Author: Richard Saw
Categories: Adult Friends, Athletics
I've been a long-time reader of Nifty, adoring fan of so many writers. This story: The Tale of an Aussie Rugby Bottom was a book that I published via Amazon. I no longer sell it, but I decided that people here might like to read it, and the sequel that I never published.
Characters in these stories do feature in my Holmes & Watson mystery novels (available on Amazon, search Richard Saw), so if you like a little mystery novel (with lots of sex and humour), please do look them up. But I promise that all of the good stuff will be in these stories.
And yes, do send me fan mail.
And more importantly, please remember to donations to Nifty (using link https://donate.nifty.org/). Your erections are in their hands!
This chapter clearly needs to come with two warnings:
-
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
-
Thank you to all those people who got slightly tipsy over lunch with me and told me stories which are included in one way or another in this book. I was serious when I told you "...that's going in my next novel," and you just nodded.
The Tale of An Aussie Rugby Bottom, who also liked to Top - Chapter 4
It was a little while after the encounter with Ian that a new head of our department at work was appointed. I didn't have much to do with many of the senior management, I was way down the bottom of the pyramid and most of my work was overseen by my team leader -- but the project we were working on had suddenly been elevated to greater importance and so a Vice President had been directed to adopt a more hands-on approach.
Jonathan Beauchamp arrived one day and after commandeering the biggest office he read out the riot act to every one of us grunts. He meant business and this project was going to get back on schedule. Each team was brought into his office, introduced to him, and forced to explain what they did.
Our team was last in and by that stage it seemed like even he was getting a little bored of the charade. Mr Beauchamp -- as everyone addressed him and he didn't seem interested in changing it to Jonathan -- was a beast of a man. He sat behind his desk and his shoulders seemed to expand beyond the capabilities of the chair. He wore a tight white shirt and a simple blue tie, and he would continue to wear this look every day though he always looked absolutely fresh and laundered. His face wasn't handsome -- he looked mean, and the politest thing would have been to call him rugged. His fists looked huge, and he reminded me of the sort of man who would be into WWE. He obviously trained at a gym, but it was all about size, certainly not definition.
"Right," he growled. "Names and what you do. You. Start," he pointed to my team manager who looked like she was about to wet herself on the spot.
When he got to me he fixed a set of blazing eyes on me and before I had the chance to speak he said, "We've met."
"Huh? Whaa?" I hadn't been expecting that and everyone else turned to look at me.
He cocked his head to one side and nodded. "Yes. In the lift. You're the rugby fellow. Right. What is it you do?"
Luckily I've always had a mouth that can work independently of my brain. So while I tried to succulently explain what I did -- even if I wasn't sure myself -- I examined him carefully. I recalled all the times I'd been in a lift. No I definitely would have recognised him. And I definitely would have remembered talking about rugby with or even near him.
Just as I was getting to thinking that maybe he was imagining someone else, I had a thought. And it wasn't a pleasant one.
Two nights ago I had been on-line -- on a gay hookup website -- one of my gradual steps into the gay world. And some guy with a blank profile had started chatting to me about rugby. I'd been polite and responded and he'd admired my photos and said I looked hot. And then he'd explained that he was married with kids, but he needed to get his fun elsewhere these days... And my eyes caught a picture on the desk. Of a wife and two young kids. Oh no... And then I remembered what I'd written back to that blank profile. He'd asked me what my favourite position was, and I'd said doggy style and ... oh no. Amazingly I only thought how embarrassing it was that I'd confessed this to him, not that he should have been worried that an underling knew what he got up to. But as I was to discover, he didn't concern himself with those sorts of thoughts.
Two days later I was working late. I thought I was the only one left when suddenly Mr Beauchamp's office door opened. It was right at the far end of the floor with no windows and a frosted glass door. I hadn't seen anyone go in there all day, so I had presumed he was out. But apparently not.
He walked out of the office and rolled his sleeves up, exposing two huge forearms. He too must have thought he was alone because I heard him softly swear and exhale. Then he looked up and saw me. I tried to look back at my work and seem engrossed in it, but I guess to a man like that, he didn't care what I thought. He seemed to make a firm decision and walked over to me.
"How's things going Todd?" He boomed.
"Good, can't complain," I tried to sound as manly as possible.
