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F6: Spreading the Word

By: FAWCker



This story is a submission to the sixth Friendly Anonymous Writing Challenge (FAWC) and a tribute to the founder of FAWC, slyc_willie, who we lost unexpectedly in October 2015. The true author of this story is kept anonymous until the end of the competition. Authors base their story on a list of four items. Their choices included the following letters: S L Y C. Each item was used in the story. There are no prizes given in this challenge; this is simply a friendly competition.

The list for this story includes: Lecturer, Licorice, Laundry room, Lech

* * * *

It was so clichéd, I'm embarrassed to even mention it.

I wonder how many other spouses, all across the country, are having their lives destroyed every evening by the callous, vicious, cruelty of the ones they've committed their lives to.

How do they respond, when out of the blue, with no warning, and absolute zero consideration from their significant other, they hear the words, "I'm leaving."

How do they feel, to know their entire life has been a sham, their future plans have just been obliterated, and they are back at square one?

I sat in shock, my mind stalled, unable to respond. The words were like an evil virus that short-circuited any semblance of thought. I felt like I'd been punched in the solar plexus, unable to breathe, as the impact left me helpless.

"I know you'll agree that things between us haven't been good lately. I'm tired of being nothing but a trophy wife, a bauble you own. I need a change, and I know you do too. I'm sure you'll realize that once you've had time to think about it."

Finally, the gray matter sputtered and restarted. My heart shuddered and started weakly beating. The breath that had been trapped in my chest escaped with a whistling rush, past my paralytic vocal chords. "Leaving?" I squeaked, like a teenage adolescent passing through puberty.

I'll readily admit it could have been worse; it could be the hackneyed bubble-gum chewing process server dropping the manila envelope in your hand and telling you that you've been served. Yes, I can only imagine how horrible that would be. But in the stories, the spouse getting served usually deserves it. For the life of me, I couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong.

Or perhaps the family lecture, where everyone knows but you, spouse and children gathered around the table, laying out the new rules they've adopted, for a game you never agreed to. That would be pretty terrible. Luckily we had no children, and the idea of my wife as the lecturer was ludicrous. I loved the woman, but she wasn't much for oratorical feats. I had to wonder who'd been doing the coaching for her to put together that initial devastating salvo. 

Worse yet, it could have been the cheater's ambush, where they bring their partner in adultery with them, nominally for support, but in actuality their purpose is to ridicule and humiliate you, so that you roll over without a fight. They cut your knees out from under you, gut you, stab you in the heart and the back at the same time, leaving you bleeding, dying in the home you'd created together, your sanctuary, now a crime scene. I can't imagine much worse.

I'd only been in the door a minute or so, wondering why her Lexus was in the driveway. She never drove the Lexus, not since I gave her the Beemer for her birthday. I barely had time to even sit down, when I saw her coming out of the back with a suitcase in her hand. She delivered her initial salvo, with the impact of a cannonball at close range. While I struggled to comprehend what had just happened, she had placed her suitcase by the door. I had just noticed there were three of them, and a hang-up bag, when her mouth opened and her secondary fusillade tore me apart. 

I knew things weren't good? I knew nothing of the kind! I thought things were great, to be honest. And trophy wife? Where did that come from? It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

"We'll talk later," she said, standing in front of me, her simple words sniper shots picking me off, every time I tried to recover.

I struggled to form a sentence, create coherency from my jumbled thoughts. All that escaped my lips, past the desolate dry wasteland that was now my mouth, was a single word, wrought with feeling.

"Elizabeth?"

"Sorry to spring it on you like this, Willie, but something came up. I'll be gone for two weeks. I'll tell you how things are going to be when I get back."

She'd tell me? Gone? Two weeks?

The door opened, and he walked into my house like he owned it. Taller, younger, fitter. Of course. It was my tortured destiny. He gave me a grin and a little wave, turned at the door, picked up the smallest suitcase and tucked it under his arm, then lifted the other two by the handle. "This is it, baby? Just these three?"

She turned to him and smiled, nodding. "That's all, Randy. I'll be out in a second."

She turned to me, her face taking on an exasperated expression as if somehow I was making this difficult, causing her trouble. "You'll be fine, Willie. You'll see. Things will be better, I promise." Then she leaned over and gave me a fucking kiss on the cheek!

My wife of five years turned and left. That was the end. Simple enough, I guess. I had no say in the matter, no input, nothing.

* * * *

I was wandering through the house. You wouldn't know she was gone. Her spoor was everywhere, little signs of where she'd been. Her long blonde hairs on the back of the seat cushions, a third of her purse still scattered across her dresser, where she'd swapped purses before leaving. Makeup, tissues, paper receipts, her miscellaneous daily detritus covered half the surface. Her side of the bathroom was its usual explosion of her war paint, camouflage, and artist tools. 

Her energy bars were on the kitchen counter, yoga mat by the door, keys with that stupid Winnie the Pooh keychain still hanging up in the hall. I turned on the TV and the Lifetime Channel came on.

It was a mistake. She wasn't gone. I must have misunderstood. Maybe it was a work emergency. She didn't say what I thought she did. She couldn't have. We were happy. Discussing where to go on our summer vacation just a couple of weeks ago. We'd made love on Saturday after going out to eat. There was the grocery list, on the refrigerator. 

I went to bed, setting both of our alarms. Woke up and looked for her beside me. Made the bed and neatened the room, for when she came home. I cooked breakfast for two, before going to work at the usual time, and called her phone to let her know what time I'd be home. No answer, but she often didn't answer. She was busy, that was it, so I left a message. I looked for her once I arrived home, checked to see if her clothing was back, if she was back. I made us dinner and wrapped her plate in saran wrap for later. I stayed up later than usual; I didn't want to miss her when she returned.

The following day I stuck to my schedule. I drove her car to work, still imbued with her smell. A reminder that she wasn't really gone. She couldn't be. Her oil change was overdue, so I took it to work and had the guys in the garage give it a full checkout and detail it.

Elizabeth was a beautiful woman. I was reminded of it every time I entered the building, looking at her likeness beaming down at me from our billboard. She was the face of the business. Such a pretty face.

I was working on autopilot but still went through the motions. I inspected the three latest vehicles and approved the repairs and upgrades before putting them in the warehouse. I confirmed the prices and read the advertising before they would go up on our website and Craigslist. The Lexus had 97,000 miles and was in perfect shape. We'd bite the bullet and put it on eBay cars. 

Mine was a small business, actually a dual business. On the left side of the warehouse, we purchased high-end cars at auction, refurbished and resold them. Usually higher mileage vehicles which we could pick up dirt cheap and turn over quickly, often financing ourselves after a down payment that covered our expenses. Amy worked the desk and handled all the computer stuff. Ralph and Jimmy worked sales on commission. The three guys in the garage performed our maintenance, detailing, and car repairs. For paint and major bodywork, we contracted out the work. Javier could do interiors, and all three could do basic auto repair.

For the most part, it was all about appearances. We worked over the car inside and out and made it look gorgeous. Spent a little more than our competitors, upgrading sound and navigation systems, reupholstering when necessary, fixing chrome and dings, cleaning the engine, that kind of stuff. It paid off. We were growing, and profitable.

On the other side of the warehouse were the HP LX800 Printer and the wrap and tint bays. I attend a lot of car auctions, and one day while inspecting a small fleet of business vehicles, I found the $200,000 printer and managed to pick it up, including a ton of HP latex inks and wrap material, for less than 40 grand. It was chancy, but that was the start of our Car Wrap business. It had turned into a good steady income stream and I was cross training the garage guys to be able to do wraps. For the moment, I just had Linda and Dave. They both worked part-time initially and were paid by the piece. It had turned into a full-time job for both of them after less than a year. Dave did the designs, and Linda did the install. She added the window tinting options with my permission. With her skills, applying the film was a piece of cake and she had Javier doing it within a week. Now, virtually all of our used vehicles went out with tinted windows.

I was updated on the latest, peeking into the two occupied bays, where we were doing wraps for some landscaping business. At $3000 apiece for a full wrap, they must be doing okay. Then again, car wraps are a pretty good investment. In a busy area, with a commercial vehicle, you can generate 30,000 to 70,000 views per day. That's a lot of free advertising after the initial investment. And it works. I know because my business truck was wrapped and we got calls off it.

As the day ended, I knew I was getting some odd looks from the people in the office, but honestly, I didn't care. I just needed to get through the day. Elizabeth would probably be home.

* * * *

I turned off my alarm and rolled out of bed. The other side was still empty. Three nights empty. I was tired, sleeping was becoming difficult. I made my way to the shower, and stood under the water, trying to wake up. I had barely stepped out when her alarm went off. 

It beeped and beeped, and beeped. I'd always hated her alarm. I woke to radio, letting the words slowly seep into my unconscious, dragging me back to reality. Her alarm was an ice pick to the brain. On, and on, and on, and on ... 

I marched into the bedroom, grabbed that damn radio, tore it out of the wall, and threw it into her closet. Fucking oversized closet, as big as a small bedroom, full of her crap. Bitch. Tens of thousands of dollars of her shit in there. I'd paid for all of them. And she left. Ungrateful slut!

