The Signing Bonus

By Friday I had convinced Richie that we were out of options and that the arrangement would not affect my love for him or the strength of our marriage. I was praying that I was right.

Reluctantly..., very reluctantly, he acquiesced.

On Monday, while Rich was continuing his internet job search, I went to the kitchen and with a heavy heart, called Rollie's cell phone. He must have programmed my number into his phone because he answered on the second ring, with:

"Gwen ... sweetheart, I'm glad you called. I hope you have some good news for me."

Trying to sound as business like as possible but with a shaky voice, replied:

"Probably, I discussed it with my husband and he is rather distraught but we are out of options, financially. However, before I say 'yes' I'd like to know more about the specifics of our arrangement."

He didn't sound condescending or arrogant when he replied: "Well, Gwen, I don't think there is much that I can add. The payments will be in cash. You'll receive the ten thousand, plus the first two thousand, after our first evening together. I think it would be best to establish a routine, especially since you have a child to consider. I usually have an early dinner at the club on Friday nights and I could be at your place by ten o'clock."

He had stopped speaking and was apparently waiting for my reply. Finally, I said:

"Alright, I guess that works for me. I'll just have to work out something for my husband and daughter." When I said that I was hoping that he would compromise and allow Richie to leave the house while he was there. My hopes were crushed when he replied"

"Gwen, I understand that you will want to make arrangements for your little girl. Then more forcefully, he added, but I insist that your husband be at home while we are together."

"Rollie, why? Is that really necessary," I whined.

"I'm afraid so, sweetheart. First, it will insure to me that your husband is on-board with our arrangement. Secondly, it protects me legally from any future malicious claims on his part and thirdly, it provides me with a little payback to the man who stole my fiancé."

"Fiancé? Rollie, we weren't engaged" I said with some exasperation.

"We would have been, he retorted. I had already purchased a ring and was waiting for the right moment, but then 'HE' came along and took you away. Anyhow, that's part of the deal ..., if we still have one.

When I didn't answer, he said: Assuming we have a deal, I will have a courier drop off the contract on Wednesday and ..., I'll look forward to seeing you on Friday. Unfortunately, I have two people waiting for me in my outer office. Don't worry, Gwen, I will try to make this as pleasurable as possible, for both of us. Gotta run."

Even though we tried our best at normalcy, things were tense during the week and we both avoided the 500-pound gorilla. We concocted a story about us getting a Friday gig at the country club and the Jensen's were more than happy to keep Denise overnight.

When Friday arrived, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Melissa's parents had invited Denise for dinner so we dropped her off at five o'clock. We picked up pizza and were home by six, but neither of us ate much.

The next four hours would prove to be the longest in my life..., and I'm sure Richie's too. In order to fill the void, we went into the living room and watched TV. Unconsciously, I must have looked at my watch twenty times until I saw Richie looking at me, frowning. I certainly didn't want him to think I was anxious as opposed to terrified, so I stopped checking the time..., even though it killed me. I thought about going upstairs to fix my hair and put on some makeup but, fortunately, realized how that would look and just as quickly dismissed the thought. I wasn't thinking of doing it for Rollie, it's just a woman thing, done out of habit.

We had not spoken a word while sitting there and around 9:30 Rich got up, looking absolutely miserable. He mumbled, "I'm going to watch TV in the den. When I glanced at him he added: "Not in our bed, OK?"

I looked away and just nodded. I left the television on..., seeing and hearing nothing. My heart was in my throat and I pushed all the thoughts of what would likely transpire in the next couple of hours out of my mind. When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, I almost jumped out of my skin. I turned the TV off and as I headed to the door I could hear the television in the den playing louder than normal.

Standing in the entrance-way, Rollie looked as comfortable and relaxed as I felt nervous and scared. I forced a polite smile to my lips and invited him in. He handed me a bottle of wine and said pleasantly, but with an air of confidence:

"Why don't we have a glass of wine, sit and talk for a while, and relax."

