Truth

"Me suffer? How am I suffering when I have such a beautiful view? A front-row seat to kill for."

"Oh, you silver-tongued-devil you." She smiled seductively at him. "I thought you might be getting a little jealous that my... bits are attracting the attention of some of the men in here." Her eyes sparkled lustrously, "or perhaps my husband likes the thought of other men staring at his wife's breasts? Perhaps it turns him on thinking that they might be wishing she was naked?"

He knew the drugs were talking, but what they were actually telling him, was a little hard for him to decipher. "And what does it do to you, the thought of having men staring at your naked breasts?" The question was out before he could retract it. And the answer an even bigger shock to him.

"Well if you had your hand inside my panties right now, you would know. I'm dripping wet." She stabbed a fork into her starters, neither of them really interested in the food, their eyes burning into one another's with such intensity, it could start a forest fire.

"What!?" Trist could not believe what she had just said, drugs or no drugs. This was not Christine. "Are you saying that it turns you on? That you enjoy men looking at you. But...but when has this become a thing? When did my introverted wife suddenly become an exhibitionist? Have you actually done this?"

"Introverted? I'm not introverted Trist, I just have a strong sense of decorum, particularly were sex is concerned. And no, of course I haven't tried it. It is a fantasy. But the fact that you are jealous, has suddenly made it even more exciting."

"If it is a fantasy, all fantasy is based in desire. Do you desire to have men watching you have sex, or even participating?"

"I thought we were just talking about them seeing me naked? I have never thought further than that. About them watching me...performing." She suddenly shuddered. "I'm not sure I could even go there in fantasy Trist, so to consider actually doing it is completely out of the question. And participating? No, I'm a married woman, I would not like that at all."

"I'm not sure I can believe what I'm hearing. This from the woman that will only make love with the lights out and even then....but to have thoughts of men seeing you naked?" He let it drop, not wanting to hurt her feelings. The thought that she may have even considered this, confounded him. He took a large gulp of wine, to steady his nerves, then spilt the question that had been bothering him for nearly two years. "Of course I would be jealous. Just as I would if I thought you were seeing someone else, letting them see you naked, letting them do... do the things I used to do to you."

"Wow, you are getting jealous. I like it when you show some passion."

He looked at her as if she were from Venus. "What? Me show some passion?" He couldn't help taking the bate. "So, are you seeing someone at the moment, man or woman, or both for that matter, in light of your last statement?" There was a tinge of anger in his voice.

"A direct question. I like that in a man. I like it even more from my husband. Yes, is the answer."

Trist thought that he was prepared. Thought he had come to terms with the fact, that this was likely to be the answer. But the blow to his heart was as if from a 12 bore. He slumped back into his seat and thought he heard his heart hit the floor, waiting for Christine to trample all over it. He couldn't stop his eyes from beginning to fill. His throat constricted as he tried to control his emotions as his wife continued.

"Yes, I can see a man over there, two in fact and I can see three women. There, do you feel better now that you have prized the truth out of....." She turned her head back to him, from roaming the room and immediately stopped talking, when she saw his expression and the tears coalescing in his eyes. "Ooohh darling! Whatever is it? Oh surely you know.....? I'm teasing you Trist. I was only teasing you. Getting back at you for asking such a direct question. It was a joke Trist. Oh Trist, surely you must know it was a joke? I would never...."

Full tears had formed, despite her last words, and tumbled down his high cheek-bone into his groomed stubble. "Trist please..." Christine stood and sat next to him on the bench seat. "I'm sorry my darling, I can see that my joke was in poor taste now. I'm so sorry. Of course I am not seeing anyone. Male or female, though intrigued why you should ask about a woman. Have you been having your own little fantasies there Trist?" She smiled at him, cupping his face in her warm delicate fingers, and kissing away his tears. It was the most romantic thing she had done for him in years, and he found his pulse start to quicken. "Umm, they taste of you." She whispered to him, her own eyes now glazed with her emotion.

"That's because they are me." Trist's voice was more than a little croaky.

She pulled a hanky from her bag and mopped at his face gently. As she did so, his next question fell from his lips before he even thought about it. "So you still love me then do you?"

"Do I still love you? Oh my God Trist, but it breaks my heart that you should feel you have ask! Do you not then know? What have I done? In protecting myself from hurt, I have hurt deeply the person I love the most in all the world."

