I Hope You Dance Ch 01

I'm absolutely beautiful.

Chantal Warriner stared at her flawless features in the rearview mirror, wondering how she got so lucky. She knew how. Her perfect mother had married her perfect father and she had become the perfect baby. And Chantal Warriner was perfect in every way. She had graduated three years ago from Beachville Academy with a perfect 4.0 grade point and had been accepted to Harvard. She had graduated a year early with a degree in art history and had found the perfect job, managing a museum in France. That was where she had met the perfect man, Jean-Claude and she would become his perfect wife in just four months.

Everything was perfect.

She hopped out of the car and smiled into the bouquet of roses that she'd bought at the florist shop. Jean-Claude adored roses and he'd be so surprised when he came home later this evening and found her naked in his bed, covered in fragrant petals. She imagined what he'd say in that deep, silky voice, dripping with Gallic charm. She smiled to herself as she recalled the momentous decision she had made just an hour earlier. Today was the day and hopefully tonight, she would become a woman in every sense of the word. Tonight, she would give her future husband the most precious gift a woman could give a man besides her love: her virginity.

She locked the car, hurried up the walkway and opened the door, dropping her keys on the side table as always and stopped in her tracks.

Was that ... a noise?

She set her purse and the flowers down, her head cocked to the side as she listened for and heard the muffled noises again.

"Jean?"

Her call got no answer and she crept up the stairs, almost afraid to continue. She'd read about what happened to people who arrived home to find their house being burglarized. Maybe she should just call the police instead. Yes, that was a good idea. As she whirled to head back down, she heard the noise again and it sounded like a woman's cry.

A woman?

When she reached to the top of the stairs, she noticed that the bedroom door was half-closed. That was strange. She always closed the upstairs doors when she left for the day. Someone was definitely in the house.

Please, God. Don't let it be a burglar.

The sound came again, this time louder and Chantal was convinced that it was a woman. Heart in her throat, she crept closer and gently pushed the door open the rest of the way.

The sight that greeted her was one that she'd never forget. Her fiancé, Jean-Claude, was viciously plunging his cock into a redheaded woman, who was holding her knees open so that he could have better access to her sloppy cunt. Chantal's entire body went cold, then flushed with heat as she saw how his prick sawed in and out of the woman's pussy and came away glistening with her wetness. She took a step backwards and fell against the door jamb. The noise brought Jean-Claude's eyes to meet hers and they stared at each other, motionless for a few seconds.

"Well, hello, honey." He smiled, then began to pump the girl again, offering his best smile to his wife-to-be and ignoring the tears welling in her eyes. "You're home early, aren't you?"

Chantal whirled, plunging blindly down the stairs. How could he do this to her? The invitations had already been sent out and her dress was hanging in the closet at her parents' home.

How could he do this?

She grabbed her keys and purse, leaving the flowers to fall to the floor and ran outside, jumping into her car. Her perfect life was ruined now. She would be the laughingstock of town and no one would ever want to date her. They'd all look at her and whisper,

She wouldn't give him a piece of ass so he had to find some for himself!

Chantal blinked the tears away, frantically wiping at the black lines of runny mascara that striped her cheeks.

I'm ruined! I'm so ruined!

The mascara ran in her eyes and frantically tried to blink it away, panicking when her vision didn't clear but grew more blurry. She reached for a tissue and wiped, clearing her eyesight well enough to see the banana-loaded pickup truck hurtling toward her. The last thing she saw was the dark-skinned driver screaming as their cars crashed together.