Riley and Wilfred Burton

by Matt Moreau

Copyright© 2011 by Matt Moreau

Erotica Sex Story: She cheats with her boss, and feels she's giving her husband more than enough for him to be happy in spite ot it.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Cheating   Slow   .

Riley and Wilfred Burton, that's us. We married upon graduation from college; we were only twenty-two, but we were madly in love. Aged 37, now, the both of us. We met nineteen years gone when she'd come to William S. Goddard High as a transfer in her, our, senior year.

She was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, and I decided I had to have her at any cost. That tab, the price of falling in love with her, would be a long time coming due, but, when it did; it would prove to be more than I was willing to pay.

That last year in prep school was wild. We'd gotten each other's cherry, and everything looked rosy. Upon graduation we both attended the University of Chicago on partial scholarship—the only way our parents could afford it even with us working part time to defray some of the costs. We eventually staggered out of school both having gotten our degrees in Business Management. GPAs? Hers 3.74, mine 3.68. She never let me forget that she'd bested me by .06 grade points.

We tied the knot three months after graduation and began life in earnest. Early on, we'd talked over how we were going to launch our lives. Finally, it was decided that Riley would go to work while I went after the MBA. Because of that decision having kids was put on the back burner. Her job? Milford wholesalers. Milford Inc. was a wholesaler of a universe of products: everything from computer software to ladies lingerie. Milford's clients were mostly general merchandise retail chains along with any number of independents in the same lines.

Upon graduation with my MBA, I went looking for a job. One week into the process I came home to find a strange car parked in my driveway; it was 4:00PM. Oh, and it was a very nice car: a Cadillac actually. The owner of the ride was in our living room sipping tea. The man was dressed in what had to be a three-thousand dollar suit. Sitting next to him was my wife.

"Hi honey, we have a guest," said Riley, standing and coming to me, she planted a wifely kiss on my cheek and smiled—broadly. I gave her a questioning look, and smiled back at her. She led me over to the man, who stood and shook my hand.

"Honey, this is John Milford. He owns the company I work for," said Riley.

"How do you do, sir?" I said.

"Good. And you, young man," he said." I responded appropriately.

Riley took my hand a led me to the chair across from the couch and gave my hand a small squeeze in the doing of it.

I was suitably impressed with the stranger who I judged to be in his late forties. And, well I might have been impressed. At my then age of twenty-five, he was exactly what I thought I would someday be myself if things worked out they way I hoped.

Riley was dressed very nicely too. A lot nicer than usual. I figured her efforts had to do with the presence of the man I was shaking hands with. It was but a moment later that I discovered how right I was.

I motioned the man to have a seat. He reseated himself and I followed suit. My wife still smiling brightly joined him. I thought it a little odd that she was sitting on the couch by him instead of by me, but it wasn't odd enough for me to say anything.

"Honey, Joh—mister Milford, has something for us," she said. And, yes I did notice that she had almost used the first name of the man, but had caught herself in mid-pronunciation and had used the more formal appellation instead. I let it go.

"Yes, Mr. Burton," he said. "Actually, I am here to offer you a job. Your wife works directly under one of my division chiefs and does such a good job that when she came to me, to us, to ask about job opportunities for someone with your background, or actually, you; we gave her a listen; and well, here we are."

"Oh—okay—I mean really? What..." I stuttered.

"Initially you would be working under Rod Mercer, he handles independent outlets all over the country for us. You'd be his field liaison with our various suppliers of product. You'd be answering directly to him.

"It's a good job, Mr. Burton. Definitely not an entry level position. A lot will be expected of you if you sign on," he said. "The job does require a deal of travel too, I should add." I nodded.

"Rlies?" I said. She nodded vigorously.

"Oh yes, honey, this is just what we, you, were hoping for. And we'll be working for the same company. Not the same divisions, but at least the same firm," she said.

I threw up my hands. I was happy, I guess; at least my search was over. My wife was happy for sure. Nothing had been said about income at that point, but I was betting it would be pretty good, or my wife wouldn't have been so ebullient. "Okay," I said. "When do I start and where and..."

