Tango on the Razor's Edge Ch. 17

The next morning, I tried to psych up for the day with a long shower. Warm water rained upon my head while my mind raced with thoughts of the night before. The gang bang, the conversation with Joaquin, and the prospect of seeing everyone at work were more than I could process. An additional three cups of coffee woke me up but did little to calm my nerves.

Helen met me in the lobby. "Thanks for coming in," she brightly chirped as she led me upstairs. She asked about my drive and made small talk about happenings around town. "Mr. Kincaid's anxious to meet you, so we're going to skip the HR spiel and go straight to his office," she said as she led me into the executive suite. I peered through a passing doorway to see that the office that had once been Holly's was occupied by a woman I didn't recognize.

Mr. Kincaid was about twenty years my junior. He was dressed like a business school graduate who still thought he would set the world on fire. He rounded his desk to shake my hand. "Thank you for coming in." He offered me a chair, thanked Helen for escorting me up, and returned to his seat. Posters of inspirational slogans lettered over images of exotic locations hung from the walls: a marathoner persevered, and a dreamer imagined. Dan's old-school desk and plush gentlemen's club chair had been replaced by a worktable and office chair. He said, "Everyone tells me that you can help me out."

"I guess that depends on what you need," I replied.

He turned one of the monitors on his desk to show a spreadsheet with red numbers and graphs with red lines that pointed downward. "I need to stop the bleeding, and I don't have much time to do it. Can you help?"

Kincaid was so young that I had a hard time taking him seriously, and we'd skipped the getting-to-know-you pleasantries, so I didn't have much else to work with. The shop floor was quiet, which meant the large machinery was idle, and they'd brought me in three days after Helen's call, which meant we didn't have the luxury of time. I said, "I can help with the machines, but the problem with this place has always been the management."

Kincaid smiled broadly. "Ouch. That hurt."

"Sorry, but I can only make the machines work. I can't fix the real problems."

"It's okay. I can work with that."

A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about the time I'd heard Holly say those exact words. I wondered if they'd been talking and what she might have shared.

Kincaid continued, "If you can help me show some progress, I can make a case for more time. Together we can turn this place around."

I shook my head. "Maybe in a perfect world, but I've got a lot of baggage that I'd rather not lug around this place."

Mr. Kincaid nodded. "I've heard bits and pieces about that, but frankly, I'm not interested. That kind of crap is nothing but trouble, and I don't have time for trouble." He pulled a piece of paper from a stack and passed it to me. "I had everyone sign this memo." He leaned back and waited for me to read the memo's one short paragraph, which said little more than gossip about fellow employees hurts productivity, and anyone found to be hurting productivity would immediately be terminated. Once I'd finished reading, he said, "I've made my position clear to everyone here. I don't expect any problems."

"I appreciate that, but this is still the last place on Earth I want to work."

Kincaid flashed his palm. "Hold on. Don't make up your mind yet. You haven't heard my offer."

I slumped back into my chair. "Okay. Go ahead and make your pitch."

"Before I do, would you like to look around? I'm sure there's a lot of people who would like to see you."

I shook my head. "I don't think that will be necessary."

He exhaled and said, "There's no one here you want to talk to?" After another shake of my head, he said, "Alright, let's get to it." He pulled a file folder off his desk and opened it. "I asked just about everyone here what was needed to turn this place around." He scanned a piece of paper he pulled off the top of the file and ticked off points, "The sales staff said we need you to reassure those customers we still have. Manufacturing says we need you to improve the uptime of our equipment. Human resources says you're important for morale." He slapped the paper with the back of his hand. "Even the environmental compliance guys have you pegged as essential." He waited for a moment, then continued, "After I collected all this input, I asked Carlson what gives. How did we buy a company without ensuring the key player was locked in place? Do you know what he said?"

"Did he tell you that he renegotiated the sale price?"

"That's right. He chopped two million off the price, but that doesn't do me any good. I've still got a company to run." He scooted his chair towards mine and leaned forward, with his elbows resting on his knees. I'm going to offer you 20% over whatever salary you're making. Then I'm going to sweeten the pot by splitting the two-million dollars with you fifty-fifty."

"You're going to give me a million dollars?"

"Yes, $50,000 a year over and above your salary for the next twenty years or until you quit."

