The Signing Bonus

I thought of a few more epithets to hurl at him but at the last second, I bit my tongue and just continued out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs. By the time I reached our bedroom I was in full melt down.

I guess I cried myself to sleep because at 8:30 I heard my daughter's voice in the hall and Richie saying, "she's okay, Honey, mommy just has a headache. She'll be fine in the morning."

After about a half hour I heard Rich go back downstairs, so, I guessed, he had read to her for a while. Even though she was ten years old, she still liked to be read to once in a while. Richie was a good father and had been ..., is a good husband, I thought. We were in an untenable situation and I was the one that convinced him that this was our only option.

After a while I got up to brush my teeth, comb my hair and change into my nightgown. As I looked in the mirror I wondered what the hell does Rollie see in this old face. I still have a nice figure and my 36C boobs weren't bad but he could buy a lot better for a thousand bucks an hour. When I got into bed I tried to read but my concentration kept being interrupted by thoughts of my husband and my lover. "Lover, huh, I thought, when did he stop being my customer and become a lover?"

At around eleven I turned off the light and went to sleep. I never heard or felt Richie get into our king-sized bed. He had always slept in the nude and me in just my panties. However, lately he wore his boxers and I wore a fairly plain nightgown. It had been a warm night and when I awoke Richie was still asleep, lying on his back. His erect penis was sticking out through the opening of his shorts. The sight started to arouse me and I decided to try to make up for my harsh words of last night. I quietly slipped my nightgown off and moved close to him and started to gently stroke it. It seemed to get even harder with my touch and even though he was still asleep, I leaned down and took him in my mouth. It wasn't long before I heard him moaning softly and then felt his hand on the back of my head and his soft moans turned to groans of pleasure. After a minute or two of sucking and licking him I threw my leg over him and guided his cock into me. He reached up and with both hands began fondling my breasts. After a few minutes of my riding him, he reached around and putting his hands behind my ass pulling me up to his mouth.

My first orgasm washed over me almost immediately. I moved back down and reaching his cock and re-inserted it in to me. He grabbed my hips and after a few seconds we had developed a rhythm, fucking furiously. Richie's breathing became shallow and fast and I could feel my climax approaching, also. We climaxed, simultaneously, amidst a series of grunts and moans. Exhausted, I fell forward onto his chest and we remained, wordlessly, in that position until his penis softened and slipped out. I had just rolled off on to my back when Rich looked at his watch and exclaimed:

"Damn, it's late we have to get Denise ready for school." With that he got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I continued to lay there, enjoying the afterglow but then I had a sad realization. We had not spoken one word. There had been no kissing, no terms of endearment, just the satisfying of a carnal need ..., on both of our parts. The thought of our emotional estrangement haunted me for the rest of the day.

Breakfast was a little more cheerful than usual and when I got back from dropping our daughter off at school, Richie either hadn't noticed or decided to ignore the fact that I had used the new Jeep to transport her. I expected, either a snide remark, or, a look of disapproval but when I went into the kitchen, he seemed more lighthearted than he had been since that first Friday. I was surprised when he asked if I'd like another cup of coffee and even prepared it for me while I sat. He sat across from me, smiled and said:

"By the way, that was wonderful this morning ..., thank you."

The "thank you" annoyed me. "What did he think..., that I was giving him a pity fuck."

However, I held my tongue, and he continued:

"I don't want to get my hopes up ..., our hopes up, but I've had some response from a company regarding my resume. I have a two o'clock phone interview scheduled with the

Director of Human Resources. Keep your fingers crossed, this may be our chance to get out of our current nightmare."

My irritation at his previous remark faded and I was genuinely happy to see the up-tick in his mood. I went over to him and bending down gave him a congratulatory kiss on the lips. He seemed genuinely happy, especially since this was Friday and his disposition usually soured at the looming prospect.

Then he hit me with it," Gwen, I'm going to get a hotel room for tonight and if 'the shit head' doesn't like it ..., too fucking bad. I am not going to be relegated to sleeping in recliner just to satisfy his sick perversion. And ... you know I can't sleep in our bed knowing that the bastard is across the hall fucking my wife. If worse comes to worse we can sell the Jeep and the money will tide us over until I get a job. The economy is improving and I'm sure I'll land something soon."

