The Signing Bonus

The Signing Bonus. A way out of debt or a way out of marriage.

This is a work of fiction and any names used that are used similar or the same of persons alive or deceased is purely coincidental.

Since I have never been successful in obtaining any of the editors recommended by Literotica, Spell Check is my editor.

This is a rather long story and I had thought of publishing it in two parts but eventually decided against that

As another author often says, I write these stories for my own amusement and hope that some of you will enjoy my endeavors.

*****

When I met, my now wife, Gwen, I was 25 and she was 23 years old. We have been together for just over twenty years, nineteen of them as man and wife. For reasons that are irrelevant to this story we delayed having children for eight years but we are now the proud parents of Denise, our 10-year-old daughter.

The years had been good to us, health wise, marriage wise and financially. Gwen is the same size 8 that she was when we married...5'8", dark brown hair, deep blue eyes and perky 36 C breasts. At forty-five, I've added 15 pounds but wear them fairly well on my 6'1" frame. I've started to develop a little pate but the rest of my dirty blond hair is still thick. I had my nose broken twice while playing ice hockey in school and the same love of hockey left me with a three-inch scar next to my left eye, which has faded over time. In other words, I'm no GQ model but Gwen insists that I'm "ruggedly handsome."

Three years ago, my wife and I bought our dream home, a four-bedroom, three bath home with a formal dining and living room, plus a media room. A year ago, we added an 18' by 36' in-ground pool.

At the time that I met Gwen I had just ended a fairly short but intimate relationship with my, then girlfriend, Sarah. Thank god, we had not gotten to the point of living together because that would have made the parting more complicated, when she finally told me that our trains were on different tracks, heading in different directions.

At the time we met, Gwen was dating a guy at her work who was a couple of years younger than me. They hadn't become lovers but he was madly in love with her and he was trying to move the relationship further along. Although she wasn't a virgin, Gwen hadn't been ready move to the next step, much less accept his hints of marriage. She got away with it by telling him that marriage was a life-time commitment and she wanted to see how the relationship developed.

We met, coincidentally, at an engagement party for Billy Traubert, a longtime friend of mine, and Gwen happened to be a friend of the bride-to-be. I won't say it was love at first sight but we really did hit it off. She had mentioned during our conversation that she was seeing someone that she worked with but did hint that it hadn't moved to a 'committed relationship'. I took that as my invitation and asked her out for the following weekend. She seemed momentarily undecided but after a few - very long - seconds, lit up my world with her smile and acceptance.

By the end of our second date we were making out and she allowed me a little boob action outside of her blouse. By the third date my hand was under her bra and she was rubbing my erection through my pants. On our fourth date she had consumed a couple of extra glasses of wine and I think she knew where my mind was heading. Back at my apartment there was little pretense of why we were there and within a few minutes we were in my bed making love.

Gwen is like an open book, she is forthright and honest and after our second coupling, as we lay on our backs recovering, she said:

"Richie, I think I'm falling in love with you." That was it, just once sentence, uttered as she stared at the ceiling.

Leaning over her I kissed her lips and replied: 'thank god, I would hate to have my love unrequited." We didn't make love again to seal the deal, we were both too exhausted. We fell asleep in one another's arms, content in the knowledge that we had found our soul mates.

When we awoke Sunday morning we stayed in bed and did" seal the deal" several more times before our stomachs demanded that we find nourishment. After some coffee and frozen waffles, Gwen's elated demeanor morphed into a more serious expression and looking in my eyes, she said:

"Rich, I know what we did last night and this morning was beyond wonderful but I want you to know it wasn't just the sex. I'm sure you realize, by now, that I've had sex before but I don't want you to think that I am a loose woman. I've had a few relationships but they were physical - not emotional. What I feel now is so totally different that there is no comparison. I have never told anyone else that I love them and I need you to be perfectly honest with me: are we talking about a committed relationship here because I couldn't accept anything less..., not with you. If you want me to tell you about the other men..., and, there were only three...I will. Frankly, I don't want to hear about any past girlfriends, that was then and this is now."