"What if you fire me?"

He pulled a contract from the folder and pointed to a paragraph of legalese. "You get the remainder in a lump sum." He passed the contract to me. "See for yourself."

I got the gist of what the contract said, but I had no idea how enforceable it was, so I replied with a noncommittal, "That's a tempting offer."

"I hope so. It's the best I can do."

"How long do I have to think about it?"

He shook his head. "We can't wait."

"You want me to start on Monday?"

"Heck no. I want you to start now."

I thought for a moment, then said, "Twenty years is an awfully long time to wait for that money."

Kincaid smiled at the opening of negotiations. "How long would you be willing to wait?"

"Ten years?"

He took out a pen and marked up the contract accordingly. "Anything else?"

I chuckled to myself. "I didn't realize I was such a good negotiator."

Kincaid smiled as he collected the paperwork, "It's pretty easy when we both get what we want." As he led me out of his office, he said, "Why don't you get to work while I have Helen make the changes to the contract." Then he shook my hand and added, "I look forward to working with you."

***

Raul and his crew were scattered about haphazardly disassembling and reassembling equipment. He snapped at a guy rifling through parts on the floor, then swore at another, standing with his hands in his pockets. I asked, "Would you guys like a hand?"

"It's about damned time!" Raul replied.

We all shook hands and chatted for a moment, then I asked him to show me around. As we walked, he told me there was so much pressure to meet the schedule that maintenance had fallen way behind. Much of the equipment had either broken down or was about to break down. When we stopped at Station 8, he introduced me to a new hire. "This is Matt. He's been tackling the big press."

Matt looked me in the eyes and said, "I've heard a lot about you." His grip was firm, and his smile was confident. He was about ten years younger than me, well-groomed, and good-looking. He was so self-assured that I couldn't help but wonder what Holly would have thought of him.

"Are you having any luck?" I asked.

"I'm about to find out. Before I button it up, do you mind checking it over?" It was an offer out of respect rather than a request for help.

I quickly scanned the usual gotchas, shrugged, and said, "It looks pretty good to me."

We waited for him to put the safety covers in place and power it on.

I try not to be petty, but I have to admit that I was disappointed when the big press began to chug and klug in its deep machine voice. It was as if the machine was reassuring the entire floor that everything was going to be alright, and I wasn't the one that had made it sing.

A cheer rang out from the floor. Raul clapped my back and said, "You've been here for five minutes, and Station 8 is already back online!"

I turned to Matt and said, "Nice job," which had no effect on his well-established self-confidence.

From there, we all turned to the next piece of equipment and the next problem.

***

Kincaid used pizza to bribe us to work through lunch. Other than that, I only saw him once or twice through the second-floor windows. I caught Holly looking down at us from time to time, but I didn't talk to her until I was upstairs with Helen signing the paperwork. She said, "It's good to see you down there working. It's like the cavalry has finally arrived."

Rather than feign modesty, I asked, "What time do you want me to drop by tonight?"

"Is 7:00 too early?"

"No, that should be fine. Can I bring anything?"

She shook her head, "Don't be silly. You're not a guest."

Who was she kidding? I was only welcome in her home if I played by her rules. Rather than argue, I said, "Okay, I'll see you at 7:00."

***

Cathryn answered the door with a joyous "Daddy!" and a big hug. "I've missed you!"

I tried to hug her back, but the presents in my arms left me capable of little more than resting my chin on her shoulder. "Let me put this stuff down so I can hug you properly."

She relieved me of the largest present, led me into the living room, and then helped me put everything down on the coffee table. I couldn't help but check that all the furniture was where it belonged, the towels had been put away, and our suburban, whitebread facade was back in place.

After giving her a proper hug, I asked, "Where's your mother?"

Cathryn held up an index finger as she sent off a hasty text, then said, "She'll be ready in a few minutes. Maybe you could help me with my math homework while we wait?" She pulled her math book from her backpack and dropped it open on the kitchen table. She turned a few pages and said, "Could you help me with this."

After flipping through the chapter for a few minutes, I asked, "Didn't we already cover this?"

She looked at the pages and said, "Oh yeah. I've got the wrong chapter." She turned a few pages and said, "This is the one," but I was distracted by the sound of voices coming from upstairs.

