The Telltale Wife

Readers - this is a little different than some of the stories I've written. I wanted to try a couple of new ideas. One thing is the same. It's long. If you don't like longer stories, skip this one.

If you do read it, I hope you enjoy it.

The Telltale Wife

I lowered the car window and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air. Exhaling, I felt I was purging my lungs of the grind of the city. Don't get me wrong, that city provides me with a great job and the beginnings of the lifestyle I wanted for myself. And of course for Olivia too.

I sensed in Olivia's mind the jury was still out regarding our move to Brompton. It was certainly different than our apartment on the upper west side. Olivia's a city girl and the move to suburban Brompton has been a more challenging adjustment for her.

I passed over the bridge, the slightly salty marine air washing over me buoyed my optimism. I just know that once Olivia gets used to the suburban lifestyle she'll love it too.

Brompton has a small but active downtown core with retail, some restaurants and bars, and a few offices. There was a town square with city hall and the police department on one of the sides of the square.

Directly opposite city hall was The Staghorn, a restaurant and bar that was the unofficial center of Brompton. The Staghorn traced it's roots back to the 1800's. German immigrants, The DeKonig family, began making beer in a log cabin and then selling it. The cabin sat in the approximate same spot as the present day Staghorn.

I took all this history and community in, as I stopped at one of the few stop signs in town. I just loved the trees, the vegetation, the glimpse of the bay to the east. I turned right on Edmund, paused at the intersection where the The Bluffs Trail crossed Edmund, turned the corner and then gently braked in the driveway.

Olivia's car was parked in front of mine. I knew she was home. Unless she was hiking The Bluffs. This was one aspect of our move that for some reason she did seem to embrace. Shortly after we moved here I bought her what is called a tactical walking stick. It was a stainless steel pole that telescopes into a self defense weapon.

"What's this going to protect me from," she asked when I gave it to her, "the squirrels?"

She never used it.

Walking up to the entry I smiled as I looked at the house. It was a one story large ranch style home. On the left side of the house was the master suite and Olivia's studio. On the right side were a pair of bedrooms and a bathroom. This was designated for future children. Olivia's exercise equipment currently occupied one of the rooms.

The center of the house was a large open kitchen-dining-living area. I loved that part of the house and I glanced around as I walked in the front door. The French doors heading out to the backyard were open and the sheer curtains blew in from the breeze.

The backyard was what finally sold me on the house. It was quite private with no neighbors terribly close on either side. The back was Forest Service property and completed the privacy. I imagined a future built in pool. That should happen soon based on the firm's projected profit share trend.

I was early, catching the two-fifty train that afternoon. Normally I wouldn't be home till close to six. I checked my watch, four-ten. I looked over at Olivia on the sun deck. She had headphones on and sunglasses. And that was nearly all. In the privacy of our backyard she was only wearing a thong bikini with her top laying under her, unfastened.

Quickly I retreated briefly to the house, removed my shoes, and shrugged off my suit and tie. Wearing only my underwear, I crept up behind her. She was laying facing away from me, on her stomach reading a magazine. Silently I shed the underwear.

Using only my upper arm strength I gripped the sides of the chaise lounge and slowly dropped on top of her, my erection snuggled in to her ass.

""WHAAAAT!" She screamed and squirmed away from me. Surprise may not nearly begin to describe the effect that my sneaking up had on her.

"Adam," she finally yelled at me. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry, Liv," I began, "I couldn't help myself. You looked so good out here." I smiled and told her.

"Put some clothes on. It's the middle of the day!" She said glancing around, her brief surprise fueled anger retreating.

I remained silent and put my arms around her, her naked breasts pressed against my chest, I felt her nipples stiffening. I began kissing her neck. Slowly I felt her arms go around me and pull me closer. My lips soon found a naked nipple.

"Adam," she moaned, "we better go inside." She half heartedly protested, "someone could see."

Even as she said this her fingernails began to caress my erection. I knew she was turned on too. I started slowly removing her thong bottom, Olivia was not being exactly cooperative, with mock frustration my forefinger hooked the material, yanking it down. If it weren't so naturally elastic it would've ripped.

