How to Steal a Man

Character List:

Carl Albertsson
Real estate agent, wealthy and married to Charlotte. Stepfather to Tindra, who is Charlotte's daughter with an unnamed man of African origin.

Jessica Wallin
Carl's assistant at work. Young, attractive, unhappily (and unknowingly) in love with her boss. Terrible driver.

Tindra Reynaud
Charlotte's daughter and Carl's stepdaughter. 18 years old, starting her final year of (Swedish) high school and seen by her classmates as unfairly gorgeous. Of mixed heritage since her mother is white, but her father is presumed black, though neither she nor Carl has met him. She has a defiant temperament, which among other things shows through her homemade French surname.

Charlotte Albertsson
Carl's wife. Also beautiful, which she uses to ensnare men in various infidelity affairs. Her adventures are known to everyone except Carl (presumably).

Linn
Jessica's best friend and self-proclaimed slut. Goes by the name SxyLinn in Jessica's phone for... reasons.

Carl Albertsson, often described as "the town's best real estate agent," was drinking coffee. He wasn't a breakfast person. On a good day, he could force down a toasted sandwich before lunch, but usually he settled for his coffee.

He was dressed like "the town's best real estate agent" should be—tailor-made suit with a neatly knotted tie, pocket square in the breast pocket, and hair carefully combed. He sat at his kitchen island, elbows resting against the polished wooden surface as he sipped his coffee.

"Fucking whore, you think I care what you think?"

"You don't talk to me like that!"

"I talk however I want, fucking ass."

"If you want to leave the house anytime soon, then shut up and change clothes now!"

"So you're just gonna lock me up if I refuse, or what?"

"Test me!"

Carl sipped his coffee. He liked it black. Strong, no fuss. Milk turned good coffee into slop.

"You're such a fucking cunt!"

"Change or stay home for the rest of your life, your choice."

The girl screamed in frustration and a door slammed shut. Carl took another sip while looking toward his fridge. He had wanted an ice maker. He should have gotten the fridge with the ice maker.

"You weren't gonna help out, I assume?" Charlotte asked dryly when she appeared in the kitchen after the dust-up with her daughter.

"You seemed to handle it perfectly, darling." He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away.

"I need your car today," she said while packing her things into her purse.

"What happened to yours?"

"Lent it to Amanda."

"And how am I getting to work?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Figure it out."

Carl took another sip of his coffee while eyeing his wife. She was a beautiful woman. It was hard to imagine she had an 18-year-old daughter, but there it was. Charlotte had taken good care of her body and knew how to highlight the good parts—the well-shaped breasts, full lips, soft hair, and beautiful face. Few people would say no to a night with Charlotte, and they were all either married, women, or gay.

Tindra, Carl's stepdaughter, appeared in the kitchen from her room. Carl didn't know what she had been wearing earlier for this to be an improvement, but Charlotte approved it with a snort.

"Can I go now?" the 18-year-old girl asked, swinging her arms demonstratively. She was dressed in a purple skirt that ended at her thighs, a thin top that clearly showed her bra underneath, and heeled sandals. Her skin was dark, but on the lighter side since only her father had been of African origin, while Charlotte was white as a Viking. Her hair was dark and thick but well-brushed, and her face was subtly painted over her cheeks, eyes, and eyelashes. She was— if Carl allowed himself to admit it—absolutely stunning. Like her mother, but chocolate instead of vanilla.

"Have a nice day," said Carl. The coffee was running low. Time to get to work. "I can probably get a ride from Jessica, darling."

Charlotte shrugged while smacking her lips against her portable makeup mirror. "Do that."

Jessica swore loudly when yet another crazy pedestrian decided to cross the street right where she was driving her Polo. She glanced in the rearview mirror. The person was still alive.

What kind of maniac thinks a few white lines on asphalt mean you can stand in front of a moving car?

Her phone pinged. She looked down where it lay on the seat next to her.

Carl: Hey! Can you pick me up? Wifey needs to borrow my car today 🙂

A car honked loudly and she swore again. Yeah, she had driven into a roundabout while reading a text from her boss. And yeah, she had blocked the person's lane. But honking was just rude.