"Who's here?" I asked.

As Cathryn sent off another text, she replied, "Mom wants me to sit with you while she finishes up."

We heard the low rumble of voices from upstairs, followed by laughter.

"What's she doing?" I asked.

Cathryn smiled. "What do you think she's doing?"

"Can you just answer my question?"

Cathryn saw I was getting upset, so she patted my hand and said, "Relax, Dad. Everything's going to be alright."

I leaned back in my chair and regarded the young woman who had once been my little girl. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just sitting with you while Mom finishes up."

"You're keeping my mind off what's obviously going on?"

She shook her head. "No. I wouldn't say that." She reached across the table again, took my hand, and said, "I'm here to talk with you while it happens."

"Is Joaquin up there?"

"What do you think?"

I stood up. "God damn it!"

Cathryn tugged at my hand. "Dad, just sit down."

"I don't have to put up with this shit."

I considered charging upstairs and making a scene or rushing out the front door in a huff, but Cathryn threw me off by saying, "She's doing this for you. It's a performance. She wants to get you all hot and bothered, and she knows this will do the trick."

"What?"

"Come on, Dad. Sit down." She tugged at my hand again.

"I'm so sick of this bullshit."

She tugged at my hand again and said, "Sit down and try to relax."

"You think I should just sit down next to you like nothing's happening?"

"No, you should sit down next to me and talk about what is happening."

"You think I want to talk with you about your mother cuckolding me?"

"That's why I'm here."

"What?"

"I'm here to help you through it. We all know it's not easy, but it needs to be done."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Come on, Dad. Sit down. Let's talk it through."

I stared at her in disbelief.

"Start by telling me how it makes you feel."

I looked down at her and said, "I feel betrayed - by everyone."

"Even me?"

"Especially you."

"But I'm here for you, Dad."

"You just like seeing me squirm."

Cathryn smiled. "I do like watching you squirm, but that isn't why I'm sitting with you now."

I shook my head.

"Is it humiliating to know that your wife is upstairs with another man?"

"Of course it is."

"Sit down. Let's talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What else are you feeling?" she pressed.

"Cathryn, can you please give it a rest?"

"Look, Dad, this isn't a simple black and white situation. It's complicated, and we need to talk it through."

"Of course it's black and white. Your mother is up there with him, and I'm down here with, well, with you."

"Yes, but your emotions aren't black and white, are they?"

"What do you mean?"

"Part of you is humiliated, and part is jealous, but part of you gets off on it."

The sighs and groans of sex from upstairs filled the air as I tacitly acknowledged the truth in what she'd said.

"Come on, Dad. Please sit down."

I tentatively returned to my seat, knowing full well that this simple act was an admission of defeat.

"That's a good boy. Now talk to me."

"What kind of man lets other men sleep with his wife?" I asked.

"Lots of men are cuckolds, Dad. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Come on, you know better than that. Everyone in town's laughing at me."

"Don't worry about them. Instead, concentrate on what's right for you."

"I'm pretty sure that him fucking her is not right for me."

"Maybe, or maybe not. But if it turns you on when he fucks her, who's to say it's wrong?"

"That would be fucked up."

Cathryn arched her eyebrows, "Aren't we all a little bit fucked up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Dad, admit it. It turns you on that Mom is upstairs fucking Joaquin."

"I can't believe my daughter is saying this to me," I protested, but there was no denying my arousal. My cock was as stiff as a plank. I could have cum with a few short strokes from a disfigured hag.

"Talk to me. Tell me how you feel."

"I don't know how to feel."

"That's it. Just talk to me."

"I knew this was going to happen."

Cathryn smiled, stroked my hand, and said, "That's it, Dad. Let it all go."

"I knew she'd cheated on all her other husbands, so I figured that she'd eventually cheat on me. I just thought I had more time."

"So, you married her knowing that she'd eventually cheat on you?"

"I suppose, but I don't think I'd put it all together at the time."

"Do you think you were subconsciously aware of it?"

"Maybe." The sounds of sex from upstairs made it hard for me to concentrate.

"Do you think you found Mom attractive because you knew that she'd eventually cuckold you?"

I shook my head. "Am I that pathetic?"

Rather than answer my question, she asked, "Do you find being a cuckold exciting?"

