He'd been tricked, coerced, raped.
He had never cheated on Ginny before, had never even considered it, but he was cheating now and it was too late to turn back and what difference did it make if he finished? The damage had been done.
Besides, there was no way she'd ever know.
The woman's lips slid to the bottom of his penis, taking in all of him, and he came in her mouth, an explosion that never seemed to stop. She did not pull away as Ginny so often did, did not gag and spit out his semen, but continued to hold him between her tightly closed lips, waiting until he had completely finished before licking the final drop off the tip with her expert tongue.
He lay there for a moment panting, trying to catch his breath. He wondered which of the massage women had been sent to reward him, and he wanted to turn on the light, but then she was squatting over his face, obviously expecting him to reciprocate. He could feel the wiriness of her pubic hair against his face, could feel the soft flesh of her sex against his mouth, could smell the muskiness of her arousal in his nose, and he began licking her, his tongue working between her vaginal lips and into her ready opening.
She was quiet, did not moan, and though he usually liked to hear a verbal reaction to lovemaking, there was something sexy about the silence. It allowed him to hear the noises of their bodies more clearly, the harsh raggedness of their breathing, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping between her legs.
She took him in her mouth again and miraculously breathed life back into him. Soon he was hard once again, and she moved off his face and straddled him, taking him deep within her, moving carefully up and down in such a way that he could not even feel the weight of her body atop him. He grabbed her buttocks to help, and then he was coming again, the soft muscular walls of her vagina contracting and expanding, contracting and expanding, pumping out every last drop until his penis was sore and spent.
She rolled over next to him, held him close, hugged him, and he hugged her back, tears silently escaping from his eyes and rolling down the side of his face as the enormity of what he had done sunk in, thinking in the darkness, _Ginny Ginny Ginny_ . . .
The woman was gone when he awoke the next morning, and a moment later the phone rang, an old lady's voice informing him that there would be no breakfast today, that he was to get dressed immediately and then report to Newman King.
The walk-in closet was empty save for the black leather suit he had worn yesterday to the simulation, and he put it on and walked out of the suite. A blond man in an almost identical uniform was waiting for him in the hall, and he was led over to the elevator and back up to the top of the Tower, back to the boardroom. King was alone this time, there were no other men seated around the table, and the guard who had escorted him this far moved back into the elevator.
The doors closed, and for the first time he was alone with Newman King.
Even after all that had happened, even after all he'd been through, the physical presence of the CEO still seemed frightening. There was nothing rational, logical, or intellectual about it. This was animal fear, pure and instinctual, and with every fiber of his being he wanted to recall that elevator and run out of this room as quickly as possible, but he maintained a calm exterior and stood unmoving as King walked slowly toward him.
As always, the mouth was smiling, but there was a dark wildness in the eyes. King reached him, stood before him, grinned. "Congratulations. You are our top managerial graduate this year. It's time to celebrate your accomplishment."
He made a wide sweep with his hand, taking in the map on the wall. "You can have a Store anywhere you want!" he said. "Pick a spot!"
"Juniper," Bill said. His voice sounded weak, uncertain.
The CEO laughed heartily. "Where else? Ordinarily, when we have a new manager, we move the entire family and have them set up in their new home by the time the manager's training is completed. But this time, we had an opening at the Juniper outlet, and since you'd already indicated that that was where you preferred to be assigned, I gave it to you."
He beamed broadly, and Bill had to look away from his pale, creepy face.
Again, as if pulled out of thin air, there was a sheaf of documents in King's hand, and he laid out a series of pages on the table in front of him.
"How did you enjoy your little celebration last night?" he asked. He raised his eyebrows conspiratorily.
Bill felt sick.
"Don't worry. These little perks are only for managers and we don't like to let anyone else know about them." He chuckled, nudged Bill with an elbow. "I
won't tell if you won't, eh?"
Bill nodded.
King withdrew a pen from somewhere and handed it to him. "Now if you'll just sign these contracts, we'll be all set."
Bill wanted to read each document before signing, but he felt uncomfortable being alone with King, being this close to him, and after giving each page a cursory glance to make sure there was nothing obviously tricky or unusual there, he scrawled his signature on the appropriate lines and handed the pages to the CEO.
King clapped him on the back. "You're one of us!" he said. "You're now part of The Store!"
The elevator door opened, and a group of business-suited yes-men, wearing happy smiles and party hats, streamed into the boardroom and congratulated Bill, shaking his hand and patting him on the back before taking their places around the table. The elevator doors opened again, and a phalanx of bikini-clad women pushed steaming food carts into the room.
King beamed. "Breakfast time!" he announced. "Eat up! We have a full day ahead of us!"
He held up a glass of orange juice. "A toast to Bill Davis, our newest Store manager!"
An hour later, they were in the black jet, on their way back to Phoenix.
He and King and an entourage of the yes-men. King chatted amiably on the two hour flight, talking of the future, expansion, the day when any city he flew over, anywhere in the country, would be home to The Store. He sat gracefully on an elegantly designed chair, dressed impeccably, but he looked as though he was trying to be something he wasn't, and his strange features and unnatural skin seemed even more obvious and noticeable against the mundane background of the airplane interior.
It was a monologue, not a dialogue, and for the most part Bill listened without speaking. He found himself rerunning the events of last night over and over again in his mind. How could he possibly face Ginny after what he had done?
He had failed her; he had betrayed her. He'd been corrupted by The Store. He had gone to Dallas to fight it and had become part of it. He had been contaminated and infected and he'd defected to the enemy.
No, that wasn't true. He had the opportunity now to do a lot of good for Juniper. He could reverse the damage that had been done to the town, could implement new policies, could overturn the destructive, divisive decisions that had left the community in the state that it was today. He was working within the system now instead of outside it, and that would enable him to accomplish a hell of a lot more than he would otherwise be able to do. He had made the right decision. He had not sold out.
But he had still betrayed Ginny.
No rationalization that he was working for the greater good could ever excuse that.
The end did not justify the means.
He thought of her lying in bed, alone, asleep, waiting for him, praying that he returned safely, blindly trusting him.
What would he say to her? What could he do to make it up to her? How would he ever deserve her again?
He realized that he was crying only when King leaned over and whispered, "Knock it off. You're acting like a pussy."