My wife, Marie, looked good - really good. Almost edible, if I was into eating rat poison. She approached the board room in the crowd of ass wipes who purported to run the company, Acme Ltd, although most of the running was so far beneath them that they would reach terminal velocity if they ever deigned to move down to that level of reality. Marie was dressed in an elegantly tailored bespoke suit, the skirt a little shorter and the top a little tighter than most business executives would probably go for, but that was Marie for you. She had shapely legs and lovely round tits, and used them to her advantage in any and every business meeting. But not for me, her sad, fucked-up husband. Not any more. The group of corpulent men and slim, hard-bodied assistants entered the boardroom and stared at me seated at the far end of the long, highly polished oak table, where the chairman - Mr Max Collins the almighty would normally sit. On one side of me were Dallas and Holmes, on the other was W
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