My Wife's Christmas Surprise (Cuckolding Shorts Book 5) by Ben Boswell

INTRODUCTION
     
    My boss is a sociopath. High-functioning and very successful. But a sociopath. He has a kind of burning intensity, physical swagger, and insistent personality that makes him very hard to resist.
    I first met him a little over a decade ago. He was an intern in my office back then, and he immediately managed to polarize opinion. I found him scrappy. Others thought he was a raging jerk. None of those folks is still around. Fired. Harassed into leaving. Downsized. In the past decade, I've done pretty well, gotten promoted from an account manager to an office director to a division head. Roger's done even better, rising from intern to corporate VP in that time, which is why he's now my boss.
    Get a couple of drinks into him and he'll start pontificating about his strategy for success. "No isn't an answer, it is an opening position in a negotiation. If you take no for an answer in business, you're a loser. If you take no for an answer from a broad, you're a fag." He's also the kind of guy who takes the word "never" as a challenge. Say it to him, and his eyes light up, and a thin smile crosses his face. He never forgets a challenge and never concedes defeat. Frankly, to be honest, he scares me a little.
    But more than that, he makes me scare myself. I've done things under his influence that I would never have normally. And I have to admit, they've almost always worked out.
    My wife Julie is beautiful and smart. I know every man says that. But my wife really is beautiful and smart. I could describe her long, mahogany hair, her hourglass figure. I could tell you that she does the New York Times crossword puzzle in about the time it takes me to run a 5k – at least through Friday; Sunday is a whole other story. I could tell you all sorts of things, but you’ll just have to take my word for it ultimately.
    I am not always sure what she sees in me. Or perhaps I do know, and I worry that at some point she’ll realize that I’ve conned her. That I’m not as successful, intelligent, and good-natured as she seems to think. That one day she’ll wake up and cotton to the fraud I’ve put over on her.
    She’s never given me any indication of that. Indeed, quite to the contrary, she often talks about our future. What our kids will be like, the addition we’ll put on our house ultimately, even plans for a second honeymoon once we get to our twenty-fifth anniversary. She’s full of plans, and I’m always in the mix. That’s reassuring. And a lot of pressure.

ONE
     
    Roger tore the draft contract in half and threw it in the air. It rained down like confetti all over his otherwise pristine desk.
    “This is shit,” he hissed.
    “Best we could do given the time constraints,” I replied.
    He scowled at me.
    Roger is the kind of guy who won't let what he considers a "mere technicality" get between him and what he wants. Unfortunately, with Roger, that term covers a lot more situations than in normal usage.
    Working for Roger is always a high-wire act of dicey deals, creative accounting, and most often bait-and-switch negotiations carried off with little more than his lunatic audacity. I've burned a lot of bridges, usually with little more than the vague expectation that Roger would look out for me.
    He’s always delivered so far. Which, it occurred to me, would be a good entry in a list of “famous last words.”
    This year was supposed to be an extra big year. Roger had been promising great numbers. Greater than great. The best. Ever.
    I knew better. Our year was actually riding on the Transcom deal. Long story short, it was a megadeal, and those fuckers had us over a barrel because of the way various deadlines aligned. If we wanted to close it before the end of the fiscal year, we’d have to give blood. On the other hand, the longer it dragged out, the better our position got. So, here was the trade off: Pad our numbers now and get a big bonus before Christmas, or kick the deal down the road and book revenue for