AN: It was never my intention to have actually work through Harry's cheating on Ruth, and yet, a little seed was planted and tended to from a little voice that said 'what if Ruth decides that since Harry's gone out and had an affair, that she should have one too.' Only Ruth decides that since their marriage is over, why not have an affair with Harry? Why not explore a deeper, more buried sexual part of herself that she's quietly kept hidden in a sense of fear of being rejected. And so Ruth unconsciously sets out to have an affair with Harry while at the same time, Harry is having to come to grasps with a Ruth he's not expected, one who at the time, he's not entirely sure he wants as he misses his wife; the woman he's placed on a pedestal. So I ask for you to give this story a chance, as I promise you they will wind up together and still married, they just need to work through the anger, the cheating, the hurt, and everything else that comes with it. And their marriage will be stronger then it was before. =0)

She stares at the man standing across from her, top button of his shirt undone, a pleading to his eyes as he tries to make her understand. As he begs her to listen.

"Please Ruth, just..." There's an edge to his voice, one she is not used to hearing, and yet, it does little more than annoy her. It's been three days since she has thrown him from their house, since they've done more than grudgingly functioned together on the Grid, and yet her anger and hurt is even greater than it was.

"Get whatever you need and get out," she says to him, pulling her dressing gown tighter as they stand in the sitting room.

"I need you," he says, taking a step towards her. "Tell me what to do to make this right, what I need to do to save our marriage."

Hands clutching the carpet, Harry tries to hold onto his self control, tries to keep from begging or from crying out, from gripping her hips with his hands and flipping them over, from pounding himself into her for the release he so desperately needs.

So desperately wants.

Never, in all his years, has he felt the need to cum as much he does right now. Even that morning of intense sexual pleasure he had felt just weeks before; that he had thrown in her face; had not come close to the feeling that is deeply rooted in him now. The tingling in his stomach, in his thighs, in his balls is deep, challenging his rigid self control. And Ruth is making it near impossible to hold on.

She is riding him; her silky, smooth thighs tightly gripping his hips as her palms slide up and down his chest, her breasts tantalizingly bouncing with each roll of her hips; and he has another moment where he is on the verge of begging.

But no, he can't.

She's made the decision that she is going to see how many times she could cum before he does; in other words taking her pleasure before allowing him any.

And as a man, how can he resist a challenge like that?

Especially as he owes her more than he can begin to repay.

Her first orgasm had been no problem. The tiny gasps of pleasure as he'd run his fingers through her soft curls had aroused him, made him hard, but never more than he'd been in the two years of their marriage. The second orgasm hadn't been any more difficult to hold out from, what with her thighs tightly clamping against his head as he'd suckled on her clitoris, his tongue lapping at her folds as his thumb had caressed her over that second peak. But now; as she works towards her fourth orgasm; he isn't sure he can hold out.

At some point; he's not sure when; he's wound up on his back, starring at the ceiling of their sitting room as Ruth rides him, her body glistening with sweat, her head thrown back as she moans loudly, her inner muscle tightening sensually around his rock hard cock.

"God Ruth, I'm not going to last," he groans out.

"I've only had three," she gasps, struggling to lower her eyes to his. She wants; no needs; him to shatter, to realize she can be as sexual as his exploit. That all he had ever needed was her.

To comprehend what he has lost.

Raising herself up, she feels him quivering before pushing herself down again, moaning at the feeling of his rigid shaft stretching her even more. "And you owe me."

Hands raising to her hips, Harry pulls her down against him, hazel eyes black as he pleads with her. "Please Ruth, I need to cum."

Hands caressing his collar bone, she meets his gaze. "Tell me something."

"Anything." He doesn't care what he has to reveal as long as she lets him cum. State secrets and personal ones be damned.

"Who do you want more?"

Fingers squeezing her hips tightly, he freezes. "God you have to even ask?"