He came over and lent on my terminal. "You know who I am don't you?"
When I look back at this it amazes me that I didn't make more of an effort to stand my ground. I mean all I would have had to say was, `Yes, you're the head of the department' and he would have probably thought twice about making a move on me. But no, I lowered my eyes and said, "Yes."
"It's been a long and frustrating day," Mr Beauchamp declared. "And I think you've been working too long. Come into my office and share a drink with me."
He didn't ask me, he didn't offer it to me... he told me. And I went, following after him. I walked into his office, and he closed the door behind me, locking it firmly.
Before I could appreciate the implication, he grabbed me in his huge arms and kissed me, his huge tongue pushing into me. I got hard instantly. My only excuse for my willingness to play along is that I was a long way from catching up on all the man sex that I needed. Oh screw that, he was hot, and I was so needing this.
We tore our clothes off and I felt my heart jump out when I saw him take off his shirt, revealing a huge hairy chest beneath it. And then the pants came off and an 8-inch cock that was thick all the way down sprung out and hit his stomach. I stripped completely naked and fell to the floor, worshipping that cock.
Mr Beauchamp growled with satisfaction. "Good boy, good boy," he kept saying as he stroked my head. "Make your boss happy."
After a few minutes on that he hauled me to my feet and after another deep kiss, turned me around and pushed me over his boardroom table. He disappeared for a minute and as I looked around I could see him digging around in his bag. Eventually he came back with a condom and one of those single packs of lube.
"Fuck me," I moaned, "Fuck me Mr Beauchamp," I added for extra emphasis. Sex at work with the boss, damn who could wish for anything hotter?
That big fat cock that I had struggled to fit in my mouth then made a move for my arse. Geez this time there was nothing easy about it, but I was determined to be a good employee. I gritted my teeth and pushed back. I moaned and was immediately told off by the boss. I couldn't stop myself the second time, so he withdrew, stomped over to my abandoned clothes, and came back and shoved my underwear in my mouth.
This time he wasn't taking no for an answer. He forced that cock in. I felt like I was going to explode and when he withdrew for the first time I felt like he was taking my guts with him. Of course Max and Ian before hadn't been small but they'd been manageable and not like this. This was the real `cunt smasher' that my brother's mates all claimed to be. No wonder his wife had lost interest in sex or whatever his excuse was. This was a cock that made you feel every bit of it.
However after the first couple of thrusts Mr Beauchamp stopped, his sweaty palm resting on my back. He didn't want to rape me, he was letting me get used to his cock. "Shh, shh," I heard him whisper. "It's ok, it's just big."
I nodded my head to indicate that I agreed and knew what he was doing. Slowly he started up again and this time the pain had definitely eased. As he dove in again I felt something I'd not felt before. He had located my prostrate and that big cock was riding up and over it. Oh the shivers, all through my body. I could feel it in my nipples, in my fingers, in my stomach, in places I didn't know existed. Suddenly I started to appreciate what it was all about, this fucking thing. It made me wonder if I had ever given this level of satisfaction to the girls I'd fucked.
Now Mr Beauchamp had settled into a rhythm and those big hands came around me, pulling me back onto my feet. He wasn't much taller than me, but he was definitely bigger. His muscles seemed rawer -- as if he'd earned them on a farm or a building site rather than in a gym. He pinned my shoulders back with his arms and kept driving into me. It felt tremendous and now I was a little light-headed.
"I'm gunna cum," he whispered in my ear. I thought he'd want to come inside me, but he carefully slid out, encouraged me to lie back on the table, removed the condom and then jerked our dicks off together. With a firm grunt he came, and I felt no choice but to join him. He staggered away and collapsed on the sofa, grinning with amusement.
I got up, not entirely sure of what would happen next. He was straight. He was married. Was he horrified about what had just transpired? As it turned out, not at all.
"That was bloody awesome," he laughed. "You're so bloody hot. I can't believe I waited that long to do you."
"Aww man... I mean Mr Beauchamp..." I stumbled.
"Jonathan please!" he laughed. "And not just `cause I fucked you. Why is everyone calling me Mr Beauchamp? I'm not that much older then you are. If you start calling me Jonathan maybe the rest of them will get it through their thick heads."
I went to get my clothes and beat a hasty retreat, but he smiled and said, "Where are you going? Come and chill with me for a bit."
