the youngest girl goes off to college, so maybe nine more years, then she is going to dump him like a bad habit! Second, she is going to take up with a bull, but she will not let Robert watch unless he gets his sales numbers back up. Otherwise, she does the bull behind closed doors and Robert just has to guess what happened. Third, he does not get to touch her between bull visits, even if he makes his numbers. She’s a very determined woman!”

I shook my head. “She sounds pretty decisive all right, but that’s probably what’s best for the kids. It might work. That may be what it takes to motivate him now. Plus, we have a matching section 529 plan in our benefits package, so if they put all of his commission money toward that plan instead of spending it on crap like they have been doing, they could get pretty close to paying for a state school for both girls.”

Sally laughed. “That’s the fourth condition. She gets exclusive control of all their money!”

“Good for her! He tends to bust any budget. I knew Barbara was smart. She used to teach math; you know?”

“You haven’t heard the best part yet! She wants to give you a legal release from both of them acknowledging their unusual marriage situation and agreeing to all these conditions and promising never to sue you or the company over any of this, no matter what happens!”

“Whew! I was worried about the legal problem of just talking about a deal like this.”

“So, you like the idea of such a release?”

“Yeah, that’s great! What’s not to like about eliminating a huge potential liability? It’s a hell of an agreement to have to draw up, though. Know a good family law attorney?”

“Several, but guess what her fifth condition is?”

I had no real idea. “Public humiliation for Robert?”

Sally laughed heartily, I did not like the sound of it. “No, private humiliation only!”

“What do you mean?”

“The only bull she will accept is you, Adam!”

I took two shots immediately! If we ever left here, it would be in an Uber.

“How the fuck could that work?”

Sally looked at me funny. “Actually, I think fucking her is the only thing that will work. I think you should do it!”

“Can you tell me why?”

By the time we finished the bottle, I could almost rationalize it, given that my drunken self could admit I had wanted to fuck Barbara all along. But the rational business guy part of my brain kept saying “Danger!”

Sally was in her consigliere mode. “Because that’s the only way to not get sued. Without such an agreement, it could go sideways any time and she could get any of those big law firms with 5o lawyers and the 800 numbers to make your life hell for several years, even if you don’t bull her, and even if you eventually won!”

By the time they threw us out of the bar, that part of me that paid the legal bills was still not convinced. But my drunk dick liked the idea.

……

Sally set a meeting with her favorite ball busting family attorney. He knew all the smarmy tactics, so she reasoned he could write a release that blunted most of them. On the way up to his office, she gave me a brief on John Thaddeus Barlow, Esquire.

“He is smooth and mannerly, but don’t let that fool you. He would gladly cut your balls off and nail them to his wall for a trophy if he were representing Barbara and Robert. He will look for all the potential ways he would attack and destroy you if they hired him, and then try to write the agreement to prevent every such tactic.”

We were ushered into a conference room. Dark suit, blue tie, horn rim glasses, long grey hair, and Hannibal Lecter eyes.

“Hello Sally. Nice to meet you, too, Adam. Based on what Sally told me, I started with the fictional contract from Fifty Shades of Grey and expanded on it. Sally said you must treat Barbara, and by extension Robert, in some of the most degrading and humiliating ways ever devised, and make it clear they asked for it and agreed to everything beforehand.”

I looked at the draft copies he gave us. “Jesus!” I was shocked. “I am not planning to piss on either one of them, or make them eat shit, or half of this stuff!’

He chuckled. “That’s why it’s in there. To show that you were moderate and did not entertain all their wicked desires. You also must explain all this explicitly and get them to verbally agree to all this before they sign the contract. We will do video and transcribed depositions to that effect, which hopefully will vaccinate them against ever wanting any of this to come out. I am really enjoying this, by the way!”

Maybe I should do your wife too, huh, ass hat? He didn’t decode my expression and kept smiling.

“Sally has explained that there needs to be a ‘ceremonial handoff’ in their bedroom before you consummate this new lifestyle, but unfortunately we don’t think it is advisable to capture that on video. But can you give me an idea of what will happen? We must make it so memorable that they cannot pretend it didn’t occur.”

Sally gave an evil laugh. Barlow looked excited. This was a new practice area he might really enjoy!

“Well, JT, being a tough and proper bull, Adam should make Robert undress Barbara for him and offer her up, verbally and symbolically surrendering his rights to her. There should be a little speech about “you can’t un-ring this bell” or “a whole new reality”. An aggressive bull might have the husband hold the wife’s head while he penetrates her mouth or hold her legs open while the bull enters her. The real enthusiasts like it when the bull makes them grab the bull’s penis and actually insert it into their wife or makes them serve as a floor mat that the wife lays on while the bull mounts her.”

JT Barlow was about to come. “I understand! Wow! My office will contact you when we have set up the appointment for the video depositions, and after your first encounter, I want a written memo from you documenting what happened. You should also keep calendar entries that log each time you visit her and document his sales performance completely. Anything else?”

