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Office Christmas Party Pt. 01

Story Info
An unknown friend clued him in.
16.4k words
4.44
153.1k
128

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 12/14/2019
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Farmers_Son
Farmers_Son
1,611 Followers

This is a two part story just because of its length. There is little sex so read at your own risk. There is the threat of gay sex because I believe that is the worst thing you can threaten a straight man with. Sorry if it bothers you. Hit the backspace if it turns you off too much to read a story that had good retribution for illicit sex. Thanks for reading.

The old cliché is that the husband is last to know when his wife is cheating. It probably isn't a cliché. If the husband was the first to know he could try and stop the stepping out and if he didn't care then it wouldn't be cheating then, would it?

What isn't true is that cheaters always get caught. A one-time affair might never be found out. But when a wife continues and cheats over and over the chance of getting caught gets greater and greater. There are many ways that finally gets her and most are probably by sheer coincidence. And sometimes a friend or acquaintance let the poor clueless husband in on the secret.

That was how I was clued in. I was at work one day on the loading dock when I got a phone call. It was an internal call since the caller ID only showed a four-digit number but the caller didn't identify himself. "Hey, man, is this Doug Fuller?" When I answered in the affirmative he continued. "Hey, man, you don't know me but some of the guys at work are porking your wife and are planning on doing her at the Christmas party."

Of course I didn't believe it. Joyce was a faithful and loving wife. I said as much. "Look, I don't know who you are but Joyce would never cheat on me. I think you are mistaken somehow."

I was about to hang up when he continued. "Your wife has those amazing tits doesn't she? I mean, those stand out tits that defy gravity and kind of look like torpedoes?"

I had to acknowledge that he was talking about my wife. She had an amazing pair of breasts that were kind of thin but stuck straight out and came to a point with the aureole covering the entire end of the breast and nipples that stuck out a full inch when aroused. She had to get special bras made that supported her magnificent breasts because she was convinced that gravity was going to make her unique gift become sagging breasts that would point at the floor instead of straight out as she aged.

She also did special exercises to keep the pectoral muscles strong and thus support her breasts and keep gravity at bay. She was a little thick in the middle but had a nicely rounded ass that drove me nuts and I suppose many other men. We were both forty and had two teen-aged girls and were looking forward to when we would be empty nesters again and be able to travel a little and just have fun with each other again. At least that was the plan until the phone call.

The anonymous caller took my silence to be a denial of his accusation. "I know this is straight out of left field but check on Mark Williams and Chuck Adams. They are the ones who brought me in on this. Their plan is to fuck your wife at the party. There are other things planned but you need to check it out for yourself."

He hung up then.

I immediately called to talk with Mark and was told he was in a conference with some of the other department managers. I wasn't surprised that I wasn't included even though I am the manager of shipping and receiving. Most of the other departments take me for granted and only acknowledge me when there is some kind of snafu that has to be rectified immediately.

Since I was at the warehouse, instead of at the main office, I use the internet to do meetings a lot. I logged onto the system and suddenly I was in the conference room looking at Mark, Chuck, Bill, and Ted. The monitor must have been off as they didn't seem to realize that I had activated the system. The microphone wasn't muted so I could hear everything.

Mark was obviously the leader of the meeting. "Joyce is all for a gang-bang here in the conference room during the Christmas party. She said that she will slip in here early after the banquet and take on all comers as long as Doug can't interfere or even find out what she is doing."

All of the guys were rubbing their hands in anticipation. Mark continued. "She has a couple of other requests though. She said that last year was a blast but was uncomfortable lying on the table while we fucked her. She wants some kind of mattress this year so she can be more comfortable while we make her air tight over and over."

Ted immediately responded that he had an air mattress that he could sneak in ahead of the party and have it blown up and ready for the fuck fest. The others made plans for bottled water and big jugs of lube to be put in the conference room in time.