"Adam!" Alarmed, she breathed out.

I pulled off the remaining skimpy pieces of her clothes, roughly grabbed her hips and shoved her stomach down on the lounge chair. With my knee between her legs, I spread her thighs apart. There, naked, in front of me was her well waxed pussy, open and available. I plunged in.

"Uhhh," she cried as I entered her.

After several minutes in this position we switched. I lay flat and she climbed on top. This was a position I knew quite well that she liked. She rocked back and forth impaled on my erection. I had one hand massaging a breast and the other rubbing her genitalia.

I gazed at her, mouth part way open, eyes closed. Olivia makes this humming noise during sex that gets louder with her excitement. It's unique, and it was increasing. Her head began to shake as her orgasm washed over her. She slumped on me, moments later I climaxed.

We lay like this, entwined, a sheen of sweat covering us together. At this moment I couldn't remember being happier. My job, this house, and certainly my marriage to Olivia, in my mind was all just perfect. I imagined many years of happiness for the two of us together in this house.

Unfortunately that's not the way things went.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

That night, buoyed by the positive direction my life was going and the afterglow of great sex, we walked down the trail to town and had dinner at The Staghorn. My mood was upbeat and this positivity was slightly contagious, but there was no way around it. Olivia had not yet embraced our move from the city like I had.

The Staghorn was a big, open establishment with golden stained pine boards cladding the interior walls. A huge stone fireplace stood opposite the bar. Wooden beams spanned the tall ceiling. Large windows were on three sides, facing into town out the front and a glimpse of the bay, and the beginning of the Bluff Trail to the east.

The establishment was three quarters full. The bar area and the tables for diners co-mingled giving an open community feel. People in general seemed friendly and this good natured restaurant reinforced the strong feeling I had for the community.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I thought back.

Olivia and I met five years ago in the city. I was working for the same financial services company that I'm still with. I was on the fast track to making partner.

We met at an art exhibition a married couple from my office had talked me into attending.

I knew little about art and found myself standing in front of the different works, index finger tapping my lips, without any idea what I was looking at. I rounded a corner and suddenly I found something of interest.

A nude.

It was an oil painting. The model was staring back at the artist giving the impression she was looking directly at the viewer. Her thick, streaked honey colored hair fell over her shoulders stopping at the top of her beautiful nipple tipped breasts. Her legs were crossed but the artist showed a shadowed glimpse of the mystery of her womanhood. Art and erotica co-mingled..

I must have stared at this one painting for quite sometime.

"Do you like it?" a female voice said over my shoulder.

I was startled out of my erotic reverie. Without looking up I replied.

"She's beautiful!" I exclaimed maybe a little too enthusiastically.

"Oh really?" The voice answered with a chuckle.

I finally looked up to see who I'd been conversing with. I froze. It was the nude in the picture! The eyes, the hair, the mouth. My eyes glanced down to her clothed breasts. There was no doubt.

The woman, still smiling, took in my reaction.

"Oh, it's you!" I exclaimed looking back and forth at the painting and the woman, any semblance of proper etiquette long gone.

"Yes, I modeled for Julian for this and several other of his works. This is the only one being shown here tonight." She declared. "Are you interested? In the painting, I mean."

"Yes and yes." I replied.

She introduced herself as Olivia Gordon. She was an actress, artist, model, and also worked at an advertising agency. She had appeared in several smaller venue plays, and had sold two sculptures in the six years she had been in the city. She modeled occasionally. She was originally from Indianapolis.

Olivia agreed to have a drink with me after the art exhibit. I was seriously considering buying the $15,000 nude painting. My success in the financial industry would certainly support the extravagance. Truly though it was Olivia I found myself interested in.

"Julian has an uncanny ability to duplicate real life on his canvas," Olivia gushed on as we walked into the night outside the gallery.

It took me three weeks and $15,000 to agree with Olivia's statement about how uncanny Julian was. It was worth it.

Not only was she as beautiful in real life as my picture, she seemed to thoroughly enjoy sex. I couldn't seem to get enough of her. As often as possible we would get together. Mostly ending up at my apartment on the upper west side.