I stood up and taking her by the arm, guided her back to my chair and sat her on my lap. We kissed, tenderly, and I said:

"I don't want to hear about old boyfriends and as for my past love-life I don't want to bore you to death, I laughed. As for commitment, it's only two o'clock and the mall is open till six. I'll bet Zales has an engagement ring to suit your fancy. I don't want to give you a chance to change your mind. Gwen, will you marry me?"

She did find a ring that she loved and although it was a little large she wanted to take it with her and have it resized at a later date. We couldn't stand being apart so on the way home from the mall we stopped at her place and she picked up enough stuff to last her a couple of days. She could stop every so often and gradually move in to my apartment.

I was curious the next morning when she was getting ready for work and wasn't wearing her ring, so I casually asked her about it. She put her arms around me and kissed me softly, before saying:

"Honey, today is going to be a little tough for me. I'm going to have to tell Rollie about us and I thought..., well, I thought, wearing my ring might just add salt to the wound."

She had told me about Roland and even though he wasn't a boyfriend in the true since of the word, he had told her that he loved her and had hinted about marriage, someday. I had never met him but from how Gwen described him, he seemed like a nice enough guy, so I didn't envy her the task. I remembered how when my ex-girlfriend gave me her "trains and tracks" analogy, I was still hurt and my ego had taken awhile to bounce back. Sarah and I didn't live together and had never professed out love for one another but I had thought we were exclusive and heading in that direction.

Gwen and I were married in a small ceremony four months later. Her parents were divorced but they both attended, along with my mom and dad and a few friends and acquaintances. We hadn't had much time to acquire any mutual friends but everyone at the small reception we had at a local restaurant seemed to meld and enjoy themselves.

Gwen only quit her job as an assistant store manager just before Denise was born, wanting to be a stay at home mom. My career was a stock analyst was moving along smoothly and I earned enough in salary and bonuses to fund a comfortable life style. The problem was that neither Gwen or I were particularly frugal. Instead of diversifying our savings I put a good deal of our disposable income into the market. The house that we had bought was about fifteen percent more than we had originally budgeted for but we fell in love with it and figured that my increasing income would make up for it in the short-haul. The pool that we had installed, along with both of our cars were financed, so we lived on the edge of fiscal responsibility.

Then, out of the blue, the market crashed along with my job and the reality of our financial situation hit us like a freight train. There were no jobs for stock analysts in a depressed economy and what little was left of our portfolio had to be liquidated in order to keep us afloat. We were drowning in a sea of debt and four months after losing my job the first foreclosure notice arrived in the mail.

The only business experience that my wife had was in retail and the rapidly growing unemployment numbers afforded her little opportunity for employment. My unemployment check barely covered our food, utilities and one car payment. Late notices flooded our mail box and by selling one of our vehicles we were just able to pay off the balance of the note.

One night after putting Denise to bed we sat over coffee and discussed our options. There weren't many. Gwen's parents were divorced and her father lived month-to-month on disability. Her mom was a part-time waitress so neither of them could be of any help. My parents were retired and lived a modest life style but at the end of our discussion I promised that I would contact them to see if they could help, at least a little. Both Gwen and I were "only children" so there were no siblings to reach out to. My wife told me that she would go to the bank the following morning and speak to a loan officer about delaying the foreclosure or possibly reducing the monthly payment.

The next morning, after dropping our daughter off at school, Gwen headed downtown to the bank. I spent every day on the computer either researching job opportunities or submitting resumes. At about two o'clock my wife came home and by the look on her face I could tell that her quest had been unsuccessful, she had tears running down her cheeks and, unable to speak, just shook her head and went into the kitchen. I finished what I had been doing and gloomily, joining her at the table. For a few minutes neither of us spoke as Gwen stared at her hands. Finally, she looked up and said"

"The guy at the bank was sympathetic and kind but there doesn't seem to be any option for us.

I wasn't surprised but I was still depressed. We were out of options and, frankly, I had no idea of what to do. Our house would soon be gone and when my unemployment ran out we'd lose the car. For the first time in my adult life I just wanted to cry.

