Water Cooler Talk

I think every work place comprised mostly of men has a Desi King: on the upper side of middle age, probably was a big athlete in high school, and now is showing more than a little signs of aging. When they were younger, women threw themselves at them, so they learned to treat them as objects. Now, that isn't happening, but they built their image around it and have to come up appearances that they were still God's gift to women.

Desi had only worked at my broker firm for six months, but I already had him pegged as one of 'those guys.' He was about six-feet tall, probably still strong as an ox, but his gut stuck out a lot more than his chest. There was quite a big of overhang in his dress-shirt that he tried to hide with his suit coat. What was left of his dark hair was speckled with gray. I doubt any woman under fifty would find him anything special. Yet, every break around the water cooler -- which was almost entirely men -- he'd be bragging about who he fucked or was going to fuck.

Taking him by his word, he'd already slept with four of the younger single secretaries in the company and three married female employees. Of course, he always made sure no women were in earshot as he made his claims. I was really looking forward for his boasts to get to one of the women involved so I could enjoy the fireworks. Yes, in general, I didn't like Desi. He was in customer relations, whereas I managed a team that managed company accounts, so we didn't really interact at work. I knew he was all right at his job, but like with his sex life, acted like he was the superstore of the company.

Normally, I would walk by and ignore his stories, but when I caught the name of his current 'conquest,' I stopped and listened.

"So, there I had Velma in the booth," Desi said with animated hand gestures, "and that cold exterior melted when I touched her leg. Her legs spread like butter and I had a finger inside her before the server took our coffee order. She was already so wet; I decided to make her come with my finger. We ended up in my car and forgot about ordering coffee. Shit, can that lady suck cock..."

"And this was over lunch?" I said.

Desi winked. "Well, our mouths weren't stuff with foods, but..."

"I find that hard to believe, since Velma has a four-month-old in daycare still nursing. Every lunch hour the last two weeks, I've past her taking the elevator downstairs to breastfeed her daughter over her lunch break -- carrying her bag lunch." I smirked and noticed some snickers from a few of the guys.

"Well, I didn't say it happened the last few weeks, Verges, did I," said Desi, obviously trying to save face, "Not like I should have to prove anything to you. Besides, I doubt you'd want that..." He took a step towards me.

All of the six other surrounding guys were hushed and focused on us. I felt it was almost a flashback to high school and someone would start chanting, "fight, fight, fight..."

Yes, Desi was big and not much older than me, but I was in great shape. 5'10" and 190lbs of muscle from working out religiously. Besides, we were dressed in suits in a busy office -- not the location or attire for a brawl.

"What's that supposed to me, King?" I responded, not backing my ground at all.

"I mean you probably don't want me to prove anything?" He said with a sneer.

I caught what he was getting at, and laughed, "You're saying you've slept with my wife? My wife?"

"Kristy Verges, almost forty but looks early-thirties. Light completion, natural strawberry-blonde, nice long legs, about C-cup natural breasts..."

"So you know what my wife looks like..." I said, "Hey guys... King here can look people up on Facebook."

"Nice big nipples, areola about this big..." He used his finger and thumb to show pretty much the size of Kristy, but seeing her in a shirt, not a stretch to guess. "And... on the outside of her right one there is a little dark mole that looks like a beauty mark. Shall I go on?"

That was no guess. I was thinking how could he have seen her naked? Did he hack my phone? I had a topless picture of her on there from a few months back.

"Okay, how about she has a red birth mark right above her pussy the size and shape of a peanut that her pubic hair covers, which is why she never shaves completely. Though, if you're close enough to it... I mean nose touching her clit close... you can see it through her dark brown pubes..."

"What?" I felt my face getting warm.

"Oh, and I'm sure it was just me, but when you get her close to the edge from riding you, she wants to switch to doggy and have you shove a finger in her ass. Comes like crazy..."

He step back laughing as I swung at his head and missed. Two guys grabbed me before I could take another swipe. He walked briskly down the hall laughing.

"Dan, Dan... you'll be fired. Not worth it..." said Kareme, a guy who I supervised, "Shit... Find him in an alley alone or something. Shit... can't believe Kristy..."

