Your 10 to My 5

Dear Reader, this is a very long one, I always go on too long I know. This one got away from me. This is my first LW story so be gentle with me. This isn't really a BTB story it is more of a lost opportunities story. There isn't a lot of sex in this one, just a couple scenes that were germane to the story. I was trying to paint the picture of the pain and loneliness that divorce and infidelity bring and what I would do if I were to go through this. Like everyone else, I have my own story which, went nothing like this.

All of the characters are 18 or older and are figments of my imagination. The rights to this story belong to me, and the editing was done by me. I take the blame for bad spelling, bad grammar, and anything else that irritates you with this story and I never met a comma I didn't like. It is fiction, the timing doesn't make sense, unfortunately, our courts don't work this fast, I haven't spent a lot of time in court so I know I got things wrong.

I hope you enjoy this tale, it is intended as entertainment. Please let me know with comments and votes if you enjoyed it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated. JJ1

*****

As he walked into the house he heard the noises... Noises he knew well but didn't expect. The reason for him being home early wasn't important, he just was. He knew those moans well, moans that he normally worked hard for. They were the sounds that he got when he touched her just right, that secret spot inside, or working her clit from side to side just right. That was when her back would arch, her jaw would clench and then she would just dissolve into a puddle of flesh, waiting for the next touch, the next rise to begin. She knew he'd continue, because she knew he loved those sounds, the sights, of his beautiful wife approaching orgasm.

He opened the door hoping to find her with one of their toys. He thought of them as 'their' toys because they enjoyed playing with them together, causing pleasure, always together as far as he knew, but what did he really know? That was his kink, her pleasure. Even when they just played, it was filled with love, total focus on each other as man and woman. He thought she loved him too. He so loved how they focused solely on each other when they played. His love died when he opened the door.

He saw her legs and auburn hair splayed on the bed, her hair like a halo around her angelic face, her light blue eyes closed. And his pale, white ass, pumping up and down... He didn't recognize the ass, he just knew it wasn't his.

"Huh! Well this is fun..."

Pumper stopped, her eyes flew open, her hand to her mouth as pumper tried to roll over in mid pump.

"John. It's not..."

"Save it." He took a step forward and pumper started to scramble away. John grabbed him by his thinning hair and yanked him back.

"I want to kill you." John said quietly, looking him directly in the eye. "Raise your chin."

"You can't hit me... I'll sue you."

"Fuck you, raise your chin." Calm, even toned. No hint at the anger that existed just below the surface.

"I swear to god I'll sue you. Do you know who I am?"

"Think I give a fuck? I'll tell you what, you raise your chin and I'll hit you once... or maybe twice, I dunno, I might go for the trifecta. You don't... and after I knock you the fuck out, I'll kick the living shit out of your balls. Your dick will never work again. Your choice."

Pumper slowly raised his chin grimacing, thinking he could absorb this. John smiled and smashed his fist into the mans' nose, raising again to hit him in the eye, holding his head upright, watching the eyes roll back John hit him again, using everything he had, raising up on his toes to get his full body weight into it, watching blood spurt from the shattered lip. John let go and Pumpers head fell to the bed, his body sliding down off the bed onto the floor like a dead snake, seemingly in slow motion. "Ow shit that hurt." John held his hand to his stomach.

"Oh my god John! What did you do? Brett? Brett!"

"I have a lot of questions for you... but not now. I have to leave before I do to you what I did to him. I just want to make sure this concept gets through to you... Fuck you!" His voice was soft, quiet and menacing. John didn't yell when he got mad, his voice became soft, a trick he'd learned in business. When he talked softly people had to focus to hear him.

"John, do you have any idea who he is?" Her eyes wide, her mouth hidden by her hands.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told him... do you think I really give a fuck? How the fuck could you do this? In our bed? You fucking shit stain! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you a hundred times!"

John turned and started down the hall, hearing Maggy begging him to stop and talk to her.

"Leave me alone." John walked out the front door, hopped in his pickup truck and drove to the nearest liquor store. A bottle of bourbon his only companion, John parked in the back of the Walmart parking lot and watched the traffic come and go as he sipped his bourbon straight from the bottle.

