The Telltale Wife

Before I turned in I called Olivia, not knowing if the play was over yet, and left a voicemail wishing her luck and letting her know all was well on my end.

After a light breakfast the meeting began. Walter was presenting the results of the year in a PowerPoint. Our group was composed of two different functions broken roughly in half. One group were the client specialists. They worked directly with the individuals and institutions that were our clients.

The other group were the analysts. That was my position. We studied the market and made the critical decisions on how our clients' money was invested. As an analyst the measurement was easy. How well did you perform compared to the Dow Jones, the Nasdaq, and several other bellweathers of the current financial markets.

Walter went through the numbers and right before lunch the awards were given out. On the client side, an award is given to the individual who brought in the most new business. Christine Claiborne, a newer partner, won that award this year. Walter handed her an envelope amidst clapping and congratulations.

It was now time for the analysts award. I knew I'd had a good year, but I assumed others had equal success too. My nerves spiked as Walter began.

"In my time here, we've had many, a good year," Walter began, "there have also been some not so good years also. Fortunately this is not one of them," he smiled, amidst a mild chuckle from the group.

"This year we had one individual really perform at one of the highest levels in quite some time." Walter said and took a breath, he turned and looked directly at me, "Adam Green, my boy, congratulations." And he handed me my bonus.

I was stunned, the highest level in quite some time!? I was itching to open the envelope but I knew that was not the protocol. I was surrounded by hand shakes and congratulations.

"Adam,". Walter clapped me on the shoulder and said, "you will always have a place at our company."

After lunch we dove into the profit share. Without going into too many details, suffice it to say everyone was more than satisfied with their payout. I had many extra congratulatory hand shakes and slaps on the back. My success has helped everyone financially.

When I had a moment I snuck away to the bathroom and there, with the door bolted, I opened my bonus check. I was shocked! My bonus, not including my six figure profit share, was mid-six figures. This was fantastic. My head spun thinking of the opportunities this windfall will provide for Olivia and I.

Olivia, I thought. I need to share this good news. I would, soon, I thought but the celebratory meeting was still in mid-swing. The timing to talk to her wasn't quite right yet.

Later as the meeting wound down and late afternoon drinks were being served I had a chance to sit one on one with Walter Upshaw. As I may have mentioned he is a very nice man. One of the types that remembers your spouse's name, age of your children, and other details of your personal life.

"Tell me Adam," Walter said to me, "how is your wonderful bride Olivia?"

The sincere way in which he asked me with genuine curiosity must have been the reason I opened up to him. I explained about her, not so smooth, adjustment to suburban life. I then told him about how participating in the play had helped.

"When does this play begin?" Walter asked.

I told him that it opened last night and there were performances Thursday through Sunday for two more weeks.

"So you missed the opening!? Adam, my boy, you need to be there for your bride." He said to me,

"But," I began, "I can't miss the dinner tonight."

"Son," Walter began, shaking his head back and forth, "you can watch us all drink too much some other time."

He looked at his watch.

"There's a 5:15 PM ferry to Hyannis, gets in at 6:15, you'll likely miss most of the play but you'll be in your own bed tonight. I'll call the car and have them here in ten minutes."

So, that's what I did. I made a brief but enthusiastic exit and soon found myself standing on the ferry. Unfortunately, as can often happen, something was wrong with the boat and we didn't leave until after six o'clock. By the time I got to my car and was heading home it was nearly eight. I calculated I'd be home around midnight.

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

Oh my god! Thought Olivia. This play has me so excited. The audience is still clapping! On Thursday night, the opening, I had been nervous. But I'd remembered my lines and my nude scenes excited me. Particularly Act Three when Pierre, playing Marcel and I are in bed. The point of that scene is to show how Belinda had fallen in love with Marcel, and given him her love physically.

The small bed was on a shadowed part of the stage and the audience could see the silhouettes of the two lovers and hear the sounds of their love making. On the opposite side of the stage in full light Belinda's husband has a packed suitcase at his feet. He takes one last forlorn look in the direction of his wife and her lover, hears the sounds, lifts his bag, and walks off stage, figuratively ending his marriage.

