Author's note: Again thanks for the constructive comments about my last submission. And thanks to Literotica for a chance to practice my writing for so many readers amongst the LW viewers.

Below is yet another story about people who DO NOT live next door. It includes a mismatched husband and wife who get a divorce and a bit of pain.





The dance instructor stood at the dance studio window looking out at the parking lot and watched her next student slide out of the passenger side door of the car. He obviously was consumed with love for the lady driving the car since he had bear hugged her to simply kiss goodbye. She immediately had good vibes from watching them embrace as her mind raced ahead to the Professional-Amateur (Pro-Am) Regional Championships coming Saturday night and knew that a rock stable home life was a vital ingredient when training hopeful ballroom dance champions.

Angie Mantel is in her mid-forties and a professional ballroom dancer with a resume that lists dancing credits in 20 countries. When she and her dance partner are not performing in paid exhibitions or in competitions, She teaches dance lessons along with the other 20 independent dance instructors who rented instruction space in this major big-city studio. Her dance partner teaches also in the rented space next to hers.

The student on her mind now - about whom Angie has dreams of his becoming a professional dancer - is Morton Johns. After getting out of her car, he had just watch his wife drive out of the parking lot, and was now walking into the building for today's lesson - there would only be one more lesson after today before the BIG event. Morton had been training for 2 months taking two or three lessons weekly to compete in the Pro-Am regional meet this coming Saturday night at a major downtown hotel. The mid-twenties journeyman electrician, i.e., the dance 'leader,' had all the patterns down pat for each of the three dance routines the student would perform with his teacher. She played the role of 'follower.' Morton's amazing muscle memory bolted the professional's attention to him even in their first training lesson for the coming event. Their focus soon turned to style and technique as the judges graded highly precision dance steps which would radiate a sense of grace and elegance while dancing with his professional instructor. Technique had been their practice goals for the past six weeks.

Morton was rare, in that he was a natural dancer - light on his feet, tall, handsome, mid 20s, an almost natural 'leader' on the dance floor, and had almost unique muscle memory. He was, at the same time a very strong man though with average size arms for a 6'2" man - he could, for example, lift his teacher's 107 pounds above his head with one large hand and spin her around with no visible evidence of muscle strain. This 'overhead baton' pattern was part of the choreography they had been practicing for the preceding two months for Saturday's competition - five more days. He told his teacher when he signed the lesson contract, "I want to excel in something - My wife has just become a celebrated scratch golfer around her club house at the links where she plays with girl friends - and I want to be as impressive on the dance floor."

After the 'feel-good-I-am-ready' lesson was over, Morton went to the adjoining rent space and had a seat to wait for his carpool ride home. Marilyn Candles was a divorced twenty something who, too, was practicing for the same competition Saturday night, except as a 'follower.' Morton and Marilyn had met at one of the studio wide dance parties - a very crowded affair where students of all 20 instructors would mingle and practice their newly learned dance skills. As the two got to know each other, they found out that they not only have very much in common but they also happen to live in the same vast apartment complex. In time they were so very comfortable in each other's arms dancing they started excluding others as partners. But both instructors of the two students encouraged them to dance with others to improve their skills. They did reluctantly and when he started to spend very little time in Marilyn's arms, Morton even thought about a clandestine affair with her since he felt so good in her presence. But, he knew - and knew that she knew - achieving excellence doesn't mix with sexual hanky panky so they never even touched each other off the dance floor, even as they would sometimes spend hours talking at a Starbucks enroute home after practice.

More than that, however, Morton was very much in love with his wife of 4 years. He still referred to her as his bride and a cheesecake photo was pasted on his locker at work. She, however, expressed zero interest in her husband's passion to dance. Likewise, Marilyn expressed zero interest in golf. They did enjoy many other things together, however. And they had what is often presumed to be a 'successful' but childless marriage. This included a good sex life where she would dress in sexy gowns and would drive Morton crazy before sexual contact. Then, both would orgasm at the same time almost every time they enjoyed each other's body. Morton told Joyce before they were married that he couldn't father children due to a childhood illness. But she was completely sure that she didn't want children. She wanted to be at the top in her profession, and children mattered not at all to her. And they had several mutual and other couple friends and did many things together.