I snapped, and when I was somewhat cogent, I could see I'd destroyed her closet, dresser, and half the bathroom. Her half. I was gasping for air, my hands and arms were bleeding, the fury barely contained. 

"God damn bitch! She'll tell me how things will be? The whore runs off with her fuck buddy, and she's gonna tell me how I'm supposed to handle it? Well, fuck her!"

I tore through the house, taking anything of hers and shoving it into industrial garbage bags, depositing each full one in the garage. Pictures she'd chosen, knickknacks she'd bought, hell, even the food that she ate, it went into the bags until I'd erased her from my home.

I was still stomping through the house, bagging her shit, when I heard the knocking at the front door. It opened, and Amy's voice carried back to the dining room where I was 'sanitizing' things.

"Damn it, Willie, how many times have I told you if you're not—Holy Shit! What happened!" she shrieked.

"Just doing a little necessary clean up," I explained. Amy had been with me from the start. From day one, longer that any of them, hell, longer than Elizabeth. She deserved to know.

"If this is cleaning up, I'd hate to have seen it before. What are we cleaning?" she asked, picking up one end of the garbage bag, and following me.

"Slut spoor."

"Slut spoor? I don't get it," she said.

"Any and all traces of the useless, lying, cheating, fornicating, adulterous slut that used to live here."

Next thing I knew, she had a hold of my arm, pulling at it, dragging me away from the china cabinet. "Stop, Willie. Talk to me. What happened? Where's E-Beth?"

"Fuck her, Amy. I don't need her. Don't need some syphilitic, parasitic, cheating, mendacious whore!"

She kept pulling at me, dragging me into the living room. "What happened? Where is she? You didn't do anything crazy, did ya, Willie? You didn't hurt her?"

"Hurt her? Hurt her?" I laughed. Okay, the laughter may have sounded a bit hysterical even to me. "She's the one who left. She's the one who wants out. That whore is the one off fucking 'Randy' for two weeks. Trying to tell me how it's gonna go. She's the liar, the cheat, the slut. I'm just the poor asshole that had no idea what was going on."

"That's why you've been walking around in a daze for two days."

"Fuck her. She doesn't get to tell me how it goes. No fucking way."

Amy grabbed my hand. "Stop Willie. Stop acting crazy, and tell me what the hell is going on here. Elizabeth left? She asked for a divorce?"

"Gone for two fuckin' weeks. Just walks in, says 'I'm leaving', then takes three packed bags and Randy, and says she'll be back in two weeks to tell me the details."

"She always was a high-maintenance selfish bitch, but it was pretty obvious she loved you, and you loved her. It's why we put up with her shit. It don't make a lot of sense."

"You didn't see Randy. Taller, younger, better hair, better body, dressed like he's on a fuckin' magazine cover. I got traded in, Amy. The cheating bitch traded me in on a newer model."

She calmed me down long enough to get the full story. I saw the pity in her eyes and felt the humiliation all over again. Amy pulled me in close and gave me a big hug.

Don't get me wrong, a hug was all it was. A symbol of support and affection, no more. Amy was a friend. A friend who understood what I was going through. I'd been there for her when her marriage went down in flames, and gave her a hand back up. She'd worked with me from the start, encouraged and supported me while I dated and eventually married the fucking, lying, backstabbing, adulterous cheater.

I waited for the inevitable "I told you so." Amy had encouraged me to draw up a prenup, even had her brother draft one for me. I said no. I didn't need one, I was in love, and what kind of way was that to start a new life?

Amy did nothing of the kind. She dragged me to the bedroom and told me to get cleaned up and dressed. I heard her on the phone, calling our office cleaning service and scheduling them to come in and take care of the mess I'd made. She re-bandaged my hands and arms, after the shoddy job I'd done.

By the time I was human again, she had dragged me out to her car, and we were headed down the road. 

"I really don't feel up to working," I told her. "I need you to take care of things for a few days."

She turned into Skinny Marie's Diner and parked the car. "No work, I promise, Boss. We've got bigger things to deal with." 

Over brunch, she told me how things were going to be. Damn. I'm glad she was on my side. She was scary.

An hour later we were in her brother Eric's Law office. Her sister Joy had joined us, as had Linda from the office. While waiting, Amy, Linda, and Joy had huddled together, whispering, their voices occasionally rising. They were obviously angry, and I was thankful it wasn't at me.

As soon as we were in the office, Joy's husband Eric was purely professional, providing insight into what was legal and what wasn't. Most of his questions were very specific, and he seemed to like our answers. In less than two hours, I knew that I'd completely lost control of the situation, and was once more thankful they were on my side.

I shouldn't have been surprised. Amy was always protective of me, and was more of a personal assistant and office manager, than a receptionist. Her sister was present both as my accountant, and to keep her informed, since her husband was involved.

By the time I left, the women were openly gloating, plotting the destruction of my cheating wife, and the scum sucking slime that she had left me for. 

* * * *

It was a lot of work. Expensive, too, but I'd rather spend it on revenge than give it to her as a reward for cheating on me. The auto wrap business was now officially in Linda's name. It was easy enough, and completely legal, according to our expert. Well, except for backdating the sale, and modifying the last few month's books a tad. I still was part of the company, as a minor shareholder, but my earnings were minimal.

That business was running full tilt, and three days before my cheating slut wife was to return, every car in our inventory was wrapped, as were the vehicles of all our employees. A company car was one of our benefits, and nobody complained about the new look. I'd taken all our disposable cash, and invested that into additional vehicles, all receiving the new look.

My 401K was emptied, as were my retirement IRAs, and the money used to purchase yet more vehicles, which were turned around and sold. The guys were working 12 hour days and the weekend. We even hired temporary help. It was expensive, but then again, it was only money. Money she wouldn't be able to get hold of.

My accountant may have helped me shelter a few dollars through creative thinking, since when this whole thing was concluded, I'd be starting over from scratch, and would need a nest egg. It amazes me how many places a smart accountant can hide money in a business like mine with so much cash flow. It was an education.

New ads were placed on Craigslist, the sales guys hopped on the phones, and within two days, every vehicle was sold. Not too surprising, when you were offering a sweetheart deal like ours. Half a year of $1000 a month payments, each payment waived if the new owner brought the vehicle in for free detailing and the new Car Wraps were still in place. If they weren't, the full payment was due. At the end of the abbreviated lease, you could walk away, make payments for another two years, or buy the car for a flat three-to-five grand typically. Basically, you were getting the car for less than half-price, just for acting as a moving billboard for six months.

Most of the sales were through Craigslist and existing customers, but there were a few I approached directly and was a little surprised that I wasn't turned down once. I guess I shouldn't have been too shocked; it's not every day you get a chance to own a luxury sedan, albeit used, for so little, with the only caveat you have to serve as a free billboard for a while. Still, I have to admit a couple of those were unexpected.

In addition to the car wraps, I even got custom wraps for my garage doors, at home and at the warehouse. Linda and her business were very busy for a week and a half.

That's when we started our new marketing campaign.

* * * *

It hadn't been difficult to figure out where she'd gone, and when she was likely to return. She'd charged the airfare to our credit card, and had taken vacation from her job. As had her co-worker Randy, I'd learned. I would deal with him later. Or perhaps I should say, the women would; they were still running the show.

One of the first things they'd insisted on was taking care of the finances. We weren't going to allow the bitch to use my money to pay for a fuck-cation with her boy-toy. Before the first week was over, the credit cards were canceled and the bank accounts were emptied. I'd removed the overdraft protection from our checking account, so she couldn't use that.


F6: Spreading the Word



She might have been pissed, but I wasn't going to hear about it. Her cellphone number was blocked on my iPhone, the office phones, and the home phone. She did call from another number once, but I wasn't picking up. Once I began listening to her ranting voicemail message, I deleted it and blocked that number as well.

The house loan was easier to get than I thought it would be. I didn't drain it, the house was mine from before the marriage, and I figured on keeping it. Still, the money was there to be used, and I did. 

On my accountant Joy's advice I paid my key workers their salaries six months in advance, pre-paid the lease on my building for three years - getting a substantial discount - paid my estimated taxes for the next three quarters, paid off a few equipment loans, purchased equipment and supplies inventory, and in general paid as many business bills in advance as I could. The idea was to both drain the coffers and to prepare for lean times ahead.

My remaining funds were invested in radio advertisement time, mostly in our number one morning show. A big chunk of that was to fund a new, exciting, morning contest. Amy's idea, but I supported it unabashedly.

There was a lot of discussion before I completed all the deals. I was a little surprised that they signed on so quickly. It turned out that they loved giving money away. My money. The morning that my evil soon-to-be-ex was supposed to return coincided with the new advertising campaign.

"Spot the FAWC, get a hundred bucks back!" was our catch-line. The line was delivered with an Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator accent, rhyming FAWC and 'back'. I know, it's a stretch.

My wife's face was plastered on over 40 vehicles. Each carried the same message. FAWC - fornicating, adulterous, whoring, cheater. Spot her and win big! Listen for the phrase that pays.

The first radio spot was an immediate success. The morning zoo was laughing at the whole scene.

