Additional Duties

Kathy paused in her account to note, "With each new depravity there was a sense of self-disgust growing in the back of my mind." She hesitated, then continued in her aside. "No. That's not exactly true. There should have been a growing sense of self-disgust, but instead, I was reveling in the thrills generated by each lewd and novel experience." The one negative was the guilt she felt, over the continued deception – the ongoing betrayal. "Although," she rationalized, "it wasn't really betrayal, as nothing was taken away from our relationship. My love for you never faltered!" And I guess I had to agree, inasmuch as I really had had no clue – not an inkling of what had been going on right under my nose, for so long!

During all that time, Kathy had continued the lesbian trysts with her boss. While not as frequent, still once or twice a week; as well as random fucking with her boss's husband. Everything was sailing smoothly, until, suddenly, inevitably, albeit unexpectedly, the inevitable happened. She got caught by me, her husband.

I had been brought back into town from another project, on very short notice, to attend this particular conference. Following the only presentation I was interested, I had, in fairly short order, made my way to the hospitality suite. As clichéd as it was, I was surprised to spot Kathy, across the crowded room, completely unaware of my presence, cosying up to a stranger, dressed like a tart. Feigning ignorant curiosity, I asked a colleague who she was. "I don't know if she's a call girl or an employee of the Halliborns, but I understand that she's very good at 'keeping the customers happy!' If you know what I mean. Nudge, nudge!"

I didn't have to think long on the meaning of that, as I watched Kathy slip out, giggling, with a man, whose hands were all over her. Discovering that my wife was a company whore was, to put it mildly, quite a surprise; however, the fact that I was even there showed that I wasn't all that innocent. It was easy to reserve judgement. When she emerged, a half-hour later, from the bedroom, I approached her from the side and whispered in her ear, "We'll have a lot to talk about when we get home."

She jumped and stumbled and stuttered and went pale. I could feel her shocked gaze drilling into my back as I left her with a dismissive wave and a flippant, "Later!"

I walked to my rental car, and headed home to have a drink while I waited. "What next?" I wondered, images of my dear wife running across the screen of my mind like so many X-rated movies.

Kathy said she was, quite understandably, preoccupied for the rest of the evening. She arrived home hours later, sneaking in apprehensively. I greeted her calmly, and with some prodding she eventually told full story – totally objectively, like she was filing a report, in complete and precise detail.

She recounted it as if it were a routine journey up the corporate ladder. I was amazed, and embarrassed that it had gone on so long without my even being suspicious – one of the costs of being a workaholic, I s'pose. She talked about 'brownie points' and future promotions. I kept my mouth shut, but it seemed clear to me that she had already fabricated her own glass ceiling. At that point, she could never have risen further than Executive Personal Assistant, which was, in this case, a cute euphemism for office slut.

I was curious, but, curiously, not angry. I suppose I put it down to, "The things people do to further their corporate ambitions." I figured I was the same – really. Only the circumstances were different. So, it was, for me, easy to forgive. Furthermore, I loved her, and she proclaimed she still loved me. "I really, really like my job," she protested, a hint of pleading in her voice.

"And," I thought – but kept to myself, "if part of that job is official company slut, so what?"

Shrugging her shoulders, she continued thoughtfully. "I don't know how, exactly, in my scramble up the corporate hierarchy, I somehow became a purveyor of sexual favours," adding, with a wry flourish, "...and I'm good at it – satisfaction guaranteed!"

Drilling me with her glaze, she reached out to touch my hand, and gave it a squeeze. "But I love only you!"

In the six weeks following my discovery, Kathy spent a lot of time – much of her time – entertaining customers and inducing investment. We didn't let on to anyone that I was party to her secret life. As I'd requested, she kept me faithfully apprised of her activities and duties. In many ways, in most ways, nothing had changed.

Nights after especially active jobs, she would come home with preternatural glitter in her eyes, and relate the details of some especially lurid experience, while trying to fuck me to death. During one evening's debriefing, Kathy confessed that, somewhere along the line, it had become less about the brownie points and more about the sex – the stimulus and satisfaction, the arousal and climax.

"I don't know," she pondered aloud, "Have I simply become a nymphomaniac?" Looking up at her as she rode me to yet another orgasm, I didn't know what to say, so I just shrugged, and let her intense sexual allure sweep me away.

The last business function Kathy participated in was a big gala, organized by Barrett himself and heralding the latest Halliborn product. All of the Halliborns' clients and associates, past and present, were invited. The unveiling or product introduction was to be held in one of the convention-centre ballrooms. Furthermore, Lori and Barrett had rented a large suite, upstairs, to be used as their hospitality suite, as well as a couple satellite suites, on the same floor. The larger suite had a huge bedroom, ideal for the sort of hanky-panky Kathy dealt with.

I wasn't invited, still playing the part of the 'clueless husband' and all, but I eventually got the whole story, in the same emotionlessly, precise detail as earlier.