Like the good boy I am, I obeyed, suddenly feeling greatly relaxed as I lay on the sofa and rested my head on his huge chest as it moved up and down. His huge left arm came around and held me in place. "I think we need to work closer together from now on."
The next day I looked at my calendar to find that Jonathan had placed an additional meeting in my diary. He'd scheduled it for lunch time, exactly when I went to the gym, but I decided that getting boned by the boss was a cardio workout all by itself. I had a slightly cheerful grin on my face as I walked up to his office. I had to stop myself from winking at his PA... and it was a good thing I did.
I knocked on his door, heard the `come in' call and opened it up, loosening my tie as I did.
"Ahh Todd..." then he looked at me. "Where's your pad and pen? How are you going to take notes?"
"I... I..." suddenly I felt completely confused. "Sorry I..."
"Come and sit down," Jonathan ordered. "Now listen if we're going to play around you need to follow the rules." He looked at me as if I should instantly agree.
"I'm sorry," I said, possibly the only time I interrupted him, "I don't know what the rules are."
He rolled his eyes. "The meeting I've scheduled is a serious one, I want to see the forecast figures. You have them right? I may need them at any time so keep the information current. Is that clear?"
"Yes," I nodded.
"Right," and he indicated with his hand that I should go and get them right away. Just before I reached the door he stopped me. "But when the meeting name is changed to read current' rather than urgent' then you need to bring a satchel of lube and a condom. Ok?"
"Oh," I nodded, "Yes sir." And that was how it begun.
From there on, the meetings came thick and fast. Not only did Jonathan seem to want me working closely with him on almost every aspect of the project, he was also fucking me every chance he could get. It wasn't every day, but it was definitely every second day. And with a few more times thrown in for good measure. Suddenly the project was growing and there were meetings with other departments. He had me moved onto his special project team and I often found myself working late into the night. There we would be, surrounded by paper in his office, eating take-away food and laughing as we struggled to stay sane. I knew this sudden elevation to Jonathan's right-hand man wasn't making me popular with everyone and I wasn't getting more money, but I knew that it would open doors for me. Suddenly all the directors knew my name and people came to ask me to get things done or to get Jonathan's buy in.
And Jonathan continued to fuck me. And every time it was fantastic. I would have done anything that cock asked me to do. And once it was over I would find myself in Jonathan's arms as he stroked my hair. He'd insist that I get a cab home at night and occasionally he'd drag me out of the office to dinner. If being romanced over work was a thing, Jonathan had it down to a tee. I was in love with my boss, and I would have done anything for him.
Then one Friday afternoon things started to go wrong with our systems. Luckily it had nothing to do with me but when one of the project leads finally explained it to Jonathan he exploded. A chair was thrown, and his voice roared across the office so loudly that everyone seemed to scamper for safety. The leads were sent running from the office, but Jonathan didn't emerge. There were however more thunderous roars and the sound of things being broken.
My desk had been moved so that I was next to his PA -- a great girl called Maria who, if she knew what was really going on between us, didn't blink an eyelid. We both looked at each other, trying to work out what to do.
"You go in there," she hissed. "He likes you."
I got the feeling the entire office was suddenly willing me to go in and sort things out. I took a gamble and cautiously walked over to the door. I tapped on it and slipped in before he had a chance to say anything and then quickly shut the door behind me.
The office was a complete shambles, I could see his phone was broken, papers were strewn everywhere, a vase had been smashed and in the middle, on the sofa, sat Jonathan, his hand in his huge hands.
He looked up, saw me and growled, "I don't want to fuckin' see you."
"Mmm," I nodded but didn't retreat. I walked over to his desk and started to put the papers together.
"Don't touch anything," Jonathan growled again but I ignored him, picking up further papers that were scattered around on the floor and putting them back on his desk.
Jonathan sat on the sofa and continued to fume as I started to clean up the rest of the office. I righted a chair as if its previous position on the floor was nothing unusual, picked up the bigger pieces of the broken vase and once things were back to a semblance of order -- except for the broken phone of course -- I drew up a chair close to him and asked calmly, "So what's the plan?"
He let out a deflated sigh and said, "I honestly don't know baby."
It was the first time he'd used a term of endearment while we'd been working and looking back, especially at the picture of his wife and kids, I should have seen where this was heading. But I had been seduced by him and the job and I was young and impressionable I guess.
