Marriage Of Convenience

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.

"Oh, nothing ... I ... I just thought Norinda would have been really into sex. We used to talk about it all the time at school."

"I wish! I wouldn't mind so much if she were even a half-decent screw. But I'd probably have more fun with a blow-up doll," I moaned.

"You really surprise me, Bobby," Stella commented.

"Well, that's how the cookie crumbles, Stella; me marrying Norinda secured the merger of the two family firms and that was what it was supposed to do. Since the merger, the combined company has more than quadrupled in size. My fear is that my old man's getting on a bit; the old bugger is going to kick the bucket in the next few years and when he does all his company shares will come my way. Now what I have to think about is: is Nora hanging on until the old boy dies and so that I inherit his shares before she divorces me. She'd get a far bigger proportion of the company wealth if she did."

"Oh, Bobby, I wouldn't have thought of that. But then when you think about it, Norinda is no fool," Stella observed.

"Yes, that's what I'm thinking."

"What are you going to do?"

"Divorce her is probably my best bet and as soon as I can. The folks have got their grandchildren now, so they can't complain too much."

"On what grounds? Has she been unfaithful?"

"Well, no, not to my knowledge."

"Mental cruelty then, or does she refuse to have sex with you any more. I think you can still get a divorce for the refusal of conjugal rights," Stella suggested.

"Well, now, that's a point but, no, I'm pretty sure if I asked her for a sha ... anyway I'm sure if I asked her, she'd say yes. The fact is I haven't asked her for years. As I told you a blow-up doll is more fun than Nora in bed."

"Oh, my poor dear Bobby Socks (all right, no smart-arse comments; that has always been Stella's pet name for me), let's go to bed and I'll make my little friend feel wanted," she suggested.

It must have been about three in the morning when Stella was just attempting to get her little friend, as she refers to it, on duty again - I swear the woman is insatiable - when she suddenly lifted her head off my tool.

"Look, Bobby, what you need is for someone to seduce Norinda and you to get some pictures and stuff of them in action," she suggested. "Then you'd be sitting pretty."

"Great idea, Stella, and just how do you propose I get any bugger to seduce a cold fish like Nora?" I replied.

"Well, I can think of one other guy who she had a crush on years ago and I think he's got a soft spot for her. He just needs a little shove."

"And who would that be?" I asked, intrigued. Norinda having a crush on any man, I thought, was surprising.

"If I said Wolfie Morris, would you be surprised?" she asked.

"Wolfie Morris? You've got to be kidding. I know the guy's a wolf, but he's not Nora's type."

"I'll have you know that Norinda had a crush on Wilfred Morris when we were at school. He would never go near her though, because he is shit scared of you. But I'm damned sure he was really attracted to her and still is; you should have seen the way he was watching her at the Christmas Hunt Ball," Stella said.

"Come to think of it, he did talk to her quite bit at the Henderson's dinner party the other week. But surely if he was going to chat Nora up and seduce her, he would have done it long ago. He's supposed to have a silver tongue with the ladies."

"Oh, yes, he's got a silver tongue all right, but he's not a fool. There's no way he's going to cross Bobby Knight, is he? Unless there's something in it for him."

"Yes, you've got a point there Stella, I never thought of that. I suppose becoming famous for being a real cut-throat bastard in business does have it drawbacks. But I can't offer him money to seduce my wife, can I?" I replied.

"Well, maybe you can't, but I know a man who, with the right remuneration and incentive, I think I can persuade to bet Wolfie that he can't get Norinda into bed. You know Wolfie; he never could turn down a wager, especially if there's taking a woman to bed involved. All I've got to do is offer Phil a night of pleasure if he wins."

"Tell me more. I'm interested." I urged.

"Phil Grumman has been trying to get into my knickers for a couple of years now. I think that if I offered to stake him ten thousand, he'd be willing to bet Wolfie five thousand that he couldn't get into Norinda's knickers."

"Phil Grumman? What, the actor? How come he hasn't been able to charm you into bed in the past?"

"No fringe benefits, Bobby. The bugger's got a gambling habit. He can hardly pay his rent, there's no way he can afford a woman with my tastes. That's why I love you so much; you're so generous."

"Stella, you've never loved me, just my bank account!"