He said that with an air of finality that broached no discussion. At first, I felt resentment that he didn't consult me and discuss this but I, just as quickly, realized the torment and humiliation he must have been suffering all these weeks.

"OK, I said, we'll make it work."

He seemed satisfied and said he was keyed up about the telephone interview and was going to work in the basement. I really didn't think that Rollie would be upset. Aside from that first night he had not said anything derogatory about my husband and, in fact, only mentioned him in the context of our 'arrangement' but I thought it best to call him and tell him beforehand. I didn't want he to show up and think that I sand-bagged him.

When Richie went down to the basement I went upstairs and dialed Rollie's cell phone. Once again, he answered of the second ring, with:

"Hey Beautiful, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call. I hope you're not calling to cancel, I've been looking forward to our evening."

I explained what my husband had told me, leaving out the expletives. When I finished, he just chuckled and said:

"Nah, I don't care, he deserves a break. Truth be told, I'd even pay for his room. So, I assume we're still on for tonight?"

"Yes. Oh, and Rollie ..., I don't know what to say other than thank you ..., for the car, I mean.

For some reason I was in a good mood. Maybe it was having had sex with my husband. Maybe, with Richie gone, I'd feel less guilty when Rollie arrived or maybe ..., I thought darkly..., I just like being a slut.

Due to our recent financial crisis I had given up going to the beauty salon and had let my hair grow long and hadn't had a manicure in ..., well, I couldn't remember the last time. I decided to call Michelle's Spa and Salon, where I used to go, in hopes that they could squeeze me in.

Fortune smiled upon me and Michelle told me that Suzanne had a cancellation for a "full treatment" and if I would take the customers place, I could have it. When I asked what the "full treatment" entailed she laughed and said:

"Haircut, highlights, styling, nails and a Hollywood waxing."

I wasn't sure what a "Hollywood waxing was but I assumed it had to do with the trimming of some pubic hair. I was in such a giddy mood that I agreed. Now my problem was to convince my husband that I wasn't dolling myself up for Rollie. I went down to the basement and for the fourth time I lied. I explained that I wanted to get my hair trimmed but the only way I could get the appointment was to take the slot of a customer who had cancelled and that it would include a manicure and styling. I didn't mention the waxing but I'd deal with that when the time came. When he looked at me suspiciously, I said, quickly:

"I know what you're thinking and..., no, I'm not doing it for him. I haven't been to the salon in almost six months and I need to get my hair done. I have split ends and my nails look like crap."

He looked at me, wordlessly, for a few moments and then turning back to his work, replied:

"Well, if you have to be a whore, you might as well be a pretty one."

Needless to say, I was pissed but I just turned and left without a word.

At the salon, Suzanne cut about three inches off, added some highlights and suggested a French bun. I have a long slender neck so the look was perfect for me. The color of my Jeep was "Firecracker Red" so I picked a nail polish that closely matched it and had my fingers and toes done. Normally, I used very light color nail polish but since I had just been told that I'm a whore, I might as well act the part.

When it was time for my wax, I was embarrassed to have to ask what it was, exactly. Suzanne explained that with a Hollywood wax I would be completely hairless. When she saw my apprehension, she suggested that for my first time I might want to try the French wax, it would leave a small patch of hair above my labia and was somewhat less painful than the other procedure. I accepted her advice and when it was done I decided that was as much pain as I ever wanted to experience down there. When she held the mirror for me to see, the pubic hair on my mons had been shortened and the hair on my labia was gone but it looked a little puffy.

Suzanne, is probably under thirty, with long, loose dark curls with purple highlights that hang past her shoulder. She has small perky breasts that were almost completely exposed when she leaned over, due to her low-cut blouse. I could actually see the tops of her areola's, which I think she did intentionally. At about 5'1", she weighed about ninety pounds and had elaborate tattoo work on both arms. Her attractive face was adorned with a nose ring, eyebrow stud, multiple ear studs and, when she spoke, I glimpsed a gold stud in her tongue.