"Well I could skip rugby this weekend," I said. "I can come in and we can start planning things..."
Jonathan reached over and patted the sofa next to him and I moved over. He drew me closer, kissed me hard and while still holding my head by his said, "What have I done to deserve you?"
Again the witty answer -- and that which I would often say when I retold this story year's later -- was `Cheat on your wife,' but as always I didn't say that.
"I can't ask you to do that," he said though he wasn't to know that my shoulder wasn't recovering as fast as my coach had wanted. When I'd winched one too many times at practice, he'd suggested in front of the squad that I was not spending enough time training in the gym on my recovery. Which was true, because I was always in the office. But the remark hurt. I'd always worked hard training so that no one could ever doubt my ability. But the new Number 8 and I weren't gelling, and I was beginning to think my love affair with rugby was well and truly over. Mainly because there had never been any love there to begin with. I was waking up to the realisation that I didn't want to play anymore. I had only ever done it to make my dad happy and to let me hang around with my brother's mates. Now when I played with my new team I realised that I disliked the sport, and I didn't have much of a friendship with the other guys. When I walked off the field, aching from that shoulder injury I was almost sure I would never walk back on it again.
"It's fine," I said. "I want to do this for you."
"It's going to take all weekend," he said glumly. "Look, I have an apartment in town. I'm going to stay there and not go back home. If we're gunna do this I think you should stay over too so we don't waste any time."
"Fair enough," I agreed. That seemed to make Jonathan very happy, and he got up from his sofa.
"Ok so do we have a plan?" I asked.
Jonathan nodded. "Get all the team leaders in right now. We're going to re-structure this project."
I nodded at him. This had given me a burst of confidence that I'd never had before. I got the team leads in and stayed with them through the afternoon and into the evening. Eventually a plan was put into place and Jonathan told everyone to go home but with orders to be on call tomorrow.
"Com'n handsome," he smiled at me, and I walked down to the parking garage with him. His Porsche 4x4 was down there and being driven out into the night in this warm, safe car made me instinctively happy. Having me there seemed to make Jonathan happy as well and I listened in carefully as he called to speak to his wife who sounded perfectly nice. I don't remember feeling guilty at all about being the `other woman'. I probably thought that this was something for Jonathan to deal with and not me. I'm not sure that's the right attitude but I didn't want to think about it at the time.
The flat was amazing, located in the West End with a view looking toward the Thames. The moment we walked in, Jonathan grabbed me from behind and slid his thick hands under my shirt. I shuddered, partly with exhaustion and the rest with pleasure.
"I'm gunna fuck you so hard baby," he whispered. I felt tired but Jonathan on the other hand seemed to be exhilarated by the whole situation. And his energy proved to be infectious that night. All our encounters at work had been quite regimented. That wasn't to say they were boring, hell there's nothing boring about having your boss shove his huge, thick cock in your arse whenever he felt like it. But I had become skilled at not making a sound and getting naked within seconds. So it was great to take my time and make as much noise as I wanted to.
Jonathan wasn't at all like Ian either as he knew exactly what to do in bed (or on the boardroom table). Again in retrospect I wonder how he managed to pull it off. He seemed a loving husband and father, a powerful business leader without a sniff of scandal around him and at the same time he was a phenomenal and caring gay lover. It didn't take too long to realise that I wasn't the first boy he'd brought back to the flat. If it wasn't the condom and lube in the nightstand, it was the collection of sex toys he brought out for us to play with.
I'd never played with sex toys before, back in `straightville' they were viewed with bemusement and ridicule if not total disgust. But if Jonathan contributed anything to my sexual learnings, it was how much fun they could be. One toy that I took a particular fancy to right away was a butt plug that had a cock ring attached to it, effectively controlling me from both ends. As I obediently squeezed my arse cheeks together to ensure the butt plug stayed in, I sat back on my haunches and grinned.
"Arf, arf," I barked and let my tongue loll out.
"Is that what you want to be?" Jonathan laughed. "Well I always wanted a puppy. Hmmm... I wonder if I've got a bone around somewhere for you to gnaw on?"
