Using Sex For Revenge Is Always Wrong

Weaponizing sex is a toxic form of manipulation

In my professional career, I meet a lot of strong-willed and arrogant people. This is common when you’re in a high pressure, fast-moving industry where intelligence and ambition are critical elements of success.

Very few of my direct, professional colleagues are women — the area of finance that I’m in is considerably male-dominated, even for a heavily male-dominated industry. I can literally count on one hand the number of women who I’ve worked with as colleagues or know as peers at competing firms.

Esther was one of the few women that I have worked with over the years.

She was a hard-driving professional woman with an acerbic tongue and sharp wit. She may also be in the top five of the smartest people that I’ve ever worked with — her intellect and ability to draw disparate data together off the top of her head and create unique analysis from it was exceptional.

She was also arrogant and stubborn.

I admired her talent and intellect, I knew she respected me for many of the same reasons, but we spent 80% of the time butting heads.

The other 20% of the time, we were fucking.

Fighting Our Way Into Each Other’s Arms

One evening, a “tiger team” that Esther and I were part of were staying back at work late pulling together some data for a deal we were working on.

She and I bitterly disagreed over this particular transaction. Esther was gung-ho and adamant that the underlying data was better than the analysis was showing. I, on the other hand, said the risk of the data being right created a situation where it made the deal price on the transaction too high.

Esther and I spent the whole day sniping at each other.

She was absolutely hell-bent on proving me wrong, so she stayed back to do more research, create more models, and finding that single thread that pulled the whole deal together.

I stayed back to snipe at her because I was enjoying the fact that she was struggling to land the knockout blow.

At about 10:15pm, Esther walked into my office holding her laptop with a frustrated look on her face. She’d pulled some different market information, stuck it into a model that one of the analysts had constructed for us earlier in the day and the analysis didn’t make sense.

The idea of her asking for help was pretty foreign to her and it was odd to hear her say it, “Can you look at this? I don’t know if it means I’m right or you’re right.”

I looked at the analysis from the model, I checked the underlying data and logic, and it showed that she was right, but that the timeframe she was thinking about was wrong.

“You’re right about the deal, but I’m right about the value. But you’re more right than I am, so I’m going to agree with your position on the offer, but highlight the timeframe problem.”

Esther walked around my desk, straddled me in the chair I was sitting on and kissed me hard. She had my face in her hands and was pulling me into her mouth while forcing her tongue deep into my mouth.

I pulled her dress shirt out of the top her skirt, she undid the buttons and I pulled her smallish, B-Cup right breast out of the bra and proceeded to suck on the nipple.

Esther stood up slightly while I devoured her nipple and slid her panties off from under her skit. I knew where this was going so I unbuckled my belt, undid my pants and pulled them down past my knees.

She sat back down in my lap and I slid deep inside her.

My Herman Miller office chair got a work out as Esther and I fucked hard and fast until first she came and then a few minutes later, so did I.

The Next Day

We had a meeting at 9am to finalize our deal position, so as the “tiger team” assembled, I saw Esther enter the room. I tried to catch her eye but she either wasn’t interested in making eye contact, or she was actively trying to avoid it.

She was also wearing a pantsuit, which was the first time I ever saw Esther not wearing a skirt.

The meeting kicked off, I opened by explaining that Esther had found her thread, I highlighted my concerns about some timing issues but conceded that she was right on the analysis and that I supported her position.

As the meeting wrapped up, our CEO who we both reported to, asked Esther and me to stay behind in the meeting room and close the door.

Charlie was a great guy, he was a pillar of the industry and I’d never met anyone that didn’t respect him. He looked uncomfortable.

“I started this firm in the 80’s and those were wild times. The hall security camera picked up you two fucking last night in DJ’s office. It was brought to my attention this morning, I made them delete the footage ENTIRELY, and only three people have seen it. For Christ’s sake, close the fucking door next time.”

I glanced at Esther, she was bright red as Charlie got up and walked out of the meeting room.

As he closed the door behind him, I laughed out loud.

Esther was flustered, “Fuck! Now he thinks you gave in because I fucked you.”

I found that amusing, “Esther, Charlie knows me well enough to know that I value doing a good deal way more than getting some pussy.”