"You start Monday, if that's all right," said Mr. Milford. "Pay is seventy-five annual if you care," he said. He was smiling as he said it; he clearly expected me to be pleased. I was; I mean especially after he'd announced the pay scale.

"It's fine, and I do care!" I said, letting my enthusiasm show.

"Well, good, young man. I should tell you that you will be accompanying Mr. Mercer almost immediately on a short trip, kind of a training junket for you," he said. "But, well, Mr. Mercer will fill you in on that on Monday."

The small talk, and some not so small talk, continued for a little bit; finally, the big man, stood, said his goodbyes, and we showed him out.

My wife and I were alone. We faced each other, and she started to laugh, a little hysterically, I thought, but it was kind of a crazy moment. Crazy enough to cover up some glaring reasons for concern, I'd later realize; that, much, much later. What reasons? What concerns?

One, finding a well known CEO of a major company sitting in the living room of essentially an inexperienced kid, me. My wife's good record with the company the man ran notwithstanding.

Two, I'd hoped and prayed, that I could find an entry level job that paid 40K in what was essentially a lousy job market. To be offered a mid-level position at almost twice that amount should have been a red flag for damn sure.

Three, I was going to be travelling, and that almost immediately at company's expense. Travelling and presumably buying with virtually no experience; oh yeah, that definitely should have been a tell.

My upcoming trip with Mr. Mercer would likely be a good learning experience, but was that going to be enough for someone as green as me. I made a pledge to myself that I was going to do my damnedest to make sure it was—but still...

Mr. Mercer would likely turn out to be a manager with top notch skills, but it just didn't feel right, or more accurately shouldn't have felt right.

But all such thoughts were far from me at that moment. Indeed, though all was more than surreal, was I complaining or suspicious or concerned? Not on your life. I was young, and confident and immortal and all of the usual things. Cloud nine had never been so firmly occupied as it was by me at that moment.

"Mr. Milford will see you now, miss Burton," said the receptionist. She started down the hall, stopped at a framed picture of some former VIP and appraised herself in the reflection from the glass.

Not bad, she thought: young and gorgeous, a great combination. Her tight middie skirt, her matching tan blouse, her spikes all complemented what she saw in that reflection. Yes, ma'am, she smiled to herself, Riley Burton is one very successful executive secretary, and more than well appreciated by the company CEO.

That appreciation of her—uhr—talents had its rewards. She'd been able to see to it that her beloved man, Wilfred Langford Burton, her Will, got the job he wanted and deserved; and, at a much higher salary than he—even she—expected. Of course there was a price, but it was one she was more than willing to pay, she thought.

She entered his office without knocking. "Hi boss," she said, seating herself across from him and in front of his desk.

"And good morning to you missus Burton," he said, smiling. "How is hubby today, if I may ask?"

"He's happy as a clam, and so am I," she said.

"Not suspicious of my generosity?" said the man.

"No. I guess one could say he's in a state of wonderment at the moment. Mister Milford, John, I hope he doesn't disappoint you," said Riley.

"I'm not worried. Mercer's a good man. He'll teach him the ropes, and if I'm any judge, your husband will make the grade. But, don't worry, his job is in no danger regardless. He has an insurance policy in you. But—uh—I think it may be time for you to pay one of your insurance premiums. Don't you?" he said.

"Certainly," she said. She stood, turned, locked the door, and came to him. Kneeling in front of him, she pulled down his zipper and felt his cock through his underpants. She grinned. "Looks like you're ready for me."

"Oh yeah," he said. Pulling his cock out of his pants, she stroked it slowly and surveyed its eight-inch length and wrist thick girth; her husband's equipment was maybe half the size of this magnificent fuck engine, she thought; she sighed at the thought.

She began licking and sucking him. It felt like she had a slightly curved steel rod in her mouth. In but a few minutes she felt him shudder. He came—hard and long and copiously; she swallowed it all.

Cleaning himself up, he watched as she straightened her cloths. She leaned back against the desk and watched as he zipped up. She smiled.

