A Night to Remember

This is my first posted story here, and, where I never write in the first person, tonight just called for it. I do hope you enjoy!

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Tonight, I'd decided to visit a place that I'd normally pass up. I donned a low-back midnight blue, spaghetti strap, mid-calf silky dress that did nothing to hide my curves. I let my long, wavy, blonde hair cascade down my back to where it rested at the small. I looked good, I thought, so I set out.

Within minutes of arriving, I was greeted by an English fellow, who did nothing to give me false pretenses. We laughed and joked, and he bought me a drink. We went for a walk under the beautiful moonlit sky, and found ourselves on a path next to a lake and a rosebush.

I found him to be quite handsome, standing about 5'10, a medium build, in a very expensive suit. One look into his eyes and I was captivated. His compliments to me did nothing to quench the fire I felt burning deep in my womb. Oh, how I wanted him! I could feel the soft grass beneath my bare body, his hard body pinning me down as he made love to me repeatedly.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, looking down into my eyes, drawing me back to an upright position.

"I'd love to," I somehow replied back. I slid my hands around his neck, and his went to my waist. His body was lean, hard, and strong. I knew it would take every ounce of strength I owned to maintain a ladylike impression.

We danced for an eternity, until he leaned his head forward. My stomach flip-flopped with glee at the thought of his full lips kissing me. As his head got closer, I closed my eyes. My breathing stopped, and I felt his warm breath on my skin. Just like in the movies, my world was spinning.

"I have to tell you something," he whispered. A blow to the stomach, but, he was a stranger and I could take it. After all, it was me in a silly school-girl fantasy. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him. My world stopped spinning. "It's really important," he continued, "and if you leave me, I'll understand."

I searched his eyes, my mind reeling. What on earth could he tell me that would so devistate him? He wasn't physically impaired, not that it would have made a difference, because I found an interest in him at the beginning of the night while we were laughing and talking.

He hesitated so long that I feared he would turn and run. Finally he said, "I'm married." He paused for a brief moment and said, "I'll not be able to continue anything after tonight."

My world did in fact crash down around me, but, I mustered a smile and said, "Not even a friendship?"

He looked at me in disbelief as if saying, I'm the scum of the earth and you still want to be my friend? Eventually he said that he'd love to continue to be my friend. We continued dancing, and he leaned close and told me his story. He rarely sought solice in the arms of another woman, but he was having marital problems. He and his wife nary shared a bed and he was lonely. I could feel his pain in the beat of his heard and his words. God, how I wanted to console him on the grass, but shame on me for even thinking that way!

As we continued dancing, staring into each other's eyes, he once again leaned forward. I kept my eyes open, fearing more news. Instead, he tilted me back then his lips brushed mine and a thousand butterflies were released into my stomach. My breath caught in my throat, and, as they had a hundred times already, my cheeks flushed red. How wonderful his lips were! We kissed softly at first, until my tongue slid hesitantly out to meet his lips. He accepted it with gratitude, holding me tightly and kissing me deeply.

When his hand began to rub my back, from my shoulders, down my bare skin, to the top curves of my rear, I melted. His touch was so soft, yet so firm, so very masculine. While he was doing a number on my back from just a simple touch, a soft throbbing at my front sent me reeling as well. I involuntarily pressed against it, fueling the fire, feeling the comfort of a man's erection.

At that moment, his hand slipped beneath my dress and he took a handful of my rear. I softly cried out, and have never felt anything so wonderful. Sure, I've had men feel me up, but his touch, his hand so delicate and firm, sent shivers up my spine. He grew bolder and his hand lingered. I had died and gone to heaven.

When I felt my dress being raised, I was beside myself with glee. Except for the fact that I was still thinking sensibly. Gently I pushed him away until we were both standing in an upright position. He looked at me questioningly, smoothing my dress back down, and my heart broke. "Should I stop?" he asked.

I smiled, smoothed my fingers over his brow, and asked softly in return, "Are you sure?"

"I, I don't know," his quiet, honest reply came. My heart sank, but I knew this was right. At that moment, I sent 'right' to damnation. My womb was on fire for this man, but I couldn't do it until he was sure.

I cupped his face gently and said, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to make love to me, but I need you to be sure."

"I've never been unfaithful to my wife, before. I'm a bad man."

"You're not a bad man," I said softly. "Even after everything you've told me, I didn't stop you. I'm a bad man too."

"I wanted to seduce you," he went on.

"I wanted seduced," I countered. We stared at each other for a long time.

"I suppose you think I'm a terrible person. You should go find a younger, more studly person to have fun with."

I laughed at 'younger, more studly', and told him so. "I don't think anyone could reach the bar that's been set tonight." I looked up into his eyes before I went on. "It'll be hard to find another intellegent conversation and a great man."

As he drew me near again, he mentioned something about a beautiful woman, and for all of me I wish I could remember what it was. I fell into his arms, holding him tightly. He asked what song I heard while we danced, and I told him it was a soft, romantic tune. He told me he heard Nat King Cole's "Almost Like Being in Love".

My stomach was doing more flip-flops and my mind was reeling. Why did I have to stop it? I could be screaming with release, and giving him his own long-deserved, long-needed release. I sent rationality to damnation just then also. I found myself wishing I could go back in time, but I knew that number one, it was impossible, and two, I couldn't have lived with myself.

I took his hand and led him to a stone bench I spotted. We sat down in silence. I don't remember much of our conversation here, for my heart was too busy breaking for me to hear much. I know, you're thinking, "But Gabs, he's married! Not to mention significantly older (he's 34)!" And I know this. Although age doesn't bother me much, I couldn't be a rebound for this wonderful man. We collided on such an intimate level, yet even as I write this, I fear I'll never see him again.

When I called him a wonderful man earlier, he confided in me that he didn't deserve to be called so, at least, he wasn't used to hearing anything other than a bastard. Now, sitting on the bench, he said that he thought I had a slew of men following me like a puppy. I turned away and told him it wasn't true. His arm slid around me and I took comfort in the strength.

After a few more minutes of silence, I told him honestly that I hoped his marriage worked out, and that if he needed someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, he could find me, for I made a silent promise to myself to frequent this place at every convenience. I also then, after a brief period of silence, confided something intimate in him, about him, then immediately regretted it, blushing fiercely and looking down. His fingers beneath my chin brought my eyes back up to his, and he kissed my lips again briefly, and oh-so-softly. I was struck speechless as we stared at each other.

I was blinking back tears, and he was taking a final look at me, memorizing me. Finally, his gaze tore away and he stood up. He started walking away, but I couldn't look. I wrapped my arms around my middle and turned my head, the tears that I'd tried to hold back now falling freely.

Before the silence ate his falling footsteps, he paused and said to me, in that clipped, charming, (and what I find) sexy English accent, "You'll forever be in my heart."