Patrick's Journey

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This is a work of fiction involving some themes that make some people uncomfortable. The original story, Jessica in Red, is a cuckold story involving a husband giving up his wife to a dominant man. I then retold that story from the wife's perspective in My Name is Jessica LondonandJessica London is Reborn. It helps to read all three of those stories first (In that order).

This story replays the same events from the dominant man's perspective.

If any of this bothers you, including the themes or the switching of perspectives, you are encouraged to move on.

For those that do read it, I truly hope you enjoy it. This series has been great fun to write.

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Waiting for Jessica outside of the restaurant was both a joy and a hardship. A beautiful woman was going to step out of the limo I had arranged and come to me. We will have dinner and then make love all night. Guys have had worse fates. But it also means my deception and my poor choices will come to light, and thus, beyond the good vibes, I also have significant levels of dread as I wait for her.

I am a man with power. I have wealth from the typical ways success is rewarded in our world, and I have good looks and charm, which opens further doors, and I have a relatively unique ability to read people and thus be able to manipulate them. Sometimes I have used that power wisely, sometimes not. This is a situation where the verdict is still out.

I have an employee that is a weak man. He is a good man, and a good worker, but he lacks foresight and initiative. He is easy to guide, easy to manipulate. In the six months I have known him, he has done what I wanted, when I wanted, and was happy to oblige. Nothing nefarious there. He made more money, my division did better, both parties were happy with the arrangement.

Then there was a costume; a bright red, devil's outfit worn by a delicious young woman with a tight body and alluring eyes. I have a thing for red. No real reason, but it is a strong thing. And who doesn't have a thing for attractive women. I have some unique gifts in that department as I have always been attractive myself. I am 6'2' and a mean & lean 200 pounds. I have what is often termed rugged good looks, but it is softened by expressive and penetrating eyes and a warm smile. Yes, I work out, yes, I have learned the best time to flash my smile or use my eyes, but mostly I am just lucky. I find it funny when someone congratulates me on my good looks. Like I earned them.

That being said, I would rather have them than not. They make my life easy. I win in business, I win in life, and I often get the girl because of them. Combined with my strong personality and my ability to both read people and see the big picture very well, I win often. Nearly every time I try. So, you might be thinking, so why is this guy dreading his date with a beautiful woman?

Because the situation evolved, and I was slow to react, and because of that I might lose. And for once, I really want to win. I chased the hot girl in the red costume and used my power to get her, and then in that process realized she is so much more than a hot girl and now I sit on the edge. Will this fall in my favor, or will this blow up on me? We must set the stage to really know.

Her name is Jessica. I will leave it at that for now. She was the hot girl in the bright red costume and when I saw her from across the room, I thought that just maybe this boring work party that I pretty much need to attend won't be so bad after all. I worked my way through the crowd. I went in for the kill.

Then I get closer and realize there is something about this young lady. It is her eyes. They are inspiring and mesmerizing. My momentum carries me to her, and I lead out with a truthful statement, even though it sounds like a really bad pickup line.

"You are the most beautiful woman here. I'm Patrick"

She introduces herself and it turns out she is my dutiful employee's wife. How he landed this amazing creature is beyond me. We converse based around her putting her foot in her mouth. She explained her job as a way to have something to do when her husband's jerk of a boss makes him work weekends. That jerk was me. She turns red, I have fun with it. It really doesn't bother me.

I find myself attracted and intrigued, and without giving it much thought I place my hand on her. Her devil's costume is a red bustier that ends short and leaves her midsection bare. She has on black leggings under it. I reach out and place my hand on her right hip, touching her bare skin. It feels good. I lean into her to say something witty, and she smiles. She doesn't remove my hand.

Then things get weird, and fortunately, or unfortunately, I sometimes like weird. I notice her husband coming our way, but instead of a pissed off look on his face because he sees his boss with a hand on his wife, he seems fascinated by it. I do the mental math; submissive guy at work, hot wife, boss making his moves, it all adds up to this guy getting his jollies from watching me flirt with and touch his wife.

So, what do I do? I flirt more. I keep my hand on her and use it to keep her positioned so she doesn't know he is watching, and I just enjoy it. I can feel her body temperature rise. We talk, and it comes way too easily and is wonderful. She gets aroused from the interaction as her nipples become clearly visible, and what red blooded man doesn't appreciate that. And she shares elements of her life and I feel this weird but real connection. I keep swinging between the asshole messing with his perverted employee, and the guy enamored with a captivating woman. The side of me that enjoys the power I have and the benefits it brings is mostly the winner in the end, and a plan is hatched.

I decide that I just might be able to get the hot young thing for myself given the power I have over her husband. I use my hand to turn her and show her that her husband has been standing there watching me touch her and flirt with her. He has a tent in his pants and the whole situation would have just been pathetic except there was Jessica. I wanted her, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't all hormones and power cravings, there was something about her that made me intensely curious. I truly wanted to both fuck her and converse with her. Normally, only the first one would be on my agenda.