Done, he leaned back in his chair, once more the imperial CEO. "You know, Mrs. Burton, I can't figure it. You're smart, pretty, sexy to the nth degree: and yet, you married a man who is pretty clearly beneath you. Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm sure he's a great guy and all, but... ?"

"He is a great guy, and he's pretty smart too. You've got his college transcripts. Beneath me? Only in the sense that he's shorter than me, okay, a lot shorter than me. But the package? Believe me, John, my husband will be the best employee you ever had, and he won't be long in proving it to you either," she said. He smiled indulgently at her.

"And yet, you felt the need to use your—influence—to get him a job," he said. "I gotta tell yuh, I see hiring him is a risk, a small one, but a risk. If he ever catches on to—well you know—he's not gonna be real happy."

"As for using my influence, as you put it, let's just say I'm the impatient type. I didn't want to be waitin' five years for him to be appreciated. I'll do pretty much whatever I have to avoid that bullshit," she said. "Especially when what I am required to do is so much fun!" she began to giggle uncontrollably.

He flashed her a phony frown. "Okay, well, I hope you're right about him making the grade in a hurry. This is a business. I can afford to give him an opportunity, but not to institutionalize mediocrity," he said; "it would set a bad example for the troops." She nodded, and the nod was a serious one. She resolved to train her man, if necessary, to be a top notch performer. She was around the best all of the time; she knew the game. She hoped that her Will did too."

I did go on the training junket with Mr. Mercer. He was a man I would learn to respect and admire, a man who knew everything about the business; and, learning from him was not only effective it was actually fun.

The next twelve years were good years. Riley and I did well financially and we did even better in the bedroom. We never tired of each other. That simple and single fact was, in the end, to threaten our marriage.

"Oh honey that feels so good. I've got to get you up one more time." It was the third time that evening. She did and we did it.

"Jesus, Riles, I think you're going to be the death of me, but what a way to go," I said, as we lay there panting.

"Like it did you?" she said.

"Oh yeah," I said. "You know I don't understand it, Riles."

"What's that, darling man?"

"Well, we've been married for fifteen years and we're still getting it on like newlyweds. Not many can say as much.

"The early years, the first few years, were good, Riles, but they weren't this good. It's only been since we've worked for the company that we..." I stopped in mid-sentence. Riley's contented look faded for the briefest of moments, I noticed, but she gathered herself.

"Because the pressure of school and everything was off after you started to work for Milford," she said.

"Pressure off? Hardly Riles, The job I've got has me on edge most of the time. I'm so dragged out some nights that even you can't get a rise out of me," I said. She looked away, so I didn't see the concern that painted her features.

"The truth is, Will, you are just a much better lover than you were in the early years. A much better one," she said, grinning.

"Thanks—I guess," I said. But there was something wrong. She got me off subject by bringing up my favorite one, our babies. Well, they weren't exactly babies anymore. But at age twelve the twins were as beautiful as their mother and as active as any children I'd ever heard of.

Riles and I had deferred having children while I'd worked on my MBA. And, we'd planned to wait a bit even then, until I could land a good enough job to make it sensible to enlarge the family. But, the job at Milford inc. arrested all of those concerns and so we'd made the plunge. I fucked her pregnant, and we were almost immediately blessed with twin girls.

"Gabi and Gret are joining the soccer team," she said. I noticed she'd changed the subject, but her news interested me and got me off track.

"So we're going to be soccer moms, then," I said. Now I was smiling, and she noticeably relaxed. I say noticeably because I noticed it.

"Well, unless you've grown a pussy, you'll be a soccer dad, okay big man?" she said.

"Whatever you say, dear," I said. She was always calling me big man even though it was clear tha that was the one thing that I was not. At five-six and one-forty, I was three inches shorter than she was and only twenty pounds heavier. I was in pretty good shape—she'd insisted on me taking care of myself, so I did—but, I was never going to be a big man. It had never been an issue for us, and looked never to become one; but it did kinda rankle sometimes when I thought she was needling me.

The girls actually turned out to be very good at sports. Not because of anything they inherited from me for sure; they just worked hard and made it on effort. Now, maybe they did inherit that particular trait. Both their mother and myself were barn burners when it came to our careers. And our incomes and promotions were hard evidence of it.