I had to walk past the open den door to go to the kitchen to open the wine and get glasses. Being so nervous I stupidly stopped and asked Rich if I could get him any. He turned and looked at me like I had just come from another planet. When I returned down the hall with the wine and glasses the den doors were closed.

Rollie was standing when I entered and he waited for me to sit before he sat next to me on the sofa. A brief thought of sitting in the arm chair had crossed my mind but I quickly realized the futility of that. I had made a deal with the devil and I was going to deliver what I had promised. I was getting paid more than most escorts and most of them were a lot younger and more attractive than me. I also realized that the man sitting next to me had an obsession and I was now glad that Richie was in the house. At least if he turned out to be a psycho I could scream and have my husband come to my rescue.

I hadn't even realized that Rollie had started speaking and he was recounting the days of our "courtship", as he described them. He was talking about some of the funnier things that happened while we worked together, mutual friends and things we had done together, including the time when we almost got caught in making out in the stockroom by another employee. He talked mostly about himself but also asked about me and my daughter, never once mentioning Rich. Of course, what mother can resist talking about her child, so he cleverly

managed to get me to reveal some of my life, without ever referring to my husband.

He was still drinking his first glass of wine as he poured my third, which essentially killed the bottle. I had started to relax but was aware enough to realize that I was, half way, to drunk.

After about a half hour of conversation I was wondering if anything was actually going to happen. To my surprise I was sort of ambivalent about it. He had been charming, attentive and had not turned into the voracious, sexual monster that I had half expected. During a lull in the conversation he took the empty wine glass from my hand and after placing it on the coffee table put his arm around me and leaned in for a kiss. I was startled at first but then I thought, "hell we had done a lot more than kiss back then," so when his tongue entered my mouth, I willingly responded. After a few minutes he had my blouse open and was fondling my breasts. Between the wine and my increasing arousal, I hadn't even realized that I was rubbing his erection through his pants. I couldn't believe my own audacity when, after a few more minutes of making out, I took his hand and led him to the stairs.

He undressed me slowly, taking my blouse and bra off. Still standing, he sucked my erect nipples before lying me on the bed. When I kicked my shoes off he slowly removed my jeans and panties. As I lay naked on the bed he seductively removed his own clothes and when I saw his erection, it seemed larger than what I had remembered. Maybe that was because, back then he had been a little soft and scrawny but now with his thin waste and buffed body it looked almost scary..., almost.

I was naked on my back with my legs hanging off the bed when Rollie knelt on the floor, pulled me by my legs so that my sex was more accessible and, slowly..., maddeningly slowly, began to lick and kiss my pussy. I orgasmed almost immediately and as I did I realized that I was moaning rather loudly and clamped my hand over my mouth as the next wave of pleasure seized me. I was pretty sure that Richie couldn't have heard me from downstairs, but realized I would have to be more careful.

Despite his size, when he crawled on top of me he had no problem when I grabbed his cock and slipped it in to me. I couldn't count the amount of orgasms I had but it was about twenty minutes later when Rollie's body tensed and he released a low guttural moan. I could actually feel his seamen coursing through his penis with each spasm. Just as his last spurt entered me, I had to bury my head in his neck as in order to stifle my final orgasm.

As we lay waiting for our heart rates and breathing to normalize, a tremendous wave of guilt seized me. It had only been an hour since I had opened the door for him and I had already broken my word to my husband. Although we hadn't discussed it we both knew that with my high libido I would probably enjoy the sex, but not to the degree I just had. Worst of all, I remembered Richie's words, "not in our bed, OK." I had not even attempted to lead us to the guest room. I had already become so sexually aroused by the time that we got upstairs, that his admonition had not even crossed my mind.

Rollie was lying on his side gently fondling my tits and teasing my nipple and once again the thought of my suffering husband started to evaporate. I don't know if many..., or actually any, women are like me, but the more orgasms I have the more I want. Richie is a great lover but only on rare occasions do we go more than once. However, I'm sometimes, so turned on that I have, on more than several occasions, waited for him to doze off and used my fingers to bring myself to another climax.