"Yeah, neither can I." I was in shock. After together ten years and married eight, I thought we had a great marriage. Always ups and downs, but we were partners and each others' best friend. We raised our daughter together and always made time for us. We went on regular dates and always made time for sex. Kristy was an accountant and smart as a whip. She'd never fall for the bullshit lines from a guy like Desi King. She was out of his league -- even if she was single.

However, everything he said was completely accurate -- including wanting a finger in her ass when she was close to orgasm. Kristy was also so self-conscious about that birthmark that I doubt her closest friend, Mary, even knew. I also seriously doubted Kristy was the type to dish on our sex life -- her preferred way of ending our encounters. Kristy had nude pictures on our phones and computer sent between us, but no way Desi could know that even if he got hold of them.

I had an ugly pit in my stomach for the rest of the day coming to terms that Desi King probably had fucked my wife, and now most of the floor knew. Despite his chest puffing, Desi was the type of guy who would turtle if I went after him on the street and then charge me. While I was debating whether it would be worth being charged with assault to break some of his teeth, it came to me that hitting him in the wallet would be better.

Velma Peters was regional sales manager on the floor below us. Early thirties, tanned blonde, really pretty with very nice big breasts before she started breast-feeding. She also had a really huge diamond wedding ring from her lawyer husband.

I went up to her office, asked for a moment, and then shut the door.

"What's up Dan?" she said, looking worried.

I said in a lowered voice, "Do you know Desi King is telling everyone something happened between you two?"

Her face looked both shocked and anger. "What exactly did he say happen?"

I debated a second how to word it and said, "You two went for a coffee over lunch. He fingered you to orgasm right at the table and then you sucked him off in his car."

"That fucker... how many people heard?" Velma covered her face.

"At least seven or eight, but they'll talk. I think I convinced them it was all bullshit, I hope. Look, you should go to HR and..."

"No," she said waving her finger at me, "Definitely not. I'm going to talk to that asshole... Fuck..."

"But, why..." I started and caught a little fear or embarrassment in her eye, "It's true?"

"One time... Definitely one time now... He's got a thing about him..." Velma said, "And a huge dick... huge... But he can't be telling everyone. If this ever gets to Patrick... Fuck... Thanks, Dan. This means a lot you telling me.... I have to do damage control. Fuck!"

If Desi told the truth about Velma, which I was sure was complete horseshit, it was looking more plausible he was honest about my Kristy. I was trying to think when he even could've met her? Did he Facebook stalk me and track her down? Did anyone else tell him about Kristy? I doubt that would happen. It was then I remembered the staff family picnic, which was about a month after Desi started.

It was a really hot day, so Kristy was dressed cool, but looked so hot. She was wearing a long white dress that was backless and tied up around her neck. She was wearing no underwear, which she made sure I knew before we left. I don't remember seeing Desi at all there, but didn't really know to look for him. If he was looking for a hot woman to pursue, Kristy was catching more than my eye that day.

I remember I was doing a three-legged race with Morgan and couldn't find Kristy when it was over. It was about twenty minutes later, which means she could've been gone for at least forty minutes. Really, I had no idea when she left the race, which was weird for her to do. Watching Morgan was the highlight of the day for us. When I asked, she said that she had to go to the washroom really bad and got stuck talking to some people before she could return to us. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I never had anything to suspect her of either.

I also remembered that after the showing off going commando, I was surprised we didn't have sex that night. Before I could see her take off that dress, which was a thing she did to keep me interested, Kristy had showered and changed. She complained about an upset tummy and went to bed early. Was it guilt?

As I drove home, I kept trying to tell myself that there was no way Kristy would do that -- especially with Desi. There had to be a reasonable explanation for how he knew what he did, and what happened at the picnic didn't mean anything.

At the same time, Kristy had been going out more without me the last few months. Her friend was recently divorced, so Kristy said they needed girls' nights to blow off steam. Did that involve getting drunk and fucking Desi?

When I walked into the house, Kristy looked dressed to kill. She was wearing a knee-length skintight red dress and matching red heels. Her make-up was fully done with bright red lipstick-- like she was going out for a hot date.

"Hey, Hun," she said, blowing me a kiss, "Dinner for you and Morgan is on the stove. Shouldn't be too late -- maybe."

"Where are you going dressed like that?" I exclaimed.