Mister Milford actually seemed surprised in the early going that I was as productive as I was. That kind of bothered me. It was like he figured I wouldn't make it and was therefore surprised. I had to ask myself why he offered me such a good start up job, if he had doubts about me. But, at any rate, I hadn't disappointed him and he let me know it more or less regularly.

Twelve years with the company now, and I was up for a vice presidency. Mister Mercer was about to retire and there are only two names are on the list to get his seat at the table: mine, and Cap Winetraub's. Cap just happens to be my wife's boss. He's in charge of a division that deals with the chain operations not the independents like mine does. The job was for the division handling the independents I had to feel I was a tad more qualified than Cap is, even though Cap had a deal more seniority than I did, but the choice was Mister Milford's not mine not Cap's. That, at least, was the situation until today. It's not anymore.

The choice was to be announced at the company's annual All Divisions Meeting in June, two weeks hence.

Maybe an update on the status of my wife and I in terms of our careers, to put things in perspective, is in order before proceeding.

My wife's still an executive secretary, but one that has the influence of a personal assistant and confidant. Her salary of $100K annual is evidence of that. Mine as National Coordinator for Independent Operations, one step below the VPship, paid well too: $200K annual. That kind of income, ours, allowed the two of us to do very well for ourselves. We'd invested in property and certain common stocks that were virtually guaranteed not to dive even in a bear market. We're doing well. Yes, everything's rosy; well, everything was rosy until today, as I indicated.

My boss and I had finished earlier than expected and had gotten back into town almost a week sooner than expected, that after a tour of four Southern states. I hadn't called Riley and told her. For no good reason, I had decided to surprise her. I was the one surprised. Boy, was I ever.

I stood in the hallway of our one story ranch style, and listened while he fucked her.

"Ohmyohmyohmy," she repeated over and over again. She must have cum two or even three times while I listened. The man was clearly very skilled at screwing my wife. The man? Why John Milford, CEO of Milford Inc.

I peaked around the door jamb and watched as he ploughed her from behind. They were facing away from the doorway and didn't see me. Her butt was raised high in the air and her 36C cups dangled down from her chest adding to the sexiness of the image. God she was beautiful, just a magnificent female creature, I thought. And, obviously a cheater and a whore.

He was ramming her mercilessly now. I had to think he was hurting her, but she kept begging for more.

I slipped back away from the door jamb to hear what I could hear. He would cum soon, I was certain, and then they would talk. I wanted to know what they would be saying to each other, and what they might be saying about me.

I heard the rustle of bed clothes as he must've rolled off of her. There was some sighing and kissing going on, loud kissing.

"You were fantastic today," he said.

"Of course," she giggled. "You're the best. It's easy to be fantastic with that kind of inspiration."

"You men my cock?" he said. She must have pointed at his penis judging by his response. I looked down toward where my cock was hidden by my pants. I wondered how big he was, or if he was just good at what he did in bed.

"You like my big guy?" he said.

"Oh yes. It's twice the size of Will's. I so wish he was bigger than he is, but I just have to make do with what he's got, I guess. It's not very satisfying, but it's better than nothing, I suppose," she said. They both laughed, and that heartily; they were laughing at me. In that moment two things happened. One, I got my answer as to how big his cock was; and two, my marriage ended. All that was left of me and Riley, now, as a couple, were the lawyers and the inevitable tears and shouting and whatever.

I went downstairs to await his departure. I'd be quitting of course. I couldn't possibly work for the man after I'd become his cuckold. Too bad, it'd been a good job.

I made myself a drink, a stiff one, at the little wet bar in the den and settled in. Maybe an hour later I heard the faint sound of water running. One or both of them were probably showering.

The den had a direct line of sight to the front room through the kitchen. They came into view, embraced, kissed, and said something private that I didn't hear. Then, they saw me staring at them.

Riley was wearing a robe but it was open and her bald mound was visible and beautiful. I wanted to fuck and kill her at one and the same time. But, neither was going to happen. helluva note.