That particular Tuesday evening Marilyn pulled into her numbered parking place and the two dancers said 'goodnight' to each other, and agreed that Doug would drive on Thursday afternoon. Doug made his way to his apartment and noticed that his wife's car was in her slot. He smiled and immediately thought about pussy as he walked in. "Joyce! I am home. Good lesson tonight!" When there was no answer he searched the whole apartment only to find a hand written note from her on the dining table: "Morton, I flew to Las Vegas after saying goodbye to you this afternoon, with a group of friends from the Links. My return ticket is for next Monday arriving about 5 or so. We can decide together what to do about 'us' at that time. I know you are in a dance contest this weekend and good-luck to you. Joyce"

Morton already felt the first pangs of the collapse of his male ego. Then he went to her clothes drawer and found that all 4 of her sexy gowns he had bought for her were missing as were her two party dresses that had hung in their closet. This knowledge was a blow between the eyes. He immediately, and erroneously, assumed that his sterility was the base cause, though not the immediate cause of her running off. At that point he went to the kitchen and got a half empty bottle of wine from the refrigerator and started drinking from the bottle, even though he had not had dinner.

He finished that bottle and opened another, trying to watch a movie on the TV. He went to 'sleep' about halfway through the second bottle and then woke up shortly and rushed into the bathroom to 'pray to the porcelain god.' He tried to eat some food, but the thought of eating anything made him even more nauseous. He took two days of sick leave and lay on his couch and watched TV both days, although he did regain a small appetite so that he could keep the wine down. He kept seeing Joyce's picture on the TV and concluded that he was really fucked up drunk. His only 'consolation' is that he kept telling himself that this had to be his fault - in that he should never have married.

At about 4:00 P.M there was a pounding on his front door. There stood Marilyn ready to leave for the studio. Morton then remembered that he was to have driven them on this last practice day. Morton just stood in his underwear and house coat with body odor and a 3 day growth of beard on his face. "What in hell has happened to you," she asked?

"I got this note from my dear wife," he said while digging the note out of his housecoat, "And of course I am not worth a damn! I have got to call Angie M. and tell her the caper is off. ha ha ha."

"Damn Morton, you are drunk," as she started to read the note. She then looked at him and said, "Oh. I see. But on the other hand, you have two or three grand that you can ill afford invested in these dance lessons plus you bought a custom fit tuxedo for Saturday night. You need to pull yourself together and do this. Look, there are lots of good looking women available out in the singles world and some might even fit you - why do this to yourself over a woman who doesn't love you?"

"I hurt, Marilyn, and logically you are right, but I still hurt. ' Why suffer torment over a woman who doesn't love me' is exactly what I have been asking myself since Tuesday night. Anyway, drive yourself to the studio and tell Angie that this weekend is off for me before you start your lesson, will you?"

"Yes, Morton, now I must go."

Thirty five minutes later Morton had just started a porno movie when there was again a pounding at the door. He turned off the DVD and opened the door to face a very angry instructor, Angie Mantel.

"Come in, Angie, and I am sorry I look like and feel like hell! I am especially sorry that I have let you down."

"You have let yourself down! You have pissed away your time and energy, the 2500 dollar check you wrote me plus the 5 or 6 hundred for your costume and entrance fee. More importantly, you wanted to excel at dancing and was ready to demonstrate that to the community. You are ready for Saturday night, Morton! Besides that all your friends at the studio will be looking for you because my partner and I have been hyping you and Marilyn as sure the two winners plus to other dance instructors in this and other studios who will have contestants at the competition. A lesser issue is that you will stab a hole in my career as a dancing teacher because you can't take your goddam licks like a man. Please understand my plight. I am getting to be a 'has been' on the professional dance circuit as my age advances, and I depend more and more for my livelihood on instructing. I plead with you, don't this to me. You are on the pre-printed program already and everything is laid out. Will you please pull yourself together and show up ready to dance Saturday night?"

"Angie, I am not sure....."

She interrupted him by continuing, "If you will come to the studio Saturday at 3:00 we will rehearse and then we can have dinner together and go straight to the Hotel. Just bring your costume on a hanger and we both can change after we get there."