We differed in a lot of ways. I was from a conservative Pennsylvania family two generations away from farmers. I was taught to study hard and read the Bible. And I did.

Olivia on the other hand was raised by a single mom who ran a pretty loose ship, it sounded like. She was attractive and popular and gravitated toward the artistic crowd in high school. After high school she started at a community college with an idea towards a graphic arts degree. After a year and half at the junior college she dropped out and moved to the city with a girlfriend.

I, on the other hand, graduated college with a GPA high enough to get me into Wharton for my MBA. My moral upbringing and work ethic propelled me to a high grade point in graduate school too. Before I had graduated I'd received an offer from a mid size financial service company that was successful and growing.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

My positive mood continued as we dined at the Staghorn. Olivia was having a good time, she loved going out, but there was a reserve I sensed. As I've said she hadn't quite adapted to suburban living. I decided to bring it up.

"Liv, Honey," I began, "what would make you happier? I know you aren't quite as sold about living here in Brompton as I am. What could make it better?"

She sat for a moment, swirled her wine in her glass, glanced toward the ceiling and replied.

"I guess I'm just kind of bored. I miss the excitement of the city. I like the town here," she said with medium enthusiasm, "it's just that I feel all my artistic energy draining out of me. I need to do something."

I nodded quietly. " I get it," I told her. "I will support you 100% on whatever it is you decide to do."

She smiled, reached across the table and grasped my hand. Even after sex just a few hours ago her touch sent electricity throughout my body.

I smiled back at her and thought back to the days before we were engaged. I debated proposing to her. We were compatible in most ways, but we were products of much different environments. Mine was strict and conservative. Her's was open and free, little discipline, and an absentee mother.

I wondered about these differences. For the most part she was even tempered and pleasant to be around, but there were two occasions that opened my eyes to a different side of her.

The first time was several months into our dating. We had to stop by the apartment that she shared with two other girls, Melinda and Trish. The moment we walked in, the smaller roommate, Trish, accused her of taking her cashmere sweater. After several back and forth accusations the intensity rose.

"I didn't take your fucking ugly sweater!" Olivia shouted.

"I know you did, you fucking lying bitch!!" Trish screamed back.

And then it was like a switch turned on. I watched the anger in Olivia's eyes rise to a different level. All of a sudden she lashed out at the smaller roommate with an open handed slap right across the face. It nearly knocked her down.

She turned to me, "let's get out of here!" And we abruptly left.

A week or so later I brought the whole scenario up to her trying to get more clarity on what had happened and what had transpired since.

"Oh," she began in an offhand way, "she found it. It was in her closet after all."

I was slightly speechless. This was, in my mind, a major confrontation that would need more than a casual dismissal because the sweater turned up. Olivia had assaulted her.

This was just so out of character for her the whole thing just slipped to the back of my mind. And then a year later there was another scenario. And this time I was involved.

We were at my apartment preparing to go somewhere. I made some idle comment on how it takes her so long to get ready. She said she needed only five more minutes.

"That's what you said fifteen minutes ago," I said, mock seriously.

I was facing away from her and when the shoe glanced off my shoulder and then hit the wall behind me I was surprised. I didn't know what had happened. At first I thought the ceiling was caving in and I looked up. I then noticed the shoe and I saw that same angry look on her face. Just like with Trish.

"Olivia!" I exclaimed, "what the hell!?"

"Come on," was all she said, "I didn't know we were in such a big fucking hurry."

And we left. Though I tried to bring this up on several occasions she never explained the level of anger. She just verbally swept the incident under the rug. But it gave me pause.

In fact I contemplated ending the relationship. Finally though I came to the conclusion there were too many positives compared to these isolated negatives. And certainly one of the positives was the sex. She was beautiful, open, willing, experimentive, and she liked to make up interesting scenarios.

One day at my office she sent me a text:

'I can't afford to pay the rent, please don't kick me out on the street'

I replied: 'Huh?' She was living with me and I owned the apartment. What was she talking about? She then sent me a made up script. Here was the scenario:

She was a poor, single girl, who spent her rent money to fix her broken down car. And now she didn't have her monthly payment, what possibly could she do to save herself from being kicked out of her apartment.

