Not My Problem Anymore

Been incredibly busy since I retired (officially that is), and don't seem to have the time to get a longer story finished to my satisfaction. So here's a short one, that would have taken place in not much longer than it will take to read it.

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"Tom," I called out to my fellow worker. "I need to chat to you about a few things. Are you free for lunch?"

"Not sure Nick," Tom replied. "I've got a few things to finish by this evening."

"I'm paying," I told him. "I need a bit of advice mate."

If you're paying," he grinned. "Then I'm free."

I knew it wasn't the cost or the money, but that if I was offering to pay, then I had a serious problem. Tom was one of them nice guys. A man you could rely on. One of the lads as it were.

Ok, so he had an eye for the ladies as well, and a high success rate. Something that he didn't brag too much about, and as a result, us other guys didn't resent him.

Sort of a folk hero.

No; a bit strong there, but you know what I mean.

"Twelve thirty Ok for you?" I asked.

"Fine," he replied. "See you in the car park.

I sighed deeply. At last I felt I had someone I could discuss my problem with, and maybe, hopefully, someone who had the insight to help me find a solution.

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Several hours later found the two of us tucking into steak pie and chips, and our first pints of Directors best from the Courage brewery, already half finished.

"So what's the problem then Nick?" he demanded, prior to stuffing a tasty morsel of pie into his mouth. How can I help you?"

"Bit awkward Tom," I started, washing down my own succulent slice of pie with a swig of beer. "But we all know that you have a bit of success with women."

"Don't believe everything you hear Nick," he grinned at me modestly. "I do Ok, but I'm single, got a good job and a nice car. You know."

"The fact that your family owns half the county helps as well maybe."

"A good deal less than half Nick," he grinned back at me. "But it doesn't go amiss."

"Fine," I acknowledged his statement. "But I need a bit of advice mate. I need to talk to someone who's still playing the field."

"But you're married aren't you Tom?" He demanded, giving me a somewhat disproving look. "You don't want to be getting involved in something that you might regret. Take it from me mate, it might seem exciting to be foot free and fancy, but if I had the chance of a lovely wife to go home to every night, then I'd jump on it."

"Word is Tom," I replied. "That you may have someone in mind."

"Christ Nick," he burst out with a chuckle. "You can't keep anything secret here can you."

"Just what I've heard around the office," I confided.

"Maybe, and maybe it's true," he went on. "But that's my affair and it seems that you have one of your own. Take my advice Nick and don't get involved in any extra marital affairs. It doesn't pay and only leads to tears."

"Actually Tom," I responded. "It's not me."

"Not you?"

"No."

"Then who are we talking about?"

"My wife."

"What! Who?"

"My wife," I answered him. "I've only got one."

"You mean your wife is ...... Oh shit!"

He sat back in his chair as it dawned on him just what my problem was.

"But how can I help you Nick?" He demanded, putting his knife and fork down to concentrate on my needs. "I don't even know your wife. I've never met her."

"She didn't come to the Christmas party," I concurred sadly.

"But what can I do to help mate?" he asked, leaning forward as if to comfort me. "I disapprove of cheaters Nick. I've never been married myself, but my brother's wife had an affair and it nigh on destroyed him."

"It's not been easy for me," I sighed. "Not since I found out."

"But how can I help Nick," he repeated. "I have a knack with women I'll admit, but I don't see how I can help you."

"Well there is something you could do Tom," I told him, hopefully.

"Anything mate," he offered. "What can I do to help?"

"Well," I started to say, hesitating before going on. "You could stop fucking her!"

His mouth opened, but other than a vague clicking sound, nothing came out.

The next few minutes were a little bit fraught, much as I suspected that they might be. I sat there quietly while Tom registered quite what I'd said, and even more, quite what the implications were.

"Stop fucking her?" He asked nervously.

"Yes please Tom," I answered simply.

"Your wife?"

"That's right."

"But I'm only seeing one girl at the moment Nick. That's Heather."

"Heather Jones," I confirmed. "My wife, Tom."

"Heather Jones," he confirmed, nodding his head absently.