My brain figured out the early details of my plan, and I launched into it. I tell the poor schmuck I need him to come to work. I don't, but it gets him on my home turf and away from her, and it shows her I am the powerful and strong man. I enjoyed watching her lose faith in her husband as he capitulated to my demand. I even made him come in early.

And then I test the waters. As I disengage with his wife, I let my hand brush across her top tier ass. She practically moans. The husband does nothing. I make a comment reminding them who the husband was obeying, and get no reaction. And I say my goodbyes with a seriously flirty comment and a big wink, and I get a huge smile from her and still nothing from him. She is clearly interested, and so was he, in his own weird way.

I walked away to further socialize figuring I would flesh out phase two of my plan later. But I couldn't get her out of my head. And not just because she was gorgeous, although there was no denying that was part of it. It was our conversation; it was genuine and dare I say deep. It wasn't the usual throwaway flirting conversation you have at a party; it went beyond that. I found myself wondering who this young lady really was and found myself sensing she was wondering the same. I did all the required socialization, but to be honest, most of my real attention was still on Jessica.

I got home and poured myself a Scotch. After my second I decided that I was overthinking this and I should just see if I could bed this woman. It seemed her husband wouldn't put up much of a fight. I jumped on the internet and without much effort learned about cuckolding. I had heard the term, but had never really cared what it meant. Now I did, because much of the info indicated that that there were men that wanted their women to sleep with other men. It often involved a dominant male and a submissive cuckold, and even drifted into bisexuality quite often on the part of the cuckold. I read, I plotted. I could really screw with this poor soul if he truly was a cuckold wannabe. I fell asleep late laughing about the opportunity in front of me.

I was up at my usual 5 am, and got my workout in. As I did, I finalized phase two in my head: divide and conquer. I got to work and waited for poor Jim Bowers to arrive. If all went well, I would fuck with him, and then get to fuck his wife. Win-win for me. She might even like it given I am very well endowed and know how to use it. Then I remembered what my research uncovered; Jim might be the one who would enjoy it the most. Weird but valuable information!

Jim got their 10 minutes early. I put him to work immediately without letting on that anything was a foot. I made my first play for Jessica. I called a florist and ordered flowers. Not just flowers, but a box of 60 red roses and paid a hefty fee to get it delivered by 10am. I thought about various messages to put into the card, but ultimately decided the honest one was best. "Thank you for a wonderful conversation. Patrick." I included my number. I gave myself some mental grief about that being too soft a first spar, but ultimately it kept being the conversation that captivated me the most. And that is saying a lot given her hot outfit and her obvious physical reaction to my advances.

The flowers were scheduled to arrive at 10am. I found myself staring nervously at my phone. Her reaction was a pivot point in the plan. No real reaction or a negative one, and I shut it down and send the hubby home at lunch. A good reaction, and I enter phase three.

At 10:07 am she reached out.

The flowers are beautiful. Thank you for making me feel special

Damn, she was good. Was she thanking me because the flowers made her feel special, or was she thanking me for making her feel special and last night? My admiration for her rose, pun itnended.

I decided to jump right back into flirting mode, and I responded.

You are special, that was clear upon meeting you

And I quickly followed that up with another text.

I told you red suits you, so I couldn't resist. I hope they are as pretty as the nice lady on the phone said they were when she sold me on them! :)

I had launched the flirt and now I waited patiently. One of my biggest strengths in business is I tolerate silence well. I have negotiated multi-million dollar deals by basically being silent. Jessica didn't respond immediately, but I just waited. My patience was rewarded.

It was a photo. It was Jessica, looking intriguingly sexy, behind the box of flowers. It was just her face and very upper body, but there were no signs of clothes. It was a selfie, so the photo was a tight one. It was alluring and certainly made me smile, but it was the message with it that was the winner.

I can't argue, red does look good on me.

She has only sent me two texts and I already think I am in love! Obvious exaggeration of the love word, but you get my drift. She was putting it out there, it was my turn to swing. It was the first moment where a shift occurred. The crude, lustful side of me had some thoughts, but the more human side of me kept staring at the photo and seeing a hunger and an innocence in her eyes and it had me beguiled. For the first time I realized she wasn't just hot, she was beautiful in a much more authentic way. A way that no man recognizes when that woman is wearing a red devil bustier in a bar. But looking at the photo I went back to my very first assessment; it was her eyes that won the day. Not many people can get me off balance, but she was doing just that.

My text back was still a flirt, but it had a nugget of truth in it too.

You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?

How could she? If she did, she would have never sent that photo because there is no way it wasn't going to impact the recipient. Definitely off balance.

I have had very mixed messages in my lifetime.

That wasn't a flirt, that seemed more like a genuine confession. It sounds like a bad cliché, but it seemed to be a cry for help. I found myself typing on instinct, versus crafting my response for effect.

Jessica, nothing mixed about it, you are beautiful.

It was true, and I meant it sincerely. Yes, I still would love to get this woman in bed, but it also sounded like she could use some positive affirmation. She responded and we were off and running. Funny thing was while the back and forth started in the flirting zone, it got much deeper and much more real very quickly. She had both a contagious energy to her, and a deep sadness.

