Looing for Miss Right

FRIENDS

INTRODUCTION

I'm Jonah, 34, about 6'-1" and weigh in the 190's. I'm pretty average in the looks department - medium-brown, slightly curly hair, worn just over the ears and collar; clean-shaven; kind of light brown eyes; average-sized nose, mouth and so on; really big ears and...just kidding. I guess my physique is my strong suit, I'm pretty well muscled. In high school, I was a wrestler, football player, and was in track and field sports, including cross country and shot put. In college, I played wide receiver in football and was again on the track team, but had to move to shorter distances as my body matured and beefed up; so I kept in pretty good shape, and still do.

I was married once, when I was young, early 20's, but nowadays, I live alone with my critters, in Camino a Lago, a community northwest of Phoenix, Arizona, in the house I bought for me and my wife-to-be. I bought it a little over three years ago, two months before our betrothal, and one month before our breakup. Long story - but the short of it: She decided she wasn't ready, and my job was a problem. It requires me to travel a lot, and that was an issue. So, we were probably smart to call it quits before it was too late. I certainly didn't want to have another failed marriage.

I work for a large, heavy equipment importer, and represent them to dealerships and large construction and mining firms in most of the western U.S., except for California, which is its own territory. It's an interesting job which pays well and has very lucrative commissions.

Since my broken engagement, I've been adrift as far as female companionship goes - playing the field, as they call it, but not so much by choice. Right now, I'm in two relationships, one unusual, one unwanted. I would still like to find a Miss Right, and make her Mrs. Right, but that hasn't been in the cards for me. So, I'm still searching.

PROLOGUE

I was awakened by sunlight streaming in through open drapes, and my first thought was "I'm late for my flight, crap!"

As I lay there, I looked at the ceiling - a white ceiling fan was slowly turning. I don't have a white ceiling fan. I sat up and my head spun. I looked around and noticed flowered wallpaper - I don't have wallpaper, flowered or otherwise. Then I noticed a slender arm lying across my stomach.

Before I could wrap my head around that, I heard soft snoring over the pounding in my head. I looked over, and there, lying on her side, was a naked woman attached to the arm. She had an angelic face framed by a tangle of long, auburn hair. As I tried to focus, she rolled on her back, and her arm slid off my stomach, flopping beside her. As her hand passed through the sunlight, I noticed the glint off a wedding band. I'm was in bed with a naked, married woman. This couldn't be good. I got lightheaded and flopped back on the bed.

After a minute, I managed to prop up on my elbows and looked around again, trying to make sense of things. There was an empty champagne bottle on a dresser, and a bra hanging on a bedpost. Some part of my brain observed, "Those look like D-cups," and I looked over at the woman, now lying on her back with her upper torso uncovered. Her large, full breasts lay sublimely on her chest. "Nice tits," a part of my alcohol-soaked brain observed, then wondered, "To whom do those lovely breasts belong?"

As I continued to survey the room, I spotted a wadded-up tux on the floor. "Oh no!" I thought, swooned and fell back again. My muddled brain tried to remember the events of the previous night. I sort of remembered a wedding, then dancing, then having sex. The question was whose wedding, and who was the married woman in my bed?

STORY

I. THE WEDDING FIASCO

"Morning, what time is it?" the woman next to me mumbled when I flopped on the bed, obviously waking her.

"Dunno," I mumbled back.

"Where's the bathroom? I think I'm gonna be sick," the mystery woman moaned as she sat up and looked around.

Puzzled, I answered, "Your bedroom..."

"Ungh," she groaned, "s'not my bedroom...where are we?"

"Good question," I returned.

She looked at me for several seconds, then tentatively lifted a hand and pointed at me, "Um, Jason, right?"

"No, Jonah, and um..."

"Chelsea."

"Sorry. I'm a little fuzzy about...everything," I apologized.

"No. No problem. Me too. But I gotta find a bathroom."

With that she whipped the sheet back and crawled out of bed, completely naked. I was immediately awe-struck by her nude backside. She was fairly tall, at least 5'-8" with a long mane of dark-auburn hair, and a wonderfully shaped body - from her slightly broad shoulders and tapered torso, to her narrow waist, shapely hips and firm, round buttocks, down to her perfectly sculpted legs, she was stunning.

As she stood, she swayed, almost falling, placing a hand on the bed to steady herself. When she did, her large breasts hung and swayed slightly. I'm not necessarily a 'breast man' but these were works of art, with large aureoles and moderately-sized nipples to top them off.