"Will," said the man who then apparently lost his voice. I waved him off. That seemed to silence him. She closed her robe, interesting I thought, an attempt at modesty under the circumstances seemed more than superfluous. She turned to him and said something. He nodded, turned, and walked out.

"You weren't supposed to see that," she said, the she being my wife. "How long have you been here?"

"A couple of hours, and no, I wouldn't imagine that I was supposed to see that—or hear—you know, how little you think of me as a man. How long," I said.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "And you are every inch a man. Never doubt that. I mean it."

"That long? And you really think I'm a man, every inch a man? Then explain to me how you could say the things you said in there, especially about my cock," I said.

I was actually feeling mellow. Wasn't I supposed to feel hurt, cold, angry something when I catch the love of my life fucking another man in our marital bed?

"Will, I'm sorry. But—it's not a problem really. I know you're hurt. Even if you don't know it yet," she said. "I did it—and, Will, I'm not sorry I did it—except for the hurting you part, like I said. And, my words—oh my how I wish I could take them back. God! How it must have hurt you to hear that."

"Interesting. You look awfully satisfied with yourself if I may say so. You're not sorry you did it? How am I supposed to deal with that?" I said.

"It's just sex, Will. I don't love Mr. Milford and he doesn't love me. He, we, just do it once in a while. It's, what, recreation, I guess," she said.

"Once in a while. Recreation. Like I said interesting," I said. Then, it hit me. You've been doing him since the beginning haven't you," I said. She looked down.

"My great job, the starting salary were rewards for you doing him? Right" I said.

"It hasn't hurt us a bit, Will. And, as for me getting you the job, well, yes, that part is true. But, you have more than proven yourself over the years. Your promotions were all on your own, no help from me," she said. "You sure didn't need me for that."

"But if I had needed it you'd have been there for me. Right? I mean in his bed, or, maybe our bed?" I said. "Right?"

"Will, you didn't need my help. You're good. I am very proud of you. I truly mean that. And if it matters, Joh ... Mr. Milford is proud of you too," she said.

"That's nice, and no it doesn't matter anymore. Not since I now know I've been his cuckold, and yours, for years," I said. "A fucking cucky for god's sake. Well, that pretty much wipes out any vestige of self-respect that I might ever have been able to lay claim to doesn't it. I'm a fucking joke. A wimpy-assed fucking joke. Thanks a helluva lot, Riles.

"Can I ask? Are my kids even mine?" I said.

"Will Burton! I..."

"Save it Riley. I wouldn't believe anything you say now anyway. Not after discovering that you have been lying and cheating on me for years.

I had to ask. "Who was going to get the vice presidency at the meeting?" I said. "I mean if you're privy to such high things."

"Will, you deserve the VPship," she said; she looked sincere.

"I deserve it because you are a great piece of ass. Right, Riles?" I said.

"Will, John would have given it to you anyway. You and Cap are both good men. But, you have the edge having been involved with the independents. My pussy did not buy that for you," she said. She'd actually said that.

"Well, it's over now," I said. "I will be resigning tomorrow effective immediately."

"What! You'd quit a job you've put so much into? A job that pays you twice..." she'd slipped up there.

"Yeah, right, twice what I'm worth. I mean without your pussy to support me," I said.

"Will, it's not like that at all. You've got to stop being so childish. You do not need to quit your job. Yes, I fucked up doing it here in the house. But, you were supposed to be gone for another week.

"Will, I refuse to get all teary eyed and weepy over something that doesn't need to affect us at all."

"Can I ask why you did it in the first place? Am I that bad a lover, husband? I mean I heard you in there belittling me, but I know you and I have—well, I guess not, huh." She looked frustrated, no, determined.

"Truth?" I nodded. She hesitated; she was obviously wondering if, under the circumstances, telling the adorned truth was a good idea. I guess she decided that it was, but she was going to sugarcoat it a bit to make it, the truth, less cruel.

"You're a great husband, Will. But, in bed, well, you're okay. Nothing extra, but you are okay, You even get me off once in a while, and it's mighty hard for any man to get a woman off by fucking her regardless of what you think," she said.

"Nothing extra. You sure no how to hurt a guy," I said.

