More Conversations

He's just trying to understand why?

This is another of my "Conversation" type of stories. I don't number them or coordinate them in any way. They stand on their own as individual reads. There are no intertwined characters either.

There is very little sex in this story so if you are looking for that you might want to pass on this one. Nor is it a BTB, so if you are an aficionado of that particular fetish, you should also probably skip this one.

Words matter. I suppose we could argue the validity and merits of that statement until we were all blue in the face, but the truth is undeniable. You could even assert that in today's world, words matter more than actions. That's why I love to write these stories. Enjoy!

Main Characters:

Craig Bryce, age 48 married to Mandy for 23 years. Executive VP of Ops for United Logistics, Inc.

Amanda "Mandie" Bryce, aged 45 Senior Office manager for Kingston Ltd. a Fortune 500 company based in their home town for 20 years.

Torrey Bryce, age 19 only child of Craig and Amanda, freshman in college living in dorm

Corinne Glenwood, age 43 married 20 years, mother of 3 children all living at home.

Tom Glenwood, age 42 married to Corinne.

STORY

Craig Bryce was lying quietly on the bed in his hotel room trying to fall asleep. He had just attempted his nightly phone call to Amanda, his wife of over twenty-three years. He was halfway through another mind-numbing business trip. The older he got, the harder it was for him to be able to separate when one trip concluded and another commenced, never mind their usefulness. It was all just a blur. They were beginning to take their toll. He had spent more than half his life on the road, taking a good deal of time away from almost twenty of his twenty-three year marriage. Craig was most definitely looking forward to retirement. He was hopeful that in six or seven years he and Mandie could enjoy the lifestyle they had been working hard towards their whole life together.

Craig didn't mind the work itself. He enjoyed his job and took great pride in his staff's accomplishments. He liked to tell people that as a divisional vice president he didn't really do much actual work anymore. He just traveled around talking to people who did the work and tried to remove obstacles to their success. This was, of course, to make money for the company.

The fact that he was very well compensated for his efforts had always bemused him to a certain degree. He didn't think he was more intelligent or driven than most, but he had learned a secret long ago. That was far more people were afraid of success than failure. There are many reasons for this fact. But overall, it boiled down to fear. His responsibilities were to simply make people less afraid.

Usually, Craig would immediately fall asleep after his evening phone call with his wife. He found listening to Mandie's voice very soothing. It made sleep come easily. But lately, that hadn't been the case. He found himself reviewing over and over in his mind the niggling thoughts and suspicions. As he lay in bed staring at the ceiling those thoughts were once again racing through his mind.

Craig wasn't a naturally fearful person. But he had grown more concerned over the past several months that Mandie was cheating on him. On the surface, Craig told himself that couldn't be possible. But too many nagging concerns had brought him to the point where he believed he would need to do something to either confirm or disprove his fears.

He certainly didn't have a 'smoking gun,' but it was little things piling up, then one big thing last week. When their daughter Torrey left for college last fall, Mandie had become very quiet and depressed. Craig thought this was just the normal 'empty nest syndrome' parents often felt when their children left home. After all, though he would never admit it, he was depressed when Torrey left home too. When he talked with Mandie about it she agreed that she was very saddened by their daughter's exit from their everyday lives. It left a big hole in her world.

Mandie's depression was getting worse. It even got to the point that her supervisor at Kingston Ltd. had to sit her down to discuss her deteriorating job performance. It didn't seem to help her much.

Then about four months ago, it was almost as if she had flicked a light switch. His wife was back. She was happy, playful, and her job performance recovered. Even their sex life had picked back up. Mandie, who had always been rather conservative in bed, suddenly became very aggressive and wanted to experiment.

Craig was a man, so he was naturally overjoyed with her changes. He wasn't going to complain about the return of their honeymoon phase. He teased her about it good- naturedly. She told him she just wanted to make sure that she was taking care of the most important person in her life. They started taking weekend trips together two to three times a month and they both enjoyed this time immensely.

