Jog On

He glanced at Bobbi, who nodded. "Yeah, he's exceeded my expectations."

He nodded in response. "Good, good." He looked over at me. "It's taken us so long to find somebody suitable," he continued, as he popped open the briefcase and withdrew some papers. "So many disappointments. So many men just didn't measure up to my wife's, um, high standards." He gulped. "And I'll only accept the best for my Bobbi."

What the fuck? Where exactly was this going? "Um... I'm not quite sure where you're heading with this. You want me to... what? Become your official maintenance man, or something?"

Bobbi giggled. Her fiancé looked slightly uncomfortable. "Er, well yes, in a manner of speaking. We need you on-hand, on a permanent basis, to err..." he wasn't sure how to finish.

"To do the jobs that you can't, darling?" she suggested.

"Um, yes, precisely."

"Such as...?" I wondered. Surely they couldn't possibly be suggesting what I thought they were suggesting?

Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Really, Scott. You're a bright boy. Don't make him spell it out, the poor thing is embarrassed enough."

So, it was true, then. "You want me to be some kind of gigolo?"

"See, he does get it," she called to her future husband. "Please, babe, let's get this signed up. He's the one, he'll make me so happy!"

"It's a relatively standard agreement in the circumstances," he explained, advancing towards me with a pen and clipboard. "A general handyman agreement, live-in arrangements, and some wording around waiving marriage vows and infidelity clauses." He looked at me, waiting to take the paperwork. "It's all quite in order. Think of it as an au-pair kind of arrangement. Very standard, very boring."

For you, maybe, I thought. This sort of thing certainly wasn't normal in my circles. Horrified, I started backing out of the pool. "Um, can I think about this?" I wrapped a robe round myself, trying not to look either of them in the eyes. "I, er, need to talk to the boss before I can go work somewhere else."

"Sure, baby," Bobbi said, wrapping her arms round me. "Take a week or so, we can sign this stuff and defer your starting day here." She was literally bouncing with joy. "I can't wait to have the girls round and show you off! Let them see what you can do!"

Somehow I kept the smile painted on my face, even as my insides writhed and the sickening vertigo-like feeling spread through me. I thought back to how sure I was, just 5 minutes ago, of a life with her - exclusively her - forever. That person I was, was a stranger to me now. She didn't love me, and never would. We weren't only not on the same page; we weren't even in the same book!

Aargh, dammit. If only I hadn't developed feelings for her. We could have had so much fun for a few years, and all at her cuckold fiancé's expense - and with his permission! Fuck, you idiot, my cock was saying. She's the best you ever had, that you're likely ever to get. And just look at the side benefits! What are you doing to us?

But my heart was already breaking. This was no romance; it was a transaction. A business arrangement. I was ready to settle down, but to her I was just another extravagant sex toy. I saw it in her eyes - those hazel gemstones sparkled as she gazed in adoration at her man. A man who would provide for her, meet her every need, in any way in his power. Whatever it took.

That's what I wanted, with my future wife. I wasn't going to have that, here. I had to get away. While I still could.

I grabbed my stuff, as politely but as quickly as I could, made some pathetic excuse, and slunk away.

I sure would miss that beautiful, energetic bitch though.

Huskies are still my favourite dogs.

THE END...?