The audience definitely reacted to my first nude scene. I received broad applause. That was so exciting! And then when we were in bed, Marcel (Pierre) and I, once again the audience responded.

They weren't the only ones responding, thought Olivia. On the opening night, Thursday, the bedroom scene was intimate and Pierre and my physical contact was necessary for the scene. The act ended and the message to the audience was clear. In the play we had made love.

Tonight though it was different. For one, Pierre did not wear his underwear like he did the first night, and when we'd been in rehearsal. We were in shadow, I was the only one that was aware of his state of undress. For another thing it was quickly and abundantly clear, he had an erection. The operative word was abundant! Wow, Olivia smiled and thought.

And then during our shadowed lovemaking scene, Pierre was much more realistic. He fondled my breasts and his naked cock kept humping my underwear clad crotch. We were just a thin piece of clothing from actually fucking on stage in front of the whole town!

Leaving the theater, I was confused. I was excited by the play and I can't help it, Pierre had really turned me on too. Suddenly I wasn't thinking about my marriage, my life, or the future. I was only thinking about Pierre, his good looks, his sexy style, and his big penis.

I turned the corner in the dark heading toward my car, seemingly alone, when all of the sudden there he was.

"Wonderful job tonight O-liv-I-a," he enunciated my name with his accent.

There he was leaning against the lamppost, smiling, looking at me with his sexy eyes. I knew immediately this could go the wrong way in a hurry.

"Would you care for a quick drink to celebrate a successful evening?" He asked, smiling at me.

"Pierre," I began, "I shouldn't, it's late." I protested.

"Only, just after eleven o'clock." He said, glancing at his wristwatch, "one quick drink, then off you go." He said matter of factly turned and walked confidently toward his apartment.

I knew this was a big mistake, one I'd likely regret later. Despite those rational thoughts, I followed Pierre.

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

A lone figure at the corner of the theater, smoking a cigar, observed the interplay between the two of them.

That little mother-fucker thought Bruno! I was just about to ask Olivia to come have a drink with me. I still need to fuck her at least once before this play is over. After all, it's me that's putting this whole thing together. And the more I see her naked and in bed with that little asshole, the more I want her.

I'm going to get her one way or another. Whether she's in full agreement or not. She owes me, he cursed to himself, his temper boiling.

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

Finally, I thought, I'm almost home. That had been a long dark drive from the ferry terminal. Fortunately my spirits had been considerably lifted by the events of the meeting. The profit share by itself was fantastic. But then the huge performance bonus. This was a life changing event.

I don't see any reason that we need to wait any longer before starting a family. Financially we were fine. Now, more than fine. We have the house. My job situation and particularly the positive words from Walter Upshaw made me feel quite secure in my career. And Olivia, dabbling in this little play, getting involved with things in Brompton, she seemed happier. It was all coming together.

Speaking of the play, I wonder why I haven't heard from Olivia. I'd called her three times on the way home. I checked the dashboard clock, nearly midnight. Huh? I thought.

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

I sat up in bed. I had to get going. Pierre lay like a log on the other side of the bed.

"Don't go, O-liv-I-a," Pierre begged, his near hand groping her. "I thought your husband wasn't back until tomorrow."

"Pierre, I'd love to stay," Olivia said. After this last sex session, oh my god did I want to stay. But I knew I couldn't be spotted sneaking out in the morning. I needed to get home.

Exiting Pierre's apartment I walked in the dark to my car. The cool night breeze gave me a shiver. There was the odor of cigar smoke lingering in the air. I took a brief glance around the area, and hurried to my car. I drove home with a mixture of feelings. The strongest of those was focused on Pierre.

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

"Adam?" I heard Olivia call out.

It was late and I was becoming a little worried about her. I figured the play would have been over at least an hour ago.

I quickly went to her as she entered the house. True, I'd only been gone a little over a day, but I missed her. As I moved to embrace her I was momentarily taken aback. She had a disheveled, rumpled look to her, her hair messed and her makeup incomplete.

