The Signing Bonus

As we entered the hallway, leading to the bedrooms there was an indistinguishable, cacophony of sexual noises emanating through the doors and walls. All, but one, of the doors were closed but one was slightly ajar and when we peeked in, a couple was in one of the queen beds, moaning and groaning in the throes of passion. With the exception of some ambient light sneaking through the sides of the vertical blinds and the slightly opened door, the room was dark.

Lani didn't hesitate as she maneuvered us to the empty bed. The couple seemed to be oblivious to our presence as we tore at one-another's clothes, in between our fervid devouring of lips and tongues.

Even though I was, now, in a drug induced sexual frenzy, I was unsure of how to begin. Lani didn't hesitate though, once we were naked on the bed, she began to fondle one breast as she clamped her lips to my other one. Her tongue was flicking my hard, sensitive nipple as her hand moved to between my thighs and began to massage my wet vagina. When she inserted her finger into me I arched my back and pushed back onto each of her thrusts. I immediately orgasmed. When she moved her head between my legs and started to lick, suck and bite my clit, I screamed in pleasure.

I was desperate to taste her, to taste her essence on my tongue and in my mouth. Just the thought of it was orgasmic. Eventually, I was able to pull her legs over my torso and maneuver her pussy to my mouth. I had never had any lesbian fantasies, it wasn't that the thought of two women pleasuring one another repulsed me, it just wasn't something I had been interested in.

But, here I was, desperate to experience making love to another woman.

My brain was addled from the coke and whatever the champagne had been spiked with and my body was on fire with lust. Lani's moans and yelps of pleasure just fueled my desire to devour her and at that moment it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

I had completely forgotten that there had been two other people in the room, who had been so enraptured in their own sexual frenzy, when we entered the room. I was laying on my stomach with my head between her spread legs and my tongue was exploring every inch of her exposed pussy. I was in such a sexual frenzy that I barely noticed when hands spread my legs and another mouth began to pleasure me. I wasn't even sure if I wasn't experiencing a drug induced delusion. All I knew was that was ever was happening, I couldn't get enough of it, I was insatiable.

When the mouth and tongue that were affording me such sexual rapture, suddenly stopped, I wanted to reach back and pull it back into me. Within moments I felt the unmistakable feeling of an erect penis penetrating my labia and pushing its way into my vagina. The sensation was exquisite and as I got up on my knees in order to receive maximum penetration, I moved Lani's legs onto my shoulders and continued my oral assault on her pussy. I had no idea of who the penis was attached to and I didn't give a shit, I just wanted it continue as hard, fast and as deep as it could.

If my life depended on it, I couldn't say how many orgasms I had or if I even stopped orgasming. My mind had traveled to another plane and bodily pleasure was all that it hungered for.

Sometime, during my frantic spacial disconnect, I felt Lani's juices flow into my mouth and around my lips. I cannot adequately describe the euphoria I was experiencing; my brain was on fire and every nerve ending in my body felt electrified.

Eventually, the man who was pounding into my pussy, tightened his grip on my hips and with a series of guttural grunts spasmed his seed into me.

At that point I must have passed out because the next thing I recall is groggily, waking up to an early dawn light, with a man's leg and semi-erect penis draped over my thigh. I could feel a cold, sticky wetness between my legs. The side of Wallace's face was lying on the pillow, his mouth was open and a small amount of spittle leaked from the corner of his lips. The events of the previous evening started to become focused and a memory of the anonymous penis fucking me as Lani ground her pussy into my face, flashed through my mind.

I felt myself becoming nauseous and I needed to get to the bathroom. As gently as I could, I moved his leg off of me and rolled him on to his back. When I started to inch my way back off of the bed I was immediately blocked by the presence of another body. Thinking it was Lani, I cautiously turned to see the sleeping form of Rollie, facing away from me. With no other choice, other than to wake one of them, I sat up and inch by inch, scooted myself to the bottom of the bed and stood.

Fortunately, I had only eaten a few crackers and some caviar, so my level of nausea didn't reach the vomiting stage. When I sat on the bowl to pee I realized that my ass was sore, so either Wallace, Rollie ..., or both of them had been there. I felt like the lowest form of human life and when I made it to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, my fears were confirmed. What little makeup I had left was smeared and there were dark mascara streaks running down my cheeks. My hair was flat and matted and my eyes were tiny, bloodshot, slits.