Jessica was only two minutes from work but made a 180 through the roundabout without hesitation. Another car honked when she forgot to signal.

"I'm coming!" she wrote with one hand. She drove another ten minutes, this time without any near-murders, before reaching Carl's villa in the city's upscale neighborhood. She laid her hand on the horn and held it for a few seconds before letting go. Then she fiddled with her fingernails and waited.

Just as she was about to honk again, the door opened and Carl stepped out, dressed impeccably as usual. Behind him came... the woman. His wife. The crone, as Jessica had dubbed her in her silent mind. And in the watercolors she sometimes made with her niece.

"And don't forget to shop on the way home. Food. Milk. We're out of wine too."

"Maybe it's better, darling, if the one with the car does the shopping?"

"I don't have time, going out with Amanda and the girls tonight. Gotta get home and get ready quick."

Carl looked like he was grinding his teeth for a moment but nodded in the end. "As you wish, darling."

Charlotte—the crone—pretended not to see him when he leaned in for a kiss and walked over to their parked car. Carl looked a bit embarrassed as he walked toward Jessica, who whistled while distractedly looking the other way.

"Hey Jessica. Pumped for another day in the wonderful world of real estate?"

Jessica smiled stiffly, trying not to show how her heart beat harder when he sat down next to her. "Always pumped for another day as your assistant!"

Jessica: The disgusting crone forced him to ride with me cuz she lent out her car
SxyLinn: Jessica, I can't even...
Jessica: What?
SxyLinn: It's all you talk about... Carl and the crone, she's bad, he's good. She's mean, he's nice. She's ugly, he's hot...
Jessica: I've never called him hot!

Jessica stared at her phone for a few seconds and when no reply came, she wrote again.

Jessica: What are you trying to say?
SxyLinn: You're in love with your boss.

Jessica furrowed her brow.

Jessica: What?
SxyLinn: You heard me.

"Boyyya!"

Jessica jumped at the sudden triumphant yell from the next room. It was probably a minute before Carl innocently opened the door from his office. He sauntered toward her desk with feigned nonchalance, gaze directed at the walls as if her paintings were incredibly fascinating.

"Hey Carl?"

"Hey hey, Jessica." He whistled as he picked up the unsolved Rubik's cube from her desk. Carl sat on her desk and started twisting while fiddling with the colorful cube.

"So… what's up, Carl?"

"Oh, nothing. Just checking in. All good?"

"All good here. You?"

"Splendid." He put the Rubik's cube back and stood up. He turned his back to her and started walking before stopping and slapping his forehead. "Oh right! Almost forgot. You know the villa up on Mollberg Street? The one we've worked night and day to sell? The one we've invested all our time and energy into selling?"

"Yeah, Carl, I know which one..."

He smugly clicked his mouth. "I just sold it."

Jessica couldn't stop herself from jumping up from her chair and throwing herself into his arms. She pressed her cheek against his chest as she felt him embrace her. They had almost given up hope on that villa. Many late nights, just the two of them, while they hunted potential customers, calculated prices, and...

She realized she had held the hug too long, that his posture had gone a bit stiff. She pulled back without meeting his eyes. "Congrats! You've worked hard for it."

"We've worked hard for it. You deserve as much credit as I do. Celebrate tonight?" He winked with one eye. "Mom's not home."

Jessica was just about to say yes when she remembered her plans for the evening. "I can't unfortunately. I promised to go out with my girls."

Carl hid his disappointment behind his practiced sales smile. "No problem. More champagne for me."

Jessica stared at his back as he went back to the office. She picked up her phone.

Jessica: Fuck.
SxyLinn: Yes.

Jessica's car stopped outside Carl's villa. His groceries and wine were in the back seat, he himself was just unbuckling his seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride."

"Of course, no problem."

He looked at her. "You sure you don't wanna come in for a glass of champagne? I have some cheese that's supposed to be fancy, but it smells awful. You can taste it, so I know if it's poisonous."

"Thanks for the offer. But I have to get home quickly if I'm gonna make it to my friends." Jessica didn't think she'd manage to say no if he asked once more, and was disappointed when he just nodded with a slightly stiff smile.

"No problem. See you Monday?"