"Shit, I didn't mean that. Will, I just want to be up front with you. John, well, he's special in bed. His wife doesn't do it for him anymore, so I help him out once in a while. That's all," she said.

"What's once in a while, Riles. How often is that. How often do you light his fire?" I said.

"What the fuck difference does that make, Will. No let me answer my own question. It doesn't make any difference whatsoever. It hasn't hurt us a bit. Well, not until today."

"You said you wanted to be up front, Riles. So..."

"Okay, you asked for it. Almost every day, but at work, not here," she said.

That one threw me for a loop. I sagged back onto the couch I'd been sitting on.

It seemed odd, but I could smell her scent from the several feet that separated us, and it kinda turned me on.

"Jesus, I guess I must be some kind of clueless fool for sure, huh. The two of you must have had a lot of laughs at my expense over the years? I mean like today," I said.

"Will, nobody laughed at you, certainly not me," she said. "Today, was just a stupid bit of silliness on my part. Please, you've got to forgive me."

"I don't believe you, Riles. But, I guess that's one thing that really doesn't matter. The fact is that I was laughable. Helluva note. You know, Riles, I really thought that our marriage was one of the few really good ones. Just goes to show you, doesn't it.

"But, I do have just have one more question. Are we going to have to fight tooth and nail over custody? I really need to be around my girls, help bring them up, you know," I said. "I could forgive a lot on some level, Riles, but never if you are going to screw me over in the divorce too," I said.

"What? Custody? Divorce! What are you talking about. You can't be thinking of divorcing me. We've been together for fifteen years, longer really. We're a couple—soulmates." I smiled at her.

"We're done, Riles. I really do love you, always will. But, you obviously don't love me," I said.

"Will, today was an anomaly, and aberration. I will never-never-ever do anything to humiliate you like this again. And I do accept that I humiliated and belittled you. I will pay for that, believe me, for a long long time. I do love you, Will. More today than when we were married," she said. "John isn't part of us. He's just recreation."

"Riley, You just got done telling me that you have been making a cuckold out of me for the past twelve years at least. And, you admit to giving him at least twice the pussy that you ever gave me. Please, do you have any idea how I am feeling right now? You've destroyed me, Riles. You've killed my heart. Congratu-fucking-lations."

"No, Will, please. This is a very solvable problem. Really. Will, I will make this up to you in spades. You have to give me a chance. Just a chance," she said.

"You want a chance, Riles. Really?" I said. She looked hopeful.

"My God yes," she said.

"Okay, I will make you this offer. A one-time offer good for one minute, Riley. It's ironclad. Call him up, now. Tell him to fuck himself that you are quitting and that he is never to contact you again, not even to send you your final check—never—no contact. Whaddya say, Mrs. Riley Burton?" I said. The look on her face said it all.

"That's what I thought," I said. I'd already stood and was headed for the door. At the last second I turned to look back at my soon to be former wife.

"About the children. I really hope we won't have to be battling over them. I need to be able to see them at will." I walked out. She made no attempt to stop me or even speak to me as the door closed behind me.

The girls were staying with their grandma's, Riley's mom, Mrs. Charles Gibson; she let me in with a big smile. I knew that they had the day off from school because of some teacher conference being held in town. That they were not going to school worked for me.

Mary's husband had passed away some years before: heart problems. I'd showed up at her door within the hour of leaving their mother.

"Hi, Mary," I said. "I need to speak with my girls if I might. It's important." She eyed me, wondering no doubt at my serious demeanor

"Certainly, Will, I'll get them; they're doing something on the computer.

A minute later they came down the hall and plopped down in front of me on the couch.

"Hi daddy," said Gretel.

"Yeah, hi dad," said Gabrielle.

"Hi back atcha babies. I looked at them for a long moment. Fifteen, almost as beautiful as their mother. Smart and athletic too, as it'd turned out. I was one proud dad.

"Girls, I have something very important to say to you, to tell you. Okay" I said. They looked at each other and nodded in the affirmative.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I am just going to get down to it. Your mother and I are splitting up. The reasons are immaterial as far as you two are concerned, but it's going to happen. I just wanted to give you the news myself rather than have you hear it from someone else, even your mom. We both love you, and you can be with me or her, your choice. You can visit the other any time you want too, no restrictions. Do you understand, girls? Gretel? Gabi?"

