Cocktail Party

Janice is angry with her husband’s dismissive, downright superior attitude about her career — writing erotic romances. His work, of course, is serious. It is a growing bone of contention between them. He doesn't even want her to tell people what she does.

When she reluctantly goes with him to party at his boss's house, she finds herself the center of attention of several hot young men. With her husband working the room, she lets them sweep her into her first gangbang.

After all, it's research for a new book.

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

As she got dressed to go to the party, Janice suddenly recalled some words of advice that her mother had given her when she got married — never go out together when you are fighting.

Although it was sensible advice and it came from experience, here she was, dressing to go to a party with Conrad when he'd made her so angry that she didn't trust herself to speak to him.

Part of the reason for going was that Conrad insisted on it. According to him, it was important. Of course, everything he wanted was important. And tonight, he was particularly adamant. The party wasn’t a social affair, but a command performance at his boss's house. The company had invited a number of important (Conrad’s favorite word these days) people; going to this party, socializing with them, making nice, even having her flirt with potential clients, could mean new contacts and new business.

All of those things were crucial to him, to his future, and thereby to her. “We have to show a united front,” he said. “We need to appear to be a happy couple.” According to his creed, it wasn't a matter of what he wanted, or she wanted, but about things that were important to them both.

Of course, that was exactly what they’d fought about. Why did he get to decide what was important? Why was he the one who knew how things had to be? It got him upset when she demanded to know why his career was necessarily more important than anything she might want. She hadn't married him to become a trophy wife. She worked too, and her work was important to her, even if she didn't earn as much as he did.

“You do your work, if you can call it that, from home.” That's what he said, and the words burned. He never let her forget what he thought of someone whose work (and she DID call it that) was writing fiction. Even worse, in his book, was that she wrote erotic romance.

“It's just trashy fiction,” he called it. Not that Conrad read any kind of fiction or much of anything, but he absolutely sneered at the idea of erotica and romance. And that was without her mentioning that her best-selling books were pure and delicious smut. She enjoyed writing them, and happily, her agent wanted more of them… and wanted her to make them even dirtier.

As a result, from his perspective, he had a career, and she had a hobby. His career demanded they go to this party, never mind what she wanted.

She was willing to admit that he worked at these parties. They were for and about business. He'd have a single drink during the entire evening. That took discipline — far more than she’d ever pretend to have. And his shift began when he walked in the door.

When they arrived, he'd want her to walk the parade circuit, as she called it, with him, and circulate through the room. Then he'd send her off and ignore her the rest of the evening while he focused on one or two people — his all-important contacts.

Conrad seldom attempted to make her feel important in the least. That stung. As angry as she was, if she hadn’t promised Fran, Janice doubted she would be going to the party no matter what Conrad said. But she had. Fran was the boss's wife and the hostess of the party. She barely knew the woman, and the call had surprised and intrigued her.