Before leaving the office for the event, that morning, Lori had pulled Kathy aside and given Kathy a very large bonus – her largest yet by a long shot – saying they, she and Barrett, just wanted to make sure she got it, as they may be leaving the event a bit early. They'd stay, of course, for all the speechifying, but may, she warned, leave during the festivities.

Glancing into the envelope, Kathy was so shocked by the amount of the bonus that she didn't think to ask why they might be leaving early. "Thanks for all your hard work," Lori purred, touching Kathy on the arm and leaning in to buzz her on the cheek. Turning on her heel, she waved. "See you downtown."

Kathy stopped to deposit most of the cash in her secret hidey-place account, before making her way to the hotel's convention hall. She surveyed the room, to ensure its readiness, then ascended to the company's suite. And soon the event got underway.

Later, while mingling with the cocktail crowd in the hospitality suite – but still early enough in the proceedings that there remained an air of propriety – Hank, a powerful exec and blustery fifty-something business associate of the Halliborns whom Kathy had serviced at other times, caught her and introduced Celena as his new PA – "Nudge, nudge, wink, wink!"

Seeming just a little overwhelmed, Celena was in her twenties and a real looker. After a short exchange, Hank gave his new employee over to Kathy's care. "Go teach her something about personal assistance," he said giving Kathy a big histrionic wink. "Some of your infamous tricks," he added, passing Celena's arm to Kathy. "Go have fun, girls," he said with a loud guffaw, turning to leave. "I'll catch you later, Celena." As Kathy ushered her toward the bedroom Celena was blustery, and wild-eyed.

Pausing in her telling, Kathy gave me a wry look, before adding, "She reminded me of myself – eager to get it right, so willing to go beyond the nine dots."

Resuming her tale: Kathy took her into the bedroom, and closed the door quietly, where, after much talk, and discussion of the toys Kathy had already laid out on the nightstand, they began to caress and explore one another. Celena had picked up a double-ender, raising a brow in question. Kathy explained she had bought it, just in case, but never used it. Kathy had, in fact, tended to several female clients, but had never gone farther than cunnilingus.

Anyway, there, midday, with a room full of businessmen only an unlocked door away, Kathy and Celena ended up madly fucking one another, with the double-ended dildo – "Just to try it out, you see," Kathy asserted with an almost comical matter-of-factness. Kathy added a glass-bead dildo into the mix, which after adequately lubricating, she threaded slowly into Celena's tight anus. Celena gasped, but, to her credit, did not complain. "You've got to be prepared for all eventualities in our position," Kathy explained. Although, she admitted to me in the retelling that it was more a demonstration of her dominance in the relationship. "In retrospect," she confessed, "it was a pretty thinly disguised bit of power-mongering, I suppose." She shrugged. "So it goes."

When they were done – and satisfied – Kathy directed Celena to wash and dry the toys. "Always make sure your tools are clean," she'd advised with a wink. Gathering and rearranging their clothing, Kathy ushered Celena out of the bedroom, back into the main suite. "Now go make people happy!" she'd chuckled, giving Celena a push. Smiling, Kathy realized that she may just have to steer Celena into the second bedroom. She'd cross that bridge when she got to it. Scanning the room, she caught sight of Celena, already schmoozing, then she left the suite to head back to the ballroom – the gala.

Kathy caught sight of the Halliborns heading down the hall, away from the ballroom, towards the exit. Heading the wrong way, she thought, but shrugged it off. "If I hadn't been so preoccupied, I might have wondered why they were leaving their own party so early."

A while later found herself back in the suite's master bedrooms, pressing a client rep back against the bureau. Kathy was engaged in active felatio, while simultaneously reaming his ass with the glass-bead dildo she'd used on Celena, earlier. Her partner, bouncing his butt against the dresser, had his head thrown back and was whimpering piteously as he pushed into the edges of his impending climax.

Suddenly a woman appeared at their side and started screaming – cursing the man Kathy was currently servicing, the woman's errant husband, she turned on Kathy, just as the man, the husband started to cum in Kathy's mouth. Instinctively she forced herself hard onto the ejaculating tool, deep-throating him, to milk every last drop of cum he could produce.

"Get away from him, you whore!" The distressed wife grabbed the giant double-ended dildo – handy on the bureau – and swung it at Kathy, walloping her on the side of the head. Kathy pulled off the suddenly shriveling, still dripping erection, and drew the glass dildo swiftly out of its sheath – the husband's rectum. She swung blindly, slashing back at her attacker. The shit-smeared glass shaft caught the woman on the cheek. And shattered!

There was blood everywhere!

Hotel security arrived instantaneously, or so it seemed. Before Kathy could even find her clothes, she was grabbed and held until the police arrived – which didn't seem to take long, amidst all the yelling and crying, and pointing of fingers. Kathy was arrested and cuffed so fast it made her head spin. Eventually given a blanket, pulled over her shoulders and held in front by a female officer, she was taken to the station.