She also had started to dress better. It wasn't provocative at all, just more professional. As an office manager for a large national company image was important. So again, in and of itself, her manner of dress didn't mean much.

It was another change in her associated with work that really raised his concern level. Mandie was always proud of the work she did, and she loved to talk about all aspects of it with Craig, but then she stopped cold at about the same time their sex life picked back up. She hadn't so much as mentioned work to him over the past several months. That was other than to tell him that she would be working late more often because of a new project her company had acquired.

Next came the missed phone calls and other inconsistencies. For example, Craig got home early from a trip a month ago and decided to go to her office to see if she could go to lunch. Her assistant apologized to him telling him that he had just missed her as she had left with coworkers a few minutes earlier. He had an odd, uncomfortable feeling the entire time he was in the building.

Somehow Mandie's assistant Jennifer seemed more formal in addressing him and had trouble making eye contact. He had known Jennifer for years and she had always called him Craig, but that day it was Mr. Bryce. Craig almost said something but decided against it. As he was leaving Mandie's office building, he could have sworn several people were staring at him. Craig checked his fly to make sure that it wasn't opened. Maybe he was just getting paranoid in his old age.

That night at home he asked her about her day and all she said was that she had so much work she never left her desk. Interesting.

He also noticed that she would change her clothes and shower at odd times. He realized she only did that on her long workdays. Maybe she always did this, but he never took notice before? It really wouldn't be that unusual to want to take a shower as soon as you got home from a twelve-hour workday, would it?

Then last week it came to a head for him. They both had arrived home late from work and were too tired to cook, so they decided to send out for Szechwan instead. Amanda's phone was nearest to him so he picked it up to call for the delivery and he realized that it was locked. After twenty years she needed a password? He asked her about it and she laughed nervously. She gave him the code and he made the call. At the dinner table, she volunteered that the "guys" at work told her she should have her phone password protected because of all the work-related data on it. Craig agreed that was a good idea and didn't think much more about it at the time.

A couple of nights later when she was asleep, and he was sure she was in a deep sleep, because she snored. Mandie always denied it by saying ladies didn't snore, they just breathed deeper. So anyway, when she was breathing deeply, he got up, picked up her phone, and entered her passcode. She had changed it. She changed her passcode within two days after she gave it to him. Seriously?

Craig was very proud that in over twenty years of business travel, he had never been unfaithful to his wife. He had never come close to cheating. It wasn't by accident. Early in their marriage, Amanda had been very jealous. When Craig traveled, he knew how worried she was. He made it a point to call her every evening he was gone to try and soothe those fears.

As the years passed, she became more comfortable with his travel. But Craig still always made it a personal policy to never put himself into risky situations. Sometimes there was dinner and/or drinks with workgroups or customers. But Craig always made sure he was the first to leave. If the group was going to a club, he passed.

When he was alone, it was his habit when returning to the hotel after work to stop for one quick drink in the usually empty hotel bar then head to his room where he would order room service and read a book or catch up on work. Then he would make his call home.

Then there was the masturbation. Craig even told Mandie about doing it years ago when she was having a hard time with him being gone. He was trying to alleviate her concerns. It became a running joke with them. Mandie would remind him not to 'jerk off,' as she referred to it, on the night before he was due home. She wanted him to be able to do his 'duty' upon his return.

He didn't care if anyone thought he was anti-social or a nerd. He wasn't going to allow himself to get into a precarious situation that would cause concern for or elevate her predisposition for jealousy.

Part of Craig was embarrassed that he was even having these doubts. But, again that night, his call to the home phone went to the message system. When he called her cell phone, he got her voicemail. He sighed and disconnected without leaving a message. If this followed a familiar pattern that was becoming all too frequent, he would get one of several excuses.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry I fell asleep early. When I woke up, it was too late to call you, what with the time differences and all." Or, "I was in the basement doing laundry." Then there was his favorite. "I was working late and lost track of the time. I'm so sorry." At least he hadn't gotten the ubiquitous, "Oh, I went out for drinks with the 'gang' from work" excuse, yet.

