Boredom, Its Price Can Be Devastating

by the Troubador

Tags: Ma/Fa, Cheating,

Desc: : A happily married man finds too many unusual changes in the frequency and circumstances of his wife's frequent business trips.

It just got to be too much, too many hints, too many inconsistencies.

Sally and I had been married a dozen years. When we wed it was for all the right reasons, but things had changed. We both 'grew', as they say.

For me, it meant I settled down and saw a future. At least that's what I called it. The bar scene bored me now, the loud music and drunks weren't fun any longer. The music was so loud I couldn't really talk over it, and it was important to me now to connect with people. The drunks were just that, drunks. When I stopped taking more than a couple drinks an evening the stupid things the drunks said and did stopped being funny clever and began being just stupid and inane.

I thought Sally was going along with me. She seemed to be as interested in the walks, quiet evenings at home and the loving sex as I was. We had stopped the bar scene and begun doing 'things' together. She seemed to agree with me that quieter, less rowdy diversion were at least as satisfying. Lord knows our heads hurt a lot less the next morning.

Well, that's what I thought until her business trips began to come closer together. She had a job with a cosmetics firm, and visited the firms customers regularly to push and demonstrate 'New & Improved' products in their line. The business trips had increased from one every three to four months until the last few months I realized Sally was flying off somewhere about every three weeks.

When I started thinking about it, the pattern of the trips had changed too. At first Sally had been heading to the airport in the morning. Arriving at her destination before noon, Sally would meet with the executives of the firm she was visiting over lunch. She would spend the afternoon answering questions and showing the advantages of 'New and Improved. The next day she gave demonstrations at leading area boutiques and department stores, usually lasting through the afternoon. Sometimes Sally would give an evening 'performance', but then she would fly back home that night. She always called me to meet her at the terminal when she arrived, no matter what time she was to arrive.

Now she was flying out the evening before, then doing her meetings and demonstrations over the next two days, presumably like before. But she was flying home the morning or early afternoon after what I had come to call her demonstration performances. At first she had been making a flying two-day trip, arriving one morning, staying over one night and flying home the next afternoon. Now she was spending three nights before returning the third morning she was gone and she didn't seem to want me to meet her when she arrived. According to Sally, she knew I wouldn't want to take the time off work to pick her up on a regular basis.

Now you're probably thinking I got suspicious because our sex life was suffering, but that wasn't really the case. Actually the night she returned from one of her jaunts were becoming some of the hottest sessions we had.

And that WAS one of the things that got me thinking. She was becoming 'inventive' some of those evenings. Some of the little quirks became part of our regular loving.

What got me really thinking about this a couple months ago was realizing that she wasn't available when I tried calling her in the evenings. She always called me just after our usual dinnertime here, but didn't answer the phone if I tried to get in touch with her later, say at 9:00 or 10:30. In one instance I tried calling after midnight and still couldn't connect with her.

She told me she was getting really tired after the flights in and the long days working with clients and giving demonstrations. According to Sally she just wasn't answering the phone. If I left a message she called me the next morning at work, usually around 8:15 just after I got to my desk. Needing to get some rest after the arrival flight was the reason she gave for flying out the day before. She told me she wanted to avoid the hassle of the late night flights after a long hard day of demonstrating to the public; that was why she was staying over the extra night. They all made sense, more so if I assumed she had little interest in being home with me.

I felt really crappy about the doubts I was having. Yet I couldn't help wondering what was really going on those three nights that she was gone and couldn't be contacted. I cared for her, a lot. And except for this, Sally had given me no reason to doubt she loved me. But this progression was eating into me badly. I was jealous, and letting it get to me, but it seemed to me there was reason. I couldn't put it out of my mind and it was beginning to affect our relationship whether she understood it or not.

Finally I decided I had to satisfy my doubts, get the monkey off my back so to speak. But there was no way I could let Sally know my doubts. If they were groundless she would be really pissed at me for questioning her. If there were some substance to them, she would be pissed, and scared. In either case the 'wonder what's' would still be there and nothing would be changed, except that my wife would be mad at me.

It seemed to me necessary for me to satisfy myself that my fears were hogwash. Still, she couldn't know I was doing it.

