The Great Escape

The Great Escape

Please understand, before you start reading, this story is long: 35,000+ words. It's not BTB and it's not RAAC either. If either of those is necessary for your enjoyment, stop now and go to another story. On the other hand, I hope you do read and enjoy. Tanglosax

Chapter One: Cora's Story

Cora was leaving work for her weekly committee meeting. She was a nurse, actually a nurse supervisor in charge of nursing in a surgical wing at Albany Medical Center in Albany, NY. She had had a busy, stressful day and looked forward to going to bed that evening with her husband Tim, for snuggling and holding each other as sleep came to knit up the raveled sleave of care.

However, she had to go to her committee meeting first. Unfortunately for her future, it was not really a committee meeting. She did have committee meetings dealing with certifications for the nursing profession, but they were scheduled once a quarter, during her regular working hours. Tonight's "committee" meeting was with Dr Mark Hanson, a new surgeon on a yearlong fellowship at her hospital. He was also married, but his wife, also a doctor, was in a residency in Baltimore. Cora and Mark had fallen in lust the first day they had met, back in September, and now in February the affair was approaching five months in length.

As she drove toward Mark's apartment, Cora was thinking it was getting close to time to end the affair. The sex had been spectacular, but it was getting a bit mundane now, and, truthfully, she wanted to spend more time and energy with her husband. She was trying not to feel guilty, or at least not too guilty, about the affair. It was the first time, well, almost the first time she had been unfaithful in the almost 27 years she and Tim had been married. But she and Tim had pledged to forsake all others; she knew that pledge meant a lot to Tim and, until Mark, had meant a lot to her. Now she thought, as she parked in front of Mark's apartment building, she needed to get through, well, really, enjoy, the next two hours with Mark and then get home and concentrate on her husband.

She walked up to Mark's apartment door, and he opened it just as she knocked. He was holding a glass of Chardonnay for her, and she accepted it gratefully.

"Hard day today?" he asked.

"Yes, I just want to relax and enjoy this glass of wine."

"How about you sip that while you undress, take a quick shower, and then lie down for a soothing massage?"

A massage really did sound good, and she needed some soothing after her hard day. "Mark, that would be great."

A few minutes later she was lying naked on his bed, and he was ladling warm massage oil down the length of her spine. He started gently rubbing it in, down her spine and then up and over the curve of her ass. She almost purred from the warm, slick oil soothing her muscles and relieving her stress. He poured a bit more oil into the crease of her ass and started rubbing it into her ass cheeks. That started her squirming a bit and then squirming more as he pushed an oily finger into her rosebud. She did like anal play, at least with Mark. She had never had the courage to let Tim know she liked anal playing and fucking. As Mark played with her ass, she thought about how to tell Tim she wanted him to fuck her ass. But that was an issue for another day, as Mark raised her ass up and slid his cock into...... her pussy. More than a bit surprising as he had certainly prepared her for ass fucking, but that was Mark: he loved to surprise her in bed. As his cock slid into her pussy, she raised her ass higher and pushed back against his slow, steady strokes. Her pussy couldn't exactly clutch his cock, but she could put some pressure on it, which increased the wet, hot friction between her pussy walls and his cock. That put her on the track to coming as she kept pushing back against him.

For Cora, orgasm came like the slow climb up to the peak of a roller coaster. Her pussy was the pulsing car of the roller coaster with a cock pushing it up, up to the peak, and then all of a sudden she was over, panting and moaning and crying a bit. Today she thought she was done, with one good orgasm, but she felt Mark speeding up his strokes, and she was able to grab on for another ride to the peak and with him slamming into her and crying out his own orgasm, she was over the top for another. They both lay there, too enervated to talk or move much. He did roll on his side, with his cock still inside her and she fell asleep, not thinking about home or Tim or her busy day or anything but the satisfaction of good sex.

