Your Husband’s Boss (Audio Script)

Stories

I’m not really someone who keeps secrets, especially from you.

I can’t even keep it to myself when I buy you a gift.

I have to tell you what it is immediately.

But this… it started as just a little crush.

Something that felt fun and a little scandalous to think about now and then.

It wasn’t something I was actively hiding from you—it was just this fantasy that lived in the back of my head every time we went out with your co-workers or the holiday parties at your office.

I never had any intention of actually telling you about it.

It felt too… personal, in a way.

Like it might be something that pushed us apart instead of bringing us closer together.

I wondered too if it might hurt your job or your relationship with him if you knew…

But… you actually… you took it really well that night when I let it slip that I was attracted to your boss.

I was worried, of course, about how you would react.

But… it was a really nice conversation.

We haven’t been really frank and open about our sex lives like that in a really long time.

And the way it ended… well, it sounds like watching me with another man is something you are very interested in doing, starting with your boss.

And lately, you’re inviting me to office happy hours a lot more often…

“No, c’mon, you can’t seriously think the Rangers are going to make the playoffs this season.

No, you’re delusional.

Tell him—babe, tell him he’s delusional.”

“I don’t know.

New coach, new stadium.

Anything could happen.”

“No.

No.

Not going to happen.”

“Hey.

Look who just got here.”

I follow your eyes to…

Mm, there he is.

Your boss, Luke, the tallest and—sorry, honey—the best-dressed guy in the room.

“Wanna go say hi?”

“I swear to god—you need to stop.

You’re crossing the line, buddy.”

“That’s what you like about it.”

As annoying as you’re being right now, you’re right.

There is something kind of… wrong about being attracted to my husband’s boss.

And yes, that off-limits aspect to it is… really, really hot.

Maybe it’s not wrong, but… clearly, there are some complex emotions involved for both of us.

A few ethical considerations, too.

I just can’t really imagine what it must feel like for you, the thought of your wife fantasizing about the man who pays your salary and tells you what to do all day.

I know you’re into it, but I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around why exactly.

“Okay, but seriously, he’s heading straight over here.

I think you’re going to have to talk to him.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Daniel, hey.

You’re looking fresh.

That late night on Monday didn’t mess up your week?”

“Ha, no, it was all good.

Honestly, it was kind of fun pulling an all-nighter.

Felt like I was at university again.”

“Good, good.”

“Luke, you remember my wife, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.

Hey, glad you’re here.”

“Hi, yeah.

Good to see you.”

“By the way, sorry for keeping him so late the other night—I take full responsibility for that.

I messed up something that, unfortunately for him, he was the only one who knew how to fix.”

“Oh, no problem, the later he stays at work the more episodes of The Bachelor I get to watch, so it works out.”

“Right.”

I don’t know what it is about this guy that just…

mmm.

There’s something a little rigid about him.

Not just in his physical appearance—he’s a classic blazer and patent leather shoes kind of man—but in the way he carries himself and interacts with people.

He’s polite

But it seems like there’s something underneath all that.

An intensity he’s holding back.

I don’t know, I might just be projecting all that onto him because I think he’s hot.

“Oh, I just noticed your drink is looking a little low.

Let me fix that for you.”

His eyes move down to my hands for just a second before flicking back up to my face.

I look up at him, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies in my stomach.

“Oh, sure, thanks.

”

“Daniel, you need another?”

“No, no, I’m still working on this.”

“I’ll be right back, stay here.”

“You look a little flustered.”

“What?

No.

No, I’m not.”

“I like seeing you like this.

I can tell you’re getting a little worked up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.

I’m just… imagining what it would be like.

You… watching me… watching you… while he—”

“Babe, stop.

I… I can’t think about this here.

I’m getting fucking wet.”

“Good.”

“Alright, here we go.”

“Oh, thank you.

You’re too sweet.”

His fingers brush over mine as he gives me the glass.

They’re cool and a little damp from the drink, but I still get a rush of heat in my hand when we touch.

“No problem at all.

Hey, Dan, I just remembered—you said you two are heading out to Puerto Rico next month, right?

For a surfing competition or something?”

“Yeah, they’ve got great beaches down there.

We love San Juan, we go almost every year.”

“Do you surf?”

“No, but my father was very into it growing up.

You know what, come to my office real quick, let me show you something.

You’re going to love this.”

I look over at you and try not to let it show on my face that I am, in fact, feeling a little flustered.

I also feel like I’m not hiding it very well.

You slip your hand into mine and pull me along as he leads the way down the hall.

All I know is I’m about to be alone in a room with my husband and his boss and I might not be able to control where my mind goes.

“Alright, let me see here…

where is it…?”

He walks behind his desk and digs around in one of the drawers.

It’s a nice office… way bigger than yours, of course.

Heavy white blinds along the windows match the framing of the huge wooden door.

But it doesn’t feel over-the-top or excessive.

It’s shiny, but reserved, kind of like him.

“Here we go.

Take a look at this.

My dad won this medal in the World Surfing Competition in 68, down at Rincón in Puerto Rico.”

“Wow, look at that.