I pointed, "Try that door."

"Yeah," she mumbled as she headed around the bed.

Again, the semi-functional part of my brain observed, "Damn, nice body, nice everything..."

Shortly, I heard retching sounds coming from the bathroom. It made me feel a little queasy. I started taking shallow breaths. The commode was occupied, so I had to hold it in. In my experience, it's awkward for two people to throw up in the same toilet at the same time. Okay, I've never had that experience, but I can imagine. It would be all kinds of bad.

As I tried to get the cobwebs to clear, I noticed a wedding gown on the floor by the dresser. Again, I thought, "Oh no!" I either slept with somebody's bride, or I got married last night. I felt the blood drain from my face, and I broke into a sweat. Bile started rising in my throat. I almost threw up, right there. My panic attack was interrupted by the sound of a toilet flushing and water running. The sound of the water had an immediate effect.

My bladder screamed, "Bathroom! Now!"

As soon as I stood, my head spun again, and I grabbed the nightstand to keep from falling. "Quit fucking around and get to the bathroom!" my impatient bladder screamed again. At the same time, I gagged as bile hit the back of my throat. I didn't know whether I was going to throw up or piss myself first.

I staggered to the bathroom door, and knocked.

"Yeah?"

"Gotta pee...bad."

"Come on in."

Chelsea was leaning over the sink, splashing water on her face, and I couldn't help but notice her body once more; but before my bladder screamed again, I beat it to the toilet and let loose a stream. If I wasn't so hungover, I would have been embarrassed to be standing naked next to a beautiful, naked, female stranger while I was pissing like a horse. Of course, this stranger was possibly my wife. Oh, fuck, I'm gonna throw up. I swayed and had to hold onto the toilet tank. I gagged a couple times, and almost threw up before I could quit pissing.

Chelsea grabbed a hand towel and wiped at her face, then looked over, "Geez, I guess you did have to go...um, Jonah. It is Jonah, right?"

"Yeah, I think so," I feebly joked,

Chelsea chuckled, "I guess we got pretty smashed. And um...we obviously did the deed..."

"Um, which deed?" I stuttered as I finally quit pissing and flushed.

She looked at me, "Sex. We had sex."

"Um, Chelsea?"

"Yes, Chelsea."

"Chelsea, um, besides the sex, do you remember us getting married?

"What? No! Why do you ask that?"

"There's a wadded-up tux on the floor by the bed, and a wedding gown by the dresser."

"No!"

"Yep, and if we didn't get married, are you already married?"

"No, and why do you ask that?"

"You have a wedding band on your finger."

"This is not a wedding band. It's...it's an engagement ring."

"Oh, so you're only engaged," I said, with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

"Okay, that sounds bad, I know, and I'm not sure how this happened, and I'm not proud of it, but..."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not judging you and sorry if I sounded that way. Honestly, I'm very glad you're not married...but are you sure we didn't get married?"

"Oh no, I think I'm going to be sick again," she groaned, pushed me aside and knelt at the toilet.

I said, "I'm sorry. I don't remember what happened, but I remember a party. You were in a gown; we were dancing together, and I sort of remember coming up here...and we, well we obviously had sex, so..."

Chelsea threw up again. When she was done retching, I handed her a wet cloth.

"Thanks, she mumbled, then, "I hope to hell I didn't marry you. Sorry, but that would be really inconvenient. Bring me the dress; I've got to see it."

I managed to bend over and pick the dress up without passing out or throwing up, and brought the rumpled gown to the bathroom and held it up.

"That's not a wedding gown. That's a bridesmaid's dress."

"Oh, good!...Oh, brother, I remember now; I was the best man..."

"I was a bridesmaid..."

"My brother's wedding..."

"Thank goodness!" we said at the same time.

I hung the dress on a hook on the bathroom door.

Chelsea staggered on shaky legs to the sink, rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face again. I waited till she was done, then handed her a face towel. As she was drying her hands and face, she was looking in the mirror. She started combing her long hair out with her fingers. I stood, mesmerized by her beauty, watching her. Her long, wavy, dark auburn hair had shimmers of light auburn in it - just gorgeous. Against her very light complexion, it was striking. Her oval face was dramatically beautiful - dark eyebrows framed greenish-blue eyes - not hazel, a deeper blue-green, with long, dark eyelashes. Her cheeks were moderately prominent and her medium-sized nose was straight and perfect. Full lips and a slightly wide mouth completed her devastatingly beautiful face. I'm not exaggerating. I was awestruck.