My over-night case and my evening bag had been put in the entry-way closet by the white-coated waiter, so I didn't have a comb, brush or toothpaste. I washed my face with cold water, finger-combed my hair and rinsed my mouth. I checked my body for love bites but, thank god, there were none.

I gathered my clothes from the piles of garments on the floor and as quickly and quietly as possible, got dressed. Wallace and Rollie were still asleep on the bed and if it weren't so tragic, the scene would have been comical. Wallace lying on his back with his semi erect penis sticking up and Rollie, laying on his side with his knees bent and his ass sticking out. I briefly wondered what had happened to Lani, since she was no longer in the room.

The sun was nearly fully up when I snuck into the living room. The scene was surreal. There were four or five naked bodies scattered about, all asleep. The porno queen was on one of the oversized sofas, lying on her side, her huge silicon tits sticking straight out, defying the laws of gravity. Her sleeping head rested on the thigh of an older guy, whose flaccid, penis rested, just inches from her lips. A young, girl who I had noticed earlier in the evening and couldn't have been more than twenty, was asleep on her back with two men lying on either side of her.

There were empty bottles and glasses on almost every flat surface. The place had the appearance of a Roman orgy, sans, togas and floral, head wreaths. As I surveyed the debauchery around me, I heard sounds in the kitchen. I dreaded the thought of having to look at anyone or have them see me in my condition, but the only way to the entrance was to pass by the kitchen.

No such luck. As I passed by the kitchen, attempting to maintain as much dignity, as my disheveled appearance would allow, I heard, "Good morning, Ms. Kenton. Are you leaving so early? Mr Dursten is having us prepare a very nice buffet breakfast."

It was the waiter, of course, and he was being assisted by the pretty waitress of the previous evening. Now, however, he was dressed in a pair of, tight, white running shorts and his snug, black tee shirt outlined a muscular physique, previously hidden by a dinner jacket. The girl..., young woman, proffered a quick, knowing smile, before continuing with what she was doing. No longer attired in her frilly service outfit, her hair was tied into a pony tail and she was wearing a loose, low cut, nylon blouse, tied in the front, exposing her slim midriff and ample cleavage. A pair of short, shorts and wedged sandals, completed her ensemble.

By the looks of their blood shot eyes and slightly haggard appearance, I assumed that they had, at least, taken advantage of the copious amounts of cocaine available, and, possibly, the rampant depravity.

The pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee was prevalent but when he offered to pour me a cup, I politely declined, wanting, only, to make my escape. However, I was grateful when he offered me a take-out cup, for my trip. My mouth was dry and tasted like sex, so I thankfully, accepted.

"Just milk, no sugar." I responded, when he asked how I liked my coffee.

The formalities of the evening being over, he introduced himself as "Dirk" and his companion, as Greta, while busying himself with the coffee container. Even feeling like the whore, I was, I stammered, "Gwen".

"What the hell, I thought, he already knows my last name, so what's the difference."

As I accepted the steaming cup, he said, "come this way and I'll get your things. After a pause, he added there's a bathroom right over here, he said, gesturing to his left, in case you would like to freshen up, before you leave." I mumbled a "no thanks" and he retrieved my belongings from a shelf in the closet. There was a small manila envelope under my clutch, which he also handed to me, without comment.

Well, my humiliation was complete. I had just been handed my "fee" by the hired help.

It was just before nine in the morning when I dragged myself through the kitchen door, leading from the garage. I couldn't bear to look at myself in the mirror before stepping into the shower. As I washed myself for the second time, I was reminded, how just six weeks ago ..., or was it seven, I would be showering at this same time, in anticipation of our family attending church services. Now, I doubted that I would ever have the audacity to step into a church, ever again.

As I was toweling myself, snippets of memory started to surface in my consciousness, flashes of images, sporadically peeking through the fog of my, drug induced, cocktails. One such image was of Lani on her hands and knees, next to me, moaning in delight as either Wallace or Rollie was, vigorously, fucking her from behind ..., or was it her 'behind' that he was thrusting into. The continued tenderness of my own rectum reminded me that my own ass had been the object of someone's' affection. But, for the life of me, I couldn't remember who or when.