My role was the unforgiving, but horny landlord.

You can imagine the rest. Just to suffice it to say I got one of the best blow jobs of my life that evening. Upon occasion there were other of these type of games she came up with. I have to admit, it was always fun and Olivia seemed to enjoy getting in to whatever role the particular scenario required.

But it was more than just sex and her looks that attracted me to her. She helped me break out of my tight conservative mindset and be a little more loose in the way I approached the world.

Conversely I think my strong morals and ethics rubbed off on Olivia in a positive way too. At least I hoped they were. It felt like together we were more than the sum of our parts.

Obviously my small concerns about her temper were outweighed by all the positives. And we were married. We talked about our longer term goals for our lives. I told her how important a family is to me and she seemed to agree. I also said that I didn't believe the city was the best place to raise a family and that before we had children we should move to a place that was more family oriented.

I recall her agreeing to this, I think, but maybe without the same level of commitment to this idea as I had.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

This brings us full circle back to The Staghorn and all her creative energy.

"Liv, you'll find something," I told her. "We've only been here a few months. Give it a chance. Something will turn up."

She nodded, maybe not quite as optimistic as I was.

I walked up to the active bar to pay the dinner check. Behind the bar was a dark haired woman streaked with gray, large boned, maybe fifty years old. She had intelligent eyes and natural creases in her brow giving her an unwelcome look. She looked like she was in charge. I handed her my credit card and she smiled at me. The smile didn't quite wash away her expression.

"New in town?" A much more friendly man standing at the bar asked.

He was big, a little overweight, mid 40's I guessed. He had a sunburned face and a crown of curly black hair. Pleasant looking, a broad smile, he dressed casually but expensively.

"Adam Green," I introduced myself. "Yes, we recently bought a home on Edmund Lane." I replied.

"Oh, so you're the new owners!" He nodded, "the Haines place. Wilbur and Connie had been there for over forty years." He explained.

"Bruno DeKonig," he said, thrusting out his hand to shake. I reminded him of my name as we shook.

I'd heard of the DeKonigs. One of the original families that had helped form the town of Brompton. I also knew that along with quite a bit of real estate they also owned The Staghorn.

"Adam," he continued familiarly with me, "this is my sister Izzy." He turned toward the stern looking woman behind the bar.

"Isabella," she stated as we shook hands and she smiled. Despite the smile she still had the angry expression I had originally noticed.

Just then Olivia walked up, I suppose I'd been chatting for a few minutes and she walked up to see what was happening. I introduced her to Bruno and Isabella.

Their reactions to Olivia couldn't have been more opposite.

Bruno fell all over himself when he met Olivia. His eyes wandered up and down her physique and if possible his broad grin widened. He was one of those guys that liked to touch. Nothing quite inappropriate, just a lot of touching.

On the other hand, Isabella didn't even shake her hand. She folded her arms across her chest. A clear signal of standoffishness. Isabella's expression that I'd described earlier, grew more stern.

After a moment more of chatting we left. Bruno gave Olivia an elongated clasp of hands as they parted. Just as we were exiting the huge wood door I looked back at the bar and saw Isabella's steely gaze focused on Olivia. Very odd, I mentally repeated.

The theme on our short walk home was on Olivia and her artistic interests. I told her to explore opportunities in Brompton and the surrounding area. She seemed a bit more positive with this discussion.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

My daily routine was up at five AM for my morning run. I'd go two miles up toward The Bluffs and then take the winding trail back through the forest home. The huge stone cliffs of The Bluffs overlooked a flat rock outcrop and then the bay beyond.

By six-thirty I was showered. I would dress, have a light breakfast, and then drive to the train station. Normally I'd be on the seven-ten train to the city. I'd get to my office shortly after eight o'clock.

I got to know several of the other Brompton commuters just from our mutual trainrides. Most of us would consume the newspaper during the commute but occasionally I'd talk to some of my fellow travelers.