Marital Lease

I was just about to leave my office at 6:00 p. m. when my work phone rang. I picked it up without thinking. It was Connie. In a normal voice she said "I was very surprised to be served with divorce papers already Brian. We haven't even talked yet."

I was tempted to just hang up -- but I knew from the experience with Denise that I'd have to talk to her sooner or later so I gritted my teeth. "There's no need to talk, Connie. You knew how important fidelity was to me when we got married, and in view of your first husband cheating on you I can't believe you don't understand how devastating this is to me."

The prolonged silence on the other end of the phone made me realize what a fool I'd been -- Connie was lying to me when she said that her first husband cheated on her -- she had cheated on him! After the prolonged silence she finally spoke.

"Look, Brian, I'm sorry that I didn't live up to your expectations. But you know that we're good together, and a little meaningless sex shouldn't breakup what we have."

"Connie, your mind is on a different planet than mine; please have your attorney contact mine and let's get our charade of a marriage over quickly." I said "Bye" and hung up the phone as she was starting to say something else.

On Saturday I got a shitty furnished efficiency apartment that leased by the week and tried to keep busy Saturday night and Sunday. I almost wanted to get drunk, but never having actually been drunk in my life I didn't know how it would affect me, so instead I just called family and friends and commiserated.

If I thought that the divorce from Connie would be easy, I was delusional. She fought it tooth and nail; her attorney used every delaying tactic known to mankind and unfortunately got a sympathetic judge who Sandra could do nothing with. Even though out of sympathy for me Sandra had cut her rates, and even though I made good money, considering that I was paying for my fleabag apartment in addition to half the mortgage and utilities for the condo, I was running out of money.

After the third marriage counselor had been appointed and I could no longer stomach looking at Connie and listening to her bullshit platitudes about "modern relationships" and "love being so much different than sex," I told my supervisors that I wanted a leave of absence since I was likely going to be thrown into jail. I talked with them for an hour, and after they realized that I'd be quitting if they didn't agree, made arrangements to officially give me no sabbatical payments but to give me several hundred dollars a week under the table. I had all of my possessions from the condo and my fleabag apartment put in storage, and stayed at a hotel until my expected arrest for contempt.

I will say that Connie and the counselor tried to give me a break when I missed the first two sessions, but after I made it clear that I was no longer a marionette the counselor advised the judge of my intransigence. I went to the contempt hearing only because Sandra begged me to. She was almost sorry that she did. I showed up dressed in casual -- almost ratty -- clothes. Sandra just raised her eyebrows.

"Mr. Marteen, the counselor advises me that you have skipped the first two sessions," the foul wrinkled judge said while peering over her bifocals.

"Yeah -- you know this is the third counselor that you've sent me to, and my sessions with her will be just as worthless as with the other two. Do you get some sort of a kickback from them? Is that why you keep sending me to them when there is no hope that I'll take my slutty fucking wife back?"

"How dare you use that language in my court or question my honesty; I'll hold you in contempt," the judge spat out as her face flushed crimson.

"Yeah, well I have complete contempt for this fucking kangaroo court so that will just make us even," I spat as I turned to Connie and her attorney and gave them the finger.

Actually the jail cell that I spent the next month in was not much worse than the fleabag apartment I had been in, although the food was bad. The judge pulled me back before her every week asking if I was going to apologize and abide by her order for counselling. She didn't like it when each time my response was "Sure -- as long as you apologize first for your asinine past rulings, and as soon as my slut wife apologizes for fucking whomever meets her fancy."

Connie came to visit me three times. The first time I ignored her and didn't speak. The second time I told her that we were done and got up and walked out. The third time I swore and screamed at her so loudly that I actually detected fear in her eyes as I was being pulled away by three burly jailers.

After my third weekly meeting with Connie and appearance before the judge, Sandra came to see me with some welcome news. "Connie finally realizes that there is no hope of reconciliation and apparently she is more susceptible to the verbal abuse you've been laying on her than is readily apparent. Also, I've filed a motion to have the judge recuse herself, and she is tired of fighting with you too so she is granting it. Connie's attorney made a settlement proposal that isn't really reasonable, but close to it. Here it is."

Sandra and I discussed it for the next twenty minutes. While it wasn't really fair to me, since there was no maintenance and since I would get half the proceeds of the condo sale if it ever was sold, I agreed to it. When I was released from jail I profusely thanked my supervisors, and buried myself in my work.

***********

About two months after my divorce from Connie was final -- at a point where I was horny as hell and staying sane only because of how hard I was applying myself to my work, and because I was training so hard in jujitsu that I now had a second degree black belt, I got a call from Sandra.

After some small talk she got to the point. "I have something to discuss with you -- let's meet for dinner; I'm buying," she said.

"Sure -- when and where, although after how you cut your fees for my last fiasco I won't let you buy," I replied.

"WOW, you're a tough negotiator -- or jailbird," she snickered. Then she gave me the name and address of the restaurant and the time on Friday night to meet her there.

I was a little taken aback when Sandra walked into the restaurant; while I had always noticed that she was an attractive woman -- not in Denise's or Connie's league in the looks department, but beautiful nevertheless -- it was the first time that I saw her with her hair loose on her shoulders, no glasses, and in a cocktail dress. The view as nice -- really nice!

"You look great," I honestly greeted her as we hugged. We caught up, had a nice meal, and then moved to a remote table in the bar area of the restaurant. Sandra gave our waitress $100 and said "bring us two club sodas, and keep the change -- but don't bother us for the next hour." The waitress was more than happy to oblige.

"So now for the business of the evening," Sandra grinned.

"I'm ready," I replied, trying my best not to look at her exposed thighs -- which looked really, really good with her dress riding half-way up them.

