Chapter 5, In which I am not a slut

I was feeling tired and hung over, the result of a sleepless night with a lot of drinking and even more sex. I couldn’t exactly bring myself to regret any of it, but it was disconcerting to realize I’d slept with more people in the last 12 hours than in all of my life prior to that point.

A smile crossed my face as I thought about Jenny, the last of those partners, and then disappeared as I pondered the situation in which I found myself. I’d bewitched Jenny — binding her affections to me with a bit of magic I’d learned from my girlfriend, Stacey.

Objectively, it was wrong to have done it, but I hadn’t precisely intended her to be a sexual partner when I’d started. Having seen, up close, how much Jenny enjoyed being with me, I couldn’t regret it, but the thought that she’d lost her job because of me burned in my stomach — and it wasn’t the good kind of burn we’d shared that morning. It had only been a waitressing job, but she’d depended on it and now it was gone because of something I’d done. I felt really bad about it.

I felt even worse about cheating on Stacey. She was my first lesbian experience, my dearest love, and I was sleeping around on her before we’d even known each other a month. It wasn’t just the physical sex — we’d never said we were exclusive, and she knew I let Michael fuck me. I wasn’t a slut or anything. It was the emotional betrayal.

We were so compatible — she loved to have me worship her beautiful pussy as much as I loved to be there between her legs — that I’d never imagined it could be any better. But, somehow, with Jenny, it was. Maybe it was that we liked all the same things: eating out girls, doing anal, group sex. Maybe it was being able both to give and to receive. Whatever the case, I knew Jenny wasn’t going to be just a one-night stand.

I thought again about calling Stacey, but she rarely rose before lunchtime and I still didn’t know what I’d tell her. Instead, I checked the time and took a last look at myself in the rear view mirror. My makeup looked nice and professional, and I applied a last touchup with the glossy red lipstick where I’d been chewing my lip while I’d been thinking.

Climbing out of the rental car, I mentally crossed my fingers for luck and strode towards the lobby, trying to exude calm confidence. If all went well, I was about to make my employer — and myself — a ton of money. All it took was to a signed agreement to go with the verbal acceptance I’d gotten earlier that morning.

I’d been in this position before, and gotten screwed — figuratively rather than literally. This time, I had two things going for me. First, instead of dealing with my usual contact, Hunter, I’d been negotiating with Hunter’s boss, Big Bill. Second, I’d used Stacey’s magic on Big Bill. It hadn’t worked out quite the way it had with Jenny, but I was confident I could convince him to honor his commitment.

Big Bill had a nicer office than Hunter did, up a floor and definitely in executive territory. He had a better-looking secretary, too, although with Stacey on one shoulder and Jenny on the other, I didn’t spare her a second glace as she walked me in.

“Good morning, Bill,” I cheerily greeted him, crossing the office to shake his hand. I looked inquiringly at the stranger already seated in another of the guest chairs by the desk.

“Mornin’, Linnea. You are a sight for sore eyes,” Big Bill said, raking my body head to toe with a quick look. “Tom, this is Linnea Richwell, the hottest sales executive in Texas. Linnea, meet Tom; he’s our Finance VP.”

“Don’t believe a word this man says,” I laughed to Tom, shaking his hand. I knew I looked hot, but I preferred to let my wardrobe speak for itself. Just the same, I made sure he could see down my blouse when I bent over to set down my attache. “Now, are we ready to do business?”

“Well, I was bringing Tom up to speed on our ‘negotiations’ last night,” Big Bill started off.

I sensed prevarication and started thinking hard about him just signing the damn paperwork, but like last night — and unlike Jenny — he seemed stubbornly resistant to my suggestions.

“…and it seemed the financial aspects were not quite clear,” Bill concluded.

“Now, Bill, that’s just silly,” I said, smiling to take the sting out of my words. I pushed my blouse off the attache so I could retrieve two copies of the agreement.