"Out with Denise, I told you remember." She glanced around and then had an evil grin. "You're jealous you're not joining us and have to wait for this..." She lifted her dress to reveal her freshly shaved bald pussy, with the telltale birthmark clearly visible.

"You have to go out with no panties?" I asked sourly.

"I get chafed dancing in a thong, you know that. I don't want pantie lines in this. When is it ever a big deal when I go commando?" Kristy said crossing her arms, "Dan, you really are jealous. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just don't know why going out with your girlfriend, who's hot to trot, has to mean you dressing like you're looking for the same."

"Hot-to-trot? I'm wearing this because I feel sexy and confident. I can feel a little frumpy compared to what most girls wear. Believe me, if I want to dress to advertise, this hem would be a lot higher and I'd be ditching the bra. Fuck, Dan. What's with you today?"

"Nothing, you want to look hot on your night out with your friend, I get it."

"I did that..." She pointed to her crotch. "...for you. Was planning to surprise you, but maybe that was a mistake. You think I'm trying to get guys hitting on me? Believe me, it would happen even if I wore a sack -- drunk guys are shitheads and go after anything in a skirt. You know I can handle myself. Why is this all of sudden a big deal?"

"Nothing," I snapped, which I knew as soon as I said it didn't make any sense, and left the room. She didn't say goodbye before leaving.

I spent the early part of the evening playing princesses and reading to Morgan. I was so caught up with my little girl, that I didn't give a thought to Kristy and Desi. Unfortunately, once I put her down to the night, I couldn't get images out of my head of that asshole groping my wife in that dress.

I texted her, "Morgan's sleeping. What are you doing?"

After an hour of her not responding, I wrote another text and edited it three times, before deciding not say anything. I started thinking that I was an idiot and was letting Desi get to me. There's no way him and Kristy could've done anything. Twenty minutes later, I was certain she was cheating at that moment and almost dragged Morgan out of bed to look for her. I had such a headache as I flip-flopped about my wife's faithfulness in my brain, that I went to bed really early.

A bang woke me and I looked at the clock, it was three in the morning. Kristy was stumbling around our bedroom, really drunk. I closed my eyes to go back to sleep, when my wife almost fell on top of me and started kissing.

Her breath tasted like cheap drinks, but I responded kissing her. She tugged down at the sheets to uncover me, and grabbed my hand, guiding it between her legs. I groaned appreciatively as I felt the smooth bare skin where there's been pubic hair since I've known her. My hand moved lower and I could feel she was wet, really wet. Effortlessly, I slid one and then two fingers in her. I stopped and gently pushed her away.

"I need to pee," I lied and went to the master bathroom. After ten years, I knew my wife's body quite well. There is no way she would be that wet and loose without something going inside her recently, either fingers or another man's dick.

"Come on out, Dan, I'm so horny..." Kristy called out in a slurred voice.

"Sorry, stomach cramps..."

I think it was only about ten minutes stalling that I heard her breathing and knew she was asleep. I came out, grabbed my pillow, and went to sleep on the couch downstairs.

Knowing she would be sleeping in, I quietly got Morgan settled with breakfast and cartoons in the morning, and headed out to play golf to clear my head.

Once I got to the course, I texted Kristy I was golfing and then turned off my phone. I played one of the worst round of golf in my life, had lunch at the club, and then played another worst round. Everything was swimming in my mind and I was ready to lose it. I broke two clubs in frustration and got into a yelling match with an elderly man that really didn't deserve it.

I knew she cheated, but had no clue what to do. Our marriage was fantastic, our sex life was fantastic, and would I be pathetic to not want to hang on to it? One thing, I needed her to admit to me what happened for there to be any chance. Even if she did, part of me wanted to grab Morgan and just drive away. Could I look at her the same way again knowing what she's done with a man-slut like Desi? Could I trust her again? These nights out would have to stop; that was a deal breaker for me.

It was well past suppertime when I finally returned home. I had a few drinks at the club to prepare me for the upcoming confrontation, but not enough to give me a buzz. All I'd need would be a DUI on top of this mess.

When I walked it, I noticed the house was quiet. I called out to Morgan; seeing her would remind me what was at stake.

"She's at my parents," said a raspy voice.