He felt terrible that he had lost trust in her. He knew that a marriage without trust was in serious trouble. So, as he lay there with his hands behind his head staring at the ceiling, pondering what to do, noises coming from the room directly above caught his attention.

Oh great he thought, the hotel isn't even half full, and he was going to have someone

above him being a nuisance all night.

Such were the perils of business travel and he gave a deep sigh, closed his eyes and tried unsuccessfully to block the noise out and fall sleep.

As he was lying in bed, he heard a woman in the room where the noise was emanating from start to moan. The moans escalated into "Oh my god" and "Yes, yes, yes" type exclamations. He could hear the bed creaking and the thumping of the headboard hitting against the wall. He began to masturbate to the sounds, thinking it was better than the usual porn he watched on trips. He always thought of his wife while masturbating, no matter how kinky his fantasies were. He always told Mandie about all his fantasies, and that they involved her. She thought that was so sweet. He always left out the part where his fantasies involved them together in bed with a couple of her friends. He was a man after all, and everyone has secrets right?

The love-making above him went on for hours. Hell, that wasn't making love, it was raw animal sex. Pretty good porn too.

There's no way that's a married couple up there, he laughed to himself

There were no terms of endearment, but lots of 'fuck me harder's', 'you love this don't you bitch,' and other exhortations you would expect from a porn movie. He was dozing on and off throughout the night. He finally heard someone leave about four in the morning. A hotel room door closing in the dead of night makes an unmistakable sound that everyone in the place could hear. He was exhausted after the sexual gymnastics, well that and plus the three times he had jerked off while listening. He thankfully managed to fall asleep for a few hours anyway.

His alarm woke him as scheduled. Craig was not at all well-rested. But he was the boss, he didn't think it would be appropriate for him to call and tell everyone he was meeting that he was going to be late because he was masturbating all night. So he sucked it up, got up, and made ready for the day.

As he was shaving in the bathroom, he could hear someone moving around in that same room above doing their morning routine. He made a mental note to never stay in this hotel again. The walls were just too damn thin!

Out of a lecherous curiosity, he tried to time his exit so he could meet whoever was in the hall or on the elevator. He heard the door above him slam closed. He knew his quarry was a woman because he could clearly hear the staccato sound of her heels clicking on the floor in concert with his, as she approached the elevator from above.

As Craig got to the elevator, he paused for a moment before hitting the call button. He heard the whoosh of the lift as it rose past him. It stopped on the floor above. He quickly punched the call button and waited. Fortunately, the elevator immediately began to descend, and it stopped at his floor.

When he entered, there was only one person on board. He had lucked out. "Good morning," he offered. The woman who stood before him was about his age. There wasn't anything particularly striking about her physical appearance. Frankly, she looked like every other businesswoman he frequently encountered. She was tallish. In her heels, she almost reached his six feet. She was large. He guessed her to be about around one fifty or so well proportioned pounds. Craig liked big women.

She was smartly dressed in traditional business attire. She wore a dark jacket with a white blouse revealing an acceptable amount of cleavage in a work environment. The woman had the almost mandatory simple strand of pearls around her neck. She wore a pencil-style skirt, cut just above the knees and hose. Craig idly wondered if they were thigh highs or pantyhose. He preferred thigh highs. His wife frequently indulged his fantasy in that area.

The woman's brunet hair was pulled back tightly in a bun; she was wearing dark-rimmed glasses that made her hazel eyes seem larger. Craig always found a woman in glasses very sexy. He kept after Mandie to get her eyes checked in the hopes that one day, she would need them. So far, no luck. He definitely had the Sarah Palin fetish going on.