For Trist, suddenly the world had become his oyster. His wife had answered the two most prominent questions that had been plaguing him for the past two years. Gnawing away at him like a cancer. Influencing his very mood. She loved him, and he knew that to be true. She wasn't seeing anyone else. That must be true too. He felt like a veil had lifted from his eyes and he could now see, that in all relationships, there were two people, and therefore two sets of input, two enablers to possible solutions, should problems exist.

But then his pessimism leapt to the fore once more. 'What if the drugs had worn off? What if she hadn't drunk all of her tea? What if she had a resistance to them....?' He had to ask her more questions. Questions that he knew she would not normally respond to outside of the bedroom, and even then, it was unlikely to get a true response. But first he wanted to know what she meant by protecting herself from hurt?

"Protecting yourself from hurt, what did you mean? That I am hurting you?" His voice sounded out his astonishment.

"No Trist I..." She looked down at herself and tutted at her nipples.

He had to ask. "So, tell me then, why your nipples are erect?"

Christine blushed, but didn't hesitate in her response. "Well, I guess because they are aroused. And by that very point, so must I be. I thought you knew how it all worked Trist?"

"Oh, so you are saying then that you are aroused too"

"Isn't it obvious Trist? I'm pretty sure the whole restaurant has seen it too."

"Yes, I'm sure most of the men in here would have seen those two as soon as you walked in."

"They weren't misbehaving then. Only when you took off my cardigan."

"Why then?"

"Because you brushed the back of my neck with your warm fingers. You know how sensitive I am there. I bet it wasn't even an accident, was it Trist? Did you want me to embarrass myself?"

"Sorry," he said, not really knowing why. "It was truly an accident."

"Don't be sorry. You can see I enjoyed it and they continue to. Besides, there is nothing I can do to cover them now."

"I had no idea that my touch could have such a profound effect."

"Really Trist? You really had no idea?"

"Well maybe, but you can still tell me."

"OK then. Your touch across the back of my neck, gave me instant goose-bumps, made my stomach begin to churn, ignited a flame in my loins and set these two off." She looked down at her breasts. "You smell amazing by the way and look better than this menu." She emphasised it by holding it up.

"Well, that is made of cardboard, I hope I do look and smell better than that!"

"You idiot, I meant the food choices on it." They both laughed.

"So if you are aroused," Trist continued the line of questioning, "how aroused are you?"

"What on a scale of one to ten, you mean?"

"On a scale of, I am, but will calm down without a problem." He counted on his fingers. "I am but will calm down, with some effort and time. Or I am, and will have to do something about it?"

"Ohh, number three for sure. Once I get aroused, there is no calming me down, until I have come, at least once or twice."

Trist's jaw almost hit the table. "What?!"

"Once I get aroused I have to come Trist. You of all people should know that?"

"Er, I guess I must have forgotten. It has been quite a while."

"What since I last came? No, it was this morning. In fact if you must know, I had a little play with myself before getting dressed. But did not have an orgasm then. That is probably not helping matters now to be fair."

Trist couldn't speak.

"That has shocked you hasn't it? I can see it has. But I am a woman, and therefore can have multiple orgasms. In fact it is something I can do rather well?"

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

Christine suddenly laughed out loud, bringing the attention of everyone in the restaurant to their table. "Trist, you should see your face."

"Who are you?" He repeated. "My wife would never do.... never say that she did... just wouldn't...do that.... Would she? She certainly would never admit to doing that, not even to me. I didn't know that you.... I mean I guessed but... I don't understand." He looked bemused. The evening was not going at all as planned. He was learning more truths abouts his wife and her sexuality than he had expected, that was for certain; learning more in the last ten minutes, than in ten years of marriage. It was like a betrayal of a totally different sort. "So you say that you masturbate regularly?"

"Uh huh. Doesn't everybody?"

"How regularly?"

"Oh, a couple of times."

"A couple of times a month?"

"No," she giggled, "a bit more than that."

"OK a couple of times a week then?"

"Still no." She looked at him coyly.

"What you play with yourself a couple of times a day? I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"Shhh Trist. Not everyone in this restaurant, needs to know that I masturbate twice a day! And I'm sorry if that upsets you, but I have needs you know."