"Are you a FAWC hawk? Text us a time-stamped picture of her in the next five minutes, and the first three winners will receive a hundred bucks!" I heard over the airwaves.

It was less than two minutes later before the talent came back on the radio. "That's it, we have our winners. Looks like she's at the municipal airport. Funny, she doesn't look all that happy." Rob, 'the Animal', laughed.

I heard from the neighbors - who by then were well aware of the situation - that she had shown up at our house, and shrieked hysterically when she saw the billboard we'd made of the garage door, with her face and the FAWC message. She pounded on the door for several minutes when her key wouldn't work. Of course, she'd had to arrive in a taxi. Her Lexus had been picked up at the airport, detailed, wrapped and sold. It was a business vehicle after all, just like her BMW.

Joan from across the street laughed when she told me how lover boy was in the midst of grabbing a rock to break a window. Joan had yelled out, "Smile for the camera!" while filming the whole debacle. She admitted she wasn't the only one with a camera out.

E-Beth had marched across the lawn, blistering our neighbor's ears, asking what the hell she thought she was doing.

"Filming a felony, I think," she had said.

"It's my house! I can break a window if I want to!"

"That's funny. Willie says it's his house, that you aren't even on the deed. That he owned it before you even met. He asked me to call 911 if you did anything to it."

That part wasn't exactly true. I did ask her to watch out for my loving wife's return, and that I'd be very appreciative if she could film any wrongdoings. I never mentioned anything about calling 911. Joan was very willing, since she was the proud owner of a 2002 Mercedes E-Class, with 117,000 miles that looked as good as new. Except for the picture of my wife's cheating face plastered on both sides. One of three FAWC wrapped cars in the neighborhood.

Hers cost me $3700 at auction and nearly two grand more to get it cleaned up. A great investment, when I saw the video of my wife's face when she saw it.

"What the hell is that!" she shrieked.

"My new car. Don't you like it?" Joan had asked, and I had it all on tape. Made me feel pretty good.

As luck would have it, Joan was listening to the radio, my wife standing almost in her driveway when the next promo came on. Joan shrieked and that was the end of the video. She was one of two people to call in, another neighbor being the other, and was ecstatic to be a winner of $100 for spotting the 'FAWC.'

I know, because I was listening to the morning crew. As was most of the office.

"Only two winners this time. Our FAWC and her boy-toy are standing in front of the home where she used to live. Used to being the operative words. You just gotta love the look on her face in this picture, standing in front of the garage door with her FAWC portrait on it. Stay tuned next hour for another chance to spot the FAWC, and get a hundred bucks back!"

Joan's intervention preserved my windows, and it was another hour before the ignorant, whoring cheat showed up at the business. Her boy-toy Randy had been relegated to chauffeur duty. His twelve-year-old Ford Taurus was quite a step down from my wife's previous ride. 

She marched into the office and was demanding to see me when the third and last spot for the day was announced over the radio. Lots of excited screaming ensued while my employees struggled to be among the first three to text in their photos of her.

"Would you stop that!" E-Beth shrieked while all the camera phones were held up, and the texting started.

"We have our winners!" I heard over the radio. "That was quick. The fornicating, adulterous—"

"Can we say fornicating over the air?" Bennie 'Big Bird' Thomas, asked.

"I don't see why not. We're not the ones fornicating behind our spouse's back," Rob replied. "As I was saying, the fornicating, adulterous, whoring, cheat was just spotted at Exclusive Autos down on third."

"Exclusive Autos, where the only thing better than the deal on your pre-owned car, is the way it will look in your driveway. Exclusive Autos," Bennie said, another $75 out of my pocket for the plug. It was definitely worth it.

Of course, by then, I'd already called my attorney, and he told me to delay her as long as we could.

It wasn't difficult. All Amy had to do was explain that I was out of the office, but was expected back any minute. I wasn't the kind of guy to make a liar out of my best employee, so I'd stepped out through my back door as soon as I'd heard the old ball and chain had made an appearance.

I walked around the building and noticed that Randy had decided to provide moral support by standing in the doorway behind my soon-to-be ex-wife. It only took me a minute to get a valve core remover out of the auto bay, and less than five minutes later, Randy's vehicle had two flat tires, on the side of the car facing away from the entrance, of course.

Once I saw my next expected visitor pull up, I ran back around the building and entered through my exterior office door. I barely made it to the front in time to see the fireworks.

"Elizabeth Wright?" the young lady asked, chewing on a piece of red licorice. She didn't look like she could be out of high-school.

"Jesus!" E-Beth shrieked. "What the hell do you want?"

"Are you Elizabeth Wright?" the girl asked again. She smiled and pulled a plastic bag of licorice out of her pocket, offering E-Beth one. I was a little surprised my extremely picky-eating wife hesitantly reached out and grabbed a piece, taking a bite of it. I'm guessing her days of picky eating were over; beggars can't be choosers. 

"Thanks. Yeah, I'm Elizabeth Wright, at least a little while longer," E-Beth said.

"Thank you." She put away the licorice and reached into her messenger bag, pulling out a white envelope, and checking the label, before handing it over. "You've been served." Then she took out her phone and snapped my wife's picture. 

"You little bitch!" E-Beth screamed after our visitor, before turning and stomping toward me.

"Can I help you, Miss? Interest you in a clean Cadillac perhaps?"

"Cut the shit, Willie. What the hell do you think you're doing? Where's our money, and why am I locked out of our house?"

Reluctant to hash out our business where customers might intrude, I silently turned and walked back to my office. E-Beth was not as quiet as she followed.

"Do you want to explain yourself?" she shouted, as I took a seat in my chair. The always efficient Amy closed the door on us, leaving Randy standing outside with a confused look on his face.

"Explain what? The papers in your hand should make everything clear," I said.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? You have no right—"

"Sit down and speak civilly, or I'll have you thrown out of here on your pretty little ass," I snapped.

Her face turned three different shades of red before she placed that aforementioned ass in the chair in front of my desk.

"Where's our money?" she said, through gritted teeth.

"My money, what's left of it, is in my bank account. I don't know what you've done with your money. You do have a job, don't you dear? After all these years, and no expenses, I imagine you must have a tidy sum saved up."

"You bastard. You know my money is for my needs. My clothing, hair, spa—"

"Lunches with your lovers, condoms, douches, lingerie, hotel rooms." Yes, I'd found her bank statements, and even itemized receipts from her abandoned purse.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, but the way her face turned white, I knew I'd gotten to her.

"How am I being ridiculous? You wanted a divorce, you're getting one. You're on your own."

"I never said I wanted a divorce!" she screamed.

That was a bit of a shock. I mean, she never said the word divorce, but she'd made her point pretty clear. "You said you were leaving me. I'm taking care of the details."

"Don't fuck with me, Willie. I'm not in the mood. I never said anything about a divorce, or leaving you for good. If you try to divorce me, I'll take you for everything. I'll destroy you! I swear I'll rip your nuts off."

"You'll get what you deserve," I said, giving her my best customer winning smile. "Every penny of it. It's all in your package."

She finally took note of the envelope she was holding. Three pages in she saw the list stating what she'd receive. "Is this a joke?"

"Not at all. You're entitled to half of everything we've amassed since our marriage. Unfortunately, I've had a lot of expenses in the last year."

"Eleven hundred dollars? You want to divorce me after five years, and you're offering me eleven hundred fucking dollars?"

I thought that was a good description. Fucking dollars. She'd fucked away everything.

"I rounded up. I figured you'd appreciate that."

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm not going to put up with this. No fucking way."

"By all means, hire an attorney. Have him contact mine. They should talk."

She was shaking she was so mad. I knew it must have taken a supreme effort for her to resist screaming again. After a minute of silence, she started up again.

"Don't be like this Willie. I gave you five good years and you know it. I'm sorry about the way I broke things to you, but everything happened so abruptly, I guess I was a little overwhelmed. I don't want a divorce, I just needed some changes. If you insist on divorcing me over a stupid little mistake, you don't have to be an ass about it. We could still be friends."

"No thanks. I have friends. Good friends. I don't need a slightly used whore."

That pretty face turned bright red. "You don't want to make this a pissing match, Willie. It'll get ugly, I promise. I'll take you for everything. Don't think I won't."

"Go for it. Do your best. Hire the best attorney you can, for whatever you have in your purse because you're not getting another penny from me until this is over."

"Willie!" she shouted. "I need my money. You locked me out of the fucking house and took my cars. My ATM and credit cards don't work. I don't have a fucking dime. I. Need. My. Money!"

"Elizabeth, dear. You have your money. You're just not getting any of mine. Maybe Randy can help you out. You're a beautiful woman. Getting to fuck you for two weeks should be worth something."

"You fucked me for five years. Pay me."

"I did. I'm done. But I'll tell you what. Give me a blowjob, and I'll give you a hundred bucks."

"A hundred bucks? I can't live on a hundred bucks!"

It amused me that she didn't argue about the blowjob, just the value.

"Alright, one-fifty, but not a penny more," I offered.

"Jesus, Willie! Men have offered me thousands to sleep with them. I never took them up on it, but I'm thinking maybe I should have."