"Cora, Cora, it's 7:30. You need to get up." Cora struggled to wake up and realized it was Mark shaking her. She was still at his apartment and needed to be home by 8. Cora, with some help from Mark, had created a careful regimen for the transition from his apartment to getting home to Tim. She took a quick shower but kept her hair dry. She used non-perfumed soap from home. The shower had a spray attachment, and she sprayed the inside of her pussy to wash out any semen. Then she put a pad inside her panties in case anything dripped out of her on the way home. She wore no perfume at work, so she didn't add any at the apartment. She quickly went through her steps and was out the door and on her way home in time to get home only a bit after 8.

In her car Cora turned her phone back on and heard a voice mail from Tim: "I'm still working and will not be home when you get home from your committee meeting." No "I love you" or "good-bye"; just short and sweet. She was actually relieved that she would beat him home, and she could be in bed by the time he arrived. They could cuddle and sleep in each other's arms. Hearing his voice in the voice mail triggered her guilt feelings, and she knew she had to end things with Mark. But, damn, tonight was so good, even though she was tired.

She arrived home, to find an empty garage. She pulled in and went straight thru the kitchen to the stairs and up to their master bedroom. No need for lights since she knew this home so well. She was more tired than hungry so she brushed her teeth and fell into bed, knowing she would wake up the next morning holding on to Tim.

The next morning did arrive, and Cora woke up slowly. She reached out to Tim and woke up more as she reached further but didn't find him. She finally sat up in bed, turned on the light and saw that his side of the bed had not been slept in. She got up, not really concerned. February was the time of the year Tim and his partners divided up the previous year's profits, and some of those meetings could get contentious and go on for a long time. She did check the other upstairs bedroom and then got ready for the day and headed downstairs. When she looked into their shared office a little snake started growing in her stomach.

When Cora's and Tim's two daughters, born only 16 months apart, had departed for college three years ago, the couple had adapted the family room into a shared office. They each had a desk, on either side of the fireplace. They both enjoyed sitting at their desks, doing whatever the work was, but able to glance at the other and exchange smiles and, a few times, move to the sofa for more enjoyment. This morning, however, Tom's desktop was completely empty. No pictures, no folders, nothing. She needed to call him, and she ran back upstairs to get her phone. She hadn't recharged it, however, so she would need to wait a few minutes before she could reach out to him. The snake was stirring a bit more.

Cora realized she was hungry; she had not eaten since lunch yesterday, so she headed down to the kitchen while her phone was charging. As she walked into the kitchen and flipped the light on the snake got a lot bigger. On the kitchen table was a ring, on top of a CD case, on top of a piece of paper. She picked up the ring and knew immediately it was Tim's wedding ring. She knew the CD case would have a CD in it that showed proof of her infidelity, and she knew the piece of paper would have a note from Tim accusing her, rightly, of horrible things, and demanding divorce. She didn't want to look at the CD so she slowly pulled the piece of paper into view. It was not a note. It was a photograph.

The photograph showed her with laughing eyes looking at the camera and her smiling lips wrapped around the head of an erect penis. Cora would have vomited but she had nothing in her stomach except that snake getting bigger and bigger.

She started back upstairs, but then stopped and looked at the CD case. Maybe, just maybe, the CD inside had a message from Tim. She took it to her computer and opened the case. The snake started devouring her heart as she read the title printed on the CD: "Thursday committee meetings." She did force herself to watch it, in fast forward, but there was no sound and no message from Tim, just video of her and Mark fucking and sucking. She did make it back upstairs, the weight of the snake dragging her down. She called Tim and learned that her marriage was most probably over. When she dialed his number, the response she heard was: "Please check the number and dial again; this number is no longer in service."

Cora sat on her and Tim's bed, unable to move or even think much. She finally stirred as she realized she had to get herself to work, especially if she was going to be on her own going forward. As she drove to the hospital, she called Tim's direct line at his office, and the call rolled to the operator/receptionist.

"Hi, this is Mrs. Peterson, may I speak to Tim?"

"I'm sorry, he is not with this law firm at this time."

"Uh, may I speak to John LaFont?" John was another partner and perhaps Tim's best friend at the firm.

"LaFont."

"John, this is Cora Peterson. Is Tim around there?"

"Cora, Tim is not here. He is not currently part of this law firm. I do have his power of attorney if you are interested."

"John, what does that even mean? Tim and I are having a little difficulty and I really need to find him so we can talk."