Without another word, she turned and left. The self condemnation he felt now was much much more painful than that of the initial collapse of his male ego Tuesday night. To try to get relief, he jumped up and grabbed the vacuum cleaner and then took out the garbage and got the rest of the house in some kind of order. He then went to the bathroom and shaved and bathed and felt like he was 'on a roll' to beat this rap he had brought on himself.

At 9:00 there was a knock on the door as he was still dressed in his underwear plus a house coat. It was Marilyn carrying a TV tray with two hot dinner plates on it. She asked, "You going to just stand there or invite me in?"

He opened the door wide and cleaned off the dining table where she put the two plates down. After he fixed a beverage for them and brought out some silverware, they sat down. His hunger was such that the smell of the meatloaf and potatoes was making him dizzy. They ate saying very little but each just looked at the other. Afterwards, Morton dipped out two bowls of ice cream and gave her one. She says, "Wow! That was good!"

Morton asked, "How can I thank you enough for saving my life?"

"You can start by going to work in the morning. I will set my clock early and come cook your breakfast and I will do the same tomorrow evening if you promise you will show up at the studio at 3:00 P.M. Saturday ready to dance."

"I promise, Marilyn. Your dinner was wonderful! I have a better idea. Our couch makes a very good queen-size bed. Lets go get your stuff and you stay here?"

"I will sleep here but I will go by my apartment to get ready for work in the morning. Have you bed linen and food I can cook for us in the morning?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes"

By Saturday afternoon at 2:00 Morton and Marilyn had moved several items from her apartment into Morton's living room, including her costume for tonight. It was sort of like she was moving in.

Marilyn watched their final rehearsal of all three routines. Afterwards, she clapped wildly and said, "I know you will win, Morton."

Angie and Morton did win first place in two of the three pro-am routines and the judges named them the overall winner. The audience was crowded with wildly cheering friends. Afterwards there was a giant dance party where Morton was the center of attention. When asked to start the couples dancing, he took Marilyn's hand and said, "Folks, say hello to Marilyn Candles who, along with my teacher, Angie Mantel, are responsible for my win tonight!" The party went on and on and about 1:30 in the morning Morton and Marilyn made their way to the parking garage and drove home. They danced up the sidewalk to Morton's apartment, unlocked the door and walked into the living room.

His wife Joyce sat in his easy chair with her feet on a small suitcase because the couch was still made into a bed. Her eyes were bright red and all the make up had run down her face. Morton thought to himself, ["God! She looks like a fucking witch!"] and turned to Marilyn and said, "Marilyn, I think you have met Joyce a time or two. She and I lived in wedded bliss until last Tuesday, if you will remember. Lets get your things, Marilyn, and I will walk you over to your apartment. May I take you to breakfast about 10:00 in the morning, Dear Lady?"

They walked out the door with their arms loaded her things chatting with each other, ignoring Joyce. At her front door Morton asked, "Will you trust me that I not only want you as a dance partner, but as my partner as well. Please excuse me while I take care of business right now."

"O.K. I will see you at ten in the morning."

Back in his own apartment facing his wife Morton took off his clothes, lay on the sofa bed and propped up on pillows and looked at her and finally said,"I have only one question, Joyce. When did you stop loving me or being in love with me? "

She replied with very large tears now streaming down her plain face, "I still love you, Morton, even though my conduct this past week doesn't suggest that. But when I am around my friends I become a different person. I am sure its a mental illness. The first thing I will do Monday is drop my membership at my long time golf course and start playing at the Municipal one."

After no response from Morton, Joyce continued, "Aren't you going to ask me about my trip and why I am back today instead of Monday?"

He replied, "I hadn't planned to but I feel like you are going to tell me anyway, so go ahead. Remember it's two o'clock and I have danced all night - and I am dead tired, so just hit the high points."

"Morton, don't you care for me at all?"

"Care for you? That hasn't crossed my mind today. But I got drunk Tuesday night and again Wednesday and missed two days of work in my distress. Does that count as 'caring for you'? Never mind all that, eh you were going to tell me about you....."

"Our foursome was followed by some men friends in a foursome playing behind us about six weeks ago on Saturday. After the 18th hole we had a beer and all eight of us decided to fly to Vegas for a long weekend party on one of the charters - spur of the moment decision. My gentleman friend, also a scratch golfer, was the only single man in the group of 8 as the other 6 consisted of three couples."