Offered thousands? "Let me guess, ol' man Davidson?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "That old lech? He wanted it, but the best offer he ever came up with was a swig of his bourbon."

That I believed. Our neighbor was a dirty-old-man, but on his social security, I figured he couldn't have afforded someone his age, never mind my gorgeous betraying wife. "Fuck, it was that bastard Jerry, right? The guy from your office who moved to Atlanta."

She smirked at me. "Five thousand cash, he said, if I'd go for a weekend sail with him on his boat. And his wasn't the best offer. I turned him down."

"Maybe you shouldn't have. How much did good ol' Randy pay?"

She blushed again. It was incredible. Her face was like a stoplight. Turning red every few minutes. "It wasn't like that. He's just a friend."

Alright, I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Damn, you're stupid. You threw away your marriage for a friend? And turned down thousands of dollars from perfectly good clients?"

"I'm not a whore. I didn't ever cheat on you. I could have you know, lots of times, but I didn't."

"Until Randy?" I reminded her.

"That wasn't ... I mean, we didn't—"

"Use the Knights Inn three times in the two weeks prior to your announcement?"

She seemed to deflate, settling back in the chair. "It was a mistake, alright? I fucked up. I don't want a divorce, the kid's a loser. All he has going for him is a pretty face and a hard dick. It didn't take me more than a few days alone with him to figure that out. He's a fucking intern, for fuck's sake."

"It's a little late now, don't you think? You should have figured that out before you walked out on me. Before you cheated on me over and over again."

"Please, Willie. Don't do this. I was a good wife, wasn't I?"

"For five years and three months. You were a great wife. I'm not going to argue that."

"I screwed up. If you could see your way to forgiving me, I swear it won't happen again. I'll make it up to you. Whatever you want."

It was tempting. She was the most beautiful woman I knew. Seriously. Billboard beautiful. Pretty decent in bed, too. But she was also a liar and a cheat. As well as a heartless bitch for dumping on me the way she did.

"Sign the papers, and I'll give you your eleven hundred now. I'll make it an even fifteen hundred if you throw in a blowjob. The offer's good for the next five minutes."

"No way! I deserve a lot more than eleven hundred dollars."

I leaned across the desk, dropping my voice, making her lean toward me, giving me a pretty good view of her cleavage. She had great tits. "You might think you deserve more, but that's all you're going to get. I have a very good lawyer and an even better accountant. There is no money. The house is mortgaged to the hilt. My 401K is gone. I'm a minority owner in the company I once owned, and I'm collecting a paycheck that's less than yours. My inventory is all gone. Every car sold. There is nothing for you to take, Elizabeth, I made sure of that. All we have is debt."

Her eyes grew wide as I explained the situation. "You had more than twenty cars. Where's the money from that?"

"I didn't make any money. What little I did bring in went into an advertising campaign, which I suspect you're aware of now. You're bringing me a lot of attention. Now if only I had some cars to sell."

"Damn you, Willie. I want you to take those pictures down, now! You have no right—"

"Au contraire,  I have every right. You sold me those rights when you signed the modeling contract for the pictures we took for our main billboard, remember? You insisted on getting paid for it, and you did."

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, her face turning three different shades of red this time. I was fascinated. She closed her mouth, and I could see she was thinking. That was dangerous, for her. "What am I supposed to do now?" she said.

"You have a good job. You're just going to have to be a little more frugal."

"Frugal! I can't live on thirty-eight thousand a year," she whined.

"Lots of people do."

She quieted, obviously still thinking things over. She was in a bind. Not my problem.

She finally stood up. "You're full of shit, Willie. I'm not signing this. No fucking way. You may think you're going to screw me over, but we'll see about that. Before I'm done with you, I'll own this place and you'll be working for me. You fucked with the wrong woman."

"Have a nice day," I said, the last words lost when she slammed the door.

* * * *

For two days, I listened to the morning show, as my FAWC was spotted around town, looking a little worse for wear. I heard from Eric, my lawyer, that my soon to be ex-wife had found someone to represent her. I had no idea how she planned to pay him, maybe by spreading her legs. She was a beautiful woman.

The third day after her return, the phone calls started. I didn't pick up, but she left messages, lots of messages. I listened to them of course; I was interested in her state of mind. She was angry, accusatory, pissed at seeing her face plastered all over town, at having her picture taken by laughing strangers. 

Me, I was busy desperately trying to build up some more inventory. A minor victory had three cars in the shop, and my guys were working hard whipping them into shape.

Her calls grew more desperate as she learned she had nowhere to turn. I hadn't been hesitant to let all of our friends and family know exactly what was going on. Her little 'surprise,' running away with her lover and the way she broke the news. Most weren't in the least bit surprised. Several blamed me for spoiling her for so long.

They had a point.

Not that I was going to accept any of the blame for her outrageous behavior, but I had spoiled her.

Her sister Tara had reminded me of that as she drove off in my soon to be ex-wife's beloved BMW, wrapped with her older sibling's face. Her last comment to me was that I'd married the wrong sister. Maybe she was right.

I do have to admit I was feeling lonely. During the day, it wasn't bad, surrounded by my employees, most of whom I considered as much friends as anything else. But back at home, alone in that big house, it was different. I'd removed everything of hers, but that just left big empty places that reminded me of what I'd lost. 

I drank a couple of scotches, hoping it would dull the pain, went to bed and with any luck I hoped to get a few hours of sleep. Then my phone went off. I was about to turn it off, figuring it was Elizabeth again, but it wasn't her ring-tone. I looked at the phone and saw it was the alarm at the office. Someone had broken in.

It only took a few seconds to bring up the camera feeds. The outside main camera picked up an old Taurus I recognized, with good ol' Randy sitting on the hood reading what appeared to be a comic book. Unbelievable. I paged through the other camera tabs until I found her. My wife was in the office laundry room, naked. 

It was tempting to let things go, but I called off the cops. I was pretty sure she still had every right to be there, so it wouldn't do me much good to humiliate her just to be mean. I dressed, and fifteen minutes later I was watching her naked ass as she leaned over to move her clothes from the washer to the dryer.




F6: Spreading the Word



"What the hell are you doing, E-Beth?"

She shrieked, cursing when she kicked the dryer lid in her hurry to turn around. She held up a wet shirt over her chest as if I'd never seen her naked.

"Damn it, Willie! Don't sneak up on me like that."

"You should be damn glad it was me. The cops would have been here ten minutes ago if I hadn't called them."

She blushed, then turned and threw the last of her wet clothing into the dryer. "Sorry. I couldn't remember the code."

"You can't remember your fucking birthday?!"

She pouted. "Don't be mean to me Willie. I can't take it anymore, alright? Look at me. I'm doing laundry in the middle of the night in the office laundry room. I'm living out of a suitcase, and I don't even have enough money to go to a Laundromat."

She grabbed one of the office logo polos she'd pulled out of the dryer and pulled it on. It looked damn good on her, even if she looked a mess.

"What about your boy-toy? You can't do your laundry at his place?"

She laughed. "His place? He shares an apartment with two other guys and has to do the laundry in the basement. He doesn't have a nickel to his name. He spent every last penny he had on our stupid cruise. Hell, he borrowed the suit he brought. He had to get a loan from his roommate for gas until next payday."

I didn't especially feel sorry for her. She made her bed. It was her decision to run off with the loser.

"Willie?" her voice trembled, as she moved closer.

"What do you want, Elizabeth?" I asked, sighing.

"I want to come home."

"You don't have a home anymore. We're done. You made sure of that."

"I'm sorry, baby. I really am. Please don't do this." She tried to hug me, but I put my hand out and held her off.

"Damn it, Elizabeth. This was your idea, not mine. You're the one that left me. You're the one that decided to trade-up with your boy-toy. Live with it."

"Please, Willie. I know I screwed up. I was an idiot, Okay? But it was a mistake! A huge one, I'll admit it. I love you, Willie, not that stupid kid. I've always loved you, you know that. Can't you give me a break here? I gave you five great years, you know I did."

"Sorry, Elizabeth, but the answer is no. You burned this bridge to the ground. We're done. Sign the papers, so we can both move on."

"No! I won't! I know you still love me. I messed up but I'll—"

I turned away. "Lock up and turn out the lights when you leave."

"Willie!"

Alright, I'm a softy. I know it. Randy made sure he moved to the opposite side of his car as I walked out. For a big guy, he sure was a pussy. I reached into my wallet and pulled out a twenty. I crumbled it up and threw it at him. "For gas."

He scrambled after it. "Thanks, Mr. Wright. Uh, sorry about, uh, you know."

Yeah, I know.

* * * *

The entire office had the radios turned to the morning zoo, and we enjoyed listening to the attempts to hunt down the FAWC. It was costing me several hundred dollars a day, but the phones were ringing off the hook. Business was booming.

I had contacted a friend in the business and worked out a deal. He moved eight of his cars to my lot, and I would get 15% of the sales price. I had already sold two, so that was working out alright. I even sold one of the three cars I'd managed to acquire since the whole FAWC thing started. I desperately needed to get my hands on some more inventory.