"Daddy, no!" they said in unison.

"You can't divorce, daddy, split up. Not you and mom," said Gretel.

"Not even," said Gabi."

I could hear Mary in the kitchen on the phone. She hung up, loudly.

She came back into the room and stared at me. "Will, is it true?" said Mary. I nodded.

"Will, you have to try and patch it up. You two are meant for each other.

"Girls, could you give your dad and I a minute alone?" said Mary. The two teenagers rose and headed off down the hall; they seemed almost relieved. My heart was ripped apart having to tell them what I did.

"Wilfred Burton, What's all of this about? I just got off the phone with my daughter and she says you want a divorce and that you'd probably be by. She told me not to let you have the girls," said Mary. I had to marvel at my wife's selectivity of remarks.

"Want a divorce? No, Mary, that is not exactly the truth. I have no choice," I said. "You say she told you I couldn't have my babies?"

"Well, I mean..."

"Mary, I'm not here to cause trouble. I guess Riles is planning on fighting me for shared custody. If so, there will be a fight. I can't be separated from them. You can tell your daughter that all I want is unrestricted visitation. Less than that is not acceptable. They'll be sixteen in a few months and then it will be their choice anyway. So, really, I hope Riley won't be coming at me for what I consider a more than reasonable request," I said.

"Will, talk to her. Fix this. Whatever it is, it has to be fixable," she said. I smiled weakly.

"Mary, I love you. You've been and are a great grandma. Since my parents both passed, I—we've—kinda depended on you and you've always been there for us. Please, just get Riley to be straight with me on visitation. Unrestricted visitation, Mary. This doesn't have to degenerate into a battle royal. Okay?" I said. She nodded, but I wasn't sure if it was a nod of understanding or one of agreement. I guessed that I would soon know.

There was nothing for it. It had been a helluva morning. I'd walked in on them at a little after 7:00AM; he'd obviously stayed the night. I wondered if he'd be going in to work or if my showing up would have altered his plans for the day. Well, it didn't matter, I had to go in.

It was almost 1:00PM now, the conversation with the girls have kept me a little while, but there was still a lot of day left; and, being a man of action and not procrastination, I headed for the office.

I had to turn in keys and important papers and any number of important records before I could close out my retirement fund account, arrange for continued health insurance because I carried the girls on it—though I'd be dumping my wife off of it; she'd could get her own damn insurance now—and end my long association with my employer. I did not relish the prospect. I hoped the man who had spent years cuckolding me would have the decency to stand aside and allow me to leave quietly. Well, hopes notwithstanding, it wasn't to be.

"Hi, Sylvia," I said, "'fraid I need your help, girl," I said, I was smiling, but I didn't feel too good.

"How's that, Mr. Burton," said the girl who handled everything for HRO.

"I'm resigning effective immediately," I said.

"Huh!" said Sylvia.

"Yeah, it's for real. Handle it for me will you," I said. "I'll be keeping my health insurance and paying for it myself. Just send me all of the paperwork, so I can get it done easy. Okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Burton, but..."

"Yeah, I know, you have to get it cleared upstairs et cetera et cetera. Just do what you have to do, and sooner would be better than later," I said.

Well, that should have been it, or, rather in my dreams that should have been it. I got the message from my secretary not twenty minutes after my talking to Sylvia. I was just walking into my office to gather my stuff for my exit.

"Mister Burton, the big boss wants to see you. He said he wants to see you as soon as you come in," said Janet. Janet had been with me for the past three years and I valued her as a person and as a secretary. I sighed.

"Okay," I said. "I'll go up in a minute."

"Mr. Burton, are you really quitting?" said Janet. I had to marvel at the speed at which the rumor mills ground their produce.

"Yes, Janet. I am. Personal reasons," I said.

"You found out didn't you?" she said.

"Huh? What?" I said.