"No wonder then," he said, the hurt returning to his face and his voice.

"No wonder what Trist?"

"Well no wonder that you don't want to have sex with me, when you are getting more than enough pleasure from yourself?"

"That is not very nice Trist."

"Which part?"

"That I don't want to have sex with you. We both know that to be the other way around."

"Sorry?! You are the one that dresses now for bed. And I don't mean in sexy lingerie, I mean baggy, sexless pyjamas. You are the one that constantly dresses in clothing that hides, rather than enhances what a cracking figure you have. You are the one that can barely kiss me in the mornings or on my return from work. And wasn't it you that said that I was too kinky and demanding in bed?"

"Well, well, Trist, it seems I have hit a nerve here, doesn't it?"

"Aren't all of those statements true?"

"I suppose so yes. But don't make me into the bad guy here."

"But you must understand why I asked you now if you loved me? And why I asked if you were seeing someone else?"

"I can see your line of questioning yes, but we both know it is not me that is..."

He cut her off. "I don't understand what I have done to make you hide yourself away from me? Or to remove the intimacy we had? It is now obvious, though I am just realising it, that sex is pretty high on your list of daily needs. But what I can't understand, is that that list doesn't include me. Perhaps I should have also asked, if you still fancy me, sexually? Perhaps it is because I don't turn you on anymore? Is that it?"

"Trist, Trist. Now just stop a minute. This is getting a little heated and loud. I will answer your questions, but please keep your voice down. After all," she tried to inject some humour back into the conversation. "You have already told everyone here that I am visibly aroused and that I masturbate regularly, I don't want them finding out too much else!" She smiled at him, but it didn't work.

He suddenly picked up on his question from earlier. "So, what did you mean about protecting yourself from getting hurt?"

"I...I... look.." She paused to collect her thoughts. "Of course I still fancy you Trist. You turn me on like mad. In fact, it is taking all of my willpower, not to jump over this table and rape you right now. And it's getting worse as time goes on. What images do you think I have in my head when I am... playing? You Trist, you, your body, your... But I know what I am doing is for the best, the best n the long-run, for both of us, Trist. And certainly for me, I had to protect me..."

"Why, what from? Why would you or I want a sexless marriage Christine?"

Christine's eyes were now beginning to fill with tears, and Trist was starting to think that he should never have messed with things. He should have left them as they were. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Christine, especially as she would remember all of this in the morning.

"Because...Because I am 10 years older than when we first met."

"So am I Christine." Trist looked incredulous and bemused.

"Let me finish. Because I am not as fit as I once was, not as tight. You always had very pretty girlfriends before we were married Trist, and I knew at some point I would be competing with history, with the forward march of time. You now have a very pretty assistant, a coincidence? I don't think so. I know Trist, though I try very hard not to think about it, I know what you two are doing. I have seen her looking at you with those big doe eyes, Trist. So, I am protecting myself from knowing that I am not enough for you anymore."

"Wait a minute, do you mean to say you think I am the one having the affair? But why has that stopped you dressing femininely once in a while, or dressing up for me? Why no more skirts, no more stockings, no more anything? Would you give away my affections that easily?"

"NO TRIST!" She had raised her voice, and immediately looked about. But people hadn't seemed to notice. "Stop turning this around. Simply put Trist; it is because I can't let you go. I have thought about it. Often. But I can't. So I have come to terms with the fact that she might get you physically, sexually, but that I get all the rest. I can't say all of my needs are satisfied by my own hand, and I'm sure that is why my libido has increased, but I am willing to do what I need, to keep what I have."

"But that doesn't explain the lack of skirts and stuff."

"Why do you keep going back to that? Is it really all about what I wear?"

"Of course not. But that is what I noticed first I suppose."

"It's because I don't want you to think of me as 'mutton dressed like lamb', when compared to Alana. I want you to remember how my body looked when I was younger. As soon as I saw you had employed her, then I knew the writing was on the wall for me."

"But Christine... this is incredible! One point though, I didn't employ her, the department did. I was not involved at all. But anyway, to accept that I am sleeping with another woman, as long as I come back to you is... beyond belief! I mean I couldn't do it if roles were reversed. I'd be too jealous. And...and 'mutton dressed as lamb, are you kidding me?"