I guess I should have expected it when the FAWC herself made another appearance at the office. Boy-toy was still driving her around, but trying to stay in the background. She marched in the building like she owned the place, and I barely had a warning from Amy, before Elizabeth was in my office. She looked better than she had the last time. It seemed like she'd made some effort to clean up. I had a pretty good idea how she intended to get her way. A leopard doesn't change its spots.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," I said, trying to be pleasant.

She was quiet for a long time. "Fifteen hundred?" She placed a manila envelope on the desk in front of her. I was pretty sure it was the same one she'd been handed the last time she was in the office.

It took a few moments for me to realize what she was talking about. Then it hit me. That was what I'd offered her to sign the papers, and to give me a blowjob. 

"Actually, that was a time sensitive offer, and it ended three days ago. But for the sake of the five years, I'm still willing to honor it."

Amy opened the door and peeked in on us. "Everything Okay, boss? She ran right by me. I can have the guys throw her out if you want."

I shook my head. "No, that won't be necessary. We do need to talk. I'll buzz you if I need anything."

She glared at my soon to be ex and closed the door quietly behind her.

I returned my attention to Elizabeth, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. She was playing with the lip of the envelope in front of her. 

"Can you throw in a car for me to use?" she suddenly blurted. "Something? Please don't make me go back to Randy. He's driving me fucking crazy."

Now I'm not a truly evil man. After the discussions with my team, I'd settled on a flat ten grand and a vehicle to pay her to get her out of my life. She did give me five excellent years, after all. I wanted her to suffer a little first, for the way she did me wrong. Four days of being the town FAWC went a long ways toward that. But it still wasn't enough.

"Ass, grass or gas. Nobody rides for free."

I was surprised to see a little grin. "How much ass?" she asked.

"How much car?"

"As much as I can get," she said.

"Why don't you sign the papers, and blow me, while I think about it?"

"You know my lawyer says I can get probably get these papers thrown out since I'm signing them under duress," she said, leaning over and flipping through the pages, initialing each one and signing twice.

"Give it your best shot," I answered, standing up and dropping trou.

She sighed, and pulled her hair back, twisting it into a bun she held in place with the pen. Then she was on her knees in front of me, earning her payoff.

"You always were a hell of a good cocksucker," I told her.

She looked up at me and pulled her mouth away while stroking my firm cock. "I am. I could continue to be if we could work our way around this. I'm sorry, Okay? I love you, Willie."

I tapped my cock head against her lips, and she sucked me in. "I'll think about it. I'm really pissed at you. You didn't have to do me like that. I was good to you. I didn't deserve it."

"Sowwy," she mumbled around my cock.

It had been a while, and I didn't last all that long. I wasn't worried though, I figured I'd be getting my rocks off pretty regularly.

I groaned and held her head while I came in her mouth. I know she didn't like to swallow, almost never did except on special occasions. She didn't fight it this time. When I was done, I pulled up my pants and offered her a water from my mini-fridge.

"I've got a sweet little Acura I managed to get my hands on. It still needs some clean up, but it drives great."

"How much would that be?" she asked.

"For the car?"

"What else are you offering, Willie?"

"I could probably get about six grand for the car as is. For the car you need to bring me proof that you're clean from the doctor, and it's yours for the low price of one night a week."

"One night of what?" she asked.

"One night of whatever I want. Per week. At any time you can return the car, or pay me what it's worth."

"You got any more deals I might consider?" 

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like a place to park it? Sleeping accommodations? Meals?" She was grinning as she said it. This wasn't turning out quite like I planned.

"We're getting divorced, E-Beth. You cheated on me. You broke my heart. You treated me like dirt, the way you left me."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I really am. I blew it. It was the stupidest thing I ever did. I don't know how I got caught up in it, but I wish to God I never did." The little hussy started unbuttoning her shirt. "It takes months for a divorce to go through. We'll still be married for several months. Take me in, Willie. Take me in, and I'll pay what you want." Her breasts were bare by the time she finished.

"I don't want a cheating whore living with me."

She pouted, as she unzipped her skirt. By the time she got to me, she was wearing only panties and heels. "Never again. So long as I'm under your roof, I swear I'll only be yours, Willie. I learned my lesson. Give me a chance. I'm not a whore, well, not for anyone but you. I'll never cheat again."

"We're getting a divorce."

"So divorce me. Just don't kick me out. Please, Willie?" She dropped to her knees and started unbuckling my pants again.

"It's not that easy," I said. But I didn't stop her.

"Sit, get comfortable, I'll make this a good one. Just think about it, Okay?"

She was certainly capable of making it a good one. She had me hard in less than a minute. "You can fuck me if you want. I'd like that."

"Not a chance. I have no idea where you or Randy have been."

She pouted, then went back to sucking.

I was feeling pretty good, when Amy knocked and opened the door. When she saw what was going on, she entered the room and closed the door behind her. "Damn it, Willie! We talked about this! You are not taking her back."

"I haven't decided," I explained, grabbing E-Beth's bun, and pushing her back down on my cock before she could argue.

"No. No way. She doesn't deserve you."

I sighed, as E-Beth did her best to orally convince me. "I know. But she did sign the papers, and it's going to be months before the divorce is official."

"Damn it, Willie! She's a cheat and she did you wrong. Have you forgotten?"

"No, I haven't forgotten, but she is an amazing cocksucker and a pretty good lay."

Amy threw up her hands in disgust. "Just tell me that you're not going to let her off scot-free. Get the damn divorce. If you want to keep her as a live-in whore, that's fine, but I don't want to have to go through all this shit again. Hell, the whole damn city knows she's a cheater now. Do you want to live with that?"

Amy had a good point. The wraps were done. It had cost me a ton of money to get even, and I was thinking about keeping the slut around. Then the bitch deep-throated me, and I groaned.

"Fuck. You are an idiot, boss. She ain't worth it," Amy said.

She was right. I am an idiot. Elizabeth wasn't worth it. But what was it that Shakespeare said about the quality of mercy? And wasn't the Bible big on forgiveness?

The pretty little cocksucker was looking up at me, her gorgeous eyes begging for another chance. 

Ignoring Amy for the moment, I looked down at my wife. "I was angry. I pretty much destroyed most of your stuff."

She kept sucking and shrugged. She was taking that better than I thought she would. My lawyer had told me that I'd have to replace it if she put up a stink.

"You're not sleeping in my bed. You'd be stuck in the guestroom."

Somehow she nodded, without missing a beat.

"Willie, think about what you're doing," Amy pleaded.

I tilted my wife's head back, locking eyes with her. "I'm not fucking you until you prove you're clean."

E-Beth looked over at the desk and pointed at her purse. I handed it to her. She kept sucking while she blindly felt around, finally holding up a strip of three rubbers.

Amy looked ready to explode. "God damn it, Willie! She's a FAWC remember? Fornicating, Adulterous, Whoring, Cheat!" She was still arguing her case, standing right beside me, watching my wife suck my cock.

I was surprised when she knelt down beside E-Beth, grabbing her head, and moving her up and down my cock faster and deeper. "Christ, E-Beth, if you're gonna do it, do it right. You are such a selfish bitch!"

Hell, I thought she'd been doing a pretty good job.

Amy looked up at me, easing up on E-Beth. "If she fucks around on you again, I'm gonna just have her killed. She's not worth the trouble and it's a hell of a lot cheaper."

"That's fine," I said. "If she fucks around again, she deserves it." It was difficult getting the words out, I was getting close.

Amy got in E-Beth's face, inches from my cock. It was kind of exciting. "I'm serious. Don't make me do it. If the idiot keeps you around, you better be the best fucking personal slut in the world. Otherwise, at the least, you'll be the ugliest. You don't want to know what a vial of acid could do to that pretty face of yours. And I'll do it too."

"Coming," I groaned.

That damn woman of mine pulled off my cock, stroking me, making me come on her face, with one shot directed at Amy.

"Willie!" Amy squealed.

"Sorry," I said.

"What the fuck, Willie? On my face?" Amy snapped. 

"Let me get that," E-Beth said, grinning as she licked my spunk off of Amy's cheek.

I don't know if it was out of shock, but Amy held still while E-Beth licked her. My wife, at least for the moment, even went so far as to give my assistant a quick kiss. "I won't mess up again," she said, wiping her face with one finger she proceeded to suck clean. "He gives me another chance, I swear he won't regret it."

Amy sat back and sighed, running her finger down E-Beth's cheek, and feeding her my cum. "I mean it, E-Beth. Don't try me. Don't you dare fuck it up."

Me, I sat there watching, stunned at the outcome. I did feel a little awkward sitting there with my dick hanging out, Amy only inches away.

E-Beth pouted, her hand stroking my cock. "I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the shed, Amy. I'm not smart like you. But I'm not stupid enough to fuck up twice. I can learn. I had a great thing, and I let some smooth talking jerk and some misguided friends fuck my life up. I love Willie. I really do. You know I do. I don't care what he does; I'm not going to ever fuck around again. I just had a brain fart."

Amy rolled her eyes. "A brain fart? You dumped him without warning and ran off for a two-week sleepover with some good-looking kid. That's not how a loving wife behaves. He deserves better."