I walked into the living room, and Kristy looked terrible. Sitting in sweats and an oversized shirt, drinking wine with no make-up and her eyes red and puffy.

"Hi..." I said.

"Hi? Hi?" Her eyes flashed with anger. "You take off on me and don't respond to my messages?"

"Like you didn't last night?" I responded.

"I didn't see it until later, my phone was on vibrate and the restaurant was loud," She said, "I didn't think that was worth throwing a temper tantrum over... Guess I was wrong. What the fuck is with you, Dan? Are you cheating on me?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you," She stood up, "You act all weird when you came home. Completely turn me down for sex and leave me alone in bed. And then you're gone all day -- all day who knows where. Who is she?"

"That's rich... Maybe I'm just starting to see things clearly."

"Really, what things?"

I took a breath to calm down. "At my company picnic, you disappeared and said you were talking with some one..."

"And went to the bathroom. I had gut rot, what the fuck does that..."

"Was it Desi King?" I interrupted, "Tell me. Was that who you were talking with?"

Kristy blinked and paused. "Well, yes..."

"Have you had sex with him, the truth?" I demanded.

"Dan?"

"Tell me! Have you had sex with that asshole?"

"Yes, but..."

I knew if I stayed, I would say something that we could never recover from. I turned and headed out. I could hear Kristy yelling after me, but all I heard was ringing in my ears. I got into my car and drove until I reached a bar.

I don't know how many drinks I had when I noticed a familiar face sit beside me. I just know I was feeling no pain, which exactly the goal. She was a tanned blonde with long slender legs and almost no ass or tits. Denise was moderately good looking, but looked a lot more attractive with all the whiskey in my system.

"Dan, how long have you been here? I heard Kris is worried sick," she said and pulled out her phone, "I'll tell her I'm bringing you home."

"No don't call her..." I said and think I nearly stumbled to the ground.

Denise helped me out the door and into her SUV. She smelled really good.

"What's going on? This isn't like you at all?" She said.

"Did you know?" I asked.

"Know what?"

"That my charming wife was fucking Desi Fuckin' King, my office's man-whore."

"No..."

"She admitted it and I left. She didn't sneak off with him last night?"

"No..." Denise looked troubled. "Bigger guy with greying hair? They danced a bit together at the club last night. They seemed... friendly. I though at first, maybe it was a mutual friend or someone at work...."

"Nope, he is the guy who bragged in front of half our floor at work that he was fucking my wife. Turns out it was true."

"I'm so sorry... I have to tell you; they got really friendly dancing. I'm sure he was feeling her up under her dress while they were kissing." Denise placed her hand on my thigh. "Again, so sorry... Anything I can do?"

"Take me to your place... I think I owe that bitch some payback."

"Dan?" Denise exclaimed, but didn't protest when my hand slid under her short skirt. I stopped right before the heat from her panties.

As soon as we stopped at her house, we started kissing. I was pretty tipsy, but she helped me in the door, as I pulled away at her clothes. Then I remember nothing.

**

Morning came too soon with a blinding light and the feeling of a drill going into my temple. I instantly knew I wasn't in a familiar bed; everything felt wrong. The warm body beside me was too tall to be my wife. With the loud rap on the bedroom window, my eyes snapped wide open to see I was in Denise's bed beside her, half naked. Then came the banging on the door, which had Denise flying up to grab her housecoat.

As soon as I heard the yelling, I searched for my pants, but couldn't find them. I headed out in my boxers.

"You fuckin' bitch," screamed Kristy, "How could you?"

"You're one to talk," yelled Denise back.

"I don't fuck friend's husbands."

"No, you just fuck around on your own," said Denise smugly as I walked out to see Kristy standing inside the door. She had tears in her face.

"That's what you think?" Kristy said to me, "You stupid fucking asshole. That's what you think?"

"You admitted it last night," I said reaching for my pants, which were hanging on the couch.

"I said I had sex with Desi King, not that I cheated," Kristy said.

"How does that work?" I said.

Kristy put her hand on her hip. "How? How about I dated him for ten months before we even met? He was my last boyfriend before we started dating. Does that work for you?"

All I heard was the rushing of water in my head for a second as my hung over mind tried to process everything. "No, you dated that monkey-guy..."