My wife, Ashley, and I bought a house and hired James and his crew to do some renovations to it before we moved in. I didn’t want to hire James as a contractor, but my wife insisted on choosing him. James was about 6’2”, had the body of a football player, and was the complete physical opposite of me. He lived in the neighborhood, and he and my wife got to know one another through mutual friends. They also ran into each other often at the local gym.
When James learned of the renovations we wanted, he revealed his handyman talents to my girl. I couldn’t blame James or any guy for wanting to be friends with my girl – she was the hottest, fittest, sexiest woman in our neighborhood, and I was the lucky guy she married. At any rate, since an established trust was already in place, hiring James to be our contractor seemed like a no-brainer.
James and Mike were blue-collar guys. With their blonde hair and blue eyes, both were heavy-set but not obese. Rob also had a linebacker’s physique and was as manly as you could get. He wore sports-team attire on the job, spoke about women as if they were objects, and even referred to Ashley a couple of times as a ‘classy broad.’ The three of them got along well with Ashley, but it was James in particular who got all of his attention.
James constantly referred to me as ‘sport,’ I think it was because I weighed a hundred pounds less than him, listened to pop-music that he didn’t like, dressed, and groomed well instead of wearing flannel shirts and not combing my hair. He was the polar opposite of me in every single way.
Every time I saw them talking, though, I caught James eying my girl up and down, checking out her beautiful rack, tight ass, and curly blond hair. She was completely oblivious to the fact that James was the neighborhood bully. His assertiveness, aggressiveness, and attitude kept you on your toes – you didn’t want to get on the big jocks’ bad side. Plenty of guys in our neighborhood were thought of as wimps because of the way James publicly humiliated them. He liked to do these things to get a rise out of people and loved to make guys look bad in front of their girls. This did not work against James – girls were drawn to his bad-boy appeal.
One day I came home, and James was having a beer with Ashley on the couch. It startled me, as they were sitting right beside each other, almost intimately. They barely knew each other, so their closeness was an odd sight. My wife was very affectionate towards him, and he loved it. When they saw me enter, neither one of them got up or moved. Laryssa invited me to join them for a drink. James, who didn’t even get up or greet me when I came home, gave me a look that screamed “Leave us alone. Now.”
I excused myself to get some work done and left the two of them alone, though I could hear traces of their conversation at times. At one point, Ashley was on the edge of her seat listening to James brag about some of the things he had done to “a few sissy cuckolds in our neighborhood.” When he nodded to me saying the word “sissy,” he got a giggle out of my wife, making James smile confidently.
James came by the next day an hour before his crew just as I was getting ready to leave for work. When he saw me answer the door, he looked irritated, almost as if he wasn’t expecting me to be home. When I invited him in, James asked me if I had any car wax in my garage. When I told him where he could find some, I was caught off guard when he told me to “make myself useful” and wash his car before I left. My wife was standing behind us when this happened, and his sudden dominance of me was making her bite her bottom lip.
“You’ll find the hand-vac in the backseat,” James said to me, tossing me his keys. I failed to catch them, even though he was only 10’ away from me, which made James facepalm and shake his head. He looked at Ashley while thumbing over his shoulder to me, chuckling. This dumb jock was subtly making me look like a wimp in front of my wife. James placed a finger on my shoulder and pushed, and just like that, I was on my ass at the front door looking up at the big jock. James gave me a thumbs-up and shut the door in my face. Ashley made no attempt to check to see if I was okay.
It took me almost a half hour to hose the mud off his big truck. For some reason, I wanted to leave our meathead contractor with a good impression. I was proud of the way I made his truck shine. When I came back inside, Ashley and James were sitting on the couch, the meathead’s thick arm around my girl’s shoulders. James was sitting so close to her that Ashley was almost cuddled up with him. James got up and grabbed the keys out of my hand as he walked past me without even acknowledging the work I did on his truck. His crew had arrived to get started on the job.
I didn’t run into James and the other foreman for a few days after that. Ashley seemed to have the project under control, and I didn’t want to second guess her. Plus, I had my work to keep me busy. I was out of the house before they arrived and they were long gone before my return each day.
A couple of days later, when I pulled up my driveway, I saw that James’ truck was parked in front of our garage. Ashley was leaning against his truck while he stood in front of her, almost hovering over her. His forearm rested against the door window, and she rested the back of her head as if his giant forearm was a pillow. My entrance seemed to be his cue to leave. James looked at me and thumbed outward, signaling for me to back out of the driveway so that he could pull out. I was a distance away so I couldn’t be sure, but I could have sworn I saw James kiss my wife on the lips for a couple of seconds before getting in his car. I didn’t think anything of it though. After all, they were friends!
They had a time frame to complete the project, but judging by the lack of work done to the house, I had a feeling they weren’t going to meet their deadline. I decided to have a one on one conversation with James about the work being done, and how I felt he and his team were slacking on the job. Ashley had visited the house many times on her lunch hours without me, so I had assumed things were progressing. I felt like her friendship with James was blinding her employer-employee mindset.