I saw the tears start, and I have to admit, it didn't make me as happy as I thought it would. Not nearly as happy as the blowjob made me.

Elizabeth sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I know, and I'm paying the price. All our friends are pissed off at me. Even my family. I'm a laughing stock. I lost my job, Amy. My husband's divorcing me. I don't have a pot to piss in, and I'm stuck with that brainless dick out there driving me around, and trying to stick his thing in me all the time. I've got nothing, and he's got everything. The house, the business, all our money. All our friends are on his side, and he's got you. Ain't I being punished enough?"

I almost crapped when Amy reached up and grabbed my cock, stroking me along with E-Beth.

"No. Not nearly enough. You don't know what it was like for him. You destroyed him. I had to pick up the pieces. Now you think you can just come waltzing back? Besides, I thought you wanted your boy to stick his thing in you all the time."

E-Beth shook her head. "Not hardly. I liked the compliments and the attention. I missed that, Willie's always working, and I guess I just got bored. I figured what's good for the goose and all. It wasn't about sex. God knows it couldn't be, not with Randy. The boy's hopeless."

"Jesus, E-Beth! Maybe you should have thought about that before you asked for a divorce, and ran off with the guy!" Amy snapped. 

I was staying out of it. Although I did enjoy the attention my cock was getting.

"Please, Amy? I'm sorry. I never said I wanted a divorce. I love him. I only wanted things to be different. You can still be his office wife. I won't interfere, God knows I owe him that much." Elizabeth looked over at where Amy's hand was on my cock.

I don't know if Amy didn't realize what she was doing or what. She pulled her hand away like I was on fire. "Oh God, E-Beth! You don't think ... me and Willie? ... we didn't - we haven't - not that ..."

"Oh, come on, Amy! Everyone knows you're in love with him. Don't tell me that you two aren't doing it. I'm not that stupid."

Amy was still spluttering when I reached down and patted E-Beth's head. "No. Not once. I've never cheated on you, E-Beth. How could you even think I would?"

She looked up at me angrily, her grip on my cock a little too tight. I watched her forehead unfurl, and the hardness in her eyes fade. In only a few moments, she'd gone from fury to shock, then to shame. "Oh, God," she groaned, glancing over at Amy. "I've really fucked this up, haven't I?"

I suddenly felt awkward, bare-assed in front of the two women, my cock half-hard, and gripped in my wife's hand. I tried to pry her fingers away and she cried out, clutching at me. "No!" she sobbed, then tried to swallow my cock whole.

She was crying and sobbing around my cock. Admittedly it was an interesting experience, but not as exciting as it might sound. I tried to calm her, by stroking her hair, but it didn't seem to help.

Amy scooted closer, stroking E-Beth's back. "Why would you think that Willie and me, that we were involved?"

E-Beth shook her head and kept her mouth glued to me.

Amy tugged at her shoulder. "Talk to me, E-Beth. He's not going anywhere. What were you thinking?"

E-Beth kept shaking her head, which I admit was kind of cool to watch, my cock pushing out her cheeks from side-to-side each time she turned. 

"We didn't. I swear," Amy told her, speaking softly, her face only inches away from the action. "Not once, not even close."

My wife pulled away and threw her arms around my assistant, sobbing. "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry," she kept repeating. Of course the way she did it had Amy pushed back against me, my cock tapping on her cheek. She glared at me and pushed my cock away like I did it on purpose.

When Elizabeth finally settled down, it all came out, like a dam bursting. She clung to my leg, alternating looking at me and Amy, while her hand unerringly sought out my cock again, like some kind of security blanket.

We heard it all. All of her concerns, which she'd never once mentioned. All the time I spent with Amy, how I talked about her all the time, how she sometimes traveled with me for my buying expeditions, how we were always so close, touching each other, laughing, sharing jokes. All the time I spent with Amy after her divorce. The comments from her friends, the innuendo, the outright claims of my infidelity.

It sounded bad, I'll admit it. If only she'd said something, confronted me. I could have explained things; at least I think I could. Amy was my right hand, I depended on her, I'd known her forever, she was a close friend. 

Amy was quiet, through it all.

E-Beth was calm, pressing her face against my hard cock, which she'd managed to hang onto during her entire monolog. She gazed at Amy, quiet, while she stroked me. "You love him, it's obvious. What was I supposed to think?"

I think I was surprised that Amy didn't deny it. "You should have trusted him. Both him and me. He loves you, not me. I would never interfere in his happiness. Never."

Elizabeth looked up at me, then pressed her lips against my shaft. "You really never, I mean, you didn't ..."

"No, baby. You should have talked to me. Amy's my friend, my assistant, my go-to girl, but that's all," I said.

I was surprised to see her pout. "That's pretty mean, Willie. All these years, you've led her on, knowing how she feels about you."

"I didn't lead her on. I didn't know!" I argued.

Amy pushed my leg open, and scooted in closer, resting her head on my inner thigh, facing my wife. I could feel her breath on my balls. I liked it.

"He didn't know, E-Beth. I'd never let him. He would have pushed me away, and I couldn't stand that. I couldn't let him know."

"But it's so obvious!" Elizabeth said.

Amy shook her head. "He's a man. And he was in love with you. It was always you. Then you had to go and hurt him like that. I wanted to kill you. Rip your fake blonde hair out by the roots, one-by-one."




F6: Spreading the Word



"It's not fake," Elizabeth said.

"Bitch. Makes me hate you even more."

Then Elizabeth smiled. "Help me, Amy. Make him keep me, and you really can be his office wife."

Amy shook her head, her hair tickling my thigh. "Why would I help you? You hurt him. And if he dumps you, then I'll get my shot."

"He loves me. Even now, after all my screw ups, he loves me. You know he does. And you know I love him and always have. We can share. Hell, I thought I was sharing for five years," Elizabeth said. Then she turned her head, and licked the length of my shaft, watching Amy the whole time. 

"He doesn't love you anymore. He's divorcing you," Amy said.

Elizabeth looked up at me and sucked my cock, her head slowly moving up and down. "I really am sorry, Willie. You're not really going to divorce me are you?"

"Absolutely," I said.

She pouted, then sucked me again for a bit, before starting in again. "But you'll let me stay with you, at least for now? That's what you said, right? I signed the papers, and you said you'd keep me."

"Don't do it, Willie," Amy said. Then to my surprise she shouldered E-Beth out of the way, and sucked my cock, eyes glued to mine.

Elizabeth looked up at me and smiled. Then she had her hand in Amy's hair, pushing her down my shaft. "Take care of my man, office wife. I'll share him with you. But I'm not giving him up to you, or anybody else. He's mine."

Amy sucked me like she was on a mission, which I guess she was. She looked up at me, watching my reaction. I brushed her hair back, so I could see her better. "I never knew, Amy. I'm sorry."

E-Beth moved behind her, hugging her. "Let's not fight about this, Amy. You know I make him happy. I fucked up big time, but you know he'll forgive me. He loves me. And I love him. We can love you too. I swear as God is my witness, it'll be perfect."

Amy sucked, E-Beth clung to her, whispering in her ear, caressing her, and to my further amazement, undressing her. The girl had nice titties. Big ol' nipples standing tall. She moaned around my cock when my wife played with them.

"Gonna come," I groaned, as much from the view as from Amy's efforts.

Amy didn't slow down a bit and moaned as I filled her mouth. When she pulled away, blushing so sweetly, E-Beth grabbed her head and kissed her on the lips hard. That was damn near enough to get me up again.

I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the view. I didn't expect to see Amy respond to Elizabeth as much as she did, but by the end, it looked like she was the one doing the kissing. 

When they parted, it was Amy who looked up at me first, blushing. "Sorry, Boss. I didn't mean to get carried away."

I laughed, and slid off my chair, dropping to my knees between the two of them. I gave Amy a big hug, and a kiss. "No apologies necessary, office wife."

She looked over at E-Beth and back to me. "You're gonna keep her, aren't you? After all that."

All I could do was shrug. "I'm divorcing her slutty cheating ass. Then I guess I'll keep her until she gives me one reason not to. One more screw-up and she's out of there."

"Why?" Amy asked.

"She's right. I love the stupid little slut. I'll give her one more chance. It's probably an idiotic thing to do, but I'm miserable without her." I glanced over and E-Beth was absolutely glowing.

"Me too, Willie. I hate what I've done, how I've messed things up. I swear if you give me another chance, I'll never do it again," Elizabeth said.

She stood, and gave me a kiss. Then I watched, stunned as she pushed Amy's head back into my lap. "Take care of him office wife. Take good care of him, he deserves better than how I treated him." She started to dress, while Amy looked up at me and started sucking my cock. Again. Fucking four in a row, it was a banner day. Even after three weeks of doing without, I suspected her efforts were going to be futile.

I enjoyed watching E-Beth. She was damn near as sexy putting her clothing on as she was taking them off. She leaned down and whispered something to Amy, before stealing another kiss from me. "I'm gonna have the guys get my car ready. The BMW, you said?"

"The Acura," I replied, stroking Amy's hair as I slowly stiffened for her.