"See you Monday." Jessica smiled as he got out, picked up his groceries, and walked alone into the big villa. With a final sigh, she put it in gear and drove off.

Jessica saw herself in the mirror in front of the graffiti-sprayed toilet. Dressed in her tight outfit, with dark red lips, shadowed eyes, and straightened hair, she had to admit it—she was hot. Full breasts that fit perfectly in hands, well-trained legs and thighs, an even tan from a summer at the beach, and a cute-beautiful face that always drew compliments from drunk strangers at the bar. Between her legs, she was smoothly shaved with just a little tuft on top, and her ass cheeks were strong enough to bend a coin. Not really, but almost.

She was, as the saying went, ready to party. Too bad she felt so... out of place. The gloom must have shown on her face, because her friends sighed as soon as she got back.

"Stop it now, Jessi. You're young, hot, and single. Just enjoy the evening."

"Sorry. You're right. I'll stop thinking about... I'll have fun from now on!"

She raised her beer bottle demonstratively and they clinked when the others did the same. She took a deep gulp...

And spat it out over the table.

"What the hell!" said Linn, but Jessica barely heard her. On the other side of the bar, through the crowd, she saw the crone. With her mouth locked to another man's lips. Her breasts pressed against him, hands moving through his hair. It was like watching a dog eat spaghetti.

Jessica stared at them there in the crowd, making out wildly, in plain view of dozens of people, without shame or care. Carl wasn't a public figure, but many knew who he was. And who he was married to. And, as everyone except Carl knew, this was no unusual sight. It was just the first time Jessica had witnessed it.

"Jessi?"

"Linn, you're a slut, aren't you?" she whispered to her bestie.

"Excuse me?"

"Your own words. But they’re true, right? You're a slut?"

"Where are you going with this questioning?" asked Linn, offended.

"Have you ever stolen a man from another slut?" asked Jessica without taking her eyes off the cheating crone on the other side of the room.

"Uh... Maybe... Why...?"

Jessica finally tore her gaze from the makeout and met Linn's. "I want to steal a man. Teach me how."

Carl sat at home in his dark living room. Neil Young was playing from a vinyl record in the background. In his hand was a glass of whisky. In front of him stood an empty champagne bottle and an empty red wine bottle. Just one wine glass.

He looked down at his phone and stared at the picture a drunk customer had sent him a few weeks earlier. The picture of his wife in the arms of another man. He remembered the chat conversation he had accidentally seen when he borrowed her computer to check email. How Charlotte had filled the chat with pictures of herself, both clothed and naked, while asking the recipient for his opinion. How she in the same chat had called Carl a wimp who wouldn't dare do anything even if they got caught.

It pinged.

Jessica: Hi
Carl: Hey
Jessica: I'm thinking about you...

Carl furrowed his brow.

Carl: What do you mean?
Jessica: I'm thinking about you... are you thinking about me?

He stared down at the phone. What did she mean?

Carl: Now I am...
Jessica: Good. Keep doing that.
Carl: Now you're confusing me
Jessica: Giggle. Good.

Maybe it was the alcohol doing its thing, but Carl felt himself biting.

Carl: How do you want me to think about you?
Jessica: Am I your good and obedient assistant?
Carl: You're very skilled... mostly...
Jessica: :O Mostly?
Carl: Well... you have a tendency to be sloppy
Jessica: Then you have to punish me. So I learn.

Carl wasn't as blind as people thought. He could read signals. The villa, the expensive cars, the whisky he drank—all bought through his ability to read people. So he didn't miss that something had changed with Jessica. She was probably just drunk. But so was Carl.

Carl: Do you think you deserve to be punished now?
Jessica: Have I been naughty?
Carl: You text your boss when you're drunk. That qualifies as being naughty.
Jessica: 🙁 Okay boss. What time? Where?

Carl took a deep breath. He was about to do something he had only fantasized about before. He thought of Charlotte and her poor attempts to hide her infidelity.

Carl: Tomorrow. At the office. 6 PM.
Jessica: Yes Carl. Tomorrow. At the office. 6 PM. Then you'll punish me.

Linn handed the phone back to the pinned-down Jessica. She snatched it as the two other girls released her arms. They had completely ignored her screams of horror while Linn loudly read the texts she sent.

