Not much sex in this work of fiction. If stroke material is what you're after, move along.
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June Carter and Merle Kilgore: "The taste of love is sweet, when souls like ours meet. I fell for you like a little child, oh and flames got wild."
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My name is Seth Coger. My marriage to Nadia, as I suspect with all marriages, started with hopes and dreams of living happily ever after. As is the case with about half of today's marriages, ours ended in flames.
When you first start dating someone, you don't start off the conversation with 'Are you rich?' That might not have been the first thing Nadia asked me, but it was in the first ten minutes. At the time I was in my fifth year of college and had barely enough money to pay rent and eat poorly.
I responded "No, remember, I told you my name is Seth, not Rich."
It took Nadia a few seconds to realize that I had 'misunderstood' what she'd asked.
"No, I mean do you have money?"
"I said I'd buy you a drink, but don't go overboard on me."
Nadia was getting flustered "Jerk!"
Normally when I'm called a jerk, or most other single and hyphenated words, the woman either throws her drink at me or simply leaves. Nadia just stared at me.
"Na aw aw dee uh, I'm a fifth year student racking up sizable student debt. You'll have to take your gold digging expedition elsewhere as you've struck a dry hole."
"I'm sorry Seth. I really like you, but my parents get all bent out of shape if I date someone they think is beneath me. They have money, but the men they'd like me to associate with are the real gold diggers. These guys don't care a thing about me, but would be happy to spend my money."
"Tell you what. When I meet your parents, I'll tell them I clean port-a-potties for a living. When the shock of that sinks in, I'll tell them I was just kidding and that I'm not even that good as I only have a Masters in Chemistry."
Nadia was perplexed. After downing the rest of her rum and cola "Can I squeeze your piggy bank and get a refill?"
"Hey, if I'm going to be splurging, I WILL be expecting a kiss."
Nadia giggled, got up from her chair, and plopped down in my lap "Fuck my parents."
After her tongue defeated mine in a quick game of lip lock "No thanks. That's too kinky even for me."
And so our yearlong courtship began. The pre-nuptial agreement her father drew up was quite punitive. Swamp dwellers like me were nothing but a bunch of cheating stealing up to no gooders. I had no qualms about signing it.
Sex with Nadia was always fairly bland. Coming from a wealthy family doesn't bestow bedroom skills upon you. I can't say that I'm a natural born lover nor am I a lothario, but we seem to fit together well enough.
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Nadia's family has a lot of money. She has two brothers and a sister. Each is convinced the others are trying to steal their share of the gold. One of the real estate ventures, which succeeded wildly for Nadia, became a thorn in the paw. Her father had set up dozens of these things, and distributed them equally amongst the siblings. No one ever really knew if they were doing better or worse than the others.
That changed when the state decided to make a major diversion to where two state highways intersected. Nadia's real estate venture made several million. When her legal team convinced the state to condemn the adjoining property for open space, the shit hit the fan. That property was owned by Nadia's brother Steve's real estate partnership.
He sued Nadia, but lost. The family dinners are now anything but friendly. It was just a matter of time before Steve found a way to get revenge.
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Six years into our marriage Nadia told me that she didn't think she was happy, and wanted a divorce. Can you argue with that? No dear, you are happy! See what I mean. Nadia assured me that she had remained faithful throughout our marriage. Since we have a very punitive pre-nuptial agreement, I assumed she would be smart enough to forego carnal pleasures outside of marriage.
We lived comfortably, but I personally didn't have the resources to launch a full scale investigation. I didn't have to. Those with money seem to fight dirty if you take some of their money. If Nadia and Steve had been on better terms, he might not have provided me with the thumb drive containing pictures and videos of her betrayal. Clear evidence that Nadia had been grooming her next husband for at least the last two years. Apparently in her mind our marriage ended a few years ago.
Watching the videos was tough. The pain and jealousy of seeing someone you didn't want to share, give herself so freely to another, is something that ripped me apart. The difficult thing for me to understand was that the sex with her paramour was just as bland as what I'd experienced with her. It didn't matter, trading up, down, or straight across had the same effect. Once was more than enough for me to seek a divorce. This had been going on for two years.
Since the documented infidelity triggered the pre-nuptial infidelity clause, I was in line to benefit greatly. My lawyer had me believing this was a foregone conclusion. It wasn't.
The divorce played out in the news. It was very toxic. Nadia turned into a complete vindictive shrew. She hired prostitutes to try to entice me into having sex. With what I had to lose, it was easy to remain celibate as the divorce wound its way through the courts.
Nadia and her family love the press. Feeling that she could milk her moment of fame, our divorce was amplified by the media attention. I believe that her press secretary started leaking documents. Her strategy was the 'he did it too' approach. Unfortunately for her, I hadn't, which meant I didn't.
Once the attorneys had milked it for all it was worth, the divorce was granted. I am now in that circle of those with money. No wife or family, but money. They say money can't buy you happiness, but it can buy ice cream, so maybe you can?
In the end, the pre-nuptial favored me and I walked away with money that she really wouldn't miss anyway. From having never spoken to the press, to over twenty interviews during the course of the hearings, I was ready for some serious down time. It wasn't long before I was headed to the beach to soak up some sun.
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I'd never been to Belize. It was recommended by my divorce attorney. The cabin door closed and the flight attendants went into their spiel. I desperately needed this vacation. All of the seats in first class were filled. As is the norm, we all tried our best to never make eye contact or say a word. You would think we shared a common bond, sitting in first class, but it always seems like we're afraid that someone is going to yank us up by the collar and send us back to the commoners.
I was greeted by a very American limo driver holding up a sign with my name on it. He'd been living here for six years and loved it. It was a short distance to the hotel, but the roads here are not highways. Due to traffic delays, bicycles might have beaten us.
After my VIP check-in, I grabbed a drink and wandered around the nearby beach. It was too late in the day to sunbathe, but the setting sun still felt good. Returning to the hotel, I found the restaurant lightly populated.
A very young looking woman approached my table. She had dark eyes made even darker by the black eye shadow. With her straight black hair, her pale skin looked ghost like. She was also wearing black lipstick, and had piercings in her lips, nose, and tongue. She reminded me of a Halloween zombie costume. Without saying a word, she reached down and cupped my hand.
In a somewhat monotone voice "Seth, my name is Sofie. It is very nice to meet you."
I didn't try to reclaim my hand "Sofie, do you work for the hotel?"
"No sir. See you around" then she gave me a peck on the cheek, turned quickly, and left.
I smirked. What the hell was that? My dinner arrived a few minutes later and I dined in peace. While nursing some Irish Cream, the zombie chick returned.
As she had done previously, she reached out and cupped my hand "Seth, my name is Roxie. Nice to meet you."
"I thought you said your name was Sofie?"
"That's my sister. See you around" then she also gave me a peck on the cheek, turned quickly, and left.
I smirked. They've already multiplied. Is this some kind of game they're playing? The first one who gets me to freak out wins? I signed for my meal and headed for the elevators. Just when I thought things couldn't get any stranger, the zombie mother joined the wait for the elevator. The age in her eyes, along with the lack of baby fat in her face, told me she was much older than the other two. She had piercings in her eyebrows, but other than that, the girls were clones of this lady. Or was she a clone of them? Is this some local cult?