E-Beth pouted but nodded. "Alright, Willie. Thank you. Now I've got to get rid of Randy. Fuck, he gets on my nerves. What the hell was I thinking?" were the last words I heard, as she exited the office.

"You don't have to do that, Amy," I said to my new office cocksucker. She'd done an amazing job of getting me even partially hard. Something I wouldn't have imagined possible.

She gave me a last couple of firm sucks, then stood, slipping off her skirt and panties. "I do have to, Boss. I am your office wife, after all, aren't I?"

Before I could answer, she had straddled me and was lowering herself onto my cock. Just the idea of what was happening managed to put a little steel into the worn out appendage. I groaned, feeling the first new pussy in years. Damn, it felt good.

"You didn't answer, Boss. Am I your office wife? To have and to fuck, for better or worse?" She was slowly working her way up and down my cock, driving me crazy. 

I reached up and grabbed her breasts, giving them a squeeze. "It's a hell of an offer, Amy. But how does it work? It doesn't seem fair to you."

She grinned and plastered a big wet kiss on me. "Seems pretty simple to me. It's what we've always been, with sex thrown in. No more lonely hotel rooms on the road either. Nine-to-five, you are mine mister. That and anytime we're traveling. Mine, got it?"

It was difficult to reply. Between the sex and the unexpected turn of events, I was stunned silent.

She pouted. "It's the sex, isn't it? I'm not as good as her. I'll get better, Willie. I will, I swear. Nobody will try harder."

I hugged her, pulling her down onto my cock, filling her. I kissed her. "The sex is wonderful, Amy. You're the greatest. You know that. I've always loved you, just not ... loved you. I couldn't have done any of this without you."

She slowly grinned and started grinding on me. It felt incredible. "I know, Boss. And I've always loved you. Now I just get to show it a little better. Tell me I'm your office wife. Tell me!"

I gave her another long kiss, then grabbed her hips, lifting her a little so I could fuck her a little more firmly. "You are mine, Amy. My office wife. Nothing would make me happier."

She squealed sweetly, bouncing up and down on my cock. "Don't you let her talk you out of the divorce, boss. You can keep her, but I won't let you marry her. You understand?"

"Perfectly," I said.

"Good. We're not going to let her get away with shit anymore. You got that?"

"Got it."

After that, we were quiet while she demonstrated the benefit of having my very own office wife. The woman was unreal. 

We were still going at it, although I'd moved her onto my desk, and was enjoying watching her tits shake while I plowed her. She had a nice body. Cute face. Great tits. Admittedly, she was not even on the same scale as E-Beth in the looks category, but she was a damn fine fuck. And an incredible friend.

E-Beth walked in on us, without knocking of course. That was never my wife's style. She smiled and closed the door behind her, before walking over and taking up position behind me, caressing my back, and kissing my neck. "She's a little hottie," E-Beth whispered. "I had no idea."

I reached back for her and pulled her around so I could kiss her while fucking Amy. It was a wonderfully sexy, decadent thing to do. "Suck me, E-Beth."

She looked shocked. "Willie? Now? After you've been in her?"

I glared at her. I might be taking her back, but things were going to be different. "Don't make me tell you again, Elizabeth. Get on your damn knees and suck me."

I guess she realized I was serious. She dropped to her knees, her head pressed against Amy's thigh. I pulled my cock out of my pretty little office assistant and offered it to my wife. She opened her mouth and accepted it without a complaint. I'll admit it made me feel a little better about things, watching her.

Not more than a minute passed before I thanked her, and slid my cock back into Amy, who moaned deliciously. "Now kiss me, E-Beth. Kiss me, and thank me."

She scrambled to her feet, threw her arms around my neck, almost dislodging me, and kissed me like her life depended on it. When she was done, she hugged me. "Thank you, Willie. I know I don't deserve it. I love you, baby, and I'm gonna make you happy. You want me to suck your cock? You just say when and where."

That was certainly a new attitude. I wasn't sure it would stick, but then again, if it didn't, I had ways to remind her. She was my slut now. "Now, here."

Elizabeth smiled, reached down, and pulled my cock out of Amy. She leaned over and sucked it, and did a damn good job of it, before pulling away, and feeding my cock back into my assistant, who seemed to be enjoying the whole scenario.

"Do you believe me now?" E-Beth said. "I mean it, Willie. Anytime, anywhere."

She kissed me again, then moved behind me, hugging and kissing on me.

I didn't know how much longer I could last, but I never wanted it to end. I also knew there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of my getting hard again for hours.

"Willie?" E-Beth purred.

"Mmmhmm?" I moaned, concentrating on the feeling around my cock.

"Can I have the keys to the house, and a little money? I want to go home and clean up. I'm a mess. Then I thought I could do something special for us when you got home," she said.

"Just ... a ... minute," I managed to groan.

Amy lifted her head up off the desk and looked our way. "Bottom left drawer of my desk. Metal box. Get it."

I had Amy on her side, still plowing her, carefully considering her offer to switch holes. It was tempting, but I thought I'd save it for a better time. I was getting too close and was afraid I'd lose it before I was all the way in her ass.

Elizabeth returned with the metal box. Amy had a little difficulty with the combination, while I was bouncing her along the desk. She eventually got it open and counted out three hundred dollar bills. She put the money in E-Beth's hand, then pulled out a copy of my keys. She always had a copy with her, but I was a little surprised to see she had another set in the petty-cash box.

E-Beth, took the keys, then leaned over and kissed Amy. And kissed her. Damn that was hot. I was getting close and hearing Amy's moan and feeling her trembling while she came, pushed me over the top. With a roar I slammed my cock home and came with her.

I was still trying to catch my breath, when I got another kiss from E-Beth. "I'm gonna go now. I'll see you at home." She gave a surprised Amy a quick kiss. "Be good," she said. 

At the door, she turned. "And Willie?"

I had managed to collapse back in my chair, my sexy little assistant still splayed naked across the top of my desk. "Yes, baby?"

"Get my face off of those damn cars. I don't care how you do it but fix that. I fucked up, but that was totally uncalled for."

I imagine I didn't look too happy. It was called for. She should be damn happy that was all I did. Before I could answer, her tone changed.

"Please, Willie? You're never going to be able to really forgive me, if you have to see that every day."

Amy was slowly crawling off my desk. "I'll take care of it E-Beth. But don't be bitching about what was called for, or not. Even if he's taking you back, I'm still pissed."

Elizabeth nodded. "I know. Sorry. I just can't stand it, you know?"

Amy had one hand clutching her pussy, while she dug through her purse. "I'll take care of it. This time," she said.

"Okay, thanks. I really am sorry." Then she turned and left us alone.

Amy was trying to get dressed, and I was just sorry I was down for the count. "Well, that wasn't how I saw things working out," I admitted.

She turned to me grinning. "I hope you're not complaining."

"No! No way! I'm just surprised."

"You're not backing out now, are you, office hubby? You're mine now, you understand that, right?"

I nodded quickly. 

She finished putting on her bra, and I was sad to see her put those pretty titties away. "I've got work to do. You need to find us some cars. Lots of them. Alright, Boss?"

"Alright."

She buttoned her blouse, then gave me a quick kiss. "Let's keep it private. Love you, Willie. We're gonna have a lot of fun. And I'm getting a raise."

I chuckled, pulling her back for a longer kiss before letting her go. "You deserve it. And yes, I think we're going to have a lot of fun.

* * * *

We did have a lot of fun. In a little over two months, I was officially divorced, but it didn't change anything at home or at work, except for the better. Elizabeth got tested clean, and within three days, the two women were exhausting me. Which, in my opinion, was a good thing.

I put ten grand in an account for Elizabeth, as I'd intended to all along. That and twelve hundred cash (Fifteen hundred minus the three hundred from petty cash) so she could buy a few things. I really had made a mess of her clothing. She was surprisingly good about it, and modeled her new outfits for me, which less-surprisingly ended up with the new clothing on the ground, and my hard cock back inside of her. Her new five hundred dollar a week household budget was a lot less than she was used to, but I think she appreciated it a lot more than she ever had before.

Amy was right. We needed a lot of cars. When we switched out the FAWC auto wraps, for business advertisements, the phones rang off the hook. I had my guys working crazy hours to get the cars I was finding ready. My business expenses were near zero, and the profit off every car we sold got rolled back into more inventory and repairs.

In our need, I had to search longer and travel further for a lot of them. With Amy at my side, and in my bed, the trips were more fun than they'd ever been. More successful, too.

Elizabeth hadn't changed much. She had to find a new job, but that was easier than I thought it would be. She even managed to get a raise out of it. She was still very penitent, and I milked it for all I could. She was less forgiving to her family, three of whom had gone for the car deal. She was extremely pissed that I'd given her beloved BMW to her sister, and that she'd accepted it.

That got pretty ugly, and finally, to resolve the situation, I convinced her sister to give the BMW back and accept a cherry 2006 Audi, no wrap, completely free. Which of course caused another ruckus, and had me removing the advertising wraps from her Mom's low-mileage Cadillac and her brother's Lexus, detailing them, and canceling any future payments on them. I guess it was a small price to pay to keep peace in the family. 

