Almost two hours after the game ended, with about half of the men having already left and most of the cleanup taken care of, Olivia announced her intention to leave.
"Do you want me to stay and keep you company, Madison?" Jody asked.
"I am fine," my girlfriend responded. "I am comfortable with these guys. You can go ahead and leave too."
The two younger women left shortly after that brief exchange, each of them skipping happily out of my front door clutching approximately twenty one thousand dollars in cash, the sum total of their ten grand "appearance fee," and their share of the football pool winnings that was blown on sexual favors.
The alcohol had done its job, lowered the inhibitions and heightened the level of arousal in the room. A few moments later, sensing that the party was over, three other guys drifted away from my place. A cursory glance at the security camera revealed Baldwin, Clarkson, two other guys that had kept a fairly low provide, and the recently divorced Arts Center benefactor, were still in attendance.
Once the two younger women had left, it seemed to me as if Madison had exercised very poor judgement by remaining alone with five men, who were presumably liquored up. It was fairly obvious from the touchy-feely nature of the group, and the prominent erections visible in most of their pants, that they were ready for a crack at Madison. The subject of additional payment never even came up, but I think that the guys felt that she was obligated to get everybody off one more time, particularly as they all knew that so much money had already exchanged hands. As they groped and fondled her, telegraphing their intentions, she seemed resigned to accept her fate.
This resignation quickly turned to enthusiasm as Baldwin tossed a stack of hundred dollar bills onto the top of my piano.
"There's a ten grand bonus for you, sweetheart," he said condescendingly. "Why don't you dress up in something sexy, and take care of me and the boys?"
"Let's adjourn to the master bedroom," Madison suggested coyly, to an appreciative murmur of approval from the five guys.
The fact that Madison had asked the party to adjourn to our master bedroom confirmed that her sense of right and wrong was about to be overridden by the prospect of ten grand in cash. The guys followed her into my bedroom, and Baldwin spoke first, assuming control of the situation.
"Where do you keep your sexiest lingerie?" he asked her, "I want to see you in something cute and silky."
"How about that mint-green ensemble I tit-fucked you in?" Clarkson added. "You looked cute wearing that."
The men descended on her wardrobe, trying to reach a consensus of what they wanted her to wear to service them. After a couple of minutes of snooping through her intimates, during which most of the guys held up something cute for the group approval, Clarkson emerged with an unopened gift package. Contained within the signature silver box, with LaPerla stenciled in black writing on the front, it was packaging that every man in the room could instantly recognize. It was finished off with a pink bow and there was a card attached to the front of the box.
"Somebody has been a very good girl," Clarkson said condescendingly. "Good enough to get a gift. A very expensive gift by the look of things. Open it up Madison," he added assertively.
My heart sank as he handed Madison the box, and she began to open the card. Super Bowl Sunday is the first Sunday of February, and as such, always precedes Valentine's Day. After my conversation with my uncle about the importance of intimacy in a relationship, and the role that lingerie can play if treated as a private, and personal gift between two lovers, I had gone to LaPerla and purchased Madison a Valentine's gift. It was a beautiful silk and lace chemise in an exquisite shade of baby blue, to match her eyes. I really took my time with my selection, browsing through dozens of different pieces before finally selecting the one that I felt would look the best on her. The sales clerk had wrapped it beautifully, scented it using Madison's signature fragrance, and attached my card to the front of the box.
When I got home I hid it in the back of her closet, thus ensuring that it wouldn't get opened until Valentine's Day. I could barely watch the scene unfurl, as Clarkson grabbed the card from Madison's hands, and began to read it aloud.
"To my beautiful girlfriend," Clarkson began, as the other guys listened with mock interest. "Can't wait to enjoy a night with you wearing this, love Pete."
"Open it," Clarkson ordered. "We are going to have us an early Valentine's Day celebration."
I could see the reticence on Madison's face to open the beautifully packaged gift, and when her trembling hands were moving too slowly for their liking, the guys took the package from her and tore it apart like a pride of hungry lions.
Baldwin emerged with the prize, holding it up against her naked form as if to imagine her in it. It was exquisite, a mid-length chemise fabricated of the finest silk and lace, in the most beautiful shade of baby blue, to complement Madison's eyes.
"Put it on, Madison," Baldwin instructed her. "We want to see you all dolled up in your boyfriend's special Valentine's gift."