Eventually we hugged but she cut it short. I smelled a slight foreign odor on her.

"What happened?" She asked, moving a half step away from me. "I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow."

"We have a lot to talk about," I said.

Her head snapped up at that statement and looked me in the eye. She looked concerned.

"Don't worry, it's all good," I told her. "Now tell me about the play."

She inhaled, as if relieved of something.

"Oh, Adam," she began, "I'm exhausted. Can we talk in the morning?"

"Certainly," I replied. This confusing greeting was not at all the scenario I had imagined. I assumed we'd discuss the financial windfall and tumble into bed and really celebrate our good fortune.

Odd.

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

After a light breakfast I suggested we walk The Bluffs and talk. I knew the Bluffs were one part of Brompton that Olivia really enjoyed. I thought it would be a great way to discuss all the positive things that had happened this week. I asked her if she wanted her walking stick. She declined.

We began walking the trail that stretched past The Staghorn and upwards toward the southern part of the peninsula. I asked Olivia about the play. I wanted to first talk about something that I knew she was excited about. The conversation didn't go the way I thought.

"The play is good," she said an octave above neutral but still far from excited. "We're getting a lot of applause."

And then silence.

I asked her to tell me more. How were the other actors? Was everyone remembering their lines? Was she nervous?

"How is it showing off your beautiful titties," I said in a joking manner glancing at her and smiling.

"Come on Adam," she replied with a touch of anger in her voice, "this isn't a big sex thing. This is art."

I had been lightheartedly joking with her but she took my remarks the wrong way. Something was up, and so far I wasn't sure what it was. The whole idea of a walk along The Bluffs and sharing interesting parts of our life was not going as planned. I decided I'd wait at least for the moment to share my good news.

The rest of the hike was quieter, we both enjoyed the picturesque majesty of the view. The Bluffs rose up from a flat shelf of stone that bordered Brompton Bay. The higher you got the fewer the trees along the Bluffs trail. You have to be careful during the wet season. The mud can be slippery and on parts of the trail it skirted close to the edge.

Finally on the way back down I told her I was excited to see the play tonight and I asked her what time she needed to be at the theater.

Once again she was strangely subdued. I assumed any discussion about the play would be something she would enjoy talking about. Apparently not for some reason.

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

I don't know what to do, Olivia thought. Over the past few weeks my attraction for Pierre had gotten so strong, and then I went to his apartment last night. I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't stop myself. The sex with Pierre was unbelievable.

The idea of the play ending, Pierre going back to the city, and me stuck here in dullsville is too much to comprehend. But then smiling, she remembered Pierre asking her if she'd come back to the city with him after the play was over. Well, he kind of said that. More like, would she come see him in the city. Nonetheless this young hot guy wants to keep seeing me, she thought. She smiled at that.

What to do about Adam she wondered. I know I've been weird around him, he's going to suspect something soon, if he hasn't already. He's also acting like he has some big secret thing he wants to tell me. To be honest I'm getting bored with Adam. Especially compared to Pierre.

I really don't know what to do. But I'm going to have to figure it out pretty quickly.

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

I had never been in the community theater building before. It was actually larger inside than it looked from the outside. There were a lot of people here for the play too. As I wandered through the crowds I kept hearing brief parts of phrases.

'naked' 'bare breasts', 'sex scene' and other comments alluding to the risqué nature of the play. Olivia and I had discussed this and despite my conservative upbringing, I'd come to accept the nudity. One small part of me even felt pride that all these people will be seeing Olivia undressed, knowing she's mine.

We were new enough in Brompton that I was not broadly known and recognized. I took a seat about midway and off to the left. As others found their spot I sat with a curious excitement as to what was going to happen onstage.

Fairly quickly the theater lights dimmed and the play began. I focused on Olivia, playing her role as Belinda. Soon Pierre appeared playing the character Marcel. You could tell that both Olivia and Pierre were far more experienced actors than the others. I hated to admit it but Pierre was a good looking guy.

And then toward the end of the first act the scene was being set. I knew enough of the play to know this was when Olivia's first nude scene was going to happen. But even knowing this, I was not prepared for what I saw. What the entire audience saw.