My mind wandered, as I pondered the esthetic value of having a tongue stud, especially since it is rarely viewed. "How much does it hurt? How does it affect speech and eating?" Those questions flashed through my mind as Suzanne was getting something from a cabinet, off to my side. She squatted down in front of me, holding a tube of, what appeared to be a cream of some sort, when she said:

"This is an organic cream with aloe and some other natural ingredients, it will help reduce the irritation and swelling. When you get come you can use some cold compresses and your pussy will back to normal in a few hours."

She had a devilish look in her eyes as she squeezed some onto her fingers and started to apply it to the waxed area. She did it slowly and never having had a woman touch me down there, my body, automatically, twitched. As she continued to slowly apply the cream, her finger grazed my clit several times and I started to become aroused. I was embarrassed that she might have noticed so to conceal my discomfort, I blurted out:

"Suzy, I noticed your tongue stud, doesn't that hurt? Of course, I've seen them before but I always wondered what purpose it served."

The mischievous look was back in her eyes, when she replied: It hurts at first but only for a week or so. As for the purpose ..., well, you'd have to ask my lovers, she laughed. She leaned close to my ear and in a whisper, added, if you'd ever like a demonstration, give me a call."

I could feel the color rise in my face. Fortunately, she moved away and my "treatment'" was complete. I thought that maybe I should complete the look and go get a tattoo and a tongue stud but I had experienced enough pain for one day. Of course, I wasn't seriously considering either..., just a little fantasy.

Frankly, I had never felt so sexy in my life and I didn't care who liked it or didn't, a new me was emerging and I liked how it felt. Thanks to Rollie I had a little extra slush fund that Richie wasn't aware of. If Rollie stayed even ten minutes past the two-hour mark, which I think he did on purpose several times, he would leave an extra thousand dollars in the envelope. However, after my husband's outburst about getting "a tip" on my second date..., as I now thought of them, I would count the money after locking up behind him and if there was extra I removed and stashed it.

So, in keeping with my new persona I stopped at Victoria's Secret and bought a sexy, lacy bra and panties set along with a matching camisole, red of course, to match my sexy nails and ..., well, not too sexy car. All of my current undergarments were white, beige, grey and a un-sexy black. I was on a roll and still irate at Richie's "whore" comment, I stopped when I saw a mannequin clothed in a long sleeved, low cut, maroon blouse with lacy black sides that partially exposed the shoulders all the way down to the wrists. The blouse was over a tight fitting, leather pants, along with three inch, open toed, wedge sandals. They had everything in my size and I bought them all. At Dillard's I purchased a lip-stick to match my nails and, after sampling several perfumes I decided on a bouquet that was delicate but completely contrary to my usual soapy, "soccer mom," fragrance.

I was running late but knew that I would have enough time to pick up Denise, so I texted Richie that I was on my way to the school. I received a, curt, five-word text in reply, "Good, I'll see you tomorrow."

Well, I guessed he decided to begin his self-imposed exile a little early. I was still pissed at his comments of this morning but actually happy that he wouldn't be there to see my new look and give me a ton of shit and, probably tawdrier, accusations. On my drive to the school I realized that I was losing respect for my husband. It wasn't fair and in the back of my mind I knew it but had he found a job, we wouldn't be in this predicament.

"Mommy, you look beautiful, my daughter exclaimed as she hoped into my car. Does Daddy like it?"

At that question I remembered that I had not given a thought as to what I was going to tell her as to why her father would not be home when we arrived. It would have been a lame excuse to anyone other than a ten-year-old, but I quickly replied:

"No, your dad had to go see a man about a job and since it's pretty far away he's going to stay over at a hotel tonight, but he'll see it in the morning."

Later, when I dropped Denise off at the Jensen's, Janet invited me in and noticing my new look, commented:

"Wow, Sweetie, you look great. I didn't realize waitresses had to look so chic."

It was an innocent statement and not meant to be accusatory but as my new character as whore and liar was evolving, I quickly responded:

"I'm filling in for the hostess for two weeks while she's on vacation so I have to project the image." I laughed.

"Oh,well, that's good ..., I guess." This time I sensed that her words contained a hint of suspicion, but she said no more.

