“I want you to fuck my wife,” he said.
I was lying in Glen’s bed when he said it. We’d just finished having sex.
“Really,” he said. “I want to watch you fuck my wife.”
I glanced over at the nightstand by the bed. She looked like an attractive enough woman, judging from their wedding picture. But the situation was weird. I told him I wasn’t interested.
“Please,” he started to plead. “I’ve been working on this for years. Trying to convince her to fuck someone else while I watch. I think she’s ready.”
“You’re being foolish,” I told him. “You don’t really want this. You don’t know where it will lead.”
But he kept begging. I told him I’d think about it. Then I got dressed and got the hell out of there. I had no intention of ever going back.
“Why do men always have to ask for more?” I asked myself.
When I first met Glen we’d worked at the same office. I was used to coworkers flirting with me, but he was extremely forward.
“Look,” I finally said, “I don’t date co-workers, and I don’t date married guys.”