"What the fu...How did I get...That's cum! I've got cum in my hair."

I turned and looked. We made eye contact. I didn't know what to say.

"How the hell did you get cum in my hair? I honestly don't remember giving you head..."

"Um, not sure. I don't remember that either, but I sorta remember you asking me not to cum in you..." I feebly responded.

"So, how did you get it in my hair?"

I shrugged, "Um, sometimes I cum pretty hard."

She gave a wan smile, "I'd say so...I guess the upside is you didn't cum in me."

Again, I didn't know what to say.

She remarked, "Well, maybe we should both get showers...I don't know whose place this is..."

"I think it's Trish's bedroom."

"Right," she replied, "Well, I hope she doesn't mind if we use her shower; seeing as how we've already used her bedroom." She looked towards the bed, "And pretty much trashed it."

"Um, Jonah, I guess, 'Hi, nice to meet you,' and thanks for not um, you know..." she said and stuck out her hand.

I smiled and shook her hand, "Nice to meet you too, Chelsea, and I guess, the pleasure was all mine."

I was distracted by the way her big, full breasts wobbled on her chest as we shook hands. I caught myself staring and quickly looked up.

Chelsea replied, "Mmm, I remember a little about last night, and I have a feeling the pleasure thing was mutual. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to jump in the shower and wash this out of my hair. Do you think you could find all my clothes and bring them in while I shower?"

"Sure, will do," I answered and left as she turned the water on.

While I waited for my turn, I gathered up all our clothes, taking them to the bathroom. I laid Chelsea's underwear on one end of the vanity and mine on the other. I went to a closet, got a couple hangars, shook out our clothes and hung my tux and her dress on the back of the bathroom door.

As I did, I remembered pretty much everything before getting plastered. We were at my brother's new in-laws' house in Anthem, north of Phoenix. I was the best man at his wedding and Chelsea was one of the bridesmaids. After the bride and groom left, everybody continued the party and all the groomsmen and bridesmaids took turns dancing with each other. Chelsea and I ended up together. She was a wicked dancer and caught my attention. Things get a little fuzzy after that, but obviously we had a mutual attraction, which fueled by alcohol, led to our current situation.

I heard the shower stop and went into the bathroom. Chelsea was reaching for a towel and I stepped up and handed it to her.

"Thanks, Jonah. Go ahead and take a shower...You could kind of use it," she grinned.

As I turned the water on and set it, I discreetly watched Chelsea dry off. Wow! I guess if I had to get drunk and sleep with a total stranger, I couldn't complain about the stranger I ended up with. I think everyone can relate to the nightmare of the opposite outcome - you know, the old 'coyote ugly' joke about chewing your arm off to keep from waking the other person...

After I showered and dried off, I put on my wrinkled tux and exited the bathroom. Chelsea was dressed in her gown and had stripped the sheets off the bed, folded them and put them by the door. She was in the process of getting the comforter off the floor and spreading it on the bed. I went and helped.

As we situated the comforter, Chelsea looked across at me, "Jonah, you look almost as good with your clothes on," she kidded.

"I can't say the same," I kidded back, "You don't look half as good as you did with your clothes off."

She smiled, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It definitely was...And honestly, I do have a couple regrets here..."

"Oh?" she looked a bit surprised.

"Yes. First, I regret if I did anything that, um, I shouldn't have...you know, if I somehow caused you..."

Chelsea quickly interrupted, "Jonah, stop. For better or for worse, I remember that I dragged you up here. This wasn't your doing; of course, I don't remember you resisting too much," she smiled. "So, what's your other regret?"

"My biggest regret is that I don't remember much about our, um, time together, last night. I remember we danced, and I remember you could really dance, but not so much about, um, the rest of the night. I have flashes, and I do remember making love, but not the whole experience."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, but I do remember one thing..."

"Yes?"

"You were pretty, oh, what's the word...dynamic; and I do remember having one hell of an orgasm."

"Really? You remember that?"

"Yeah, I do. So you don't remember that, or um, you know, getting semen in my hair?"

"Not really; not at this moment. And I really wished I did...I don't mean about the hair..."

She walked around the bed and kissed me on the cheek, "Well, big guy, maybe it will come back to you. In the meantime, why don't we see if we can sneak out of here."