"Cora, you should know that Tim shared some of that difficulty with me and I believe, for now anyway, he has no interest in talking with you. Good-bye." And he hung up. Cora was devastated. Should she wait for Tim to call? Or maybe even come home? Or file for divorce? She knew she had fucked up, but how could she even begin to make things right if she couldn't find him?

Chapter Two: Tim's Story

Tim loved reading and rereading Charles Dickens, especially those famous beginning lines: "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times." Februarys in his life have been that way for a long time. The best: his law firm's fiscal year ends at the end of January so in good years the partners divide a pot of money in February, first to bonuses for the associate lawyers and staff and then profits for the partners. Then Cora and Tim start making plans for some luxe vacation somewhere and enjoying their life together without the strain of those worst years. The worst: Februarys with no profits to divide, small or even non-existent bonuses, strain at home because of the financial issues.

This year is one of the best years, so life is good. The partners try to meet every Monday afternoon, for planning and keeping track of what is going on around the firm. Today's meeting is to hash out associate and staff bonuses, and Tim plans to politic a bit with the other partners about profit sharing. His secretary Jennifer brings in the mail, and she pushes a bit about bonus possibilities. Jennifer is Tim's conduit to the staff; she collects and spreads gossip for Tim to help him keep informed about staff issues. For Tim, Jennifer is an absolute sweetheart. She has worked for Tom for more than 10 years, and would do anything for him. A few years ago, when Tim and Cora's daughters were in high school, Jennifer's husband was diagnosed with lung cancer. Tim helped out financially and his daughters helped out at Jennifer's house, and she still feels a huge debt of gratitude to Tim and his family.

Tim took a look at the mail, and saw an envelope marked personal and confidential. Jennifer saw him looking at it and they both laughed. Some of his more peculiar clients marked everything personal and confidential. But it did always get his attention. Today, though, he was concentrating on bonuses, and Jennifer was giving him her perspective on other staff people and even the associates.

The law firm is Bates and Brogan, founded about 40 years ago by Max Bates and Don Brogan. Since then, the firm has added only two partners: Tim and John LaFont. John is really the star now and this past year he settled two cases that generated a lot of money for the firm. Now Tim wants to make sure the partners allocate enough of the profits to John to keep him at the firm. Max will be okay with that, but Don Brogan is pretty greedy. Tim plans to use his greed against him: make him see that the partners need to pay John extra, so he stays and generates even more profits for next year. Tim thinks he will be successful, but it will take some time to negotiate. And that is what he is good at: he is the deal guy, and negotiates corporate and complex financing deals. He loves it, almost as much as he loves Cora and his lovely daughters. His daughters are away at college, juniors at the University of North Carolina. They wanted to get away from the cold in Albany and Tim pays out-of-state tuition as a result, but they're happy so it's worth the cost.

Jennifer left to go spread rumors and hopes about bonuses, and Tim finally turned to the mail. When he opened the personal and confidential envelope, he pulled out the contents and his world stopped. A CD case and a picture: the picture showed his wife Cora, smiling at the camera, her smile interrupted just a bit by a cock sticking between her lips.

Tim stared at the picture a long, long time. He stared at the CD case a long, long time. At some point Jennifer came back into his office and asked if he were ok. He mumbled something and she went away. He finally opened the CD case, and the CD inside had a handwritten title: "Thursday committee meetings." He knew what the CD would play, and he could not look at it. Cora had been going to her Thursday committee meetings for months, since last September, at least 5 months. Tim finally got out of the office and went to the Y, where he had a locker. He changed into running clothes and headed out for a run.

Tim has been running since he was a teenager and his runs, even when they hurt, are good for him. He believes they settle his brain somehow and allow him to focus on the issue du jour. Today's issue was huge and even 6 miles in the cold February weather did not help in any way. He got back to the Y, showered, and walked back to the office in time for the partners meeting about bonuses.

He could pretend interest in the bonuses meeting, and really, he was interested. But his heart just wasn't there. The partners ended up agreeing on the various bonuses and agreed to meet on Wednesday, to decide on profit sharing.

