Sometimes when I'm reading other writers stories something in them will set my little grey cells on a journey of their own. This tale of misadventure came into my mind after reading HDK's "Hey Jude" some time ago. Eventually I got around to typing it into the computer.
I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course the encouragement they always give me. As I've been known to fiddle with stories, after they've seen it. I take full responsibility for the content and any cock-ups in this story.
I suppose that most folks think marriages like mine don't happen very much nowadays in our society. To be honest, I'm not sure how often they do happen, so mine could well be a rarity. Whatever, mine was a marriage of convenience.
Norinda and I had virtually grown up together much like brother and sister. Our fathers were both industrial magnates in their own right and in competition with each other, but the greatest of friends. All our lives our parents had talked about what would happen to the two companies when Nora and I got married and they were combined.
As far as Nora and I were concerned there was only one problem with that plan, We couldn't abide each other. You know some children never do get on that well with their siblings; well, although we weren't related, that was how Nora and I got on. We had hated each other for as long as I could remember. Oh, we put on an a bloody good act and pretended to like each other, but it was more that we got used to tolerating each other's presence.
If we'd ever been honest about it with our families - which we weren't! - things could have turned out differently, but all we ever had was our duty to the families, driven down our throats.
During our formative years, I'd be Nora's escort whenever the occasion demanded. She'd hold my arm and we'd dance together at balls and things. God, at our official engagement party we even kissed in public. But in private we hardly had a word to say to each other, unless we were talking business or about the children, that is.
Oh, yes, we did consummate the marriage, and even that was a formal affair. Nora lay there and I did what was required of me to supply our parents with the grandchildren they desired.
The first time we had intercourse, that's what it was. It wasn't making love and it wasn't fucking; it was having sexual intercourse. I discovered that Nora was a virgin.
Not that it surprised me; her father hadn't let any other guy get within spitting distance of her. She went to a convent school that always reminded me of a prison camp, only the guards were nuns in their black habits. She went to some weird women's only university in the states that she came back from, raving about women's rights and equality of the sexes.
Strange that she still waited for me to open doors for her, etc. No, let's not get into how the female mind works.
Where was I? Oh, yeah, sex in our marriage. Well, the sex between us was all about supplying grandchildren and it was generally a one-sided occupation. There was no love involved. Nora would call me into her bedroom on the internal telephone, telling me she was ready.
I would enter her bedroom carefully locking the door behind me. Nora was most insistent about having the door locked in case any of the house staff should walk in on us. She would be lying on the bed on her back with her legs spread wide. I would lift the flannel nightdress she wore so that I could undertake my task. Once my duty was completed, I would get up and, having pulled her nightdress back down again to preserve her dignity, leave. Often not a word would pass between us during the whole encounter.
Did I enjoy it? No, not really! I had much more fun with my mistresses or even a couple of the maids who worked for us over the years. The trouble was with the maids; Nora would change them - or at least the attractive ones - every so often. I can never be sure whether she found out about the ones that I had been banging, because she ousted some of them that I didn't.
Did Nora enjoy it when we had sexual intercourse? Now there's a question for you! Nora has some pretty good self-control and besides I've always been positive that she hates the sight of me, so how could she enjoy it. It must have been for her like the women used to say in the Victorian era, "Close your eyes and think of England!" Come on, you've got to laugh or you'd bleeding cry. I know I thought about crying sometimes.
But I must say there were the odd occasions when I felt her - at least start - to get into it. Her breathing would get slow and heavy and I'd felt her vagina grab hold of me on a few times; sometimes her hips would even begin to gyrate. But she'd soon compose herself, get her body back under control; then she'd return to lying there like a bloody log.
Okay, even with our strange sex life, we did manage to produce four wonderful children; then all sexual contact between us stopped. Nora had problems with her last pregnancy and the doctors told her to have no more children. With no more children to produce, she no longer needed to call me from my bedroom during the night.
I suppose she was a pretty good mother. I know that both our families were somewhat surprised that we didn't employ a nanny, although I think some of the older female house staff helped her look after the children. We had two girls and two boys, and I was very proud of them. I spent at least two evenings a week playing with them and as a family we all went to church together on Sunday mornings and to visit the grandparents in the afternoon after lunch.
Saturdays, unless there was some formal function that Nora and I had to attend, I played golf in the morning, then spent the afternoon with friends and evening with whichever mistress I had at the time. The other three nights of the week I normally spent in town at my club or out with friends, unless there was some function I had to attend with Nora - we had to show the outward sign of a happy marriage.
It was on one of those nights when I was out with my old friends that one of them, Porkie Parsons, told us how his world was falling apart. Apparently Edwina, his wife was divorcing him. She'd found out about at least one of his mistresses and was intending to take him to the cleaners for half of his five million fortune and was demanding a hundred thousand a year to keep her living in the style that she had grown used to.
"Two and a half million, the house and estate, and I'm going to have to pay the cow a hundred thousand a year and maintenance for the children as well!" Porkie wailed.
"Damn it, Porkie, you'll have to sell that yacht of yours," one of the guys quipped.
"You should have gotten the goods on her when you had the chance," another said.
"What goods?" someone else asked.
"Oh, damn it, Edwina was getting herself seen-to by Noddy Morris for years," Porkie replied. "I let it ride as it kept her out of my hair. Noddy was welcome to the cow. At least whilst he was rogering her, I didn't have too, and she wasn't watching what I was getting up too closely either. I never thought she'd do this to me!"
"What? You didn't get any evidence of what they were doing together. No bloody pictures or anything?" someone asked.
"Didn't think about it," Porkie replied.
Jesus! I thought to myself, I never would have thought Edwina would divorce Porkie. But then again she's got half his money and a hundred thousand a year, plus whatever maintenance Porkie will have to fork out for the kids.
Later I was at my flat with Stella, one of my long-term bits-on-the-side. Stella had been a friend of mine and Nora's for years, she and Nora even went to school together at one time. Stella had married some film director or the other; actually from what she says, she had never liked the man but by marrying him she got her big break in the movies. Stella's problem was her acting skills were severely limited; had she chosen to go into porn movies, she probably would have been a star. As it was she managed a few supporting roles in films that no bugger has ever heard of and - well, that was the end of her career.
She divorced her husband when she caught him on the proverbial casting couch with some other young starlet and took him to the cleaners in the divorce. Nowadays she claimed to be a model; Stella still had the figure for it, but she was well past the age range where she'd be invited onto any of the top-line catwalks. She lived most of the time in my London flat. I usually fucked her a couple of times a week and I brought her the odd present now and again. The arrangement suited us both just fine.
Anyway Stella noted that I had something on my mind that evening and asked me what was wrong. I told her about Porkie and Edwina Parsons and how Edwina had taken Porkie to the cleaners.
"And I suppose you're worried that Norinda is going to try and take half your millions, are you?" Stella asked.
"Well, yes, I suppose I am," I replied.
"Look, if Norinda hasn't divorced you by now, Bobby, she's probably happy that you aren't badgering her for sex all the time. Christ, she must know what a randy bugger you are by now."
"Me? Badger Nora for sex? Some bloody hope! You know we never had sex; we had intercourse to produce the children. Damn it, there never was any love in our relationship. We got married because my old man wanted us to. Nora and I have never really liked each other."
"Really, but I thought Nora..." Stella suddenly checked her sentence.
"You thought Nora what?" I asked when she didn't go any further.
.... There is more of this story ...