She looked at me with a steely gaze contemplating what I’d just said, “Yeah, you’re right. Fuck! He knows you’re the fucking best at what you do.”

As soon as those last words were out of her mouth, you could see she wanted to pull them back. In what we do for a living, conceding that someone is better than you is a major sign of weakness.

I gave Esther a pass by instantly changing the subject, “What’s with the pants? I’ve never seen you in anything but a tight skirt, three fingers above the knee.”

She told me that she woke up that morning with bruises on her legs from where she was digging into the chair and they were quite noticeable.

“Let’s go celebrate tonight and I’ll take you somewhere to show you the bruises.”

A Bridge Too Far

Esther and I carried on seeing each other for about eighteen months. Six months after that first evening, she was offered a senior role in the same firm as her husband, Roger.

Roger was a very good looking banker who was one of the best-dressed men that I’ve ever come across. He spent far too much of his time focused on his appearance and not enough on his career because it completely stagnated and his wife was hired into their firm at a much higher salary and position.

Friends at their firm told me that Roger was making the right noises, but his ego was crushed.

About a year after she left, I got a call from Esther late in the afternoon asking to meet up that night at a hotel in the city — she said she’d already made the booking and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

When I got to the room, Esther was hitting the champagne really hard. She told me that she’d closed a significant deal earlier that day (I already knew, my little birds had told me) and that she’d found out the night before that Roger was cheating on her.

I didn’t think much of the cheating thing because frankly, she and I had been having sex for a year and a half.

“He came home yesterday and I was sitting on the sofa. He’d obviously been drinking. He walked up to me, dropped his pants and told me to give him a blow job. I could taste another woman’s pussy on him… I could smell her.”

There was nothing I could really add to that. Interestingly, Roger and Esther had a pretty aggressive sex life from what I could gather based on what she’d told me over the last year or so. They would switch off between dominant and submissive roles and order each other to sexually please one another at random times.

Esther had a “no oral sex” rule with me — I couldn’t go down on her and she wouldn’t give me a blow job, she said those were intimate things between her and her husband. I always found that rule interesting but went along with it as blow jobs weren’t a big deal for me.

She put her bottle of champagne down and lunged at me. We had very enthusiastic sex and I showered quickly and went home.

The next morning, I got a call from Esther. She tells me that she “repaid the favor” and I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“I went right home last night after you left, walked upstairs to our bedroom, stripped off naked and sat on Roger’s face. I made him eat me out. I made him taste you and taste your cum.”

You know how sometimes you hear something, and it takes your brain a second to process what the hell you’d just heard? I was having one of those moments.

While I sat on the other end of the phone shocked, Esther was laughing hysterically, “He knew! He didn’t say anything, but he knew!”

I told her I had to go and I went out for a walk.

This was the second time in my life where a woman made her husband go down on her after she’d been with me as punishment for their infidelity.

I was there the first time it happened and it felt weird watching it, but this time, I felt downright dirty. It was like I’d been used in the worst possible way.

In my mind, I’d decided that I would need to talk to Esther and tell her that I couldn’t see her anymore. I thought she’d taken things too far and put me into a position where I didn’t feel comfortable.

After a few days, she called me.

“Look, Roger and I had a chat last night. We admitted that we’d each been unfaithful and agreed, no names. He and I are going to stick to monogamy now, so I won’t be able to see you anymore.”

The sweet feeling of relief swept over me as I listened to Esther tell me about her recommitment to her husband. I told her that I was happy for her and Roger, and that they would surely be successful now that their communication lines were open.

Deep down, I knew that Roger would cheat on her again. Esther had emasculated him professionally and then sexually — Roger was a fragile, superficial man, he would need to try and assert some dominance.

Three months later, Esther called me and asked if I wanted to meet, Roger had cheated again and she felt like having some fun. I would have given Roger six months, but he was clearly more insecure than I’d imagined.

I politely declined, explaining that I good at the moment and not looking to start anything new.

The truth was, I felt that Esther had used me in the worst possible way and then when she got her revenge, she discarded me.

While her husband lacked self-respect and dignity, I most certainly didn’t, so that was the end of my time with Esther.

Author’s note: Names and places changed to protect everyone’s privacy.