When I got home I still had several hours to kill before my "date" with Rollie. I threw together a chef's salad and had a couple of glasses of Chardonnay to wash it down.

I was feeling a light buzz when I went upstairs to prepare. I took a shower, careful not to disturb my new coif. I dabbed some of my new perfume behind my ears and between my breasts before applying my makeup. I couldn't resist reexamining my wax job so I carefully laid on the bed and using my hand-held mirror, I examined my new look. It wasn't as stark looking as it had appeared in the salon and, in fact, it looked quite erotic.

Remembering the sensation of when Suzanne had applied the cream I found my own finger gently rubbing the lips of my outer labia and then inserting it inside..., just a little. It immediately moistened to my touch and I started to softly massage my clit. Within a minute I experienced a small orgasm. It wasn't that I was a stranger to masturbating but I had not done it often, and certainly, not in quite a while.

I was tempted to retrieve one of my toys that Rich and I used on occasion but since I had the real thing arriving soon, so I resisted the urge. Instead, I used a wash cloth to remove any scent of sex and added a drop of perfume between my thighs. Next, I donned my new outfit, one that, hopefully, Richie would never see. I knew the sandals would make me a few inches taller than Rollie but the ensemble would not be complete without them. Besides, I thought, surely Rollie has been with taller women and he has never exhibited any paranoia about his height.

I marveled at the reflection in my full-length mirror. I was no longer the conservative wife and mother, I was the expensive hooker that I had transformed myself into and I wasn't displeased at the image. With a little more time to kill, I went downstairs and after turning some soft music on in the living room, decided on another glass of wine. I was surprised when the doorbell rang, just after nine o'clock, and immediately panicked that it might be that Richie had changed his mind and come home. The thought of why he would ring rather than use his key didn't dawn on me, at that moment.

I was relieved when I opened the door and saw Rollie there holding a small package. He must have misinterpreted my look of apprehension as agitation at his early arrival, so he said, apologetically:

"I'm sorry if I came a bit early but, after what you said on the phone, I thought the coast would be clear." I took his arm and guided him inside and once the door was closed, put my arms around him and gave him a passionate kiss. When we broke the kiss, he held me at arm's length and, lasciviously, eyeing me from head to toe: exclaimed:

"Holy shit, babe, you may be being under-paid. You look fantastic."

I was a little hurt about the "payment" remark. I realized that I had started to think of him more of as a generous lover. But, when he took me back into his arms and opened his lips, my tongue automatically sought his and my slightly bruised ego was soothed.

"I didn't know if you'd like red or white." He said as he removed two bottles of wine from the bag. I had already had my fill but since he had been thoughtful enough to bring it, I said:

"White would be lovely." The wine was already chilled so I went to the kitchen to pour two glasses. I was surprised when I felt two arms encircle me and felt his semi-erect cock push into my cheeks. Other than when he'd leave the envelope on the table before he would depart this was the first time we had been in the kitchen together and for some reason it seemed naughty and arousing. Richie, had many times done this same thing as I worked around the kitchen. Fortunately, the wine and my excitement kept my guilt at bay.

We barely finished a glass when we were half naked on the sofa. I thought it was a waste of an expensive outfit since my blouse was off and, it and my Lacey, red bra were a heap a heap on the floor. He had tried to slip his hand inside of my pants, but aside from them being too tight, I didn't want to ruin the surprise. His erection was sticking out through his pants so I opened my mouth and gave him a thirty second sample of things to come, before pulling him to his feet and guiding him to the stairs.

"No guest room tonight, I thought, I'd have plenty of time to clean up in the morning before Richie comes home."

I pushed him onto the bad and seductively removed his clothes before disappearing into the bathroom. When I came out in my skimpy red panties and matching camisole, Rollie was lying on his side facing my direction, while slowly stroking his erection. Unlike our only other time in this bed when the only illumination was from the outside ambient light, I had arranged it so that there were two small lamps lit, providing a romantic atmosphere.

I knelt on the bed and resumed my oral assault on his penis as he opened my camisole and fondled my breasts and nipples. My own excitement was reaching a fever pitch and I let him start pulling my panties off. I managed to reach behind me and pull them the rest of the way off and kick them to the floor, all without losing my rhythm.