Tim walked back to his office to get his coat and head home, or at least head out of the office. He stopped to look around the office that had become a haven over the years, a safe place where he could figure out deals he was working on, employee personnel issues, physical issues (a torn Achilles tendon once ruined his running for an entire year), family issues (having two daughters created many issues over the years). As he sat there, he realized he had never worked on issues about his wife, because he had never had issues with her. Since Cora and Tim had met almost 30 years ago, they absolutely meshed. Not that they never had disagreements, but even when they did they always worked together to solve them. Tim started crying as he realized he was wrong: they hadn't really meshed, Tim just thought they had; Cora had been carrying on a separate life with some guy or some multiple of guys for some number of months or, fuck, maybe some number of years.

As he sat there crying he wasn't drumming up any anger, at her or whoever the asshole or assholes was or were. But an overwhelming sadness was enveloping him. Sadness for the life he thought they had had together, sadness for the future they were going to have, apart, sadness for their daughters, who were going to be almost as devastated as he was. He hated to think about the involvement with Cora that the divorce process would require: meetings, settlement negotiations, maybe even, god forbid, counselling. Tim just wanted to disappear. And sitting there, he realized he could see a way to disappear, literally.

On a wall in his office was a big photograph of the family sailboat on Lake Champlain, docked just over two hours north of their house. It was a great family sailor: a Catalina 35 from 2011 with all the bells and whistles. But he and Cora hadn't been using it much since the girls left for college and he had been thinking about switching from a sailboat to some kind of motor cruiser. Now was the opportunity and a solution to the betrayal issue: sell the boat and just walk away from Cora. Or, actually, sell the boat and motor away.

A young family had been wanting to buy the Catalina, but they and Tim had been about $25k apart on price. Now, they would get the lower price and, with what he expects from profit sharing, he will have enough to buy a motor cruiser. And he already knows what he will name it: The Great Escape.

With some resolution in mind, he felt okay to go home or, he thought, to the house that used to be home.

When Tim pulled into his garage, Cora's car was already there, so he sat there in his pickup to put on his game face. Yes, fancy lawyer Tim Peterson drove a Ford F 150. He had always liked pickups, especially Fords, and now he realized his truck was just another obstacle to get past in his escape planning. With his game face on, and wondering exactly what a game face was, he walked into the kitchen and tried to act naturally.

"Hi, hon," Cora offered, "did you have a rough day? You're a little late."

"No, I'm good, just the usual February stuff."

"Okay, I haven't started anything for dinner. If you're hungry I can put something together."

"No, we had snacks since the afternoon meeting went on for so long. And I guess I'm really tired, so I'm headed for bed."

"Wow, you must be tired. You never go to bed early."

"You know, things change," he said as he headed upstairs.

And he really did go to sleep, and slept well. Of course, he woke up early, about 5 am, too dark to go for a run so he headed back to the office. He actually did some work until daylight, and then went to the Y and out for a run. Bitter cold, around 20 degrees, which made for a short cold run and a long hot shower.

He called the dad of the family interested in buying the Catalina, and the dad immediately said yes to Tim's counteroffer, which included closing the sale the next day, Wednesday. That dad worked at a bank so Tim guessed he could move money pretty quickly. Then Tim moved on to his serious work: finding a replacement boat. Jennifer interrupted him a few times, but he plowed on, looking for something immediately available within a day or two driving time from Albany. He wanted a diesel engine, for reliability and low maintenance, a cabin and galley with enough room to live comfortably, and some nice lines. He didn't need ocean going but did want some range. And that word "range" actually led to Ranger, a tugboat company. Tim had never thought about tugboats, but the Ranger 31s tugboat fit all his needs and one was for sale in Connecticut, only a three-hour drive away. He called the seller and made an appointment to see it the next day.

Tuesday night, he went home and went thru the same charade with Cora, only this time "I "don't feel well." That got him to bed early again and then off to the office early on Wednesday. He met the banker-sailboat buyer at 9, collected the sale proceeds and then set off for Connecticut. He had to be back at the office by 5 for the partners profit-sharing meeting, so he didn't have much time to spend on the Ranger tugboat. But what he saw he liked, and made a deal to buy it and close on Friday morning.