I was barely listening after the comment about last year. I was trying to figure out how Joyce had managed to slip away from me for long enough to get gang fucked. I finally remembered that Mark had sent me over to the warehouse for some small item that we got for the C.E.O. for a Christmas present. I had been absent for over an hour and when I got back I was busy with other little things to do with the party and hadn't had any time to look for Joyce. How gullible could a guy be?

I must not have even been suspicious after she returned to me when we needed to leave. I suppose that we didn't make love that night as I had probably been very tired from all of the activities and the couple of drinks I usually consumed would have made me sleepy.

Some of their next comments brought me back to reality. Mark was taking the lead again. "Joyce also wants us to make sure that Doug is kept busy. Any ideas?"

They bull shitted for a while and Mark then took the lead again. "I have an idea that could make it so that we can fuck Joyce anytime we want. Why not give Dougie a date rape drug at the same time we are banging Joyce and let him be the centerpiece in his own gangbang? We could get pictures and video of him sucking cock and being ass fucked. After he recovers we could let him know about the pictures and threaten to put him on the internet if he tries to stop us from fucking Joyce anytime we want. Hell, maybe we will turn him gay and we will get to fuck her whenever we want and give him a good fucking at the same time."

Bill volunteered to talk to Jerome White, who worked in the mail room. He claimed that Jerome liked breaking in white boys and men and could probably come up with the drugs needed to subdue me. "I had anticipated that we needed to get Doug out of the way and it wouldn't be as easy as last year. I already talked with Jerome and he is willing to help out."

Chuck wanted to know how Bill knew that Jerome was into doing men. Bill looked a little embarrassed as he hemmed and hawed a little before stating he had heard rumors concerning Jerome. I filed that little tidbit away for future use. I was going to have to end my marriage to Joyce but these fuck heads weren't getting off scot free.

They kept talking about how they were going to gang fuck my wife and who should also be let in on the fun time. Chuck threw a curve into the conversation. "What about Lisa Priest? She has told me that she would like to have a shot at Joyce's fantastic tits."

Lisa Priest is an out-of-the closet lesbian who reportedly had an apartment with the second bedroom converted into a dungeon. Last year she came close to being fired after a new secretary came on board and then quit after a date with Lisa. The only reason that Lisa had kept her job was because the secretary had refused to talk with human resources.

Chuck went on. "Lisa told me that she would like to see Joyce become her slave and that she was sure that Joyce would look good with something like rings or bars in her outstanding nipples."

This made me ask myself when had Lisa seen Joyce's breasts in their natural form? I shook my head. There were so many questions and no immediate answers.

Bill was asking a question as I mentally asked questions. "I don't want to wait until the Christmas party for a shot at Joyce again. Is there any way we can get Doug out of town for a few days so that we can party with the whore?"

The others didn't know of any immediate way to get me out of the way for a few days but agreed that they would like to fuck Joyce before the party and then get to do her again at the party.

The meeting broke up when one of the secretaries came and informed Bill that he had an important client on the phone. Bill's last comment as he left the room was that Joyce could fuck some of the clients and make them all extra bonus money. I shut down the system and sat back heavily in my chair.

In the space of about 15 minutes I went from a clueless husband with a loving and faithful wife to being a cuckolded man with a slut for a wife. And apparently she had been hanging horns on me for some time. I tried and tried to think of something, anything at all, that would have made me suspicious of my wife of fifteen years. Since we had started dating back in college she had always been open and loving toward me. She had always been kind of touchy-feely with me since our first date. We had made love on our fifth date. She seemed to love it all, oral, anal, and straight sex. She even loved tit-fucking her magnificent torpedo tits. If I didn't put my cock between her tits and thrust away she would bend down and put her tits around my cock and then rub my shaft until I spurted on her face and my stomach. She would then lick up my spending and then give me a soulful kiss. At first I had resisted kissing her right after she had a mouthful of my sperm but she soon convinced me that it was the ultimate in sensuality to share our juices with each other. If I was sucking and licking on her pussy she would demand that I kiss her on the mouth so she could taste how good she was. I soon came to accept and even look forward to this expression of our love, as she put it.