"That's not strictly true, Bobby Socks. I love this little soldier of yours and what you can do to me with it. Anyway I'm thinking I can tell Phil Grumman that if he bets Wolfie £5000 that he can't seduce Nora, then I can tell Phil that if Wolfie wins the bet, Phil will be £5000 better off and he can fuck me. If Wolfie loses the bet, Phil will be £10000 better off, but he doesn't get to fuck me."

"Supposing they get together and pull a flanker on us?" I asked. "They could get together and share the ten grand."

"Never! Not those two. They are the best of enemies. Beside we'll insist that the actual seducing is done here, in this bedroom. This place is all set up for it with the two-way mirror and everything. Norinda doesn't know about the cameras and things, does she?"

"Of course not. She rarely ever comes here. I know she doesn't know about any of the secret rooms. I had silent alarms fitted when the place was converted. I know every time you or anyone else has been prowling about in this flat," I replied.

"Well, there you have it, the perfect plan. Stella will come up to town for Jill Partners wedding anniversary next month. Nora and Jill were as thick as thieves at school. I've never known her to miss one of Jill's parties, have you?"

"No, I can't say I have and I'm damned sure it's in our joint appointments book already."

"There now. Wolfie is always invited to the Partners' shindigs. He's a cousin or something. All you have to do is get called away for some important business meeting or something. You're a resourceful guy, so you'll think of something. Then Wolfie can escort Norinda back here to the flat. Hey, presto, you're in there behind the mirror and film the lot."

"Sounds a little too easy to be true, Stella," I suggested.

"Come on, Bobby, the simple plans are always the best. Norinda will have been drinking. Damn it, I'll doctor her drinks a bit as well to make sure Wolfie has an easy shot at her. Wolfie can talk the hind legs off a donkey and, assuming Norinda still carries that torch for him, it'll be a cinch for a man of Wolfie's talents," Stella replied, laughing.

And so it came to pass, less than six weeks later at the Parsons wedding anniversary party, that I alternated between watching my wife being plied with alcohol by her old friend Stella at the same time as Wolfie was trying his best to chat her up, with Phil Grumman attempting to run interference (Phil must have been in real financial straits to risk passing up a night with Stella). Whilst I also watched my watch, and waited for one of my employees to arrive with an urgent message for me.

About eleven-thirty Nora wasn't looking too good on her legs, but that was the plan, although she appeared to be having a whale of a time. I made sure that I was dancing with her when my employee approached and gave me the bad news.

"Oh, do we have to go?" she asked. "I was having such a lovely time."

"Of course not, my dear. You stay and enjoy yourself. I can go straight to the office and you can get a taxi back to the London flat from here. That'll let me get to the office quicker as well. Look, this is going to take the rest of the night at least. I'll call you sometime tomorrow. You'll probably want to take yourself home in the morning."

"Very well, Bobby, if you don't mind. Call me tomorrow," she replied

Then Nora did something she hadn't done for years; she reached up and kissed me. Well, we were in public where we had to put on the act, but I thought just for a moment that there could have been some passion there. Then it struck me; Nora'd had quite a bit more to drink than she normally has and Wolfie had been working on her all ruddy night. It looked to me like things could be going according to plan.

I made a show of leaving and telling all and sundry that I fully expected to have to spend the rest of the night and most of Sunday at the office. I'm positively sure that I saw a grin come over Wolfie's face when he heard the news.

Now some of you might be thinking that Wolfie could possibly take Nora somewhere else than our London flat to have his wicked way with her. But you have to understand a prick like Wolfie to know that that was the last thing he'd do. For a start Wolfie took great pride in seducing wives in their husband's bed; that's the kind of thing that arseholes like him get off on. And, secondly, that was one of the conditions of the bet that Phil had been told to insist on. Wolfie had to supply video evidence of the fact as well.

I went straight to the flat and after hiding my car where it wouldn't be spotted, made my way into the flat and the hidden room that housed the recording equipment. Hey, look, this flat was the one I let my business acquaintances use when they were in town. It was useful to know what they got up to and talked about when they thought I wasn't listening. I'd got some very embarrassing footage to use on some of them if the need ever arose as well.

Anyway I ensconced myself in the secret room with a bottle and made sure that the cameras were all ready to run, then I sat back and waited for the show to begin.

Did I feel any guilt about what I was about to do? Yes and no. I felt a little guilty about having set Nora up, but I had to protect my assets in the long term. As I said, if Nora and I weren't divorced before my father died, I could possibly lose overall control of my empire.

About half one, Stella called me on her mobile phone and informed me that Nora and Wolfie had left the party. She was following in another cab.