Walt and I have been married for almost twenty years -- since we graduated from college. Last fall, our daughter joined her brother at UC Davis, leaving our nest empty. I confess that I had looked forward to that, because I thought it might improve our love life, which, quite frankly, had gotten a bit stale -- we still love each other, but the physical side has been boring for years.
So far there has been no change, but I keep doing my best to look good for Walt, and set up situations, where the mood is romantic -- candles and wine and such. This has been difficult recently because there is a lot on Walt's mind. The economy has taken its toll and guys at the office are not having their contracts renewed. They had always worked on five-year contracts, but for the past two years as contracts expired the guys were kept on without a contract. When one of them was let go last month, because his productivity lagged, it put the fear of God into everybody.
I remember when Walt came home that night, he was almost sick with fear. He explained the situation to me and I began to share his fear. He made good money, but we spent it all on our mortgage and the college expenses for the kids. There was no way he could get a comparable job and we had a lot to lose if he lost this one. Our savings would be exhausted in a year.
Walt's productivity was better than most, but if his boss wanted to downsize, then one of the guys without a contract would have to go and Walt was high on that list. He was taking anti-acids for his stomach and Tylenol for his headaches. He worked long hours at the office and was on his computer constantly after he got home. He was not very good company, but I tried my best to build his spirits.
The company had monthly parties for associates and their wives and at a Saturday night party at the club the atmosphere reflected a lot of false cheerfulness. Walt's boss, Dan, was a gracious host and he spread himself around trying to make everyone feel that the company was going to survive this downturn. He was a tall man with dark curly hair and looked younger than his forty-seven years.
He invited me to dance. I must have been his tenth partner, but he seemed tireless. He was charming and an excellent dancer. We exchanged pleasantries and he returned me to my table, said his thank-you, and invited my friend Sarah to dance.
Walt looked at me angrily. "Did he try to feel your ass?" He asked in a surly voice.
"He was very gracious and a thorough gentleman," I responded. "Smile for God's sake. Keep up a good front."
He leaned close. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't act that way. It's just that ... well ... my whole future -- our whole future -- rests with that one guy. If he decides to let me go he can, and there's nothing I can do about it. He can hand my clients to a less productive guy who's still under contract and let me go. There are half a dozen of us in the same boat. It's not fair!"
"I know honey. But you don't have a contract and Dan doesn't control Wall Street and the market's down and everybody is suffering. Try to smile!"
Walt made an attempt. It was a painful evening for all of us. Of course the guys at our firm were not alone. We had several friends in our community with other companies who were suffering their own versions of hell.
Walt continued to work very hard and each night when he got home he went directly to his computer and worked till I served supper and then, went back to his computer again. I tried to dress attractively -- I still have a very good figure -- but he came to bed long after I did and went to sleep right away. I was horny but I didn't tell him -- I'd been horny for years.
One day I was in the mall shopping and to my surprise I saw Walt's boss, Dan. He smiled graciously and we chatted briefly about how empty the mall was -- I had read in the paper that shopping volume was way down. Dan invited me to have lunch with him and I couldn't very well say no.
We went into this very nice, rather expensive, French restaurant and Dan ordered quiche and a bottle of excellent Pouilly Fousie. It was a quiet, relaxed atmosphere and the wine went to my head a bit. I forgot our troubles and enjoyed lunch. We lingered at the table, talking about everything in general and nothing in particular -- certainly not about work.
Before I realized it, we were the only ones left in the restaurant. I looked at my watch. Three o'clock! I had spent three hours over lunch. I said thank you and told Dan I had to get some shopping done to fix dinner for Walt. Dan said a very gracious goodbye and we parted.
Damn! I thought as I walked through the parking lot to my car. What would it be like to have no worries and just "do" lunch that way whenever I wanted?
Walt got home in his usual grumpy mood, did his computer thing, ate his dinner wordlessly, and headed back to the computer. I cleaned up the dishes and went into the den to watch television. There was a show about French wines on the History Channel and I watched it. Beautiful vineyards in the sun, small restaurants with waiters pouring white wine -- I even saw the label of the wine that Dan had bought for our lunch.
I went up to bed and lay there unable to sleep. I couldn't get my mind off of that lovely lunch. I remembered that Dan had looked at my breasts several times -- always very discretely -- and I moved my hand up to feel myself - my nipples were hard. I heard the sounds of Walt clicking away on his computer. I fell asleep with visions of sun drenched French vineyards in my head.
Things got really bad the next weekend. Walt had been out of town Thursday and Friday meeting clients and he was in a surly mood when he got in late Friday afternoon. His mood carried over to Saturday and finally he told me that he had lost some business that he had counted on. He was down all the next week.
There was another company party at the club the following weekend -- I think Dan knew how depressed his staff was and hoped to improve their attitude. Maybe it helped. I had my usual one dance with Dan -- no mention of our lunch together. I had just come out of the ladies room when I met Sarah, probably my best friend among the company wives.
"Walt seems down," she said, as we stood there watching the dancers.
"Yeah, he is. Way down. He lost some important clients last week and he's really scared about losing his job," I said.
"Bob has two more years to run on his contract. He was signed the year before the market went down," Sarah said. "I hope things get better soon."
I nodded toward Dan, dancing with one of the wives. "He keeps trying to cheer everybody up."
Sarah looked at Dan gliding gracefully across the floor. "A real good looking guy, don't you think?"
"Yeah, very good looking -- and single!"
"He could have any one of a half dozen gals whose husbands don't have contracts. They wouldn't dare say no," Sarah said emphatically.
"I don't think he's like that," I said, thinking about how nice he treated me that day at lunch.
"And not just the wives whose husbands could get fired. Hell! There's a half dozen more who'd spread their legs for him in a New York minute, and I'm at the head of that list!"
I was shocked. "You're not serious! You can't be! Are you and Bob having problems?"
Sarah looked me in the eye. "Be honest Jean! You and Walt have been married as long as Bob and me. When was the last time he fucked you?"