Rotating her hips, she feels him buck beneath her, hears him moan her name as his nails dig into her skin. Hands on his shoulders, she lifts herself up, feels the head of his rigid penis slide free to brush against her clitoris, and fights back her own moan as she slowly takes him inside her again. Teasingly, she clenches her kegel muscles, watches as his head falls back against the floor. "Tell me Harry."

"Fuck," he groans out, body shaking from the effort of not coming in that moment. "You," he gasps, pelvis lifting as he tries to thrust up into her. "Always you."

His buttocks is off the floor, thighs quivering with strain as he tries to bury himself in her liquid warmth, and he groans in frustration as she rolls her hips again, teases him as she makes to move away. Snapping, he grasps her hips, rolls them so she's on her back, her thighs still tightly gripping his hips as he hovers over her, eyes drawn to where his penis is just sheathed within her. She moves than, her pelvis rolling back as she relaxes her muscles and he slips free, his erection hot and stiff as it falls to rest on her thigh, her eyes hard with anger when he finally meets them.

"Bitch," he growls out, anger and frustration coursing through him in a sudden wave. Guiding himself back to her entrance with his hand, he thrusts hard, burying himself deeply within her. "Fucking bitch."

Legs falling open, Ruth throws her head back and screams in pleasure as he thrusts harder, head of his penis bruising her womb as his pelvis pounds into hers. "More!" She demands, heels digging into the floor as she lifts up to meet him.

Harry growls again as he moves his head down and takes her erect nipple between his teeth. This is both the most intense pleasure and the most exquisite pain he has ever felt as his entire body is taunt. "I'm coming," he mumbles against her flesh, biting down as he hammers into her, pelvis bone against pelvis bone as he comes hard.

Distantly he hears her scream again in her fourth orgasm; feels her body press up hard against him as her inner muscles clamp him in a vice like grip and her arms wrap about his shoulders tightly; but he's too far gone to care.

His arms give out as he falls onto her, his breath comes in rough gasps against her shoulder as he all but passes out.

He's not sure how long he's been unconscious when he comes to to find himself pressing fully into Ruth. His penis, now flaccid, has slipped from her and is uncomfortably caught between their groins in a sticky mess, and he thinks he feels a warm wetness against his shoulder. Groaning, he weakly pushes himself up to gaze down at the woman he loves and freezes.

She's crying, her eyes scrunched together tightly as she quietly gasps in tears.

Nothing else mattering, he rolls to his side, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he tries to pull her to him, soothing words leaving his lips as he whispers to her. "God Ruth. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, to bruise you. I don't know what came over me." He makes to brush away her tears, to kiss her softly, but she fights him, her smaller hands pushing at his shoulders as she makes to get away.

Reluctantly he releases her, watches as she moves away from him. She grabs at her discarded dressing gown, angrily thrusting her arms into it before standing, her hands rigidly pushing through her hair as she stares down at him, eyes now hard.

"Thanks for the fuck. Now get out."

Eyes wide, Harry scrambles as quickly as he can to his feet, and moves towards her, ignoring his nakedness for the moment as he reaches to rest a hand on her arm. "Ruth?"

"What Harry?" she asks, shoulders straightening as she looks up at him. She sees something in his eyes and she finds herself laughing bitterly. "What? Did you think what we just did was make love? That an orgasm or four would make things all better and we'd just move forward into happy matrimony again?"

His silence is enough of a confirmation for bitterness and anger and hope; yes hope; to rush through her and she turns from him, her eyes sweeping around the room as she strives to reign in her thoughts. Breathing deeply, she turns back to him.

"It wasn't and we won't. I told you the other day - we're over. What we just did was fuck. Pure and simple, animalistic fucking. And now, you can leave."

And before he can answer; before he can speak; she walks out. He stands there in silence, his eyes wide, his heart in his stomach as he listens to her move up the stairs, hears the bathroom door slam shut and the shower turn on.

AN: As I said, please give this a chance. I've done some research and reading on the web, and think that they can overcome this to save their marriage.