I wasn't worried that Kathy hadn't arrived home by midnight, but I was concerned that she hadn't called by 8:00 the next morning. Just as I'd decided to start calling around, I got the call. She was in jail – charged with prostitution and assault! She couldn't talk much. She asked that I please contact our lawyer. I said I would, and rang off – shocked, perhaps more than I should have been, but shocked, nonetheless.

The following day, Sunday, Kathy called to tell me bail was set at a hundred grand. She asked, uncertainty colouring her voice, if I'd pay it. "Of course!" I replied, surprised. I got it arranged Monday morning and paid it. She was home, wearing paper coveralls, in the late afternoon. After getting showered and dressed, she pleaded exhaustion – understandably – and promised to give me a full account the next day. She chose to sleep, that night, in the spare bedroom. Having little idea what she was going through, I didn't question it. I'm sure neither of us slept well that night – I know I didn't!

The next day, with a glass of wine in hand, she told me all that had happened - once again, with a flat affect, in vivid and precise detail. Still, she was devastated; about the assault, about everything. Much of the day was quiet – pregnantly introspective. But later, in the evening, on the news, was an item about a local business couple, who had vanished. The Halliborns had disappeared, along with all of the liquid assets of their company – over forty million dollars. The money had been traced, initially, to and through an island bank in the Caribbean, from which it had vanished.

They, the Halliborns, had, it seems, been to object of an ongoing fraud investigation. That news upset Kathy even more. She had trusted the Halliborns – oddly enough, she had trusted them both – and she had thought of Lori as a mentor.

Kathy excused herself, and went quietly to bed – to our bed, in the master bedroom. I followed her in short order, not knowing what else to do, not knowing what to expect.

I slipped under the covers silently, and, without a word, Kathy snuggled against me. Putting my arms around her shoulders, I folded her into my chest and held still for a long moment – our clasp, tender and soothing – waiting until her breathing settled to a steady rhythm. She lifted her chin and our lips touched, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. After a while her fingers began to move between us, playing a soft tattoo against my nipples, calm and gentle. I dropped one hand, sliding over the smooth warmth of her skin to rest a feather-touch on the perfect curve of her hip. She started pushing harder against my kiss, probing hungrily with her tongue. Her fingers danced with increasing frenzy on my chest. Slowly, I lifted my hand from her hip, cupping her boob and twiddling her nipple in time with her fingers on me.

Her chest began to heave as she threw her head back to draw a ragged breath. Simultaneously, we each dropped a hand between us – hers to grip and stroke my throbbing erection, mine to dip fingers into her flowing pussy. Kathy gasped and jerked as I swirled around her clitoris, quivers running over her skin. Letting my fingertips retreat a sec, before dipping into her again, I played her like the instrument she was, nudging her along in a gradual, steady arousal; until a desperation rose in her, lighting a fierce sense of urgency. Kathy seemed to draw energy from me and my caresses. As her hips began to thrust and bounce, I slowly lowered myself, placing my swollen cock-head between her glistening labia. Without hesitation, I pushed into her – with one long, steady stroke.

Grabbing my ass with both hands, she pulled at me as if trying to consume me. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, eliciting a shocked shriek that melted into a squeal of excruciating delight. At the point of ignition, Kathy's spasming vagina detonated my climax, too. I could feel the torrents of semen jetting from my cock, washing away my here and now, leaving me vibrating insensate, collapsed against my still quaking wife.

The shared ecstasy of that orgasm seemed to blank out, for the moment, all the other shit. I knew that what we'd just had was special – so much more than mere sex, than just fucking, we had really, truly made love. And as the afterglow spread over us tears welled up in Kathy's eyes. Tears of joy or sadness, I couldn't tell. I didn't ask. But at that moment, I knew she loved me and I'm sure she knew that I truly loved her – regardless of her trespasses and sins, despite the shitstorm she currently found herself in. Catching our breath, slowly, we laid still in the gathering silence, and, bodies entwined, we went to sleep.

I was aware that Kathy got up in the middle of the night but thought nothing of it. I figured she was just brooding – contemplating.

In the morning, she was gone. She'd left a short tear-stained letter on the breakfast table. It read:

Dear, dearest Tom,

I can't stay, although I can't really say why. I have my nest-egg, and it's large enough to last for years.

Never, ever doubt that I love you. It's hard to consider living without you. You will always be the biggest piece of my heart!

I'd like to think that I could come back one day. I know, you've every reason to hate me, and I would be silly to think that you'd wait – but I can always hope!

Goodbye and farewell!

Love always,

Kathy

I'm sort of waiting. It's been eleven months so far, and I haven't heard a word. The initial police scrutiny has all but stopped, now. I'm dating and getting laid, but nothing serious, yet. Yeah, still waiting, I guess.