Gwen put her had on top of mine and in a soft voice, said:

"There may be a way for us to get out from under but I know you're not going to like it."

I looked at her inquisitively but said nothing, so she, hesitantly continued:

"The reason that I took so long was that as I was leaving the bank I heard someone call my name and when I turned around it was Rolllie."

"Whose Rollie?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Roland Dursten, she said like I should remember, "he was the guy I was sort of dating when I met you. Well, he was in the next office at the bank and overheard me pouring my heart out to the loan officer. After we exchanged some pleasantries he asked me if I would have lunch with him. When I told him that I had to get home he mentioned that he might have a business proposition that I might want to consider. I was curious, along with being desperate, so I agreed and we went to the cafe across the street."

She stopped there seemingly to formulate her words. I extended my hands, palms up, in a gesture for her to continue. She sighed, heavily and looking away, continued:

"Rollie is in commercial real estate and is now a millionaire several times over. He even owns a few high-rise office buildings in the downtown area. Well..., know it sounds crazy but, she stammered out, he said he never married because he never got over me. He said you stole me away from him."

"Me, I exclaimed, I never even met this guy. That was 20 years ago, for god's sake."

"I know, I know. I tried to explain it to him, again, but I don't think he was really listening. He didn't say anything for a few moments but then he asked how bad my financial situation was. I was still shaken from the banks refusal to help us and I sort of broke down and told him almost everything. I was still interested in what he had to say about a "business opportunity' and I was hoping he would offer me a job."

Again, she hesitated and looked away, apparently in contemplation. When she didn't continue I asked, impatiently: "well, did he offer you a job, or not?"

She looked at me briefly but then turning away, whispered:

"Sort of. He wants———he offered...

"Jesus Gwen, I interrupted, in exasperation, did he offer you a job or not?"

With forced determination, she blurted:

"He said if I have sex with him once a week he will pay me $1000 an hour with a minimum of two hours, and if...

I'm not the kind of guy who gratuitously uses foul language but a torrent of obscenities poured from my mouth as I slammed my fist on the table. "That son of a bitch, bastard, I yelled. Are you serious, that low-life mother-fucker offered you money to be his whore. I'll rip his fucking head off."

At my outburst, Gwen looked both scared and shocked. Nervously, she started wiping up the coffee that had splashed from our cups when I pounded the table. When my throat stopped pounding and my breathing returned to normal, I asked:

"So, what did you tell that little prick?"

"He's not that little", she replied without thinking.

"No? What is he, 5'6", 5'7". You told me he was shorter than you and you're 5'8".

It took a moment for my brain to process what she meant and she started to stammer something when I yelled:

"You told me that you never fucked him. Are you telling me that you lied?"

She looked me in the eyes and with some defiance, said, "I didn't ..., fuck him, as you so eloquently suggest but I never said that I hadn't seen it. We were dating for months, for god's sake."

She put her hand on mine as a calming gesture but I quickly yanked it away. I was pissed. It sounded like she wasn't that upset with her ex-boyfriends' lurid proposal. We sat in silence for several minutes before she spoke. There was desperation but determination in her voice, as she began:

"Listen, Rich, we have fallen on desperate times. In a month maybe - two, we are going to be homeless. I'm sure your parents will take Denise but we all can't live in a one-bedroom apartment, in another state. Our car will be gone and we may be living in a cardboard box under an overpass"

Her voice was rising in exasperation as she continued:

"How are you going to find a job with no car and no computer. I don't think I'd do well eating all of my meals in soup kitchens, wondering where I'll get my next shower. I don't want to lose my daughter and I don't want to lose you. Roland has offered me a $10,000 signing bonus if we agree. We would be able to save the house and keep our family together. Eight thousand a month will more than keep us afloat, until you can find a job. I know this is far from an ideal solution and I know he's doing it, partly, to rub your nose in it but what choice do we have."