Despite the need to sit and cry for the woman who used to be Gwendolyn Kenton, I was still, semi-catatonic. Absentmindedly, I made coffee and toasted an English muffin. As I ate and drank without really tasting I stared at the refrigerator and noticed the souvenir magnets that adorned it. Little plastic and ceramic mementos of innocent and happy times, that now seemed like ages ago.

Richie had called around eight o'clock the previous evening after having eaten dinner at a local restaurant, as I was putting the finishing touches on my "slut" outfit. I remember being anxious to get off the phone. Maybe, it was because of my excitement and anticipation of Rollie's party, or maybe, it was because of my guilt of, yet another, deception.

For the most part, our conversation had been upbeat. Rich was nervous ..., but yet, excited about Monday's interview. He told me how he had driven through some of the areas near the office and how lovely some of the neighborhoods were, some even bordering on luxurious. He told me that he missed me and loved me and that this opportunity could be the chance for us to put the past behind us and to start fresh. "An exciting, new beginning", he called it.

He asked what I was doing and for the umpteenth time I lied:

"I've had a headache that I can't seem to shake, so after I tuck Denise in, I'm going to take some aspirin and turn in, myself."

We ended with some mutual terms of endearment and a half hour later I was on my way to what would become the final insult to my own life.

It was, now almost 10AM and I decided to check my phone for any messages. There was only one and it came in at 9:52 the previous evening, just short of two hours after I had spoken to him. His message was sort of rambling but the sincerity and love were genuinely touched my soul:

"Hi Honey. Thought I'd catch you before you went to sleep...hope I didn't wake you. Well, I guess I didn't since you didn't answer. Just wanted to tell you again how much I love you. I know I haven't been the pleasantest of people to be around lately and I've taken ..., taken our circumstances out on you. I know that this has been hard on ..., this hasn't been easy on either of us."

"I just want you to know that I have a very good feeling about this job and if things go our way we'll be able to get a fresh start. We'll put this episode behind us and move on..., you, me and Denise."

There was a short pause before he continued, reluctantly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that no matter what happens tomorrow..., as long as we're together as a family, I just want us to be together ..., even if it is in a cardboard box, under an overpass."

I could hear the tears in his voice as he disconnected. After over twenty years, I know my husband very well and although he would occasionally drink a couple of beers or a glass of wine, since all of this started he had been using alcohol to deaden the pain. So, I wasn't surprised that his words were slightly slurred.

I immediately began to sob. "Could I ever go back to being the wife he knew? How utterly destroyed he would be if he had seen the wanton slut I had become last night, snorting cocaine, enjoying lesbian sex and having sex with two men ..., god knows, how many times.

I couldn't even remember how many times they had fucked me or if I had sucked one or both of them. For all I knew, there could have even been more than the two I woke up with. With too many questions and very few answers, I fell into a fitful sleep.

When I awoke, around noon, and after pushing the fog out of my brain, I remembered that I had a ten-year-old child who was waiting for me ..., a child who needed her mommy. Even though I had taken two showers only a few hours ago, I still felt dirty, so before I got dressed I took another scalding shower. When I got out of the shower my body was as clean as it could be but my soul still felt dirty.

I dressed quickly and seeing my "whore clothes" on the floor I put them in a plastic bag with the intention of dropping them in a donation bin. However, as I thought of it, even though they would be cleaned, they were too soiled with sin to foist on an innocent person. "Besides, I thought, who would wear them other than a whore."

When I went downstairs to fetch my purse from the kitchen, I saw the manila envelope which I had, absentmindedly, thrown on the table. If there had been any lingering doubt as to how I would proceed with my miserable life, it was answered when I opened it.

Along with fifty, one hundred-dollar bills ————, there was a note:

"It was worth every penny. Have a good life."

"Well, I thought, Rollie achieved his goal. He humiliated the man that he thought had stolen his girl and reeked upon her, total degradation."

He was wrong. I may not ever forget the depth of depravity that I had stooped to but I would not allow his psychotic endeavor to succeed..., even if I had to live in that cardboard box.