Jim, her husband, was obviously a bad choice for her. She was frustrated. She wanted more, or at least different. She was confessing things to me that she shouldn't. She threw out words like strong, passionate, decisive, bold, and spontaneous, all things her husband was not.At first at least, I found myself asking her for more, not because I could use the information to get her to sleep with me, but because I found myself wanting to help her.

But then she seemed to recognize that we were going into dangerous territory and scolded herself. I made a counter move. What I had thought of as my quest to get her in bed, started to reshape to be my offer to have her experience a different reality than her current. Finally, I just typed my offer: sleep with me and see how it feels to be with someone that exemplified all of those words. She made the obvious response; reminding me she was married.

But if one thing was clear from my research last night, if Jim's tent in his pants was any indication that he was a submissive, wannabe cuckold, the married part was not going to be an issue. Best part, I had Jim right here in the office and I had a strong play I could make.

I suggested to Jessica that her husband would step aside and that I will send him her way to have that conversation. I told her I was offering her a night of passion and pleasure, and she just had to get comfortable with the idea and get the green light from her husband. I had a real winning hand considering how confident I was that I could mess with her husband.

I told her that I was just as interested in helping her as I was in fucking her. I used better words. It was the truth. I suddenly saw a different woman behind the roses in that photo. I saw a woman that was still highly desirable, but I also saw a woman that needed a jolt, a jolt that just might have life changing results for her. My simple plan to bed her was suddenly more complicated. But as I ended our text chat, I realized I was just as interested in the complicated part as the simple.

It was now time to turn my attention to Jim. I had to take some deep breaths and formulate a final plan. I found myself mad at him for being such a negative for Jessica and anger is never a good starting point for a successful plan. My original intent was to use his potential fetish to get him out of the way so I could take his wife, but now I was equally motivated to get him out of the way so I could help his wife. Either way, I was going to remove him, and I had a harsh and devious plan worked out. Jim Bowers was about to be reduced to zero and at this point, I felt good about that.

I called him into my office and walked him right into his demise. It started with some questions about how last night played out. I assumed correctly that he gotten seriously laid by Jessica when they got home. It was the obvious thing. I had got her juices flowing, and I had got his juices flowing by getting her juices flowing in front of him, and one plus one equals two. He fought me off feebly, but then confirmed he had been the recipient of some good sex based on what I had started.

I kept him off-guard and on the defensive and then gave him what he really wanted. I told him I was going to fuck his wife. He tried to hide it, but I could read his enthusiasm for this idea easily. I told him about the flowers, I told him about our texts. I embellished the story a bit to make him really bite. And he bit. He could barely speak, but he was back to being tent in the pants guy. I decided to go big. Literally.

I told him that I was going to send him out on a customer errand and while he was away for the evening, I was going to fuck his wife. He was so excited he was ready to burst. I made the big play. I pulled out my large and commanding cock and told him to suck it. I acted like I knew all about how a man like him thinks, wanting to be a cuckold and all, and even though that conclusion was really based on one evening of Scotch enhanced research. In the end though, I hit the bullseye.

The man sucked my cock. Now, I am not gay, but he was actually pretty good at it. A blowjob is a gender neutral activity to me. I don't care which gender has their lips around my cock, as long as they do their job. It wasn't the first time I had been pleasured by a man, and likely it wasn't going to be the last. Receiving blow jobs was one of the definite perks of having power over so many careers of ambitious young people. As I indicated at the beginning, I have a highly pronounced asshole side to me.

But I also enjoyed it on behalf of Jessica. I was setting her free. Granted I was still hoping her first post-emancipation act would be letting me fuck her, but either way, I was not just creating a green light situation for that journey, but I was extracting a bit of revenge on the dull, boring, cautious, and safe husband of hers that had obviously left her unfulfilled and feeling trapped.

I came in his mouth and all over his face. I called him a sissy and a faggot (stupid words but they had the desired effect). I made him eat the cum off his face and I made him verbally offer his wife to me. I reduced him to zero. I even took some photos just in case he found any fight in himself. I doubted I would have to use them.

I explained that it was his job to text with his wife and convince her to sleep with me. I shared with him that I was going to send Jessica a sexy dress and sexy lingerie to get her motivated. I explained I booked a whole afternoon at the spa for Jessica so that she could get ready for the big evening. I laid out a plan to seduce and fuck his wife that seemed inevitable. He bought every part of it.

I gave him an hour to convince his wife to be mine for the evening, although I was already thinking well beyond that. I supervised his first text, and soon enough, and as expected, he was selling his beautiful wife on the idea that a night with me was a great thing.

I should have left it there. But I didn't. I still found myself wanting to ruin this guy. I reached out to a couple of guys we did business with that I knew were nice and successful guys on one side, and complete degenerates on the other. I offered a discount on their next contract if they went to dinner with Jim and then used him as their sissy bitch all evening. They said they were in.

I called my administrative assistant who had a bisexual husband who was a great guy, a loving husband, my favorite golfing partner, and a man who had some serious submission fetishes. His wife found them somewhere between amusing and tolerable, so they stayed a happy couple. I learned this early after I took the job but have never had any reason to use that information.