The Cuckold Club: Executive Relief

My wife wants to do a lot more for the company, particularly for my boss.

This is a multipart series featuring one of my favorite characters Alexis, her hubby Ralph and his boss the incorrigible Lance Reynolds.

The oven timer rang as the lamb roast I had been working on all afternoon reached perfection. I grabbed the oven gloves and headed for the oven. Opening the door, the pleasant scent of rosemary wafted from the oven. It was accompanied by the heady aroma of the perfectly cooked lamb.

“You’ve done it again Alexis,” I said to myself, smiling widely as I lifted the roast out of the oven and set it on a plate to rest. I’m not normally one to boast, but it looked incredible. It had to, everything had to be perfect tonight. My husband’s boss was coming to dinner.

Normally I wouldn’t care this much about a meal, but my husband Ralph had been working toward this promotion for years and after closing his last deal it seemed like he was on the cusp of getting it. Now we just had to make sure we made a good impression on his boss to ensure that when the time came, Ralph was the only choice on his mind.

As far as employers went, Lance Reynolds, CEO of Reynolds Capital, was a pretty good boss. Reynolds Capital ran like a well-oiled machine, the staff loved him, a combination of great office perks and the best Christmas party in town kept them happy. Some might say he bought their affection, but on the money Ralph made, I was delighted Ralph had found such a great boss to work for. His last employer had been a real ass.

Ralph was an accounts manager, but he made at least fifteen percent more at Reynolds Capital than he had at any job before, and I could only imagine what would happen to his pay packet when he got the promotion.

I was going to make sure it happened.

Some might have called inviting the boss over for dinner cheating. I considered it, fighting on favorable terrain. Lance had always been friendly at the Christmas party. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was my choice of attire. I tended to favor dresses and skirts that showed a bit of leg, a girl has to use what she’s got, and I have legs that some men would kill to have wrapped around them.

Ralph never seemed to mind the attention they brought, he told me he enjoyed knowing that he had a hot wife and that he enjoyed rubbing their noses in it. I don’t think Ralph had any idea what a hotwife was, if he did he’d have probably thought better of giving me any ideas. But, that was Ralph for you, lovable and a little naive but he was a nice guy.

We’d met five years ago; I’d been tending bar at an upscale bar to pay for my tuition. It was the kind of bar frequented by lawyers, investment bankers and other similarly cash afflicted men. That’s why I’d picked it in the first place, generous tippers meant my debt disappeared far faster than it would have if I’d been stuck in some little dive in the outer suburbs.

Of course, it had got me in my fair share of trouble too. Before I’d met Ralph I was a little wild. The bar had been rich hunting grounds for finding excitable men that were eager to please. I’m can’t lie, I rode them hard and left them wanting more. But all that changed when I met Ralph. He was smart, funny and kindhearted. He may have been almost a decade older than me, at forty, and fresh out of his first marriage.

His wife had up and left, leaving him and his eighteen-year-old daughter, Callie behind. He was a refreshing change of pace in my chaotic life and before I knew it, he’d put a ring on it. He may not have been the most gifted lover that I’d ever had, but he loved me and we’d built a beautiful life here at Tall Springs. It was half an hour outside the city, but a great lifestyle neighborhood. Unfortunately trying to keep up with the neighbors was a full-time job and one of the many reasons we needed the raise.

I pulled a stack of plates out of the cupboard and grabbed a knife to start carving the lamb. Ralph would be here any minute, and his boss wouldn’t be far behind. I was just about to carve the first slice when my phone started ringing.

I glanced down at the screen. Trina Goldman. What did she want?

Trina was the bane of my existence. She was the self-appointed gossip monger of Tall Springs, head of the neighborhood watch and all-around pain in my ass. She was the kind of woman who’d leave anonymous passive aggressive notes in your letterbox. The air of superiority she liked to exude was so tangible you could have burst it with a pin.

I snatched up the phone. “Hi Trina.”

“Alexis, darling, glad I caught you,” Trina began.

“You did,” I replied, juggling the phone in one hand and the carving knife in the other. “But I have my hands full with dinner. What can I do for you?”

On hearing that, most people would have the common courtesy to call you back. Trina on the other hand was happy to be an imposition any time. Her husband Frank also worked for Reynolds Capital, and she’d taken that as a perfect excuse to insert herself into my life.

“I heard along the grapevine that you were having Lance Reynolds over for dinner tonight, bold move dear. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Trina teased.

I set down the carving knife, perhaps to avoid the temptation to stab something. Trina was always sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. When she wasn’t doing that she was lording her husband’s success over her neighbors. I swear if I had to hear about her new Mercedes one more time, I was going to slash her tires.

“Just helping my husband out,” I replied. “Ralph’s been working his ass off. He’s earned that promotion.”

“Hmmm,” Trina mused, not sounding convinced in the least. “Working for the executive branch…it’s not for everyone Alexis. It’s rigorous, demanding, work. Lance can call day or night, frankly it’s exhausting. Maybe it’s best to stick to your lane, where you’re most comfortable.”

If I hadn’t heard Ralph’s car in the driveway, I might have told Trina exactly where she could stick her advice.

“Thanks Trina, but I think we’re fine.” With that I killed the call, slid my phone across the bench and thought of how much I was going to enjoy sticking it to her when Ralph got the job. That would serve her right, the smug little stepford wife.