The way it was explained to me was that she would be naked, but in a shadowed setting obscuring the details of her nudity. There was no obscuring. She was front and center. Her breasts were prominently visible in the stagelight. No you couldn't see her full pussy, but we all saw everything just short of her gynecologist's normal view.

Maybe I just wasn't as prepared as I thought I was. But I sat there numb and embarrassed. I guess my hard wired conservative upbringing hadn't evolved as much as I'd thought.

And then the comments from my fellow theater attendees. Not quite crude but certainly some were sexual in nature. True, there was an underlying current of pride that this, the naked woman on stage, was mine, but I was still confused about how much of my wife the entire audience saw.

During the intermission I sat frozen in my seat. I didn't want to run into any of my few acquaintances in the lobby.

The story played on into Act Three. The direction of the plot was apparent and despite my uncomfortableness I found myself enjoying much of the play.

That is until the final act.

On the far side of the stage was a single metal bed. Belinda's (Olivia) husband comes home, hear's the noise of the couple love making, pauses, sighs, packs his bag and exits the stage. The lights go down and despite the plays apparent ending, the squeaking bed played on for another 20 seconds.

Before the clapping had ended I had fled the theater. Maybe Olivia and Pierre are both exceptional actors, maybe. But what I saw was my wife getting fucked on stage in front of a good percent of the town we lived in.

That's what I saw.

The plan was for Olivia to call me after she was finished at the theater. I needed to clear my head. I crossed the square and began to walk up to The Bluffs. It was dark and I stayed in the center of the path. Fortunately I was still wearing my hiking shoes from this morning.

I walked the muddy path for nearly thirty minutes before Olivia called.

"Hey, where are you?" she asked.

I told her. She told me that everyone was going to The Staghorn for a drink. I said I'd meet her there.

There was a small happy group of mostly actors from the play and their companions in a corner of the Staghorn near the bar. I noticed immediately Olivia and Pierre sitting side by side. Not inappropriate, just next to each other. I complimented everyone on the play and ended up on the outer fringe of the group.

My position at the bar allowed me to observe the interaction. I watched the group. As I casually observed the bartender, Isabella, Bruno's sister, brought me a beer. It was the same Porter I'd ordered once before. She had remembered. Her normal negative expression was gone. She was pleasant and asked me how I was doing with real sincerity.

"Hang in there it may get better," she kindly said to me with a pat on my shoulder..

Her comment surprised me. Was my unhappiness that apparent? Perhaps I wasn't nearly as good an actor as the rest of the crowd.

I watched the group chatting about the play. I sensed something was up with Olivia. I watched her interact with Pierre. Familiar and close, but I could tell something was bothering her.. And then I saw Bruno on the other side of Olivia. He seemed to be trying to engage her. Strangely she was pointedly ignoring him.

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

Bruno had a plan. He'd seen her slip over to Pierre's apartment last night. As he stood in the shadows waiting, he'd planned on taking her out for a drink and go from there. But that fucking little prick Pierre got to her first.

Well I just bet Olivia's husband would be quite interested in what his little wife is doing when he wasn't around, thought Bruno.

I'm guessing she may be quite cooperative if I kept this secret to myself. Tonight, after the play, I'll make sure that Olivia and I come to a mutual understanding.

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

She heard the light knock on her dressing room door. The play had just ended.

"Yes?" Olivia called out.

Bruno poked his head in the door. He invaded her space, standing too close.

"What do you want Bruno?" Olivia asked, irritated as she wiped makeup off her face.

And then he told her. The upshot was that he had seen her and Pierre last night at his apartment. He told her he'd keep it a secret, if she would, show him some affection.

It took a minute to process this. Finally, it clicked. Sex for silence.

"Fuck you Bruno!" Olivia angrily turned to him. "I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on earth."

"I'm sure Adam would be quite interested in your, shall we say, recent activities." Bruno smiled and told her.

"Fuck you!" She nearly shouted, "You don't have the guts to tell him. Now get the hell out of here," she stood and pointed to the door.