"Sounds good, and I don't know about you, but I need some food on my stomach. You up for some food?" I offered.

"That's a nice offer, but I think I better not. The thing is, my fiancé was expecting me home last night. I'm sure he's tried to call...Um, I have to find my purse," she said, looking around. After a minute of searching, she remarked, "I don't see it and I don't remember bringing it up here."

As she was searching, I interjected, "So what are you going to tell your fiancé?"

"Just that I met and banged this really hot guy, that I almost got married and...Actually, I'll tell him I had too much to drink and slept over at Trish's. That won't be a lie. Listen, I don't want you to think I'm a bad girl. I'm not. I've never, I repeat, never done anything like this, but there is no way I'm going to try to explain this to Tim. We're having enough trouble as it is. So..."

"Don't worry, I won't say a word to anybody, I promise..."

She put a finger to my lips, "I know you won't, and if you have a girlfriend, your secret's safe with me. This will just be between us."

"Right, just between us. And I don't have a girlfriend at the moment. I mean, not a real girlfriend. I'm seeing a couple women, but no commitments..."

"Playing the field, huh?"

"I wouldn't go that far. And Chelsea...if I ever accidentally married anybody, I would have the least regret if it had been you."

"Thank you, Jonah, and right back at ya. But, um, I think we need to try to get out of here without somebody seeing us like this, especially together. So, I'll go first. Wait about five minutes before you leave, okay?"

"Will do."

"I'm going to find my purse and go. If I don't see you again...well, thanks for an interesting night, and the orgasm," she grinned, then kissed me on the cheek and headed for the door.

I sat on the bed and waited, wishing I had some aspirin or Tylenol, or something. When I was just about to head out, there was a tap at the door. I froze, "Shit, now what do I do?"

The door opened and Chelsea stuck her head in, "I can't find my purse, and I can't leave without it. It has my keys, i.d., credit cards, everything in it."

"I'll help you look. Did you see anyone downstairs?"

"No, the place is a tomb - a messy tomb; must have been quite a party. I have to find that purse. I drove here from out of town, and I'm stuck if I don't find it."

We headed downstairs, and I asked, "What does it look like?"

"A small, baby-blue clutch, about so big."

"Hey, what if I call your phone? We might can track it that way."

"Smart, Jonah; good idea...except my phone's in the car. It wouldn't fit in my clutch, and anyway, it was a wedding, so...."

We started at the patio where the dancing took place and gave that a thorough once over, then went through the living room, kitchen and every room downstairs we could get into. No purse.

"Maybe somebody took it," I said, without thinking.

"Oh no! I hope not."

"Probably not. It's got to be here somewhere...I hear someone upstairs."

"Crap. Okay, you have your car here?" she quickly asked.

"Yeah."

"Let's go. I don't want anybody to see us like this. We'll come back after we figure out how to handle this."

We snuck out, got in my car and left.

"What am I going to do? I can't run around in a wrinkled wedding dress. Even if I find my purse, I sure as hell can't go home like this."

I suggested, "Let's get you some clothes, then go to my place, change and you can freshen up, fix your hair, do the girl thing, then we'll go back and do a more thorough search for your purse."

"I don't have any money."

"I'll spot you, okay? And if you need makeup, we can pick that up, too."

"Really?"

"Sure. I do that for all the strange women I sleep with."

She laughed, "So, now I'm strange?"

"Yeah, but in a good way," I kidded.

"And you make it a habit of bedding strange women?" she joked.

"Only at wedding parties," I parried.

"Well, thanks for your help. I appreciate it."

We found a Macy's, and Chelsea bought jeans and a blouse, then picked up some makeup. I told her I could supply everything else. We made quite an impression at Macy's, shopping in our wrinkled wedding attire.

When we got to my house, Chelsea was surprised, "Wow, nice house."

"Oh, thanks. Yeah, I bought it several years ago before I was to get married."

"Shit, you're married? I thought..."

"No, no. We were engaged, but called it off right before the wedding."

"Okay, whew. I was about to have a fit. And yeah, I know, I cheated on my fiancé, so I wouldn't have much room to judge. Anyway, nice place. You live here alone?"

"Not quite. I have four little ones, and a sometimes house sitter, slash, nanny."

"You have 'four children'? Previous marriage?"

"No, they're all adopted."

"What, how?"

"One I found on the side of the road, one at the dump, and two of them, I bought cheap."