Chapter 2A

When they got to the hotel, Brad was surprised at its unthreatening exterior and air of normality. Subconsciously, he'd expected erotically dressed parade marchers, strobe lights, and crowds of semi-naked partygoers copulating in the parking lot.

From outside, the hotel was no different than any other three or four-star hotel in the metroplex. There were no naked people fucking, no bands playing... nothing.

He and Ashley wrestled their luggage out of the trunk. Ashley took a moment to check hers, remembering she'd packed two small bottles of the most expensive perfume she could afford. She wanted to make sure Brad's violent maneuvers on the road hadn't broken them.

They proved to be undamaged, but the verification coaxed another apology from Brad. It was what he thought she wanted, but it appeared to irritate her. He didn't know why.

Perhaps because of her annoyance, she looked around more than she normally did... so she could ignore him? It was strange. To Brad, she seemed to be aware of everyone they passed in route to the entrance... she looked closely into each man or woman's face.

They looked back too. All of them seemed to mark her in their memory. There was a promise in all their eyes. Brad's discomfort increased with each step as they made their way into the hotel.

The clerk at the check-in desk found their reservation without difficulty. He looked closely at the annotations in the remarks field. Their reservation had been upgraded, he told them, compliments of the manager. The slender young man in a jacket whose color almost matched the hotel's décor wet his lips and hesitated before leaning close and making sure Brad and Ashley understood. The entire hotel, except for a small block of rooms that had been left out by mistake, was reserved by an association promoting, and practicing, sex... outside the marriage, as he put it delicately.

Ashley answered for them both. Her sharp reply sent the young man to the opposite end of the counter to silently rip the reservation off the printer.

"ASHLEY... HONEY!" The shrill voice behind Brad and Ashley startled them both. They turned quickly to find an older couple standing just behind them. Their attention was all upon Ashley; their welcoming arms were for her.

"Ann... Floyd!" Ashley trilled. "Ohmigod!"

The trio swept together, their arms around each other. Ashley accepted kisses from both "Ann" and then "Floyd." Brad's eyes narrowed perceptibly. Kisses were routine in greeting old friends, deep kisses where tongues dueled with each other were not. He stood back as his wife and the two others moved about in a tight clinch, almost bumping him out of the way. When his back touched the counter behind him, he could retreat no further.

"Sir... ?" Brad turned to find the counter clerk offering him a pen and the just-printed agreement. "Can you sign on the highlighted line, please, sir?" he asked Brad politely. Brad nodded and bent to his assigned task. Brad accepted the two plastic cards the clerk offered him in a nice envelope.

"The stairs are right over there," the clerk said and pointed.

Brad turned around to see his wife and the old couple skirting a bank of elevators and walking down a hallway beyond.

"Ash?" he called quietly. "Ashley..."

She apparently couldn't hear him over the bustle in the lobby. She didn't pause even an instant and certainly didn't turn around to rejoin him and their luggage. Her purse was still on the counter.

Brad grabbed his wife's purse and started after his wife. Red-faced and embarrassed, he increased his speed when the three ahead far ahead of him turned down a side passageway. When he turned the corner, he stopped in shock. Both of the oldsters were stroking his wife's back as they walked down the hall. They were all chattering happily. He couldn't make out the words; he was too far behind them.

An instant later, the older man settled his hand on Ashley's ass and industriously kneaded her right butt cheek for a long moment. Brad was astounded to see the older woman follow suit. They both fondled Ashley for several steps, stopping when they got to a set of wide double doors. Turning inside, they let the heavy doors slam shut behind them. Ashley hadn't protested any of their caresses.

Just before the door closed, Brad saw a stout, middle-aged woman in there undo her wrap-around top to allow the ends to hang down either side of her rotund body. Brad's last sight of the woman was of her lifting her breasts in both hands and offering them to someone just inside the door.

Brad didn't know what to do. He pushed himself into a fast walk down to the closed doors. He was soon jogging along the hallway, his heavy footfalls echoing down the corridor. He was in a panic and didn't know why.

The only thing that got through the fog in his mind was that this was all wrong. Ashley should be out here with him, not with those old people... and their groping hands. He didn't know where his wife was going, but...

When he got there, the door was locked tight. He heard loud music playing in there somewhere. He shook the handle with increasing force... but the door was too solid. It didn't give an inch. He knocked on it, trying to get someone's attention on the other side. He needed to talk to his wife. This wasn't fair. He hadn't done anything to deserve this. She'd promised, dammit!

Pounding on the door with heavy fists gained him nothing but a series of contemptuous looks from hotel employees and a couple of people passing through this wing of the hotel. They were on their way somewhere safe. He wished he could go with them. He wished he had someplace safe to go.

There was no answer; the music continued to play as loudly as it had when he first tried to open the doors. He was locked out, and his wife had barricaded herself inside... away from him.

Dazed and uncertain, Brad turned away from the door and walked slowly back out to the front desk. Brad couldn't look the young clerk in the eyes when he picked up the envelope with the keys in it. He stood for a moment, not really understanding when the clerk offered the services of a bellhop to carry the luggage up.

Brad finally nodded and watched the uniformed man load his and Ashley's bags on a fancy cart. Brad carried his wife's purse, though the bellhop courteously offered to take it with the suitcases. They walked to the elevators and went up to the sixth floor.

From the opened door of the elevator, there were only a mercifully few steps to the room. Brad thanked the bellhop in a distracted way, tipped him too much so he'd go away quicker, and closed the door behind the guy. He stumbled into the bathroom and bent over to lean his head on crossed forearms on the vanity between the two sinks.

Without warning, he was sick and vomited a thin stream of disgusting fluid into the right hand sink. A second surge surprised him worse than the initial one. He almost let it dribble down his best dress shirt and pants. He couldn't allow that. He desperately fought for control.

When he was sure the attack was over, he washed the mess down the drain. There was soon no sign of his weakness. He was glad of that. There was no evidence here of this disgrace anyway. No one would know except him.

He looked around the room and sat on the edge of the big king-sized bed. Right now, Ashley should be over by the dresser, unpacking the luggage they'd bought for this trip. Instead, she was having a party down in that room... probably with that ugly old couple she'd let play with her ass... but he knew there would be men in there too. Lots of them, probably hung like horses and...

Brad stood up, staring wildly around the room. He would not stay here, waiting like a dutiful cuckold for his wife to come home. He would not!

He made sure his wife's keys were in her purse; he saw her cell phone there too. He couldn't even call the woman he'd married just one year ago. Well... so be it.

Heck, he'd had his doubts this marriage was going to last anyway. Some things weren't meant to be. Before he left the room, he tossed both entry cards onto the table beside her purse.