I gave him a cheeky grin and padded across the bed to where that massive torso was laying against the bed rest. I chowed down on that cock, losing myself in the worship of that fantastic piece of meat. Jonathan let me up only to introduce me to poppers. At first I wasn't sure but that heady rush ignited pleasure in my nipples first and then throughout the rest of me and I appreciated instantly what they were for.
Stretched by the butt plug and liberated from concerns by the poppers I was happy to be speared by his cock. One squeak out of me earned me a spanking and a warning that Johnathan didn't want a sissy boy. I was his rugby pup and I had to behave as such. Groaning, panting, grunting were all ok until I was breached and from then on pleasure was the only thing I was allowed to feel or suggest I felt.
That was fine with me, I found it very easy to be fulfilled by him and his cock. Jonathan was a great kisser, a considerate lover and when we spent the rest of the night in bed together, the perfect companion. Even to this date he's the only man I've ever fell asleep with while being spooned.
The following morning Jonathan awoke with a burst of energy that even I was amazed at. He insisted that we go for a jog before breakfast and then as we ate at a cafe, Jonathan seemed delighted in having me by his side which, given he was married, seemed a little strange. We returned to the office and worked throughout the weekend, stopping only to eat and fuck. Each night Jonathan insisted on developing the play -- bringing in a new toy or a new idea. He fucked me standing up, over the table, on the sofa and my favourite one -- out on the balcony. Boy, it's amazing what you will do when someone else is taking charge.
He started to insist I take every load he had by swallowing it, claiming he loved the look of it streaming down my throat. He also loved to watch me wank off. Jonathan would place a big dildo on the glass coffee table and watch me pleasure myself until I came, crying in exhaustion at the end as it was never as easy as it looked.
By Sunday night we had entirely re-written the project plan, deadlines, and our relationship. While Monday was busy, it felt strange to find ourselves separated. Because the senior executives were in, I didn't see Jonathan at all. Returning to my own flat, it felt empty and strange to be alone and I went to bed that night aching for his cock.
The week continued that way, with me seeing Jonathan only briefly each day. We had a `meeting' scheduled but it had to get cancelled. On Friday though he surprised me by coming over to my desk.
"I don't like this," he said.
"What?" I asked, looking at my desk and wondering what part of the project he was unhappy with.
"Me not having you when I want you," he growled.
"Well I'm here," I smiled.
"Doing it in the office is all well and good," he sighed, leaning on the barrier by my desk. "But I loved last weekend. I loved having you there for me to play with whenever I want."
"Well you can always come over to my place," I said. I had presumed that he didn't want to use his flat too often in case his wife found out. "I live alone."
Jonathan shook his head emphatically. "You should move into the flat."
"That's very nice..." I stumbled. "But I couldn't..."
He lent even closer to me. "At least for the next couple of weeks while this project is on," he suggested. "I've decided I need to stay close to the office until everything gets sorted out. And it would be nice to have someone to come home to. Just for a couple of weeks and then we can decide where it goes. How about that?"
I glanced over in Maria's direction but thankfully she seemed to have absented herself. "Ok, for the duration of the project then," I weakly answered.
"Good lad," he said and handed over a set of keys to me. "I'm gunna be home late tonight but I'll text you before I leave the office."
"You don't want me to stay with you?" I asked, suddenly feeling unimportant and desperate for the attention that being his off-sider had given me.
"No, you've worked very hard for me. Enjoy some time off."
I felt -- demoted! I should have felt happy and yet... I couldn't quite put my finger on what had changed. I went back to my place and gathered up some clothes in a gym bag and went over. It was such a nice flat however that I felt instantly relaxed. I cooked dinner, chilled out, watched TV and it was approaching 11pm when I got the text message.
`Will be home in 10 mins. Be naked on your knees with your hands behind your back at the front door'
I jumped into action. I showered, cleaned myself `down there', did push-ups and squats to make myself look as pumped up as I could and then sat on my haunches, hands behind my back and waited. Luckily it wasn't too long before I heard footsteps in the corridor, and I grabbed my left wrist with my right hand and clenched.
The door opened and with my head down, I could only see Jonathan's shoes. But I could hear his voice. "Well, well. Who's a good pup then?"
I didn't move, fancying that he wanted to play this along further. I heard him unzip his pants and I had butterflies in my stomach and that familiar tightening in the base of your cock as you feel the blood force its way down there without getting completely erect.