When I got to the house, no one was in sight! Hearing voices in the back, I walked to the patio to see two of his foremen – Mike and Rob, chilling out, having a smoke. Feeling a towering presence behind me, I turned around to see James’ 6’2” frame; his linebacker-physique making mine look puny in comparison to him. I asked to talk to him privately, not wanting to embarrass him in front of his staff.
“Good, you’re here,” James said to me, the first time he actually seemed happy to see me, though not for the reason I expected. He instructed me to wax his car before he and his crew left. He told me to hurry because they had tickets to some hockey game in the evening, and they wanted to grab dinner first.
“You only hosed it down last time,” James said to me while lightly slapping my cheeks with his thick catcher’s mitt-sized hand. “Not to mention you did a half-ass job, at that.” I was beyond shocked. This guy was talking to me like he was the man of the house.
“Look, James,” I said, suddenly bold. “I hosed down your car without so much as a thank-you from you. I let that slide. Now you want me to wax your car? Are we forgetting who’s paying who here?”
Now I had James’ attention. He stood still with his back towards me before slowly turning around. His eyebrow was raised as we walked up to me, clutched me by the shirt, and effortlessly pulled me in so we were face-to-face. My hands started to tremble, and a sweat broke out under my armpits.
“And, um, well,” I stammered. “You guys, um, you’re kinda behind schedule…and I, uh, was sort of wondering…when you think you’ll be able to…you know, finish the job I paid you for?”
I looked up at James who had his arms crossed. His eyebrow was still raised, and he was soaking in the pathetic display of inferiority before him.
“So, like, we should, um, talk about…deadlines…and…I don’t…you know, uh, wanna…have to replace you guys, you know what I mean, man?” I babbled with my eyes now firmly on the floor. James took a step forward, and I took two steps back. He got in my personal space, and I backed away to allow him to take more of it. I looked up at the meathead contractor again, but this time he had an amused smirk on his face, an expression that suggested he had me pegged.
James didn’t need to respond. He didn’t get angry. He didn’t get upset. He didn’t even flinch when I ambiguously threatened to replace him and his crew. He just stood in front of me, looking down into my eyes, unresponsive, arms still crossed. Over my shoulder, I felt Mike and Rob now watching on. I was putting on quite the show for these alpha males.
Wanting to end the awkward position I was in, I immediately back peddled by apologizing to James, making Mike and Rob laugh out loud. I kept going, telling James how out of line for challenging the way he worked. I told him that I was sorry for undermining and questioning his work process. I asked him to carry on, telling the big bully to “keep up the good work” with the meekest thumbs-up ever seen. I then ran out the front door and heard all three guys break out laughing as the door closed behind me.
That incident didn’t do me any favors as far as how James’ crew treated me. Mike and Rob were just as intimidating to me as their boss was. As the days passed and work around the house progressed, I found that the trio of foremen were somewhat cold to me. When I was home, all three of them told to fetch them tools while they were on ladders, bottles of water when they were thirsty, and even told to make lunch on occasion. It was like the foremen saw me as the help rather than the guy who was paying them. Mike and Rob seemed to follow James’ direction on the job, so I assumed they were treating me like a minion because they saw James do it.
Later that night while lying in bed, my wife’s phone buzzed with an incoming message alert. The message was from James. Ashley smiled and began chatting with him. I picked up a book to read as she did, but was distracted by all sensual moans coming from Ashley with each incoming text she received. I looked over Ashley’s shoulder to read her correspondence with our meathead contractor.
“…yes, I wanna see it, don’t make me beg.” My wife’s message to the neighborhood bully read.
“You sure you wanna open up this can of worms?” James replied.
“Fuck yeah,” Ashley said.
Suddenly, a picture came in that caused Ashley to squeeze her legs together tightly. With her phone in hand, my wife hastily excused herself to ]use the bathroom, but not before pulling her night table drawer open and yanking something out of it. Jumping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her, I could hear a harmonious blend of an electric buzz and her sensual moans. It was strange behavior, but I just chalked it up to womanly issues and went back to reading my book.
One day I decided to contribute to the work in an effort to fit in with the guys. The objective was to make myself look manly in front of Ashley, as I was, without question, the last masculine person in the house. In view of my girl, I attempted to pick up some sand weighing 100-lbs. I barely got the bag a foot off the ground as I sweated grunted to lift it. Joseph walked up behind my girl and wrapped his arms around her waist as the two of them enjoyed the entertainment I was putting on for them. Suddenly, James decided to cheer me on’ when Mike and Rob walked into the room.
“Yeah, sport, C’mon!” the head foreman said in a sarcastic tone, everyone the guys snicker in my direction. “You can do it, little dude!”
My wife was trying hard to conceal her laughter by using her hand to cover up her mouth. She turned around and hugged James, her expression concealed by his body. Humiliated, I dropped the bag and ran out of the room, not seeing Mike stick his leg out when I passed him. I fell face first into a pair of dirty work boots. Seeing that James and Ashely were the only ones standing in a carpeted area, I deduced that it was the head foreman’s aroma I was breathing in. I couldn’t get up because someone – either Mike or Rob – was stepping on my back.