Tonight, was no different and when he started to kiss and lick his way down my body and ended with his mouth on my vagina, my body started to tremble with excitement. My husband had never gone down on me after ejaculating into me and even though I could feel the wetness leaking onto my thighs, Rollie continued to lick my pussy.

I didn't resist when he pulled me on top of him. His tongue was darting in and out of me and we were in the classic sixty-nine position, with me on top. I had my head resting on his thigh as I stroked his erect penis, just inches from my mouth. I felt another wave of pleasure starting to surge through me and I couldn't resist putting it in my mouth. The closer I got to release the harder, and faster I sucked. On numerous occasions I have had an orgasm when giving my husband head and when I felt Rollie's first spasm I felt my pussy erupt.

After a while Rollie excused himself to use the bathroom and while he was gone my shame and guilt re-emerged. "Well, there it was, I was officially a prostitute," I thought.

When Rollie came out of the bathroom he started getting dressed. We had now been at it for almost two hours, all with hardly any words spoken. I had already slipped my robe on and was sitting with my knees against my chest with my back against the headboard. He was making some flattering remarks that I only half heard and when he leaned over to kiss my goodbye I managed to just give him my cheek..., a pretty hollow gesture, considering what I had just done. I hadn't even thought about the money but as he was leaving, he turned and said, gently:

I'll leave an envelope for you downstairs. See you next Friday."

"Some hooker I was, I thought through my tears, I didn't even get the john to pay up front."

I laid there a few minutes as thoughts of my husband and my daughter surfaced through my shame. Finally, I got up and quickly wiped myself with a wash-rag and quietly went downstairs to lock the front door. Before, going back up to shower I opened the den doors a crack and saw that Rich was asleep in the recliner, an empty bottle of wine on the end table next to him. At that moment all I wanted was to have him lay next to me and hold me. I was reminded of the absurdity of that thought as I felt more seamen trickle down my thigh.

In the morning, when I finally mustered the courage to go downstairs, Richie saw me as I tried to sneak our bedding into the laundry-shoot and later when he asked why I had not used the guest room, I told him my second lie.

Rich and I made love twice during that week and each time I realized how safe and comfortable I felt waking up in his arms. Rollie had just fucked me. Maybe he thought he was making love but to me it was just fucking ..., great fucking, but..., just fucking. I kept telling myself, "I'm getting paid well for this and if I derive pleasure from it, well, it's something that I just can't control. Still, the memory of the pleasure was over-shadowed by the shame.

The next Friday, I wasn't nearly as nervous as I had been previously and with a lot of conversations with myself I had convinced myself that this was a job and it was temporary fix to keep us out of the poor house. My mistake was that I was dressed in a skirt and blouse and my shoulder length hair was done, rather than in a pony tail. I had also applied some light makeup earlier in the day. I certainly wouldn't have considered my attire sexy or seductive and I had certainly not done it for Rollie..., at least, not consciously. However, Richie saw it differently and assumed that I had dressed up for my "appointment," which is what I now considered it. Some harsh words were exchanged just before Rollie arrived.

Richie was holed up in the den and when Rollie came in I decided not to sit in the living room and just get down to business. Unlike the previous Friday I was not already aroused when we climbed the stairs and I was determined that any activity would be in the guest room and not in our marriage bed. Rollie balked a little but when I started to rub his cock through his pants, he quickly relented.

I thought that maybe my previous Friday's, frenzied, reactions were due to the newness of not having had sex with anyone other than my husband for over twenty years, but Rollie was as an enthusiastic lover as he was skillful and I had a number of mind-blowing orgasms before he left, about two and half hours later.

Richie and I had a blowup the following morning and I left the house, hurt and angry. I spent the day with my daughter and her friend and when I returned home my husband had made dinner in an attempt to reconcile. Unfortunately, the girls and I had already eaten and gone for ice cream. Most of my anger had evaporated and I knew he regretted the hurtful comments he had made earlier. He tried to keep his back to me but when I heard the tears in his voice, my heart melted. We fell asleep in one another's arms but didn't make love again until Tuesday.