Six months after the fiasco, honestly, I couldn't have been happier. My business was doing twice the volume we ever had, the car wrap deals were turning over, breaking about 50-50, between people returning the cars, and opting to keep them. Amy came up with a new deal, where for another year of carrying the advertising wrap they got the cars with no payments. There was no doubt that the advertising was working wonders, for both sides of our business. Quite a few took up the offer.

The sex with Amy and E-Beth had finally settled down to simply extraordinary, from coming close to killing me. They were good friends, which I'd never expected, and managed to run my life quite efficiently. There were no torrid threesomes, and Amy never moved in. They kept that part of our lives separate. Amy was my office wife, and E-Beth was my home wife, or ex-wife, I should say. 

I was thinking life couldn't get much better, when I came home to find Randy, yes that Randy, in the driveway, wearing nothing but shorts and sandals, and looking sickeningly fit, washing E-Beth's car.

I was stunned, but he just waved his sponge and smiled. "Hey, Mr. Wright." Then he went back to washing.

My heart was beating madly as I entered the house, fearing the worst. E-Beth was in the kitchen and called out as I shut the door. "I'm making a roast. Go change, I've got a surprise for you."

Surprise my ass. I walked into the kitchen, and she looked up. She dropped the roast pan when she saw my face. "What's wrong? I thought you liked roast? We can have something else."

"What the hell is Randy doing here?" I asked.

I could swear it looked like she'd been saved from drowning. "Is that why you looked like you were going to explode? Randy? Is that all?"

I counted to ten, trying to calm myself. "Why. Is. He. Here?"

She was bent over trying to pick up the mess on the floor, her blouse billowing, showing me a lot of cleavage. "It's Thursday, honey."

10 ... 9 ... 8 ... 7 ... 6 ... 5-4-321. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"Thursdays he washes the cars and does any small jobs I have for him. You know that."

"No, Elizabeth. I don't know that."

She looked confused. "I ... I'm sure I told you. I know I did. You said it was Ok to get a handyman. He lost his job after our, uh, mistake. So he's doing odd jobs now. He's really good."

"Really? How good is he, Elizabeth?"

Her confusion took a few moments to morph into anger. "Willie! I can't believe you! You don't think that I would do anything with him, do you? With Randy? That's horrible!"

"It didn't stop you before, did it?"

"Don't be mean to me!" she shouted. "I didn't do anything wrong. I can't believe you'd think I'd do anything with Randy. Geez!"

Maybe I'm an idiot. I believed her. I turned and picked up the phone, hit speed-dial three, and handed it to her. "Talk to Amy. I'm going to go change."

"Willie! ... uh, hi Amy. Willie said I had to ..."

After a shower and change, I looked out the window and good ol' Randy was hand waxing my car. Doing a pretty good job of it, from the looks of things. I walked downstairs to find Elizabeth seated on the couch, talking to Amy, drinking her Diet Cherry Coke, and looking miserable. I felt kind of bad, to be honest. God only knows why. I mean ... Randy?

She looked up at me, and pouted, her bottom lip trembling as she passed me the phone. I sat down and she hopped up. "Amy?"

"You need to chill out, boss."

"Chill out? Did she tell you what's going on? Fucking boy-toy Randy is out front waxing my fucking car!"

"So what's the big deal? You know he's not waxing E-Beth."

"And just how do I know that?"

"Oh, come on. You can't be serious. You know that dopey girl loves you. She may not always think straight, and yeah, she screws up a lot, but she loves you like nobody's business. She'd never cheat on you again. Stop being mean to her." 

"So you think this is right, that I come home and find a half-naked ex-fuck-buddy working in the driveway?"

 "Stop. I don't think it's right. I think it's E-Beth being E-Beth. The kid needed a job. She gave him one. As far as she's concerned the past is the past, and he doesn't matter. I hope to God you weren't mean to Randy, that would be like kicking a puppy!" 

"I didn't say anything to him."

I heard her sigh on the other end of the phone.  "Listen, Boss. She messed up. You've gotta let it go. That's your E-Beth we're talking about. Do you honestly believe she'd cheat on you? With Randy? And then have him wash her car? Really?" 

When she put it that way, it did sound kind of ridiculous. "I guess not, but seeing him there, at my house, nothing but shorts and shoes on, what was I supposed to think?"

She chuckled before answering. "Uh, maybe that your wife doesn't always think things out? C'mon, honey, give her the benefit of the doubt, please? You've gotta cool off and take it easy. You already ruined her big surprise. Nothing's going on with Randy, alright? Shit, you should be gloating. You got the girl, girls for that matter, and he's washing your fucking car. Now go make up with your woman before you piss me off too." 




F6: Spreading the Word



Well, that didn't go quite like I expected. I looked up and found E-Beth holding out my evening drink. "Just like you like it, shaken, not stirred."

I wanted to laugh. That's my Elizabeth. Somehow convinced that I prefer my Glenfiddich on the rocks, shaken, not stirred. I accepted the drink, and she sat next to me. "I'm sorry, Willie. I guess I wasn't thinking right. I didn't think you'd care about Randy working for us, but Amy says that most guys would. Since he and me, we, well, you know. I swear I thought I told you. Don't be mad."

I put my drink down and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry I got upset. It just brought up some old bad thoughts. I know you wouldn't mess with him. It was a surprise to see him here. How long has he been working for us on Thursdays?"

"I guess about two months. I normally don't have that much for him to do, so he's usually gone a little after lunch."

"Do I want to know why he's still here?" I asked.

She grinned. Then frowned. All of her emotions running over her face, as always. "It was part of your surprise, but I ruined dinner."

"Do you want to go out to eat, or would you like to order in?"

"Can I tell you my surprise first? Then you can decide."

"Alright. What's this big surprise?"

She smiled, and hopped up, reaching her hand out to me. "Come on."

I let her drag me by the hand across the house, to the guest room. She flung open the door. "Ta-da!"

All I saw was an empty room. A pink, empty room. Pepto-Bismol pink.

"Uh ... it looks ... pink?"

Her look of joy dissipated. "You're not happy?"

It only took me a few foolish seconds to stop and think like my E-Beth. "You ... you're pregnant?"

She nodded timorously. "I didn't think it would happen this quick. I mean, I just went off the pill a few weeks ago."

"Pregnant?"

"Yep. Doctor even said so. Please tell me you're not mad. We can change the color; I'm just hoping it's a girl."

I swept her up in my arms and gave her a big hug. "I'm not mad, silly girl. So this is why Randy's still here?"

She giggled while I hugged her. "He moved all the furniture to the basement and helped me paint. He's tall so he could do all the high stuff. That's Ok, right?"

"Honey, that's wonderful. God, I love you."

She grinned and gave me a kiss. "I know, silly. Did you like your surprise?"

"I love my surprise."

"Good. Then where are you taking me for dinner?"

* * * * 

So yes, I got married. Again. Couldn't have my child, or children, growing up in a home like that. As for Amy, she was my office wife for six years, until she fell madly in love with a client. The guy is nice, we like him. The kids call him Uncle Mike. He knows about our history and is amazingly cool with it. He doesn't let her go on trips with me. But they watch the kids when Elizabeth joins me. E-Beth doesn't work anymore. Don't let her hear me saying that. She swears she works harder than she ever did taking care of our family.

Randy does a hell of a hand-polish. Seriously, he's like the Michelangelo of car detailing. He works for me full-time. Has since about a month after my surprise. Call me stupid, but I'd rather have him working where I know where he is, rather than at the house. Or at least that was my idea. He works Monday to Wednesday, plus Friday and Saturday. He still does odd jobs for us on Thursday. I don't let the kids call him Uncle Randy. He's just Randy. And Amy was right; picking on him is like kicking a puppy. A fucking six foot three-inch, stepped off the cover of a Harlequin Romance, puppy. I did have a little talk with him, making sure he knew what would happen if he messed with my woman again. I think he wet himself. Not even potty-trained.

Me, I'm married to the most beautiful woman I know. Even more gorgeous now. Two great kids, with intentions for a third, and a business that's doing gang-busters. Elizabeth and I have learned to communicate better. She doesn't let things fester anymore, and when she has an issue with me, she says so. If not to me, then to Amy. Then I get an earful.

Like most married couples, we had our problems. Worst than many I guess, but we worked through them, perhaps in a less conventional way than most. Do I think she'll ever cheat on me again? No, not likely. It's possible, but if she did, I'm pretty sure it would be for some dopey reason, and not because she doesn't love me. That part I'm pretty sure of. Then again, I may just be a sucker for a pretty face.

Do I ever expect to have an 'office wife' again? Again, not likely. Do I miss it? A little. But let's face it - I'm in my mid-thirties. I think breaking in another office wife would kill me. Besides, I have the prettiest girl in town at home, waiting for me each evening, with my favorite drink, shaken not stirred, and she's willing and more than able to take on both jobs - home and office wife - by herself.

Speaking of which ....

* * * * 

 In honor of slyc_willie, one of the good ones, as well as the founder and moderator of the first five FAWC competitions. We'll miss you.