The Duke of F'ing Austin

Dee's eyes grew dark. "You saw him today? When did you do that? After I left?"

"Yes to all," I confidently replied. "I saw the two of you at lunch together, and I waited for him after his shift."

"What did you...what did he say?"

"Well, he called me a cuck, for starters. That means you've discussed our personal sex life with him, which pisses me off to no end. He talked like he has some ownership of you, or at least he tried to put himself on equal footing. When I told him to back off and started to leave, he screamed at my back that it was up to you. The thing is, Dee, he's absolutely correct about that. But I think he's lying about his wife. If I ask her, and I'm right, problem solved. He'll be too busy dealing with her wrath to bother you anymore. Also, if there's to be any retaliation, he'll try it with me. Sure he'll bitch about it to you, but that's where you need to be a team player and let him know it's over and should never have started."

When I set my mind to do something, I usually achieve it. I wanted The Duke's address, and I'm almost certain I have it. I hope I do. I'm sitting in my car outside the house, and I'm about to walk up and knock on the front door.

Dee was not happy for the next few days after our chat. She especially wasn't happy that I spied on her; she wasn't thrilled about my talk with the Duke either. She seemed to be of the mind that this was her mess to clean up. In other circumstances, I would agree. Not here. She was extremely worried about trying to get Duke's address, and it turned out her friend wouldn't give it to her anyway.

My wife told me that Duke and some of the other department managers went out for a few beers on Friday after work. That was when I followed him home. I allowed him to get a bit too far in front of me, but turning down his street, I caught the garage door rolling down just in time. I drove home. I would be returning the next day, which is now today. So I do one last run of possible conversations in my head, then then head to the door. After knocking, the front door opens, and I address Mrs. Austin.

Sarah's a beautiful woman, by any man's standards. Apparently though, she's not The Duke's wife, or his girlfriend. Stunned, I asked if Mrs. Austin is home.

"There is no Mrs. Austin," Sarah replies, "unless I've missed something huge. I'm Duke's roommate, and I've been living here for a little over a year. Oh Shit! What is this about? I mean, is he messing with your woman or something?"

"Yeah, or something. Why would you guess that? Have other husbands been knocking?" I ask.

"No...I mean, I shouldn't say."

She tries to cover her own curiosity and complicity. She had just confirmed for me that she's the pretend Izzy, and probably would have covered for the Duke if I'd settled for just a phone call.

"It's okay, you just did. Have a good day." I say as I turn to leave.

At least now my suspicions are confirmed. Time for a follow-up talk with The Duke of Fucking Austin.

"Did you go to his house," Dee asks nervously, "Did you talk to Duke's wife?"

"Well, I would have, if he'd ever bothered to get married." I could tell Dee didn't exactly believe me.

"A woman named Sarah claims to be his roommate. I believe her. She seemed too genuinely shocked to be pretending."

"Now what?" Dee asks.

"Now you tell him one more time, to leave you alone. No more lunches, no more sitting in my truck." I order her.

"That's not a problem. I've blown him off every time he's asked since the day you were watching us. What about you? You're not going to do something stupid are you?" At least her face shows concern.

"Stupid, no. Something, absolutely." I pause here. "If he doesn't get the message, then we're going to HR together. He's not only seducing you, he's also your boss. However, there's a risk to you as well. I mean, you've probably been seen together in your truck at lunch, so he could claim that you invited him. That would be easy to believe. You'll have to say it was friendly, and then he wanted more."

"And you're not going after him?" she inquires.

"No." I state flatly. That's a lie.

"Dee, we still have problems here. You let this...lothario get in your head, but I don't think that's all of it. I've known you most of my life. There's something going on in here," I point to head and circle it with my finger, "that needs addressing. I'm not going to be with any woman I don't trust, and right now, I have no idea if I can trust you again."

My wife looks at me, stunned, then with horror. I'm getting tired of seeing that look, so I continue. "We need to deal with The Duke of Fucking Austin, first and foremost. Then, like I said the other night, you and I need to see someone...a therapist. I need to know why this started and what we can do to stop it happening again. That's if you want to. I won't live like this, waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Dee comes into my study a few hours later with a hand written piece of paper. "Here are the names of three that sound decent. I'd like us to see a woman, only because I feel like a female can give me better insight about my feelings, and how I went so off the rails."

She pauses, looks down and then back into my eyes. "Devon, I'm sorry I did this to us. I'll do whatever I need to do to prove my love, and earn back your trust. That sounds hollow, I know, but I'm committed to getting the help and some solutions. I appreciate you dealing with Duke, even though it didn't seem like it earlier. You're right that he has had some kind of hold on my emotions, but I think you're also right that it's in my head, and not all about him. I've chased hundreds of players away over the years."

She comes tentatively towards me, and now I take her into my arms for a hug. "Dee," I whisper in her ear, "I believe you, for now. Thanks for taking the initiative. I'm committed just like you, but if you break your promises about Duke Austin, I think I'll have to leave. It's not an ultimatum, so don't take it that way. I'm just being honest about how I feel right now."

"Hi Duke."

This fucker always walks with his head down. He looks up with that same smirk. It's time to do something about that.

"You here for more talk, or do you want to get to it? I'll show you a few tricks I learned in the Navy."

I'm thinking, who the fuck talks like that. What a waste of human flesh. "Nope," is all I say.

"Well, what then?" he asks me indignantly.

"Just a simple question, actually. You ever see that movie 'Se7en'?"

He's perplexed, and a little put off. I can see he was expecting to 'duke' it out.

"What?" he asks stupidly.