"Nick Jones -- Heather Jones," I pointed out the obvious. "We're married. Have been for seven years."

"She never said," Tom struggled to tell me.

"She wouldn't," I confirmed.

"Told me she was getting divorced Nick," he went on, shaking his head in disbelief. "Told me that her husband had ran off to the Isle of Wight with some girl to join an artistic commune of some sort."

"Never been there since I was a kid," I let him know. "And I can't paint for peanuts."

"So you're not getting divorced then?"

"Not to my knowledge Tom. Not yet anyway, unless she did it without mentioning it to me."

"You're still together?" he asked, frowning.

"Not even separated I'm afraid Tom," I was forced to inform him. "We're still living 'happily' together. Slept together last night and even had a bit of a session."

"You fucked her? You fucked .... Heather?"

"Fraid so."

"But .... But .... But ....."

"Sorry for fucking your girlfriend Tom," I told him.

"Sorry for fucking your wife Nick," he responded. "But I don't understand how it could have happened."

"Cock," I told him.

"No honestly Tom," he misunderstood my comment. "Why would she do that?"

"Cock," I repeated. "From what I heard her saying to her sister on the phone, yours' is a couple of inches longer than mine."

"Sorry Nick."

"It's OK Tom," I consoled him. "You were born that way. Not your fault."

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We sat there chatting the two of us, finished our pie and chips and had another beer. We consoled one another and if anything he was more upset than I was. Apparently he'd actually broached the subject of marriage and Heather had more or less agreed, so perhaps the divorce that she hadn't thought to mention to me was more imminent than I'd suspected.

"What we going to do Nick?" Tom asked eventually on the edge of despair. "An hour ago I was in love with her, and now I hate the bitch."

"Join the club," I invited him. "We could play with her mind a bit. Piss her off and leave her with nothing."

"How?" he demanded, sold on the idea before I'd even explained my plan.

"You set a date to get hitched as soon as her divorce comes through," I set out my thoughts. "She'll ask for a divorce straight away and I'll agree but with a settlement in my favour. Then when it comes through we'll both dump the silly bitch."

"But you think she'll agree to your terms?" Tom demanded.

"With your extra two inches and half the county to look forward to, why would she worry about what I've got? She'll leap at anything I offer for a quick settlement."

"But then I've got to keep being around her," he pointed out. "I'm not sure I can do that."

"Heather's a great fuck isn't she?"

"I guess so."

"Gives a fantastic blow job?"

"Certainly does."

"Then what's the problem?"

"No problem when you put it that way," he granted me thoughtfully. "But meanwhile I need a woman that I can have some sort of emotional attachment with Nick. Sure I can have sex with a cheater like Heather for a while, but I need to be setting up her replacement."

"How about the new girl in accounts," I mentioned, sort of casually like, as if I had only noticed in passing; as if I hadn't been spending a bit more time down there than normal.

"Which one? The blonde or the redhead," he questioned me, cheering up a bit and confirming that his obsession with Heather hadn't entirely switched off his fabled hunting mood.

"Both of them."

"Both of them?"

"Yes Tom," I confirmed. "One for you and the other for me."

"Which one do you want?"

"The blonde with big tits, or the redhead with legs that go on forever," I reminded him. "I'm not exactly fussed."

"Sounds fine to me," he laughed, and ordered yet another beer for the both of us.

"Cheers," I toasted him with my refilled pint. "To the future."

"Cheers Nick," he toasted me back. "I think I'll go for the tits if that's Ok with you."

"I'm more than happy with the legs Tom," I confirmed happily. "Can't wait to get them wrapped round me."

THE END!

Well, not actually of course, but everything went exactly as planned. Tom ended up marrying Mary, the blonde with the tits that is, and now she's part of the county set and very happy as well. I'm now engaged to Sandy. No, not the one with the legs, but it is her sister. She's got legs as well of course, but ....... Oh bugger it, I'm rambling. You know what I mean.

You've probably already guessed that Heather came out of it badly, but then again, she's no longer my problem is she?

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Short and sweet as I promised and I hope it amused you.