“Let him up, guys,” Ashley said out loud. She should have been outraged that the help was picking on her husband, and yet I could hear a tone of amusement in her voice. There was no attempt from her to console me. I crawled out the front door, got in my car, and drove away to wait for the guys to go home. I had to fire our contractors – they had made a fool out of me in my own house!
After pouting in my car for a good 20 minutes, I walked back inside my house to confront the boys and fire them. Mike and Rob were sitting on the couch playing video games. Both their legs were stretched out on the coffee table, their bare feet on the picture frame displaying my wedding photo. It didn’t look like any work had been done after I ran off. I asked them where James was.
“He’s in the bedroom with your girl,” Rob said to me, nodding to the master bedroom while hitting buttons on my controller. He turned his head my way, but only to take a sip of his fountain drink. I stared at the cup wondering how they had time to go for lunch and play video games, and yet project productivity seemed to be behind schedule. My confusion was interrupted by what sounded like bedsprings bouncing from behind me. Rob heard the sound, too, and began chuckling.
“By the sounds of things, they’re gonna be a while.” He said taking another sip from his soft drink. The straw made a noise that suggested he was almost finished drinking it. “You might wanna leave again, pal. You might not like what you hear if you stay.”
As he said that, I realized that the volume on the video game’s volume was so loud that it drowned out the commotion coming from my bedroom. The bedsprings were squeaking at this point.
“What is going on in there?” I asked the boys. With neither one of them acknowledging me, I began to walk towards the bedroom, but suddenly, Mike spoke up.
“Your girl will come out when she’s ready,” He said, also not without looking in my direction. “Dude, you’re fuckin’ distracting us, leave for a while.”
“Because we said so.” Rob sternly said, his eyes now locked on mine. There was no friendliness about his comment. My knees buckled, and I gulped feeling intimidated.
“FUCK YEAH, James!” I heard my wife shout out right afterward. Our bed’s headboards began hammering against the wall violently. I wanted to run in there and check on my wife, but I froze. Why couldn’t I man up? Why couldn’t I just fire these assholes and throw them out of my house?!
“Um…maybe I’ll come back later,” I timidly said out loud.
“What a great idea,” Rob said sarcastically while handing me his now-empty fountain drink cup. “Hey, toss this on your way out, will ya? Thanks.”
“Yeah, and don’t hurry back,” Mike said as I was halfway out the door. He muttered something further as I shut the door behind me. I’m not sure what, but I thought I heard the words “fucking clueless” in his sentence.
I drove to the nearest bar and saw my friend Andrew there talking to the bartender. I bought us both beers and poured my heart out to Andrew about what had transpired. Much like Ashley, Andrew didn’t seem to feel sympathetic towards me and had a smirk on his face as I told him my story. I was shocked to learn that Andrew heard about what happened before I told him – he and Rob were good friends, and Rob had texted him about Mike stepping on my back and making me breathe in the sweat from James’ work boot. That was how I learned who had stepped on me.
Realizing that I wasn’t going to have the proverbial ‘shoulder to cry on,’ I decided to make my way back home. However, Andrew placed his hand on my shoulder when I motioned to leave, telling me to ‘hang back a little while.’ Maybe it was just me, but when I repeated my intention to leave, Andrew tightened the grip on my shoulder.
“Eh…just stay put,” Andrew said to me raising his eyebrow. “No one likes a fuckin’ cockblocker, trust me-ah…”
I got comfortable in the barstool I was already sitting in and ordered another drink, seeing no harm from mingling with Andrew a little longer. Part of me was lost on the last sentence he said to me though. In what capacity could he see me as a ‘cockblocker’?!
About an hour later, Andrew got a text on his phone. He chuckled, looked over at me with a smirk, then thumbed towards the pub door.
“Eh…you can go home now-ah…” Andrew said. I could hear the bartender snicker as I got up. It was as if the two of them knew something I didn’t. After saying goodbye to Andrew, I quickly glanced at his phone and saw a text correspondence that read the following:
ANDREW: “How was she?”
JAMES: “Tight AF. U can send the cuck home now. I left him a mess to clean up, LOL. Thanks for stalling the little guy, bro.”
That’s all I could see before Andrew sensed me looking over his shoulder. He looked me in the eyes as if to see if I clued into something, then that familiar smirk returned when he saw I hadn’t.
I hailed a cab home, and when I walked inside, I could hear my wife showering, and as I looked around the bedroom, I noticed the place was slightly in disarray. The bed was askew, and my pillow was soaking wet. Upon closer inspection, I realized the bed wasn’t pushed; it was repeatedly rocked in the position it had originally been in based on the marks on the hardwood floor.
My bare foot touched something warm and wet – a large and somewhat transparent puddle that felt thick as it squished between my foot and the linoleum. Beside it, the clothes my wife had been wearing before I left were scattered on the floor.