His phone started to ring and he reached over and turned the ringer off, glancing at the screen as the phone vibrated, Maggie was trying to reach him. He ignored it the first three times and ignored the messages coming through as texts. Finally, concluding he'd get no peace until he dealt with this, he finally answered the phone.

"Hello."

"John where are you? Come home so we can talk, we need to get past this."

"Is he dead?"

"Is who dead? Oh you mean Brett? No, he woke up a few minutes after you left. He's pissed, made a bunch of threats of what he's going to do to you and left."

"Good to know... Did ya fuck him again? No, never mind, I don't care."

"John! How could you ask me that?"

"The fact that I watched you fucking away in my bed not withstanding, I have no idea how I could ask the fucking slut I married that question... Gotta go, don't call again."

"John! Where are y..."

He disconnected and went back to communing with John Barley Corn.

He woke the next morning and felt the aches and pains that come from sleeping in a pickup truck. He didn't think of going to a hotel until after he was too fucked up to drive. In some way, he thought that a hotel bed was too good, that he needed to suffer some more. He felt like shit, his mouth dry and foul tasting. He needed coffee and to piss, not exactly in that order. He looked at his phone, realizing it was 7:30, grunting at the kink in his neck, he stumbled out of the truck into Walmart, buying a pair of jeans and a new shirt for work. He drove to the office and changed in the truck.

Sitting at his desk, office door closed, he looked again at his phone. There were 37 texts, 20 emails and three missed calls all from Maggie. Bob walked into John's office, waved his hand in front of his face. "What the fuck!? Do you drink it or bathe in it... Smells like Maker's Mark 2019, such a good year."

John smiled for the first time. "Bad day yesterday, worse night." He hung his head. "Fuck."

"What's up buddy? Maggie pissed about something? You show up smelling like this she'll be even more pissed."

"Fuck Maggie." John looked at Bob. "You never did right? You never fucked her did you?"

"You're kidding right? Yeah I fucked her, right before you tore my fucking head off and dumped my body in the ocean!" he said sarcastically. "What's up man?"

"You know I came back early, wasn't supposed to be back until Friday, right? She was fucking in my fucking bed when I got there!" He put his head back with a groan of pure anguish. "My fucking bed!"

"Aw shit! You're sure?"

"Stood in the door in shock for a moment or two, look" he held his hand out showing the abrasions where pumpers teeth cut his skin. "Punched the shit out of him."

"Aw shit, someone from the law firm?"

"Don't know who the fuck he is. He wasn't answering questions when I left."

In a soft voice Bob asked..."Did you kill him?"

"Unfortunately no... He's going to come after me, the balding fucker..."

"Would've been better if you killed him, a crime of passion, now, if you kill him it's premeditated. You'll fry."

"I know, just can't handle this man! Fuck! I loved her. Why?" The anguish in his voice was painful to hear. "I gave her everything she wanted, loved her more than I thought was possible! Fuck! Why?" a solitary tear sliding slowly, unheeded down his cheek.

"Have you asked her?"

"No, don't want to talk to her."

"You're never going to get answers unless you do."

"I know, don't want to know the answers bad enough. Fuck this, I need to disappear for a while."

"You're leaving here? We worked so hard to make this place happen, we've been working on this since we got out of school. Don't give up on it, I can't afford to buy you out."

"We'll figure something out, we have time, I'm getting on the boat this afternoon, I'll give you a call when I get there."

"John wait! Where are you going?"

"Won't know till I get there. I'll call you. Keep paying my salary, when you think it's getting inequitable call me, we'll work something out. I'll have the cell phone on if I'm in range. I'll keep working on designs, just from the boat or something, when I get settled in somewhere. I'll send you my new Bank account number for the direct deposit once I get it set up."

John gathered up the stuff he thought he'd need and walked back to his truck, after a quick stop to at the bank, new account set up, a book of starter checks in hand and a quick text to Bob, he drove it down to the marina. The dock sounded hollow as he walked down to his slip. The Down Deep was a small 33 foot Grady White, 11'6" wide. The cabin was small but big enough for him. He'd bought it with an upgraded fuel tank, 560 gallons of gas. It drank fast and a lot but the twin Yamaha 350s definitely pushed it through the water.