"The two of them have been doing it to you for a long time, Mr. Burton. Frankly I have wanted to tell you forever, but he would have fired me on the spot. I turned down a bonus from him because I knew it was nothing but a bribe to keep me from telling you. I did stay silent because I'm a single mom and couldn't afford to lose a job this good, but I'd be damned if I was going to profit from it," she said.

"Jesus! How many others knew I was being cuckolded?" I said.

"I don't know for sure, but more than me for sure," she said.

"Janet, if I can ever repay you for your loyalty, you can believe I will," I said.

"Thank you mister, Burton," she said. I kissed her on the cheek and headed up for my little confab with mister big dick.

His secretary had been told to expect me, and she shooed me right in. "Go in, Mr. Burton. Mr. Milford is expecting you," she said.

"I'll bet," I said, and went in.

He was seated behind his desk leaning back in his chair. He absently rotated a ballpoint pen in his hand as I took a seat across from him without waiting for an invitation. For a long moment we eyed each other. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Okay, you caught us. I'm a dirty rotten scoundrel. I'm also your benefactor, and hers too actually," he said.

"You fucked me over. You made me think that I had a job because of my talents when all the while my wife was paying for it. That kind of pisses me off," I said. He smirked.

"Yeah, I can imagine. But, that said, I don't want to lose you. Yeah, you got the job in the first place because she was so good-at—well—at what she does. Oh and by the way she's a damn good executive assistant too." he said.

"Look, Will, Riley aside, You've meant a lot to this company, and I am prepared to do what it takes to convince you to stay," he said. He was still smirking, but it wasn't a smart ass kind of smirk—strange. Nevertheless, I was prepared for his offer. Riley had hinted that there was a deal to be made if I would just reach out and take it.

"And your offer is?" I said.

"One, I'm done fucking your wife," he said. "I promise."

"Not that your word isn't golden, Mr. Milford, but it doesn't matter anymore; I'm divorcing her. You can screw her till Jesus comes again for all I care," I said. "What else you got on the table?"

"The vice presidency you were, I'm sure, expecting; and, I'll double your pay," he said. I stared. Just how mad was I, I asked myself. I had to ask the question. His offer was almost enough. Almost. I decided to up the ante.

"Almost enough," I said.

He gave me an incredulous look. "Huh? It's a hell of an offer, Willy, he said. "What else do you want?" he looked to be getting irritated.

"Like I said, you can fuck Riley forever for all I care, but I want a little payback. You made me an unknowing cuckold. I figure it's your turn. I wanna do your wife." His eyes became as big as dinner plates.

"What!" he almost screamed. "You want to fuck Olivia?"

"That's the deal. The VPship, the money, and your wife: put that package together and we're best of friends again," I said. He sagged back in his chair.

"Livy will never go for it," he said.

"Mister Milford, all I have to do to sink your ship is tell your wife what you've done to me. Today, I discovered that half the company knew what was going on. There won't be any problem proving my thesis to her." Okay, I exaggerated, but he didn't know that.

"You're a serious asshole, you know that," he said. I ignored his remark.

"Hey, I'm letting you have Riley, no strings. That ought to be incentive enough to get me a date with Livy," I said.

"If I want Riley, I wouldn't need your permission in case you haven't gotten that yet," he said. Now he was irritated.

"I want your wife, no negotiation on that point, John," I said his name with just a trace of sarcasm. "Fucking my wife for more than ten years and not so much as an apology. No, good buddy, I'm not the asshole here, you are. You're the asshole, and that in technicolor," I said. "But, as for you being able to do my wife at will; well, I guess you have a point there, obviously" I said.

"You gonna ask her?" he said. "I mean Olivia?"

"Have a barbecue at your place. Put me in a situation where I can come on to her; I'll do the rest," I said.

He nodded. "I'll set it up, but your production on the job best be of mythical proportions. Your wife is a good fuck, a really good fuck, but not good enough if you cost us business or my wife. Got it?" he said. I nodded.

"And, one last thing in case I wasn't clear enough. I do not want a divorce from 'my' wife. You can believe it or not, but I love her. She's boring as hell in bed, but in every other way she's tops. You mess up my marriage, and your next job will be flipping burgers at McDonald's. Got that!" he said.

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