Morton yawned and said tongue-in-cheek, "Wow! Fucking a highly skilled golfer in Vegas must be every party lover's dream come true!."

At this point Joyce broke into tears again and said, "No. No. No. At first he couldn't even get his cock hard. So after I finally solved that problem for him he lasted under a minute once inside of me. What a miserable creep! After breakfast on Thursday morning I told my best girl friend, 'I have made a terrible mistake and I am taking a commercial flight home today.' She then said, 'Wait! You have already pissed away your happy home to come with us on this Vegas party. Why not make the best of it and swap my husband Jimmy with with your 'doofus' tonight as a trial?'"

Morton visibly bored now and craving sleep asked, "So Jimmy was the stuff that real men are made of, I suppose?"

"We had tickets for a performer that I liked the next evening so I stayed and went along. He at least could perform the sex act - although he grunted and groaned so loudly the prospect of his having a heart attack crossed my mind. The other problems I had was that he was overweight with a pooching belly, had puffy skin that was yucky to touch, he was always sweating, made terrible noises and odors in the toilet and continued to make body noises even afterwards. I couldn't sleep because he snored so loudly. While I lay awake I kept asking myself, 'Why am I in bed with this piece of meat when I have a real man at home whose body I worship?" As you might imagine, by this time I was feeling like a piece of shit myself and resolved again to take an early flight home on Friday."

Morton said cynically with very heavy eyelids, "But you didn't come home on Friday, so that night must have been your dream come true then?"

"No! It was doofus again, but I lied to him by saying, 'I have just started my period early so you sleep on your side of the bed.' After breakfast the next morning, I said goodbye to the group that I didn't feel well and was going home early. I arrived about 5:00 and remembered that you had a dance contest Saturday night so I came home to wait. I almost fainted at the door because after I stepped in I saw the touches of a woman in the living room, kitchen and in this whole apartment. Her sleeping separately from you made me lose it - I threw up when I went into our bathroom and found it sparkling clean." Joyce stopped talking for a moment and noticed that Morton was sound asleep in the sofa bed.

With no other options and sleep impossible, Joyce unpacked her clothes and showered and still lay in what had been her and her husband's bed cursing herself for the remainder of the night.

Morton's timer went off at 9:45 and he refreshed himself and ran the electric shaver over his face. The master bedroom door was closed so he did not get clean clothes out of the closet but wore the clothes he had worn to the dance rehearsal the day before. He quietly closed his apartment door and walked over to Marilyn's.

The first thing she did when she came to the door was just grab him and hold him very close to her body as if they were doing an intimate Argentine Tango pattern. She said, "Thank goodness you are here! I kept having nightmares that you would forgive your wife and make up, and that you would forget me."

"Quite the opposite. Our divorce should be simple: no real-estate, no alimony, and no children. And I don't know how poor I will become after we finish negotiating, but I need a place to live. Want to rent me your spare bedroom?"

"Yes! Yes! Can we start moving you in immediately after we get back from breakfast?"

The End

Epilogue: Joyce's no-contest divorce proposal was acceptable to Morton - splitting all assets and debts equally, where Joyce kept the apartment. She immediately found a golf playing roommate. In time Joyce introduced her new roommate to Morton and Marilyn and finished by saying, "He is already a good golfer."

Marilyn and Morton's sleeping in separate rooms lasted one week, when they copulated the first time on the living room couch, and this was repeated very very often after that. This new found happiness prompted her to move his clothes and things into her closet and him into her bed. Their relationship in her apartment lasted three years during which time they became showcase ballroom dance performers for small stipends sometimes around the city. Morton sat for and passed the exam to become a Master Electrician. He then was promoted with a major increase in pay, so he began pricing and submitting electrical subcontracting job bids to major general contractors for his firm. Marilyn became a supervisor in her office.
One day Morton got a phone call from Blackpool, England - the dancing capital of the world. A woman with a household name in the dancing world called him, she had been referred to him by his original dance teacher, Angie Mantel. After spelling out an opportunity to train with the best of the best and how much it would cost for a one year term in England, he promised to call back tomorrow. He loved Marilyn very much but here was an opportunity for stardom. What to do?

At the dinner table that evening, Morton looked at his lovely partner and asked, "Care to buy a home with me, Joint Tenure 50-50?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"