He settled back with a drink, and looked at the GPS screens, calculating the distances, fuel usage, provisions... A stop in Virginia Beach, another stop in Charleston SC, Jacksonville Florida, Cape Canaveral, Fort Lauderdale and then the leg to Nassau. A couple hundred miles per day he should be there in a week, figure two with weather breaks. A low coming out of the Gulf of Mexico, if it went east he'd have to ride it out a couple days, but if it continued north it would miss him. The planning distracting him from the pain. He just had to get out of there soon. He had a moment of fear as he thought of being found before he left. Once at sea no one would find him for a while.

He knew the coming week was going to be painful. The only thing to do while he rode down was think. He thought about the danger, making a voyage like this alone... but decided he didn't really give a shit. It wouldn't be the worst way to go or maybe it would... he just didn't fucking care, couldn't hurt much more than this. As if on cue his phone rang, he let it go to voice mail and shortly after heard the ping that told him he got another text too.

He read the last of the messages. "You have to talk to me, don't just walk out on us." His anger went from the relative calm of not being in the forefront of his mind to livid instantly. Don't walk out on us? Did she think about that when she decided to fuck Pumper? Didn't she walk out when she fucked Pumper? He double clicked her number and the phone started to ring.

"John! Where are you? Where the fuck did you go? I've been worried sick about you all night and now all day! Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter, I need some answers..."

"John just come home and we can talk, please, don't give up on us."

"Don't have to, you already did. Remember when we had the "event" in school? Remember what we decided then? It was a mistake, I guess that was you showing your colors, I should've listened to my gut then. Instead I listened to my heart and guess what? I got fucked... again... and not in a good way."

Maggie

John was away on another of his trips. Maggie sat at her desk looking at the picture of John in the nice gold frame on her credenza. Tan, in a T shirt, holding that godawful fish with the most wonderful smile on his face. A Marlin. The muscles in his arm standing out, not huge but forceful looking, like ropes under his skin. He was always out fishing or traveling for work. She'd gone with him a few times, but he always went to places like Mountain Home Arkansas, Monroeville Alabama. She went with him when he went to Mexico, thinking she would sun in the hotel while he worked but he went to some shit hole in the oil fields 40 miles north of Guatemala. She was miserable the whole time, so that was the last time she traveled with him. She knew she was a bitch then, grumping while he was out in the oil fields helping deal with the equipment that did something with the drilling muds. He came back each day exhausted from the 100 degree heat and she forced him to take her out partying.

He didn't want her to work but she needed to do something to keep her mind occupied. She went to law school for a couple of years, got her degree, but didn't want to study hard enough to take the BAR so she settled for a paralegal job. The attorneys were so thrilling, their big cases, law suits, document after document that would pile up on their desks. Phones constantly ringing, the environment was so energized she found it exciting. She had enjoyed the energy for ten years now.

She got called into to one of the junior partners' office. She was built well. She worked hard at it and knew how to strut. She knew that looks and personality would get you the fun cases, the good work. Not that she would do anything, but the hint was enough. Being a little eye candy with a brain was a definitive advantage.

"Maggie, we have an interesting case that's on the fast track, it's a land deal with a land use permit that requires city approval. I need someone committed to it, willing to work overtime, we have to get ready for the City Planning Commission meeting. Are you interested?"

She sat on the couch, and crossed her legs, showing a little thigh and watched his eyes linger on them a bit, pointing her toes and inwardly smiling as her calves flexed a bit.

"It sounds interesting, where is it?"

"Just outside of DC in Maryland. The zoning is right so we don't have to fight the county, just the City for grading permits. It's going to take a fair amount of hours, I could use your help. Interested?

"Sure sounds fun!"

She really didn't understand how she got here from there. Late hours in the office, for weeks, then they decided to go out to dinner, first at the deli, then nice restaurants, then clubs. The dancing was fun, a nice break. John was out of town again, Monday through Thursday scheduled to come home Friday afternoon. She knew the dancing wouldn't pass the spouse test, Brett held her close, and it was exciting when she realized the man wanted her. It wouldn't hurt to push things a bit would it?

She rubbed her belly against the hardness that was pressing against her and heard the subtle moan in her ear. She felt his hands on her back sliding slowly down, cupping the cheeks of her ass. She had kissed him before and didn't stop him now. His hand slid to her hip, down her leg and back up gathering her skirt as it slid slowly back up, right there on the dance floor she felt his fingers softly pass over her clit, just a tingle.