Jessica felt her face go white as she read Linn's conversation with Carl.

"Punish me? Tomorrow at 6? What have you done, Linn?" At the end, her voice was barely more than a desperate whimper.

"You want him, right? You want to steal him from his wife?"

Jessica swallowed. "Yes."

"Then give him what he's missing now."

"What is that?"

"Power. Control. Be his little toy."

"What the fuck?"

"You put yourself completely in his hands, let him do whatever he wants with you. Be naughty and let him punish you, and make sure to always be there when he desires something to to play with."

"But… just… why?"

"Because it's hot," Linn grinned.

"Wow. You really are a slut," said Jessica.

"Guilty. But listen. You want to be with him, right?"

Jessica bit her lip. She had never said it before, or even admitted it to herself, but... "Yes."

"Then you can do one of two things. You can knock on his door and confess your love, like in a movie. It might work. From how you talk about you two, it feels like he’s got some feelings for you too. But you don't just want him, right? You want to steal him. From that bitch there." She thumbed back toward Charlotte, who still hadn't let go of the man at the bar. "And if you want to 'steal' him, really make him yours, and you his, then do what I say. Be his toy."

"God, Linn. I didn't know you'd read Makavello."

"It's 'Machiavelli'. But be honest now. Doesn't it tingle between your legs? I mean, certain parts of you seem more than up for the idea."

Jessica followed Linn's pointed gaze and saw how the fabric tented where her nipples had gone hard. She blushed but couldn't protest. Linn was right—between her legs, a small dark spot was forming as her pussy got wet.

Ping

Charlotte: Not coming home tonight. Sleeping at Amanda's.

Carl looked up from his phone when the door flew open. Tindra staggered in, dressed in the short skirt and thin top from earlier. She was obviously drunk, the way she wobbled while taking off her sandals.

"Hey," said Carl.

"Hey," replied Tindra and started toward her room.

"Come here," Carl called. Tindra's bare feet stopped at Carl's low but hard voice.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Money was missing from my wallet earlier. You don't happen to know anything about that?"

"No," she answered and turned around again.

"Stop!" It was the anger toward his wife that permeated the voice, but it was directed at Tindra. She stopped and turned around again. "Come here."

Carl sat calmly in the armchair while Tindra hesitantly stepped toward him.

"Are you lying to me now, Tindra?"

"No, I promise." But she couldn't meet his eyes. Her gaze was directed at her purple toenails.

"One last time. Did you steal money from me earlier today?"

Tindra bit her lip and glanced at him from under her lashes. Her young, dark face was uncertain. "Yes. Sorry."

Carl calmly set aside his glass. He thought of Charlotte, who was probably getting fucked right now. And of Jessica, who was making him all confused. The challenging texts he still wasn't sure he'd interpreted right.

"Come here." He beckoned her closer. She took a couple steps toward him. And yelped when he grabbed her arm and in one motion pulled her face-down over his knees. He locked both arms over her back and held them there with his left hand.

He didn't think before pulling up the short skirt over her hip and letting his free hand strike the soft, thong-clad ass with a loud SMACK.

Tindra peeped, more from surprise than pain, but the next smack hit harder. She writhed over his knees.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're spoiled and ill-mannered." Carl smacked his palm against each ass cheek twice. The soft skin jiggled from his strikes. "You need to learn that there are consequences."

SMACK
SMACK
SMACK

Tindra struggled to get free, but her small, slender body was nothing against his. Carl thought of his wife, and the secret everyone knew about. People thought he was blind. Let them think that. It wasn't for Charlotte's sake he stayed in the marriage.

SMACK
"Ah!" Tindra whimpered and writhed over his knees. Her bare feet kicked.
SMACK
"Ah!" the resistance lessened.
SMACK
She gave up trying to get loose and instead started moaning louder as the redness grew over her ass.
SMACK
"When you do wrong, you must be punished. If you're disobedient, you learn to be better!" Carl continued while slapping her bare ass with his hand.
"I... Ah! I'll be obedient!" she promised.
SMACK

Carl rested his hand against the chocolate-dark, thong-clad rump. With a quick tug, he pulled down the thong so it hung between her thighs and slowly slid down to her knees.
SMACK
SMACK
SMACK
Carl felt how his cock pressed against the girl's stomach and realized she must feel his erection. But she had stopped protesting and writhed more sensually when his hand struck the smooth skin.
It had never been for Charlotte's sake, not after the first year when she started showing her true colors. The marriage, the job, the long hours... it wasn't for Charlotte. It was for the girl over his knees.

