Keeping My Job

by Big Fella

Copyright© 2012 by Big Fella

True Sex Story: Times are tough. I'm making good money and living large. I'm also in debt up to my eyeballs. If I lose my job, I'm toast. Everything my home, my car and my wife are dependent on my job. How important is keeping my job? Well, that is what this sad tale is all about. IF YOU HATE CUCKOLD stories do NOT READ. Desperate men do desperate things.

Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Reluctant   Coercion   Blackmail   Drunk/Drugged   BiSexual   Heterosexual   True Story   Cheating   Slut Wife   Wimp Husband   Cuckold   Wife Watching   White Couple   Oral Sex   Pregnancy   Cream Pie   Size   .

The economy sucks. Now, that shouldn't come as any surprise to anyone who lives in the real world. Now, if you live on Government Subsidies, then maybe you haven't noticed. The Government ALWAYS has more money because it takes and takes.

So, because the economy sucks; my life sucks. I'm constantly in fear of being "laid off". Twenty-five years ago I had no such fear. The economy was poor during that time too, but I was young and didn't need so much. For one thing I was single and had no kids or obligations. For another I could live then with almost no comfort. Hell, in a pinch I could even "go home to mamma".

Today, it's a different story. By working hard, long and smart, I've moved up in the world and now have a mid six figure salary and a LOT of perks. Of course, I also have the HOUSE, the CAR, the CLUB memberships and all the other falderal that goes with the good life.

I'm not so sure it's still the good life.

So, what is my problem: My 35 year old boss is riding me like a three dollar whore over shit I can't control. For example, he thinks I should be able to convince my customers to buy shit they clearly don't need in a down economy. He keeps dropping hints that "perhaps I don't have the "energy for the job" any longer.

By the way, my name is Peter. Folks call me Pete. I'm 47 years old.

Every meeting we're told to keep our resume's in order as "life is a bitch" and "only results count". And, like every ass wipe I've ever worked for, the "results" he wants are 10% higher than we've EVER done, even in good times. The ass hole is just trying to KEEP HIS JOB at our expense.

Okay. Enough of that rant. So, now you understand my desperation and why I did what I did.

About 5 years ago I met and married my second wife after my first wife died and she is the cutest, sexiest, sweetest babe you'd ever want to meet. I was lucky, blessed and over the top in love. I still am. Go figure. So, how could I do what I did? Well, let me tell you.

Trudy, my 27 year old wife is a light weight. By that I mean she only weighs about 95 lbs. and is only 4' 9" tall. She, like many women of slight build can't hold her liquor. She's a happy, flirty drunk and I have always had to keep a close eye on her at parties and other "drinking" events so she didn't get taken advantage. I loved her and so that was okay with me. I'm big. By that I mean I'm 6'4" and weigh over 250 lbs. Much of that weight is muscle but I have put on a few pounds and have a small roll around my belt line. I jog three miles every other day, and do calisthenics and lift weight when I don't run. So, all in all, I'm in good shape.

My boss, the asshole, is short, fat and bald. I could break his neck like a twig and I would be happy to do so if I could get away with doing it. He loves lording his power over all his minions. He does this in a myriad of ways including humiliation.

For example: My best friend, Robert (call me Bob) was at one of our company gatherings with his wife Jean and the asswipe spilled a drink on her and blamed him for "jiggling" his arm. Then when she wanted to go clean up insisted she dance with him right then. Of course, with her blouse soaked he could see her breasts and since he is so short he danced with his face in her tits for the next five dances.

I could see Bob was enraged and I had to practically tackle him to keep him in his job and out of jail. He was pissed at me for days until he finally calmed down and decided that he would just not bring his wife to any more "do's".

On Monday five weeks after the party I was called into Asswipe's office and was told there was going to be a "right sizing" in the next six months.I asked "what can I do to make sure I'm part of the solution".

His reply shocked me "I want to fuck your wife".

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I knew he was an asswipe, but I never knew he was crazy.

"You've got to be out of your fucking mind" I screamed, jumping out of my chair and looking down at him.

He cringed but said "sit down and shut the fuck up or you can clean out your desk today"!

Continuing on he said "I have looked into your personal life and I KNOW you are hard pressed financially. You cannot afford to lose this job. If you want to avoid personal bankruptcy then you'll find a way to make it happen"

Then he added "I will never mention this again so forget trying to record me asking for anything inappropriate, I will just lay your big ass off and leave you a bad review, so, you'll just make this happen with NO FURTHER DISCUSSION" "Do, you understand"? "DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!" he screamed.

I was stunned into silence. But, I nodded. My life was flashing before my eyes.

I had to think. There must be a way to get out of this, I just had to think.

Of course, there was no way out of "this". Not without losing everything. Our home, our financial future was all in deep jeopardy. I was over 45 years old, the economy sucked and NO ONE WAS HIRING old guys.

I panicked.

I flopped down in the chair and said "What do I have to do, exactly?"

He smiled and said "just see to it that I get to fuck her within the next two months" "I want her all night and in every hole, no excuses and no delay". At the end of two months, if I haven't had the slut, you are history".

To which I replied "Only one night"?

"Yep" he said, "just one LONG night". "Oh, and you have to actively participate" "We can't have you claiming 'rape', now can we?"

I stuttered "What do you mean I have to participate?" "I can't do that".

"You'll do it and like it; Your participation is my guarantee that you'll never be able to come back at me."

So, my fate was sealed. I returned home with thoughts of suicide in mind and I actually meant to die before I would betray my wife in such a vile way.

If only I had the courage. But, big man or not, I was a coward. A craven coward.

Trudy noticed how upset I was and sweetly asked me about my day. I made the usual excuses about business and pressure, etc. Eventually, she stopped asking me and we had a somewhat somber evening and dinner was a blur. I barely remember eating anything. I was beside myself with fear and self loathing.

The days passed then before long it was a week, then two weeks. Every day was like a millstone around my neck as a floundered. My work suffered. If this kept up, I would lose my job for justified incompetence. I had to do something. ANYTHING.

Every year we, Trudy and I, had a party at our home around Halloween. We always had at least 40 people and had it catered with Plenty of food, and BOOZE. I had never invited Asswipe. This year I did invite him and explained to Trudy that with layoffs around the corner, I needed to "suck up" a bit and having the boss over was just good politics.

True to form, Trudy began to get tipsy. I even helped her by strengthening her drinks and bringing her another when her glass showed near empty. Finally, I could see she was beginning to slur and weave when she walked. One of her friends pointed out to me that Trudy was "sure having a fine time tonight". I agreed and brought Trudy another drink.

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