So when this last trip was scheduled, I arranged a few days off with my boss. Then I told Sally I needed to visit one of our suppliers on the days she was going to be gone. I promised to call her at her hotel the time we usually talk, as I would likely be gone overnight and wouldn't be home to take her phone call.

Sally was flying out late that afternoon to Phoenix. I booked a flight leaving that morning and arrived enough before her to settle in a room at the hotel where she always stayed. After changing into clothes she wouldn't recognize I drove my rental car back to the airport. When she walked off the airplane I was near the gate in a nondescript outfit, wearing a loud baseball cap and reading the National Inquirer.

A tall, distinguished man met Sally as she exited, giving her a very affectionate hug. I recognized him, having met him at a company banquet a couple years before. He owned the local distributor for the cosmetics line that Sally was going to demonstrate. Letting them go ahead of me I made my way to the baggage pick-up area and watched them gather my wife's suitcase from a distance.

Easily beating them to the hotel where Sally and I were both staying. I changed my shirt, and slipped on a sport coat. When my wife came in, I was sitting off to the side in the hotel lobby and watched her check in.

After getting her key, the two of them got in the elevator together. The man looked like he had already put in a long day, his hair was mussed and didn't seem to want to stay in place. He looked tired, but he also looked very glad to be with Sally. They and another couple were the only ones on the elevator when the doors closed, and I watched the floor numbers; the elevator stopped at the fourth and fifteenth floors. So I now new Sally's room was either on the fourth or fifteenth floor. I guessed hers was on the fifteenth, she usually wanted a room with some kind of a view.

Forty-five minutes later the two of them were still up there, which had me gnawing my knuckles. But this was a working trip after all, and it was not unconceivable the two of them were handling details of Sally's 'performances' for the next two days.

Checking the time, I saw it was 6:15 where we lived and a bit late for my evening telephone call. Going to the bank of pay phones, I dialed the hotel and asked for my wife. The phone rang at least ten times before the operator came back on the line to tell me my party wasn't answering. My stomach was churning as I put the phone down.

Walking over to the gift shop, I picked up a book on the newest fad in self-improvement, grabbed a local newspaper and went back over to sit where I could watch the elevators. Almost three hours later I recognized the man who had gone up with Sally as he came out of the elevator. He looked nicer than he had when he met her flight. In fact the man strutting through the lobby looked like a man who had just freshly showered and was perfectly rested. His hair was perfectly in place, and even looked a trifle damp. He certainly didn't look like a man that had just spent four hours discussing business.

Telling myself not to jump to conclusions I tossed the now read book on self-help in a trash can and walked over to the pay phones to put in another call. There was still no answer from Sally's room.

Going to my room I got ready for bed, then lay and stared at the ceiling. I'm sure I got some sleep that night, but I have no idea when or how much. It seemed to me I tossed, turned and stared at the ceiling or out the window all night long.

After taking my shower the next morning, I used a washable hair color to change my looks and dressed in a style my wife would not associate with her husband. Going back to the lobby, I used the pay phone again to call my wife's room. Again no answer, but I left a message that I had tried to call, and would be away from the office today, but would call her tonight after I ate. I knew her working day would be spent taking care of real business, not funny business, so I spent the day sightseeing the city.

That afternoon I was again in the lobby when Sally came back. I watched her get into the elevator alone. Then sat down to wait.

After giving her twenty minutes to get settled I moved to the pay phones and called her room. She answered almost immediately, sounding slightly out of breath.

After saying she loved me, Sally told me she had just that minute returned to her room from a rough day. We chatted about our days, mine pretty fictitious. She told me she was really worn out and was planning on a quiet dinner in the hotel, then going to bed to maybe read. But whether she read or not, she was going to get to bed early as she had a hard day of demonstrations tomorrow. I told her I had tried to call her the day before. Sally explained that she was met at the airport by the man who owned the firm distributing their products in the Phoenix area. They had gone directly to his office and she had not checked into the hotel until quite late. She warned me she might not be back to the hotel until late, our time, tomorrow and not to be disappointed if she wasn't in when I called tomorrow evening.

Feeling unsettled after that lie, I sank into my seat in the lobby to read the paper before going in to eat. My mood was totally spoiled when the elevator opened forty-five minutes later and Sally stepped out of it on the arm of a man I had never seen before.