Another problem that we had was that since neither of us were working, we spent an inordinate amount to time tip-toeing around one another during the day. Fortunately, now that we had some discretionary income, my husband was able to purchase the supplies he needed to continue his basement project. So, when he wasn't on the computer continuing his job search, he was in the basement, hammering away.

However, during the hours that Denise was in school, I was going stir crazy, with nothing to occupy my time. Prior to Richie being laid off I busied myself with shopping, trips to the mall or Melissa's mom, Janet, and I would get to get together for coffee or an occasional lunch. Now, I rarely left the house. Not only did not want to leave Rich alone with his thoughts but, since we only had the one car, I would be stranding him alone, even though he rarely used the car, by himself anymore.

The next couple of weeks went without incident, although our love making had all but vanished. It wasn't for a lack of trying on my part, I still wanted and needed the emotional attachment that our love-making provided. In addition, along with our waning sex lives, our conversation..., although congenial, was stilted. Over the next two Fridays I noticed that instead of just the raw fucking that Rollie and I had engaged in, we were now talking and I was filling the conversational void that my husband had once provided.

Although, I did my very best to hide it from Richie, I started to look forward to Rollie's visits, not just for the hot sex but for the companionship, however brief. Rich and I didn't talk anymore. Oh, we communicated, but we didn't talk.

I even mentioned to Rollie how I felt guilty to leave my husband alone and that I only went out when it was necessary because we only had the one car and I didn't want him to feel like he was trapped.

I happened to be near the living room window he following Wednesday while Richie was working in the basement. I saw two vehicles pull into my driveway, a new red, Jeep Cherokee and an older Honda Civic. The guy in the civic remained in the car but the man in the Jeep got out and headed for our door. When I opened the door to the chime there was a fairly young guy, dressed casually, standing there. He smiled and asked if I was Mrs. Kenton. When I replied yes, he smiled, handed me a set of keys and a manila envelope.

"What is this?" I asked suspiciously.

"I don't know ma'am. My boss just told me to deliver the Jeep and give you this envelope. Smiling, he said, "I've got to get back to the dealership, have a nice day."

To say that I was confused, would be an understatement. After closing the door, I opened the envelope. Inside was a title and registration made out to Gwendolyn Kenton, for a brand-new Cherokee. There was also a plain white envelope, which when I opened it had a note inside that, simply, read: "in appreciation of our time together." Just about then I heard Richie coming up the stairs so I crumpled the note and jammed it in my pocket. When he saw me standing near the window, he asked:

'Did I hear someone at the door?"

Between the shocked look on my face and my inadvertent glance out of the window, he came and looked outside.

"What the hell is that," he asked, with genuine curiosity. I was still speechless so I just handed him the title and registration. When he asked where it came from, I told him my third lie.

"I don't know, there was no note, just this paperwork. A guy from the dealership delivered it and said he was just told to deliver it here. There was another car with him and he just got in and left."

It didn't take Rich long to figure it out because when the look of understanding reached his eyes, he growled:

"Well, fuck him it's going back..., you know what he's trying to do Gwen, right? He's trying to buy you ..., the fucking bastard."

With that he stormed off and went back down to the basement. I was still in shock but when the basement door slammed but I had to laugh. Apparently, Richie didn't realize how incongruous his statement about "buying me" was..., he had been doing that for five weeks, and with his approval.

Richie was sullen at dinner and after Denise left to watch TV, he demanded:

"So, what are you going to do about the car?"

I was angry, so I said, sarcastically, "say thank you."

He looked like he was going to explode but before he could respond I stood up, threw my fork on the table and hissed:

"It doesn't matter if he pays twenty dollars, two thousand dollars or twenty thousand, I'm still selling him my pussy and if you think I'm going to give him a refund —————, your nuts." As I was walking out of the kitchen, I turned and added, even more sarcastically, you don't seem to have a problem drinking that expensive scotch, having a full refrigerator or a roof over your head, instead of a cardboard box. How do you think we've got all that? It's because I spread my legs for him every Friday and if he wants to give me a thirty-thousand-dollar car, so be it."