I sigh for effect. "The movie, you know? Morgan Freeman, Kevin Spacey, Brad Pitt. Did you ever see it?"

"Yeah, I seen it, so what?"

"That's 'saw' dipshit. Anyway, if we were the characters in that movie, you're Brad Pitt." I halt again, hoping he has some smart ass comment to say about that comparison. He doesn't.

"You're Brad Pitt. Tall, handsome, debonair, slick talker. You're also too quick on the draw. You've got issues. Maybe even premature ejaculation. Me? I'm more of the Kevin Spacey type."

"Fuck off Devon. I've got better things to do, like figure out my next conversation with your wife." He's back to goading me. Good. I ignore him and continue.

"Yeah, see, the thing is, just like Kevin Spacey, I already have it all figured. I have probably sixteen ways to punish you, already planned and keeping myself out of trouble in the process." I didn't actually have sixteen, but it sounded appropriate. It doesn't seem to faze him though.

"Me too, Devon. I have your woman eating out of my hand. I've been sure to be seen with her, during our lunches, so no one can accuse me of anything. We've never been intimate, but that's coming. So take your sixteen, and shove them up your ass. You can't touch me at work. You can't kick my ass. Basically, you have no hope. No choice, but to accept it. Don't worry though. I'll send her back in one piece, although I doubt she's gonna want you on those nights."

I cannot remember a time, ever, where I actually wanted to kill someone so bad. The truth is, in normal conditions, The Duke could probably take me without much effort. These aren't normal circumstances. But, it isn't the place either. So I force a smile.

"Duke, let me break it down for you. My wife already knows you're a liar and has told you to back off. I met your wife, Sarah, yesterday. She wasn't exactly keen on the name Izzy, or the title. She didn't seem too happy to see me at the door either."

"You'll never see it coming when your genitals are ground into mincemeat. It will be on my schedule, and may not come for a long time. I'll be somewhere else. Probably in a room full of alibis. That's just for starters. It's going to continue time after time, until you get the message, pack up and leave. Move, quit, I don't care. Then, there's this flashy car. Your roommate, your family, some of the other wives and their husbands. I won't stop. You'll end up being my little bitch, when I'm finished."

"Maybe I should just pound the shit out of you now? Show you what's up." He's upset that his intimidation isn't working out. Time to show him Gwyneth's pretty head.

"Has Dee ever told you what I do for a living?" He's suddenly not in the mood to talk. I await his strike, but he stops at the last second, gathers himself.

"Yeah, you're some kind of salesman." The smirk is a tell-tale sign he's proud of himself.

"A pharmaceutical salesman, Duke. Do you have any idea of the shit I can put in Dee's food to fucking ruin your life, if you two become intimately involved? The kinds of disease that can't be traced back to me. It will just be two whores' words against mine. The things I can do to you could be picked up anywhere and transmitted." Only part of that is true, but he won't know it. Plus, it's now or never. I won't be back for a third talk.

"You'd never do something to Dee. You love her. Don't bullshit me." He seems unsure.

"Well, if she so much as kisses you, she's dead to me. You know how guys are, Duke. You may see yourself as an alpha-male, but at the end of the day, I'll teach you just how wrong that assumption is."

I turn to walk away. This was the worst part. The threats bring it to a head. Showing him my back is the ultimate disrespect, so I prepare to feel him blindside me. To my surprise, he doesn't pursue me. Oh well, it would have been...fun.

Dee walks in after work, and gets settled. We're at the kitchen table once more. I pour her a glass of wine, and settle back in my chair.

"I don't know what you did, but Duke told me today, we're not having lunch anymore. He says I'm too much trouble."

I chuckle, almost spitting out my beer in the process. "And, what did you say to that?"

"I told him to fuck off, of course. Something about how you talked to me...how you described things with him and I...well, that basically ruined it for me. You were right. About all of it. I let him in my head, but I wanted it. Some excitement. Something to break us...me, out of our slump. I won't try to fool you by saying I wasn't physically attracted to him, but with women, it's almost always about the excitement, the newness, the conversation. Getting to know someone new. We...I certainly know what men want in return. That's something we'll have to discuss with the therapist in depth, because I almost talked myself into giving it."

"Well, at least we won't have to go to HR. That should make you happy." I say it sarcastically, even though I didn't mean to. She picks up on it.

"I know I have a lot to do...with us, Devon. I'm hoping I can start tonight. I'm not pushing for sex, but I would like to cuddle and maybe watch a movie like we used to do. I need it for me, but I also need to show you how much I love you, and how grateful I am that you didn't kick me to the curb."

Okay, now maybe we we're going to be alright. Some closeness, some extra love and affection. Some ideas from the therapist. Like every arrogant, self-absorbed man, The Duke of Fucking Austin caved like a house of cards, when stood up to by an equal. He knows there's plenty of fish in the sea. It's like shooting fish in a barrel or easy pickins, so to speak. I need to focus on my wife, and she on me, if we we're going to get past this.

The first time The Duke of Fucking Austin was beaten about the face and ball sack, I was at home. Fortunately for me, so were Dee and the next door neighbors, eating, drinking, and socializing. It had been relatively easy. The big box store in question, has many associates who love to gossip. I found out about three, possibly four other women Duke had bedded. The first three were all that were needed. I put anonymous typed letters in their mailboxes. Laid it all out, and in all cases embellished a bit. I'm not sure which one went after Duke, but it doesn't matter. He learned a valuable lesson, although Dee told me it cost him a testicle. Don't fuck with another man's wife, especially when she's going through a funk or rough patch.