His hand came down and lifted my chin up and I found myself staring straight at his cock. I didn't ask, I just reached up and wolfed it down. "Oh yeah..." Jonathan sighed. "That's the stuff."
I sat there for a few minutes in the same position, bobbing back and forward, just enjoying servicing my man. Jonathan had dropped his bag and was shedding his jacket and tie but apart from that, simply stood there with his eyes closed, murmuring to himself.
Eventually I started to cramp, Jonathan noticed this and luckily he wasn't too into the whole puppy/master thing, so I was able to release his cock from my mouth, get up and reach up for a kiss.
"Mmm," he said when we finally broke away. "Sorry I'm so late. Work was hell," he whispered. It occurred to me to say that I had been at work too but like many `good boys' I felt uncomfortable confronting someone older. "I'm so glad to come home to you," he added.
"Me too," I agreed. I walked in front of him into the kitchen/living room. "Can we do it on the kitchen bench?" I grinned. Jonathan was big and strong enough to lift me up and the first time he had sat my bare arse on the stainless-steel kitchen top it made me feel like I was a young kid again, and so when he proceeded to fuck me, I had cum like a fountain. We hadn't done it since and sex was always very much on his terms, but I thought that a little suggestion wouldn't hurt.
"I bought you something," Jonathan said, ignoring my request. I turned around and looked at what he was holding. I told you I was new to all this sex toy stuff didn't I? And so I didn't even know how to describe what he was holding.
"What is it?" I asked gormlessly.
"A puppy butt plug," he smirked. "It goes `in there'," he pointed. "Gives me something nice to play with till it's your bedtime. Bend over."
I obediently bent over the kitchen table and spread my legs before giving a satisfied little moan as he slid it in. "Nice," he commented. "Can you get me a glass of wine babe?"
He then shrugged off his shoes and tie and went and sat on the couch before switching on the TV. I was a little disappointed but went and got him a glass of wine like he'd requested. He patted the couch next to him and I curled up, naked and holding the butt plug in. Every movement seemed to send little twinges through me, and I found it difficult to stop squirming. A couple of hard spanks that certainly weren't playful from Jonathan made me learn to stop, however.
Eventually Jonathan decided it was time for bed and so he walked his tired puppy there. And then he took me. The butt plug had done its trick, I was finally able to take him straight away and the grin on his face I could see in the mirror above the bed showed that he liked it. I was too tired and confused to maintain any façade of macho-ness. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I moaned again and again as Jonathan's firm handheld me in place, and he did me doggy style. He came inside me before feeding me the contents of the condom. I went to jerk off, but he stopped me, declaring he was tired, and we needed to sleep.
It was a cunning plan of course. Even though I was tired, I could only drift off to sleep occasionally before my need to cum came back. When the morning broke and I found his big cock hitting my backdoor, I felt I needed him more than ever. I tried to impale myself on it but that was a no-go. Eventually I was forced to crawl down and suck him off. Jonathan pretended to be asleep, but I could tell he was enjoying it too much. Eventually after it felt like my jaw was going to break from all the work, I finally saw a wink and a cheeky smile from him.
"Why are you stopping?" he croaked.
I took that as a happy signal and so I quickly condom-ed and lubed him up before jumping on and riding him. For once he didn't seem to dislike the fact that I was taking control but then I came, and it seemed to focus him. He grunted and dropped another load in me. I eased myself off and then realised that Jonathan wasn't moving anywhere in a hurry. So it seemed only polite for me to roll the condom off, swallow his cum, clean my arse and him off before coming back to bed to cuddle. Surprisingly this only lasted for half an hour before he announced that he had to go back to the office.
"Oh ok," I said, surprised that he hadn't mentioned that we would be spending another weekend in the office. "Do you want me to wear a business shirt? If so, I will need to iron one."
"No don't worry," he said, "You don't need to come in with me. Stay home, use the flat. All I ask is that you be home when I get home tonight."
"Oh..." I said, dumbfounded by this. There I sat, naked in the bed as my lover got dressed and went to work. And when the door closed, instead of falling back under the covers, I sat there, looking across at the mirrored cabinets, aware that my chest and biceps hadn't seen the gym for a long time. I wasn't Jonathan's shag anymore, I wasn't even his lover. I was his wife. His second wife.