"I suppose," I replied as the grunts and groans from upstairs intensified.

Cathryn caressed my hand and said, "Just relax and let it happen."

"But..."

"Everything is going to be alright," she gently coaxed.

I said, "I didn't want this," as I reveled in the softness of her hand. "I just wanted a little time with you and your sister."

She replied, "I know, Dad," as she soothed me. "But this has to happen. You need to sit back, relax, and let it."

The rhythm of sexual intercourse beat down from the master bedroom as my stepdaughter stroked my hand. I heard Joaquin grunt again and again as Holly's moans rapidly built. I pictured Holly's perfect body with her legs spread wide, glistening with sweat and writhing under the withering assault of Joaquin's massive cock. I imagined her beautiful breasts recoiling in time with his thrusts and the satisfaction on her face as he filled her carnal canal.

The touch of my stepdaughter's hand on mine brought me back to the moment. She was smiling reassuringly as she soothed my ragged emotions. She asked, "You're not going to cum in your pants, are you?"

"No, of course not," I said even though I wasn't sure.

"That's good. You need to save it for when you're upstairs."

"Jesus, Cathryn. You're my daughter."

She stroked the back of my hand again and said, "Just relax."

"Do you get off on sitting here with me?" I asked.

"I wouldn't say that I get off on it, but it is intense."

I listened to the sounds of their fucking for a few more minutes, then asked, "Why do I need to sit through it?"

"It's all part of Mom's plan to win you back."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You can't be serious."

"I'm dead serious. She has a plan. Just wait and see."

The thump, thump, thump of the mattress got louder as the grunts and moans became more frequent.

Cathryn clutched my hand tightly and said, "Hold on. It's almost over."

I took a deep breath as I assessed the situation. Somewhere deep down inside, I'd hoped that Holly would realize the mistake she'd made. That she'd plead for me to come back and that somehow we'd get back to where we were before I'd found that open suitcase. That dream was dead. I had to move on.

Holly moaned loudly as Joaquin brought the frequency of his thrusts to their crescendo.

Cathryn gripped my hand tightly, "Are you ready, Dad?"

"Ready for what?"

"Just listen."

My heart leapt with the hope that Cathryn and Holly had arranged something special for me. Something that showed she cared about me. Maybe she'd call my name out loud, or maybe she'd declare her enduring love for me. Instead, she shouted, "Oh, baby. I'm so close. Take me there."

The mattress thumped loudly against the wall a half-dozen times, and then the rhythm of their sex came to a halt.

Cathryn's phone chimed. She read the message and said, "They're ready for you."

"What?"

"They want you upstairs."

"To do what?"

"Whatever a cuckold does after the bull has finished."

"This is her plan?"

Cathryn smiled reassuringly. "You sat through this much. Go up there and see what she's got for you."

***

I pushed open the bedroom door to find Holly and Joaquin in a post-coital embrace. She stroked his goopy cock a couple of times and said, "Look what I've got for you."

With as much indignation as I could muster, I asked, "Do I have to suck his cock before you'll let me see Chris?"

Holly smiled reassuringly. "You can believe that if it makes it easier for you, or you can just suck it because you want to." She gave it a long, slow stroke and asked, "Doesn't it look delicious?"

"Jesus, is this what you think of me? I'm just some piece of shit that should be humiliated at every opportunity?" I tried to sound pissed off, but we all knew where the conversation was headed.

Holly smiled her sinister smile, "You know better than that. I humiliate you because you like to be humiliated. Now, come here and wrap your lips around this nice, juicy cock."

As humiliated and completely degraded as I felt, I could not deny that something inside me wanted his cock in my mouth.

Joaquin said, "Come on, Nicki. It's not like you haven't sucked my cock before, and we all know you liked it."

He was right. It wasn't like I was a virgin or anything, but I think he also knew how badly I wanted to take him in my mouth.

Holly chimed in while she continued stroking his manhood, "Come on, Baby. You know you want to suck, and I want to watch."

I took a step into the room.

Holly tipped her head in the direction of a new daybed and said, "I laid an outfit out for you."

Panties, a bra, nylons, and a pair of heels were spread out on a daybed that had replaced the recliner and reading lamp that had been there when I left for Chicago. "Why don't you change first."