Ron Wiseman was anxious to get home to Amy, his lovely wife of 10 years. Not only was she a beautiful woman who kept herself in great shape, she was a fantastic cook and the best lover a man could ever want.

The day before, Amy said she would like to invite her new boss, Mike Armstrong, to the house for dinner. According to her, he wanted to meet her husband and get a feel for her family environment. Ron saw no harm in that and said he would like to meet her new boss, especially since the last two men who held that position didn’t last very long and left under somewhat mysterious circumstances.

The most recent man who held that position left after just a few months on the job, claiming he needed to take a lengthy sabbatical in Sri Lanka to “find himself,” and the man before him was found decapitated in his garage, his hands tied behind his back. Police ruled it a suicide, but his genitals – which had been surgically removed – were never found.

Ron noticed the time and sent a text to his wife before locking his office, letting her know that he was on his way. Her reply came instantly.

“C U soon. Love U!”

Ron bid his secretary farewell and headed home, stopping long enough to get a bouquet of roses for his wife. He loved doing things like that to surprise her and she loved getting his gifts of love. She also enjoyed thanking him for his little gifts.

Ron pulled into his driveway, noticing the black Mercedes by the curb in front of his house. At least the man thought enough to stay out of my driveway, Ron thought.

He went into the house and saw a well-dressed man in his late forties sitting on his couch. Ron sized him up. He was fairly tall, appeared well-built with a touch of gray at his temples. He was clean-shaven and appeared to have one of those perpetual smirks on his face. He stood up with a crooked smile on his face as Ron stepped into the room and offered his hand. Ron accepted before excusing himself.

He went into the kitchen and handed Amy the bouquet before taking her in his arms. Her face lit up as she accepted the flowers.

“I’ll have to properly thank you for these later,” she whispered. Ron kissed his wife’s pretty face, his hand on her ass. “Now, be a good host and go say hello to Mike,” she said. Ron kissed her again and went back into the front room. He went to his liquor cabinet and offered Mike a shot of whiskey, which he accepted.

The two men sat in the front room after Ron poured the liquor.

“That’s quite a wife you have there,” Mike said, his sideways smile becoming more pronounced.

“I have to agree,” Ron said. “She’s my reason for living.”

“Then I guess you’ll understand why I’m about to tell you what I’m going to do,” Mike said.

“Really?” Ron asked. “What’s that?”

“I’m going to fuck your pretty wife,” Mike said. “She’s going to love it and you’re going to watch.”

“Hold that thought for just a second,” Ron said. “I’ll be right back.” He went into the kitchen.

“I’m going to show Mike around a bit,” he said. “We’ll be right back.” Amy gave him a knowing look.

“Don’t be too long, dear,” she said. “Dinner will be done in about 15 or 20 minutes.”

“Perfect,” Ron said. He went back into the front room.

“You didn’t tell your wife what I said, I hope,” Mike said. Ron shook his head.

“No, no,” Ron said. “Let’s step into my cave, shall we,” he said, motioning for Mike to follow him. Mike got up and followed Ron into his office, also known as his personal “man-cave.” Mike looked around at what was on the walls.

In addition to photographs, there were a number of official commendations, medals, knives and guns mounted on the wall, along with several swords.

“So, you intend to fuck my wife, do you?” Ron asked. Mike nodded his head.

“Yes, I do,” he said, smirking. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“I take it my wife never told you about me,” Ron said.

“She tells me you’re an accountant who does research for some kind of special task force,” he said.

“Yes,” Ron said, “it’s true that I’m a certified accountant and yes, I do work for a combined federal-private task force. But I wasn’t always an accountant.”

“Oh?” Mike said. Ron pointed at the items on the wall.

“I used to be in the military, you know. During that time, I was a scout-sniper,” Ron said. “Most of my 150 confirmed sniper kills were in the 300 – 600 yard range, but I have successfully taken out targets as far as 1,200 yards. That’s more than half a mile and at that distance, you’ll never hear the shot. One second, you’re alive and breathing, and the next, you’re dead.” He opened a drawer and ran his hands over his collection of knives. Mike wasn’t very comfortable by now and became even less comfortable as Ron pulled out one very large knife.

“I’m also quite comfortable with close-in kills,” he said, holding the sharp blade so Mike could see it. “There’s nothing quite like seeing your enemy take his last breath up close and personal.” Mike’s face turned white and the smirk disappeared.

“Look, Ron, this isn’t personal,” Mike stammered.

“Oh, but it is, Mike,” Ron said. “You just told me you were going to fuck my wife and you expect me to watch. That makes it very personal to me. I just want you to know what it is you’re risking. You see, I believe in the old saying that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. You understand, I’m sure.” He looked at his watch.

“Oh, I think dinner is just about ready. We’d better get back,” he said. Mike nodded his head and watched in horror as Ron threw the knife at a thick target on the far wall. The knife hit dead center before burying itself halfway to the hilt. “I like to keep in practice,” Ron said to Amy’s ashen-faced boss.

They made their way to the dining room, where Amy had set three places at their table, with the bouquet Ron brought home in the center. As always, she placed Ron at the head of the table, with Mike to his left and herself on his right. They sat and Ron took Amy’s hand in hers. He offered his hand to Mike.

“We like to say grace before we eat,” he said. Mike gingerly took Ron’s hand. Amy and Ron bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Mike followed suit, not knowing what to expect.

“Lord,” Ron said, “thank you for this food which we are about to eat. Thank you for your many blessings on our home and our family. May you continue to bless us with your wisdom and your grace. Amen.”

“I hope everyone likes it,” Amy said, uncovering the plates to reveal a juicy Cornish game hen, one of Ron’s favorites. “I started slow-cooking it this morning.”

“This is delicious, dear,” Ron said, as he took a large bite. “Don’t you agree, Mike?” Mike nervously nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it’s very good,” he said. “You’re a wonderful cook, Amy.” Ron noticed Mike looking at him nervously as he complimented Amy on her cooking.

“Don’t worry, Mike,” he said. “I never kill anyone at the dinner table, do I dear?” Mike’s face blanched as Amy nodded in approval.

“Not without good cause,” she said. “It can get quite messy and I really don’t like having to clean the blood out of the tablecloth,” she added. “After all, it’s over 100 years old.”

“By the way, dear,” Ron said. “Mike tells me he plans to fuck you. And he wants me to watch. Did you know anything about that?”

“Really?” Amy asked. “No, he never said anything to me about that.” She looked at Mike. “Is that true, Mike? Do you plan to fuck me?”

“Please, Amy, I didn’t say that. Maybe your husband misunderstood me,” Mike said, shaking his head. Ron pulled out a tiny digital recorder and pressed a button.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty wife,” Mike’s voice said. “She’s going to love it and you’re going to watch.” Mike’s face turned red as Amy shook her head.

“What is it with you?” Amy asked. “We welcome you into our home, feed you, offer our hospitality and this is how you repay us?”

“Please,” Mike said. “It was only a joke. I was just kidding.”