After marriage and the kids nothing had changed except that her wonderful tits got a little thicker as she nursed. Then, not only did we swap sperm and vaginal juices, I would nurse at her perfect nipples and then share with her. We would laugh and play and make love after the girls were asleep. I even sound-proofed the bedroom so that Joyce's screams of pleasure would not disturb the girls.

Even this last year, while Joyce was fucking around on me, I didn't see any difference in how we interacted. From discussing our finances, our vacation, the girls and their boyfriends, our future and our love for each other it seemed that nothing was amiss. But now I knew that she had been fucking around on me for at least the last year and maybe longer.

I was faced with the age old cuckolded question, namely what to do with the knowledge. Do I divorce the bitch? Do I just accept that she still loves me and somehow needs to fuck around on me? Do I just quit having sex with her since she will one day bring home a nasty surprise? Do I accept and then join in with her activities? How do I explain her behavior to our two girls?

The list of questions went on and on. How could I afford an investigator to find out what I needed to know? We didn't have a lot of savings. Just like most couples we lived paycheck to paycheck. We both had 401(k) accounts with our respective employers and were saving for our retirements. There was a college education savings account to help Amy and Jamie, our daughters, go to school in a couple of years. There was equity built up in our house but we were thinking of putting in a pool in the backyard and that equity would pay for the pool.

If we divorced where would I live? From the comments of other men I knew that had gotten divorced the wife always got the best part of the deal, especially if there were children involved. I would have to figure in child support and, since I made more than Joyce, some kind of alimony. I wouldn't be able to afford a car or an apartment that would be worth a damn.

I didn't even know how much an attorney would cost to represent me. Then there was my job. How could I continue to work for this company when I would have to interact with these assholes on a routine basis, especially if they succeeded in compromising me? Where else could I get a job at age forty where I would make as much as my current position paid?

God, my head hurt and my stomach was queasy. Thankfully it was close to the end of the day. I clocked out and headed towards home. On the way I passed the large park and decided that I needed to take a walk. I got out and wandered around. Even though the weather was cool since it was early December there were couples seated on benches totally immersed in each other, kids were playing soccer, there were a few guys fishing in the large pond and there were even a few people flying kites in the light breeze. All in all a peaceful scene that just made me more depressed. Everyone but me looked so happy.

The walk did help my stomach a little. I didn't feel as though I was going to hurl at the slightest increase in being upset. My head still hurt as I had no clue how I was going to go forward from this. I can handle turmoil at work but in my private life I like the routine and mundane.

Soon I would have to go home and try to act as though everything was okay with my marriage. I had no evidence with which to accuse Joyce of playing around on me. If I went ahead and confronted her I would be out in the cold immediately. I had to come up with a plan and a way to protect myself.

I sat down on a bench and started a mental list. We had a few credit cards but they were close to the maximum at all times. Like I said we live pretty much paycheck to paycheck. There was a small savings account, what my old financial advisor called the "put and take" account. It had about a thousand dollars in it but was kind of our emergency fund. It would take only a small car repair or house repair and the account would be depleted and take months to build back up. Besides, we were planning on using that money to get Christmas presents for the girls. I couldn't take that money and deny them Christmas.

If we divorced the house would have to be sold at some point. I don't think either of us could keep up the payments if we lived separately. The girls loved the house, the neighborhood, and their school. Uprooting them could prove disastrous.

But something had to be done. As much as l loved Joyce she was a cheating slut and had to be punished somehow. Then there were the men whom she had fucked. At least the ones I knew about had to pay for disrespecting me and my marriage. Even if Joyce had thrown herself at them they made the choice to hang horns on me. Lisa Priest was another problem but she was skating on thin ice at work already. A simple complaint with evidence from me would get her out of the door without any recommendation.

I kept going back and forth from long term plans to the short term of how to act when I got home tonight. Should I go and get drunk as a skunk? If I got drunk and made it home would I spill the beans too early? Should I confront Joyce and kick her out of the house? Naw, she would get a lawyer and be back in twenty-four hours. Could I actually act as though nothing was wrong? Joyce had always been able to read me like a book. I don't think I could fool her for a moment. The way my head and gut felt, I couldn't act as though nothing was wrong for a full minute.