She should have stopped him then, she should've never been in this position to start with but she was. She froze as his fingers became more insistent knowing what she was allowing was wrong. Just this once, she wanted to feel the excitement and she spread her legs just a little wider as she rocked side to side to the beat of the music. Slow, sensuous, she felt his finger slide under the band of her thong to touch the side of her nether lips, parting them, she knew he could feel her wetness. Oh god how she wanted this.

"We can't do this Brett. We're married and not to each other."

"I know we are, but I know you want this as bad as I do." The speed of his finger increased at the same rate as her clit hardened, the ridge becoming more prominent as he rubbed her just north of her bud. He worried the ridge back and forth, the sparks increasing as she neared her peak.

"Brett, no... please, not here... Please..." Her world disintegrated as the sharp sparks emanated from her core, fanning out to make her arms and legs shake, her arm around his neck was the only thing that kept her from falling to the floor, her moans in Bretts' ear were the perfect aphrodisiac to him as she pressed against him. What was the harm she thought, John would never know.

John

He checked the weather, calm enough for him to get to Virginia Beach which would get him away from here. Rudy inlet wasn't too bad. If he fueled there he could get to Charleston on his next leg and avoid the Oregon inlet in North Carolina. Food on board after a quick trip to the grocery store, one last look at his phone he lowered the engines pulled the ropes on board and pulled out of his slip. A Glance back at his truck, he liked that truck and felt as if he was abandoning it, like walking away from an old friend. It wasn't the only friendship he mourned as he motored out of the marina, pushing the throttle forward coming up on plane he set the autopilot to take him down the Chesapeake.

Once he got the boat tied up to the guest slip he got his phone out. 54 Texts, 30 emails and five more calls from Maggie, he figured he had to deal with this.

"John! Where are you? You have to listen to me! It didn't mean anything!"

"...you're talking about our marriage of course." It wasn't a question.

"No! It was just sex! It didn't mean anything."

"It meant you're a liar... that I can't trust you and it meant our marriage is over. Is that what sex between us meant? Nothing? When did it start?"

"John, please come home, please? We need to talk."

"Ain't coming home."

"I'll come to you! Where are you?"

"Away, where you won't find me."

"You left town? How... where did you go?"

"Away. You tore my heart out. I can't stand the thought of you, I'll never get rid of the... the... vision... of his ass pumping away on you." John's voice cracked. "Ahhhh! Fuck you! Fuck you again! Don't call me. I'm dead to you. Live your life, fuck pumper all you want. I'm gone."

"John please, please talk to me, please don't go, god please!"

"Bye Maggie, have a nice life."

Maggie

They walked to the table, and she sat breathless. This was bad, oh my god what did she do. Brett leaned over and kissed her cheek, his hand once again sliding up her leg. "Let's go somewhere we can be more comfortable babe. John's away and Barb doesn't expect me, come on let's go. You know this has been coming for a while now..." Maggie was in shock but rose when he pulled her, following him to his car. "We can get yours in the morning..."

She reached in her bag and checked her phone on the short ride to the house that she shared with John. He had called while she was dancing. It wasn't the first time that had happened but this time she had a feeling of fear, anxiousness on a level she had never felt before rose in her and she had second thoughts, again.

She started to get angry, what does he expect? He's always traveling, goes fishing when he's home during the season, fuck him! He'll never know, I'll do this once, get it out of my system. I'll pack it all into one night and then never again. She vowed to herself to get it all in tonight, every uninhibited thing she ever wanted to do. John would never know.

She leaned over and lowered Brett's zipper sliding her hand into his pants. She couldn't help comparing him to John. He was hard but she kept waiting for it to keep growing. It didn't. At that point it didn't matter to her just an idle observation.

They kissed in the driveway, and once she got her key in the door they went directly upstairs to the bedroom. There was no feeling in the act, just base raw sex. And while Maggie tried things she always thought would be sexy, exciting, there was one thing missing... love. It wasn't John, and she found herself wanting to get away. What had she been thinking? How could she get out of this, get away? She was distracted, feeling the action but no emotion, the pleasure was surface, not building at all.