SMACK "Ah!" SMACK "Please," whispered Tindra, but it wasn't clear what she was begging for.
She moaned and groaned as he continued spanking her, alternating between the two cheeks and letting the full sound echo in the room.
SMACK
SMACK
It was for her sake he pretended to be unaware of his wife's infidelity. So he could give her a better life. Charlotte lacked education and work experience. Without Carl, both she and Tindra would end up in some shitty one-bedroom apartment. They'd struggle for rent and food.
SMACK
"Ah, punish me, Carl," mumbled Tindra, and it sounded like she was giving in to something. "I deserve it."
SMACK
Carl could pretend to be blind, endure the shame and stay married to his wife, if it meant a good and secure future for her daughter.
SMACK
SMACK
SMACK
SMACK "Oh, oh..." SMACK She bucked her hips against his thigh with each strike, as if seeking rougher contact with his leg. SMACK
SMACK
SMACK

Carl calmed down after a couple minutes. He felt her breathing heavily on his knee, but when he eased his grip, she stayed there, panties down at her knees and her naked pussy against his leg. Did he feel a wet spot on his thigh?

"Will you be an obedient daughter from now on?" he asked his stepdaughter.

"I'll try, Carl."

"I'll continue punishing you if you're disobedient."

"Okay, Carl. I understand."

"Good." He stroked the bare ass for a few seconds. His fingers slid down and briefly felt how wet and smooth her pussy was. She gasped.

"P-please… Carl..." But it didn't sound like she meant for him to remove his hand. A part of him usually kept in tight chains took control and he let his fingers glide deeper between her legs, over the smooth and wet skin between her labia.
Her pussy was parted, warm and wet. Waiting for his fingers.

"Please, Carl," whispered Tindra. "Don't stop..."

He stroked tentatively with his finger in the open slit, felt her juices and heat. He lightly brushed her clit, hard and sensitive as it was.

"Yes daddy, keep going, please..."

The finger slid down again, toward the waiting opening. He pressed lightly against it, felt her pussy envelop the tip of his index finger. She was tight and he realized she had probably never had anything penetrating her pussy before. Was she a virgin?

He couldn't hold back. He slowly pushed his finger into her, felt her pussy widen and make room for his fingertip and knuckle. How the wetness and warmth surrounded him.

"Ahhh..." Tindra gasped. "Oh, yes..."

He fought the temptation to finger her fast and hard. To shove in more fingers and finally his cock, which was harder than it had ever been pressing against her stomach. But she had been punished. That would have to be enough for now.

Carl pulled his finger out of her pussy but couldn't resist licking off the juices. She tasted wonderful. Tindra moaned desperately.

"You can go to bed now." He smacked her ass as if to shoo her away.

"Please, Carl, keep going..."

"Now."

"Y-yes, Carl." Tindra got up from his thigh and stood on shaky legs. The panties fell to the floor at her bare feet, but she stepped out of them instead of pulling them up. She smiled a little shyly at him before walking away. She stopped at the door. "By the way. Mom's a pig. You deserve better."

"Thanks, Tindra. Go to bed now."

"Yes, Carl. Thanks for... teaching me to be better." Tindra did something like a curtsy and went up the stairs to her room. The panties lay on the floor in front of Carl.

A Neil Young song later, Carl stood up, a pair of purple thong panties in hand, to sleep himself. He passed Tindra's room on the way and heard something through the door. He stopped and listened.

A bed creaked as it shook and moved up and down. "Yes, Carl." A whispering voice. "Just like that. Fuck me, daddy. I'll be obedient! I’ll be a good girl for daddy!." The bed creaked louder as the intensity in her whispers increased. "Like that! Like that! Like that! Like that! Ahhh, Carl!"

Carl felt the wet spot against his leg. He swallowed, thought of his meeting with Jessica the next day. What had he just started? [email protected]