Craig couldn't help himself. As the elevator began its descent to the lobby only a few floors below; He got a friendly smirk on his face as he spoke. "Good morning. You look tired."

She replied back with her own smirk, "I had a rough night."

"Yeah, I heard."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be, you saved me nine dollars on my hotel bill, and it was better than any movie they offered."

"I'll try to bet quieter tonight." She said laughingly.

"Please don't be on my account; I could save another nine bucks." And they laughed together as the elevator made it to the lobby. They exited, said their 'have a good days,' and went on about their business. Craig had a busy day so all thoughts of his encounter with the intriguing lady slipped away. Fortunately, he didn't have time to worry about Mandie either.

All in all, Craig had a very productive day. He was tired but satisfied with his work when he returned to the hotel around six that evening. He decided to stop in the lobby bar for his usual scotch before heading to his room.

He walked straight to the bar even though his preference was to sit in a booth in the back. He was fairly certain that on a quiet weeknight like tonight, there wouldn't be a barmaid working the tables. The place was mostly empty anyway. The only sound was that of the wheels on the garden-variety rollaboard or spinner luggage handled by virtually one hundred percent of the traveling business population, rolling across the tile floor of the lobby as their owners came and went, seemingly endlessly.

It was almost a game with the hoards of business travelers to see how large a bag they could roll around and then stuff into an overhead bin for the flight home. Craig went against the grain. He always checked his bag. Yes, it cost him a few minutes, but it saved a lot of angst and kept his blood pressure under control. Plus he always enjoyed the show on board as another lemming tried hammering their bag into the tight space while the flight attendant rolled her eyes, knowing full well that bag was headed for the in-flight cargo hold. That was always the last one to be unloaded.

Hey when you're a business traveler or one who works catering to that crowd, you get your jollies wherever you can.

The bartender was busy doing nothing but watching the local news channel, so it took a few minutes to get her attention. When he finally got her to notice him, it still took her some time to tear herself away from whatever tragedy the talking heads were tittering about. He ordered his usual Dewar's White Label on the rocks and pulled out a barstool to wait for his drink. He figured it would take her a while.

"Hey, pervert! Why don't you join me?" The female voice was almost familiar.

Craig wasn't used to being called a pervert, but he figured it was directed at him because he didn't see anyone else in the place. Well, except for the bartender, and she looked more like someone's grandmother than a degenerate.

He turned and scanned the dimly lit room. In a booth in a back corner sat Sarah Palin. Not really her but the lady from the elevator, who in this light, he thought, really did resemble Governor Plain.

Having absolutely nothing better to do, he decided to join her. He wanted to let the barkeep know, but her back was to him, so he shrugged and headed towards the booth.

The first thing he noticed about her, besides being still dressed as she was this morning, was the drink in her hand. She had a rocks glass with a couple of fingers of an amber-colored drink. It wasn't a glass of wine or some exotic concoction with multiple pieces of plastic sticking out of it. He was thinking it was probably bourbon, neat. Very unusual.

"Yeah, it's Maker's 46. Do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you Pervert?"

Craig laughed and stuck out his hand to shake hers. "Craig Bryce, is this where we exchange business cards?" He was smiling as he took a seat at her instruction.

"Corrine, Corrine Glenwood." She responded as she shook his hand with a firm grip. "And no, I won't give you a business card because you would probably just use it to start stalking me." They both laughed politely.

They felt an instant connection. No, not sexual in nature, but rather one of the shared experiences earned the hard way, having spent countless nights away from home. It was the type of connection that could evolve into a good friendship given time.

They made idle talk, inquiring about each other's jobs and travel schedules for several minutes while waiting for Craig's drink to arrive. After a painful ten minutes, it did.

Despite his dissatisfaction, he would still leave a generous tip for the bartender. Her indifference, not to mention the light pour she gave him, wasn't that unusual in his experience. Hell, she was working, he was working, and they both wanted to be somewhere else, almost anywhere else.