I paused for a minute to check my reflection in the mirrored splash back of our kitchen. My preparation for dinner hadn’t been entirely culinary. I’d spent some time at the salon and my hazelnut curls were resting neatly against the strappy shoulders of my little black dress. It was a tight little number I hadn’t worn in months. It’s neckline looked like it was fighting a losing battle to contain my breasts and it was perhaps an inch or two shorter than might be proper but it never failed to garner attention from me, and I felt couldn’t hurt Ralph’s chances to dress up for the occasion.

Men seldom complain about being burdened at the sight of an attractive woman and I knew from experience that Lance was a bit of a flirt. Though he might have been twenty years my senior it wouldn’t hurt to laugh at his jokes and show a little skin. Being able to stick it to Trina only made me more determined to ensure we succeeded.

As I picked up the carving knife, Ralph made his way into the kitchen.

“That smells amazing,” he said as his eyes settled on me. They traced a long slow journey from my eyes down the front of my dress, where they lingered lecherously for a moment before they continued down my legs.

I stood there enjoying the effect my outfit was having on him. A set of black heels completed the ensemble and added a few inches to my legs that they didn’t strictly need but they looked dynamite, so I couldn’t resist.

“You look amazing,” he added, drawing a deep breath as he strode across the kitchen and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me toward him. As his crotch pressed against my dress, I could feel his excitement.

It was immediate, tangible and enticing.

It had been more than a week since we had last had sex; which was at least six days too many for me. Ralph had been burning the midnight oil trying to close his latest deal, and while I understood the need for him to perform in the office. I really needed him to be performing a little more often in our bedroom.

I pressed back into him for a moment, savoring the feel of him against me.

“As much as I’d like to make use of that, your boss is going to be here any minute,” I whispered quietly.

“That’s a pity,” Ralph replied, grabbing my hips. “I’d love to bend you over our dining table right now.”

“Hold that thought,” I replied, lifting the hem of my mini dress so he could see the thin sliver of fabric that made up the back of the black thong I’d picked out for him. There wasn’t much to it, leaving a rather full view of my ass. One I knew he’d appreciate.

“We can have all the fun you like, just as soon as we get Lance over the line,” I teased. “You’ve worked too hard to come up short now. Let’s get you that promotion.”

“I like the sound of that,” he replied, a smile crossing his face. “With you on my side, I don’t see how he can refuse. He’ll be far too distracted with what you’re wearing.”

I gave a little twirl. “You think he’ll like it?”

“What man with a pulse wouldn’t?” Ralph replied his eyes roving hungrily over my body.

“Perfect. Mind helping me get this on the table?” I asked, offering him the carving knife.

“Sure,” he answered, taking the knife. Ralph set about carving the roast while I piled roast vegetables on the plates.

“Is that an apple pie I can smell?” Ralph asked.

“I baked a fresh one, I thought it would make a good dessert.”

“Smells incredible,” he answered, shooting a glance at the oven. “I’m famished.”

The doorbell chimed and I almost dropped the roast potato I was holding. Looking from the plates to Ralph, I set down the tray of roast vegetables.

“Carry on, dear. I’ll grab the door,” I said. Wiping my hands on a dish towel before smoothing my dress and heading for the door. Grabbing the large wrought iron handle I pulled the heavy door inward.

There on our front step stood Lance Reynolds.

The CEO of Reynolds Capital wore an open collared shirt with an impeccably tailored Italian suit, holding a bottle of wine. His shoes were so well polished that I could just about see my reflection in them.

Lance had to be in his early fifties, but clearly he spent his fair share of time in the gym, as his suit was clearly working to contain his well-muscled physique. The five o’clock shadow on his strong jawline had the slightest hint of salt in its shades of pepper and I found myself staring just a little as I fought to find the words for a suitable greeting. I held out my hand.

“H…hi Mr. Reynolds, sorry to keep you waiting. I was just in the kitchen.”

“Oh please, call me Lance,” he replied, taking my hand in his, he raised it to his lips and planted a genteel kiss on the back of it. “Thank you for inviting me to your home.”

“It’s our pleasure,” I replied, blushing just a little at the gesture. “Please come in.”

“I parked in the driveway, I haven’t blocked anyone out, have I?” Lance asked motioning to his car. A black Porsche, that was parked neatly on one edge of the driveway.

It was a nice car, and I couldn’t help but enjoy how it looked in the driveway. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Lance was worth a small fortune. I guess the surprising part was that he hadn’t managed to snare some hot young thing half his age to help him spend it.

“Not at all, Ralph’s daughter Callie is overseas for another week. So it’s just us at home.”

Lance smiled. “Wonderful, I feel I’ve already been enough of an imposition. Hopefully this will make up for it. He held out the bottle of wine. It was a Bordeaux. I didn’t recognize the vineyard, which meant it was likely well outside our usual price range.

“You’re too kind. This will go lovely with dinner,” I replied as I took the bottle. “I hope you enjoy roast lamb?”

“I’m sure it will be delightful,” he replied, placing a hand on my lower back and steering me back toward the house. “Shall we? Lovely as this dress is, I can’t have you catching a cold on my account.”

I blushed at the compliment and didn’t know quite what to say as Lance guided me into my house like it was his own. Come to think of it, he had paid for it.

Turns out Alexis might be on the menu. Enjoy the steam in part 2 below:

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