"You're such a sucker for beautiful but flawed women, Brian. I don't think that there's much hope for you regaining trust and avoiding another disastrous divorce unless you do something different. What I'm proposing is something that I've recently dreamed up, that I call a 'marital lease.'"

"What the hell is that?" I mused out loud.

"It's a contract that is more than a prenup that is for a particular period of time and sets forth the obligations of the parties once that time period is up, so that the type of acrimonious divorces that are your specialty are avoided."

"I'm listening," I said crossing my arms, and making a renewed effort not to stare at her thighs.

"Here's how a marital lease could work: You and your next hearthrob commit yourselves to marriage for a period of years — one year, five years, 10 years, whatever term suits you. The marital lease could be renewed at the end of the term however many times that you and your spouse mutually agree to. It could end up lasting a lifetime if the relationship is good and worth continuing. But if the relationship is bad, you can go your separate ways at the end of the term. The messiness of divorce is avoided and the end can be as simple as vacating a rental unit," Sandra enthusiastically described with hand gestures, including one unfortunate one where she pulled up her dress momentarily to scratch an itch on her thigh near her crotch.

"What...what...about asset splits," I mumbled, trying to purge my horny mind of her upper thigh scratch.

"A marital lease could describe the property of you and your spouse in detail, so separate ownership is clear. If you wished to buy something together, or share ownership, you could keep a schedule of these items and decide as you go along how these would be disposed of in the event of a partner's death or if you do not renew the marital lease," she responded.

"What about kids?" I asked, suddenly realizing that my collar was tight and that she had to have noticed me ogling her thighs.

"If you and your wife have a child, there could be an option to have the lease automatically continue until the child reaches the age of majority. Of course, relationships change with family additions and an extended term may not be feasible. But considering the number of children born out of wedlock these days, wouldn't it be better for parents to at least commit to a marital lease, even if it doesn't last a lifetime?" she said with a smile, looking alternately between my eyes and where my eyes were focused on her thighs.

"Sounds...uh...reasonable," I gulped and then took a swig of my club soda.

"Finally, your marital lease could also imitate a real-estate lease through the use of security deposits. You and your spouse could each deposit a sum of money with an independent third party to ensure compliance with the marital lease. A further step could be to authorize the third party to arbitrate disputes between you and your wife. Given your history and the trust issues I'm sure that you're experiencing now, this type of deal is tailor made for you, Brian," she concluded with a smile.

"Sounds good," I beamed. "Now I just have to find the right woman."

"From the way that you've been ogling my legs I may be able to help with that too," she smiled, placing her hand on mine.

At first I gulped. Then I smiled too. "Busted," I said.

Sandra removed a piece of folded paper from her purse, along with a pen. "I've always liked you Brian; and I hate cheaters, like my husband and my last boyfriend were. I'd like to see if we're sexually compatible, but I can't unless you fire me as your attorney."

When she finished with that bomb she stared into my eyes and held the pen out. When she moved her hand over my cock -- which was so hard that I was sure that my pants zipper would bust any second -- I grabbed the pen from her and scribbled my signature where there was a little yellow sticky arrow that said "Sign Here."

Sandra smiled, folded up the paper and returned it and the pen to her purse and whispered in my ear "I took a cab here. Why don't you drive me home and we can start testing."

Sandra laughingly pointed out two red lights that I ran, and every speed limit that I exceeded in the ten minute drive to her house. I carried her through the threshold and as we kissed we shed our clothes in the vestibule. The floor was hard ceramic tile,however, so I picked her up and looked for a more practical location for what was going to happen next -- a big fluffy couch in the living room met my criteria. I was so fucking horny, and her body -- especially her crotch and thighs -- looked so good that there was no way that I could wait for oral -- or even perfunctory foreplay.

As Sandra lay on the sofa with her legs splayed and a diabolical look on her face I growled "Sandra I'm so fucking horny and you look so fabulous I've got to fuck you right away. I promise to treat you right after the first one.'

She pulled my face close, laid a passionate kiss on me, and snarled "Fuck away!"

She groaned as I penetrated her wet very snug pussy in one thrust. She wrapped those extraordinary thighs around my torso while I pounded the shit out of her pussy as we both started sweating profusely and swearing up a storm. My tsunami of an ejaculation rendered both of us near-comatose.

After we regained cognizance we showered together and then retired to her four poster king sized bed. That night, all day Saturday, and most of the day Sunday until we wore completely out, we found out everything sexual about each other than was possible. I was especially pleased that she loved a butt plug in her ass while being fucked doggy, and she was pleased that I loved to have my balls caressed and sucked. Her tits weren't big enough for a titty fuck, but everything else about her was prime.

*************

Unlike my relationships with Denise and Connie, there was no drama with Sandra. She was totally what-you-see is what-you-get. I fell in love with her within a week, I sublet my apartment and moved in with her within a month after our first sexual encounter, and I asked her to marry me two months after we lived together.

"I'd love to marry you," she gushed as she planted kisses all over me. "With a marital lease, of course," she snickered.

"I'll take you any way that I can get you," I snickered back.

The next day Sandra presented me with a four page document entitled "Marital Lease."

"Where do I sign," I asked.

"You have to read it, doufus," she chuckled.

"Actually, Sandra, I don't because I trust you completely," I seriously replied.

She gulped, turned over the first three pages of the document, pointed to where I should sign and date it, and then she did the same. Then I fucked her right on the kitchen table to seal the deal.

After the first two year term of the marital lease was up we both enthusiastically extended it for five more years. I had never been happier in my life -- that is until our first baby was born a year into our first extension, when I became even happier. We immediately extended our marital lease until he turned eighteen. On our second child's first year birthday we extended the lease in perpetuity.

Thank God that the third woman I found -- actually who found me -- was the charm! I don't think that I could have gone through another Denise or Connie, even with a marital lease.