Maybe I could fake an illness. Should it be a short term bug or something serious like cancer? When would I have been diagnosed? Before this afternoon I had been feeling fine and dandy. No, cancer was out for right now. Maybe later if necessary I could use that ploy. So, I was stuck with a stomach flu.

I felt like an old man as I slowly stood. If one could age in a few minutes I was the living example. Instead of feeling a young forty years old I was feeling an old sixty. My joints ached and my muscles felt weak. I slowly made my way back to the car. I was only about ten blocks from home but it seemed miles away as I sat and contemplated some more.

I slowly made my way the final few blocks to my house. As I pulled into the driveway I looked at the house with new eyes. It was a three bedroom ranch style with a brick façade. There was a double car garage but only Joyce's car fit inside. The other half was used as storage so my old beater had to sit outside at all times. The girls weren't old enough to drive yet but in a few years I would have to add at least one vehicle to my fleet.

The shingles were good on the roof. The trim could use a coat of paint and the garage doors needed updating. The yard was in good shape but dormant now. I idly wondered how much it would bring if it sold. I suppose Joyce and the girls could downsize to a two bedroom house or apartment if necessary. The pool was out of the question right now.

I coasted to a stop and put the transmission into park. I sat and thought some more about my circumstances. I wanted a plausible reason to leave the house for a few days. I needed space to figure out what my first and then next move would be. I couldn't use a family emergency to leave as most of my family lived locally. I didn't travel for my job so I couldn't use that as an excuse. I could pick a fight with Joyce and move out but, like I said before, she had always been able to read me like a book and would probably figure out what I was upset about, not some trumped up reason.

I slowly got out of the car and headed into the house. I was a little later than normal. My time at the park had taken more time than I realized. Joyce called out from the kitchen to greet me. Amy and Jamie were doing their homework in the living room. They raised their heads and greeted me and then went back to work.

I could smell the cooking odors from the kitchen. Joyce was a great cook. Normally I would start to salivate but today the scents of supper just made me nauseated. My stomach lurched. It would not be denied now. I bounced off the walls of the hallway as I rushed to the bathroom and puked up whatever was left of my lunch. Thankfully I made it to the toilet bowl before losing it. God, how I hate to puke. My head hurt even worse after I was sick than before. My eyes burned also. I suppose I really wanted to cry but I couldn't yet.

Joyce was alerted by the girls that I didn't seem well so she came to the bathroom as I was washing my face. "Dear, are you not feeling good?"

I shook my head. "I have a severe headache and I just puked my guts up. I must have the flu."

She was immediately solicitous. "Maybe you should lie down. Why don't you get out of your clothes and hit the rack. I will fix you some soup and bring a soft drink that won't irritate your stomach."

I only nodded and went to the bedroom. I guess puking keeps slut wives from being suspicious. Not even a flicker of suspicion was evident in her demeanor or voice. I shucked off my clothes and crawled into bed.

Joyce came in a few minutes later and put a container next to the bed in case I needed to puke again. She felt my forehead and determined that I must not have a fever. She kissed me on the forehead and left me alone again.

My phone rang. I let it go to voicemail as I really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. I rested and tried to think of what I could do to stop Joyce from cheating on me anymore. I couldn't think of anything that was plausible. I even thought about killing them all but I didn't want to end up in jail or dead myself. Besides, killing was too quick and too easy of a punishment. I needed something that left them all alive but understanding what happens when you fuck with me.

Joyce brought me some chicken noodle soup. Normally when I am ill I want chicken noodle soup. Today I couldn't stomach the thought. I tried a couple of spoonfuls for her before setting it off to the side. "Baby, this is different than when you usually get the flu. What is it?" She had immediately sensed that I was different. Why couldn't I read her as well? Maybe I could have sensed when she started to feel she needed to stray from me.

Farmers_Son
Farmers_Son
1,611 Followers


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