I felt like I needed a shower, but my cock was hard. Sally grabbed it in the elevator. “That’s good, Adam. You can’t be Mister Nice Guy. It has got to be brutal and unmistakable for them. A complete change of habit, so it will be at the same time the most exciting and the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to them. You have to get in touch with your darkest and most dominant side and let it run wild each time you see her. And counsel him weekly on his sales efforts and results. I would offload his office overheard and supervisory stuff and drive him back to be the efficient pure sales guy he used to be.”

After we got down to the car, I asked “Can I stay with you tonight, Sally?”

She grinned. “On a weeknight, Adam?”

“Didn’t you just say a complete change of habit?”

“Okay but tell me why!”

“If I am going to be mean bull all the time with her, I need some balance, some tenderness with you!”

“Very good grasshopper!” she said in a fake Chinese accent.

“Not more of this your older woman as Kung Fu mentor to my young man shit!”

“Exactly, and your most important lesson yet. Listen up! Barbara, like any woman, needs several things from a man. First, she needs to just be fucked like an animal sometimes, just because she is a female animal, and he is a male animal. Robert can’t do that for her anymore. Second, she needs a man she can trust and rely on. Robert blew that by chasing other skirts behind her back. Third, she needs a lover that genuinely wants to learn what she likes and please her and hold her and just be there. Robert is now only thinking of himself, not pleasing her. Fourth, she needs a friend she can trust and be childish with and goof off with. Robert is being the selfish child in their relationship now, using up all that energy, so there is none of that for her. You had portfolio theory in b-school, right, efficient frontier and all that?”

“Yes. So what?”

“If Barbara can’t get what she has to have from one man, she will put together a portfolio that works, with more than one man. You can be her bull, if Robert improves his performance at work maybe she can rely on him again economically again, et cetera.”

“Okay now I get it, Obie Wan!”

“Now extend your new knowledge to me, Luke!”

I thought for a minute. “You don’t want me to just be tender, you also want a bull sometimes!”

She grabbed my crotch in confirmation. “All this nasty talk got me hot. I need you to use the force on me!”

As soon as we got to her place, I did. Consider it practice work for doing Barbara later. I had to remember that at Barbara and Robert’s house, things were reversed, and that allowing Robert to witness and even clean up after some of my acts would be a reward, not a punishment.

……

It took two weeks for JT Barlow to set it all up. But it was now videotaped, signed, sealed, and delivered. Barbara’s pussy, mouth, and ass were mine to use as I pleased whenever I was with her. And when I was there, Robert was to obey my commands, too. Barbara had complete control of their money, but I had complete control of Barbara’s body. I made Tuesday night our ‘regular night’ because I got an accounting update, including the sales numbers, every Tuesday morning. Barbara had arranged for her mom to pick the girls up at school Tuesday afternoons and keep them all night, taking them to school Wednesday mornings. I wonder what she told her mom. Date night? This first Tuesday was going to be an interesting start for us all, I suspected.

Sally had given me a pep talk. Remember that humiliating Robert is a reward for both. Barbara likes to see him punished, but the bull demeaning him in front of Barbara turns him on. Do not give him a reward until he does something good, like improving his sales numbers. But I would have to humiliate them both tonight to make the nature of our new relationship clear to all of us. I had rehearsed everything it in my head, but I knew I would have to react and adapt to them. Sally’s final advice: “Listen to your nasty side. If you can’t enjoy this, you can’t do what is needed.”

When I arrived, they were sitting together on the couch, just like the last time I was there to play cards. It seemed surreal. I knew I had to set the tone.

“Let’s move to the bedroom. You both are about to experience some of the most intense emotions you have ever felt, and from this moment on things are going to be vastly different.”

I had never seen their bedroom before. There was a king-sized bed with a big, upholstered headboard, and lots of throw pillows, the curtains were drawn, and there was a stuffed chair in the corner nearest the bathroom that looked out of place. It was not good feng shui, but it was well positioned for Robert to see the bed. Robert stood awkwardly between the bed and the chair, uncertain as to what he should do.

“Sit on the corner of the bed, Robert. You are going to help get your wife ready for me.” He sat, looking extremely uncomfortable. It would get much worse.

“Barbara, sit next to Robert. From now on, I am going to call you Babs. That is your slut name, and you are now my slut. When you hear the name Babs, you need to automatically open your legs, lick your lips, and leave all your inhibitions behind, because your sole purpose in life on these nights to please and amuse me. I will use you shamelessly, and you will enjoy it. It is what you have wanted for years and never had. Robert, you are going to see what your wife is capable of, given the proper treatment. You will never forget it.”

“Robert, go over to that upholstered chair, and strip, and leave your clothes on the floor.” He looked extremely uncomfortable as Barbara and I watched. He looked very embarrassed but excited. He couldn’t even decide whether to sit down or stand. This was just the beginning.

“Babs go over to your husband! Robert, strip and display your wife for me!”

The way they looked at each other was indescribable. Barbara was embarrassed, but Robert was getting hard. She hated that. She hated him, even more than me. He took off her clothes almost lovingly. Like undressing her for me was more exciting than doing it for himself. I realized that for him it was!

Her breasts were incredible! I was enchanted. A little extra on her hips these days, but still nice. Her brown bush was long and abundant. Her nipples betrayed her. She didn’t hate this, did she? Neither did I.