They were chatting and joking, flirting pretty openly, and he gave her a very familiar pat on the ass just as they turned away from me and headed for the parking garage. My rental car was parked on the one-way street in front of the hotel. Hurrying out to the car, I climbed behind the wheel and waited. From where I was sitting I could see the exit to the hotel-parking garage. Five minutes later I recognized Sally and her escort as they drove out.

Pulling carefully out behind them, I followed them to a steak house outside the city. Parking, I waited while they ate dinner. That was the first time I realized I had not really expected to find her running around since I had made no preparation for eating while on stake out. I knew I was pretty depressed when I found being on stake out at a steak house moderately funny.

It was an hour and a half wait before the two came out. They were giggling and loud. Pretty obvious to me that my lovely wife had been downing a few drinks with her meal.

My evening just went downhill from then on.

They drove to a loud bar. After giving them ten minutes to get settled, I followed them inside where I moved to the bar Sitting where I could see the room. They weren't hard to spot, being probably the loudest couple in the place. Sally and her date danced, drank, openly necked, and acted like the life of the party. Everyone seated near them was pulled into their fun, and it looked like one big party. One thing was obvious, my wife was well acquainted with her date.

Sitting quietly at the bar, I tried to nurse my drink. To my utter astonishment a very attractive woman sat down and struck up a conversation with me. She was funny and nice, but something didn't quite fit. Somehow I picked up that she was working for the bar, checking out potential troublemakers. I didn't fit in with the hard drinking clientele and it was her job to stop a 'scene' before it started. She finally scoped me out as a lonely man, trying to recover from a broken heart. One of the things she tried to do to cheer me up, was point out the happiest couple in the room, my wife and her date. She told me the woman had been in here a few times alone, but just three weeks before Randy, the guy she was with, had been the one taking her home. She had seemed pretty unhappy and lonesome herself back then, but just look at them now!

I thanked her for her help, told her I felt better and that I'd best go home and get myself a good nights sleep now. She had helped a lot.

I drove back to the hotel, changed clothes again and decided to go get a cup of coffee at the hotel coffee shop. I happened to be sitting where I could see the elevator banks. Not fifteen minutes after I sat down I saw Sally and her date step into the elevator on the way up to the fifteenth floor. Before the doors shut, she had her arms around him and the last I saw of my wife that night, she was engaged in one of the most erotic kisses I had ever seen. When the doors shut the crew behind the counter in the lobby were snickering to each other about the display. There was serious question whether they were still vertical by the time they reached the fifteenth floor. I guessed Sally wanted to show him the view.

Now that I knew her date's car, I headed to the parking garage, and found it easily enough. Shining my key-chain flashlight in the windows I spotted a manila business envelope mailed to Randy Hansen. Now I knew her date's name, for what good that did me.

Just for the hell of it, I headed back to the payphones to look in a Phoenix area telephone book. Sure enough, Mr. Randy Hansen was listed. The listing was for Randy and Barbara Hansen.

Looking at my watch I saw it was after 11:00, but dialed the number anyway. It took seven rings, but a woman finally answered. I asked her if I could talk to Randy. She told me he was out wining and dining some muckitymuck from one of his accounts and she didn't expect him back until the wee hours of the morning. I apologized, and told her I had a problem, but hadn't realized how late it was. Telling her I would catch him in the morning I hung up.

Now I was pretty steamed and dialed Sally's room on a house phone. It rang a dozen times before I hung up. Going up to my lonely room, I waited another twenty minutes and called her phone again, letting it ring. Waiting a half-hour I dialed it again and let it ring again. Then I waited another half-hour before dialing again.

About the twelfth ring Sally picked up, sounding slightly drunk and very pissed. Talking through a wash cloth over the phone, and trying to sound drunk, I made an indecent proposal. Sally gasped, and I heard the phone being grabbed from her. A man's angry voice came on the line warning me to leave the lady alone, or he would kick my ass.

I paused, and then went for it, "Oh! Sorry Randy, I didn't realize you were the one with Sally tonight. Give her my regards, I'll talk to her later." And then hung up and went to bed.

Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep that night either. The next morning early I decided there was nothing more to be gained hanging around Phoenix. I checked out early, probably before my wife was up. Driving to the airport I caught the first plane going my way and was home by 1:00PM.

That evening I made no attempt to call Sally. If she were out, nothing would be gained; if she were in my not calling would give her something to think about.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Cheating /