In a more conciliatory tone, she added"

"Richie, you know how much I love you and I know you love me. This..., this, arrangement is for 2 hours a week, it won't affect us. We won't let it. Honey, think about it, I wasn't a virgin when we met but you are the only man I have ever loved or ever will love. I know this is a terrible sacrifice but I think it's one we can live with———for a while, at least."

God help me, but the thought of saving our family and keeping everything, we've worked for lingered in my brain longer than I would have expected. However, I replied sarcastically:

"Well, it seems like most of the 'sacrifice' will be on my shoulders, knowing you're here fucking your old boyfriend while I'm out drowning my sorrows."

An instant look of guilt crossed her face and she was wringing her hands. I assumed it was the realization of the truth to my last statement but she again looked away and said, in an almost inaudible voice:

"There's a stipulation that he insists on."

"What the fuck else does the bastard want? What, does he want me to sit there and watch while he fucks my wife?"

"No, she said, timidly, but he insists that you not leave the house while..., while he's here.

"Fuck him!" I yelled as I got up and leaned over the sink. My head was pounding and I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I felt so trapped and helpless.

When I looked back Gwen had her face in her hands with her elbows on the table and although I couldn't hear her I saw her body shake with silent sobs. At that moment, I realized that my wife was only on board with this to save our family and our home. I walked behind and placed my hands, gently, on her shoulders and asked:

"When?"

"He wants an answer by Friday, she whined ..., and if I ..., if we agree, he will have a contract that we will both have to sign."

"What kind of contract, I asked more calmly than I felt, how can there be a legal contract to extort sex from someone?"

"He said it was a contract that would state that I would perform unspecified 'personal services' for him and you agree not to sue him for alienation of affection at any time in the future."

******

We went to bed that night holding one another knowing that we were out of options. There was no doubt in my mind that this vindictive pervert was not only punishing me for supposedly, having stolen his girl but was also punishing Gwen for having dumped him. However, I had no illusions that given Gwen's high libido she would not be able to resist his sexual ministrations. Also, I had no doubt that he intended to try to win her back with his money and influence but I was hoping that our relationship was strong enough to withstand his onslaught.

When Friday finally arrived, my wife and I tried to act as normal as possible, especially for Denise's sake. We took her and her friend Melissa to the park, played on the swings and took them for a 'Happy Meal' and then ice cream. We had arranged for our daughter to spend the night at Melissa's house. The Jensen's' were close friends and they knew some of our financial circumstances. We told them that we had secured jobs as bartender and waitress, on Friday nights, at the country club.

As ten o'clock approached Gwen was in the kitchen busying herself and I was in the den watching the 72" wide screen TV that we had charged on our credit card before disaster struck. The TV was on the wall, the screen facing the entry to the den so my back was to the doors leading in. If my life depended on it, I couldn't tell you what was playing on the screen. When the doorbell chimed I saw Gwen's reflection walk past me to the front door. I heard low voices and after a minute or two, heard Gwen walking past the den. I could sense that she had stopped and when I looked over my shoulder she held up a bottle of wine and said tentatively:

"He bought this ..., do you want some?" I looked at her like she was crazy and she said:

I'm sorry, I just don't know what to say". With that she continued in to the kitchen. I closed the bi-fold doors and turned the TV volume up. With our finances, or lack thereof, we could no longer afford to have liquor in the house but I had found a, nearly full, bottle of Marsala that Gwen used for cooking and I was drinking it straight from the bottle.

At 3:30 in the morning I awoke in my recliner with a sour stomach and an urgent need to piss. After using the hall bathroom, I went to the front door. As I passed the living room there was a light on and I observed what looked to be an empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. When I peered through the front door glass, his car was gone. I couldn't bear the thought of going upstairs so I went back to my recliner, trying, unsuccessfully, to push the images out of my mind.

I dozed, on and off, until 6:30 and decided that I needed to get some coffee. When I retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and placed it on the table I noticed a thick manila envelope sitting there. I opened it to find a stack of bills and as I absentmindedly pulled them out, I noticed they were all crisp one hundred-dollar notes. I started to shove them back in but my curiosity got the better of me and when I finished counting there was $12,000.