"Oh, I'm not saying I'm not jealous. How could I not be? And that is why I teased you earlier. She is taking something, someone from me that is mine, that belongs to me, that was promised to me, Trist. But I cannot bear to see you unhappy, I cannot bear to think of you looking at me and regretting what you see. But jealous? Oh I am jealous alright. In fact," she leant across the table and grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it tightly. "I have had some of my most intense orgasms, when thinking about what I would do to her if I got her on her own. And I don't mean nice things either."

"Really? Well I'd like to come back to that too. But first and foremost, and look directly into my eyes when I say this." He took her other hand and pulled her to him, until her pert breasts lay upon the table. "I think about you now, as I did when I first met you. You are the most attractive woman on the planet, and I count myself lucky that you accepted me as your husband."

"Trist.."

"No, wait. I don't know what you see when you look at yourself. But I see a 32 year old, incredibly enticing, sexy woman. A woman with long, lithe legs; a cracking tight bum, that I just love to smack. And a woman with the most delectable set of breasts and nipples it has ever been my pleasure to see, and touch and caress. Can't you tell I can't keep my eyes off you? Along with many of the other men in this restaurant, it would seem. And some of the women, for that matter. You have such a pretty face; luscious lips; gorgeous brown eyes; long lustrous auburn hair. If that were not enough, a personality that transcends all of that. If I were asked what I would change, I would say.."

"You would like me to be younger?" Christine spoke in an uncertain, almost child-like voice.

"You're 32, not 72! And even then, my answer would be the same. What I would like to see, is you confidently showing the world, what you have got. And owning it. There are many people so envious right now, of how attractive you are. I want you to see it, and know that it is true. My God, you are improving with age, not the other way round. You are perfection. And remember, despite all of the pretty girlfriends that I have had, I wanted to marry you, the prettiest of them all, but not just in body, in everything else."

"You are very sweet Trist, for saying those things, but.." She looked at him from underneath heavy fluttering eyelids, "you haven't seen me naked for nearly two years."

"And don't I know it. That is exactly my point to all of this. We need to set some things right don't we? Some ground rules. Something...."

"I.... I guess."

"But this must be mutual Christine. We are in a partnership, and partners agree on things together. Otherwise there is no partnership."

Christine looked down, knowing she had been chastised. "I understand Trist. What would you have me do?"

"I think you are still missing the point. Look at me."

She raised her face and looked directly at him. Staring deeply into her eyes, he could see the subtle change in her irises. The drugs were beginning to wear off. He had some more with him, but didn't want to give her a second dose. So he knew time was short.

"We decide the way forwards. We, Christine. And the first thing I would like you to do for me; and of course you have a choice in this, I am not forcing you to do anything..."

"What if I like being forced...?"

"Wha....... Again, who are you? Look, I'll come back to that too, but for now, go to the toilet, and remove your bra. When you come back, I want you to hand it to me openly. It is a symbol of your new-found freedom and liberty from the repressions of society, decorum, inhibition or whatever."

"Er.. OK Trist, but that is a little naughty."

"Yes it is, and is supposed to be, as I said, you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"I understand."

"Besides, it is no more naughty than those two," he pointed directly at her nipples this time, "nearly poking my eyes out. How do you think it will make you feel?"

"Honestly, I am not that bothered about removing my bra for you Trist. I am concerned though, about how horny it is going to make me feel. But to be fair, I think I am already on that road anyway." She stood, picked up her bag, and headed off to the toilets.

Trist was thankful for the long tablecloth. He had been hard for some time now, and was grateful that the cloth was covering his excitement. He sat there mulling over what Christine had admitted to him. It would take longer than he had here, for his brain to cogitate through the input he had received. His phone suddenly pulsed a few times in his pocket and he drew it out, expecting a message from Christine saying something like, 'I can't do it'. But as he opened WhatsApp, he saw an image of Christine, holding out her bra before her in the same hand as her phone. Her other hand, seductively lay on her breasts, covering both nipples from view. Trist was amazed at how much the image aroused him. Not just because he was staring at a beautiful woman, in the process of uncovering her breasts. Not just because that beautiful woman was his wife. But because she was obviously taking the picture, using the dressing table mirror in the toilets. At any point, someone could walk in and see his wife, taking a selfie of her tits. Trist's mouth had gone completely dry.