Perfect Stranger 7

PERFECT STRANGER

It was not a fancy bachelorette party. My friends and family could not afford a rented hall, open bar and certainly no male strippers. Instead, they took me to a local bar and dance hall and tried to get me really drunk in hopes I would do something stupid they could tease me about later. The girls, however, proceeded to get more drunk than I did. I watched as they flirted shamefully with the men there, many of whom they had seen there before. They forced me to dance with a few of them. It was always, "Beth, this is your last chance to have another man than Tom hold you close and rub his goods against you." Like that would appeal to me. I had my man, and I was not about to jeopardize the year and four months I had invested to get him to finally propose to me. Or so I had convinced myself to believe.

I was dancing with one mildly attractive man who was trying his best to close the distance between our two bodies. Fortunately, I was sober enough and strong enough to resist. It was difficult, kind of like I was wrestling a python. I looked up during the pause in one of his constrictions to see HIM -- the most handsome man I had ever seen in person. He looked straight from the pages of GQ. He was impeccably dressed, tall, with blond hair, wonderfully tanned skin, and his 100 watt LED smile. I was sure that if he smiled at me, my panties would soon be soaking. I immediately thought, "Beth, he's way out of your league, besides you're engaged."

My girlfriends had spotted him too. Their descriptions of him and what they would like to do to him were illegal in most states and immoral in all. They fought over how they would try to get his attention. One of the girls said, 'To hell with it. I'm going to attack.' She got up and proceeded to approach him and asked him to dance. We were surprised that he smiled and agreed. Within ten seconds she was dancing so close to him she was probably starting to name the children they would have together. When the music stopped, Rhonda did not. She tried to keep dancing, i.e., clinging to him with the music. He danced her over to our table and thanked her for the dance. We went around the table introducing ourselves. When he saw me, he stopped, smiled and shook my hand. I felt the electricity in his touch and, as predicted, my panties did get wet. I felt an indecent urge to hide my engagement ring.

They told him, his name was Paul, that this was my bachelorette party and that he had to dance with me. They hinted I could probably be interested in more than dancing. I blushed but I did not protest other than my stare of death. He extended his hand and I got up from my chair. The girls quickly advised me that I should go for it and that they promised not to tell my fiancé about anything I did with him. I frowned at them but hoped they were telling the truth about not snitching.

When we were on the dance floor, I was first taken in by the smell of his cologne. Whatever brand it was, I had never smelled it before, and it was intoxicating. He held me close but never tried to pull me tightly against his body. He complemented my appearance and my dancing ability. As we danced, he casually mentioned, "I'm really disappointed."

I looked at him in shock. "What is it, Paul? Am I that ugly or am I that bad a dancer or both?"

He laughed. "No, I'm disappointed that another beautiful girl will soon be taken from the dating pool of eligible women."

"You've got to be kidding. You've got every girl in this place willing to give you her panties as well as what their panties have been covering. I can't believe you haven't had lots of possibilities better than me."

"That's the problem. There have been many possibilities, but they stimulated very little interest on my part. No, I was counting you as among the very few I wish I had met in time to get to know better."

His statement sounded so sincere that I initiated a closer dancing mode. I wanted him to know I appreciated the comment. When I put my head on his chest, I felt something hard laying against his sternum. I pulled my head back and asked, "What's that?"

Paul sighed and pulled out from under his shirt a gold chain with an engagement ring on it. "This is my 'be wary of females' momento. I warn you: this is a sad story. Stop me now if you don't want to hear it."

I wanted to hear it. "Lisa and I dated on and off for a year before we decided to become exclusive. After living together for seven months, I gave her this engagement ring and we soon set a date. I was happy and I thought she was too. One day when I came home from work, she was sitting in our living room with two packed bags. She said, 'Paul, I need to postpone our engagement. Although I love you more than ever, I have become convinced that I need to date a few other men before I commit to you as my one and only man for the rest of my life. Please believe me that you haven't done anything wrong, and I swear I have no other man in mind that I want instead. I am hoping that you love me enough to let me do this.'

"I was devastated but had the sense to say, 'Well, I don't want to stop you if that's the way you feel. I do, however, want the engagement ring back. I meant that to be a symbol that I was willing to be faithful to you the rest of my life. I thought it had meant the same to you.'"

She replied, "Paul, is that really necessary? I'm sure I will be back in a few months and ask for the ring back."

"If you were honestly sure, you wouldn't be leaving now. Besides, I'm not as confident as you are that I will want to give it to you again."

"Paul, please don't say that, I love you."

"Good-bye Lisa, I LOVED you."

"The punchline to this story is that within six weeks she met someone new and they were married almost immediately. So much for getting to know a variety of other men before marriage. I got drunker that night than I had ever been before. While recovering from that hangover, I promised myself to be more careful in my relationships as well as my drinking.

"Well Beth, that's my story and I'm sad to say our dance is almost over. Beth, I truly wish you and your fiancé the best. In my opinion, he is a very lucky man. I also want to say that if by any chance it doesn't work out, please keep me in mind. I would sincerely like to see you again."

My mind was too muddled to respond. I kept comparing Paul to my fiancé Tom. Paul was more handsome, taller, fitter, wealthier (judging by his clothes), more charming, and... I had to stop with the comparisons. Tom was a fine man in his own right. "I am happy with my choice. I am happy with my choice." I had trouble convincing myself. I leaned into Paul as much as I could.

The music stopped too soon, about a week too soon as far as I was concerned. I looked up at him and confessed, "Paul, I don't want to stop our time together. Can we dance some more?"

"Maybe later. I'm afraid I'll say the wrong thing that will cause problems for both of us. Besides, your girlfriends are going nuts over at the table. I'm sure they want a debriefing. If you want to tease them, I will back up any story you want to tell them about us." He smiled. My nether region was flooded.

I sat down at the table in a daze. The girls swarmed me like drone wasps whose queen was in danger. "What did he say to you? It looked like you two had a definite thing going on between you. Did you agree to go to his car? What size dick does he have? Can I have a threesome with you and Paul? Spill it, girl and make it as nasty as possible."

I became serious and somewhat aloof. "Paul was a wonderful conversationist and, as indelicate as it may be to mention it, his bulge was enormous." The girls swooned in unison. "Calm your hormones, girls. Paul also confided in me that he was gay, but I had made such a favorable impression on him, he would allow me the chance to change his mind if I wanted." I waited for their reaction.

After a period of absorption of my words and the unlikely truth of them, they yelled at me for pranking them. We all laughed. I tried to convince them that he had been nice man, and I enjoyed his company. I also reiterated that I was Tom's fiancé, and he was the only man I was interested in.

Ruth made one last comment. "Yeah, but if you had wanted to have one last dip in the pool of men before you stopped swimming, wouldn't you want to try his big dipper?"

I smiled to cover up a facial expression that would reveal I had the strong desire to do just that. The rest of the evening was pretty much of a replay of the earlier part. A couple of my friends danced with Paul again. I couldn't believe how jealous I was especially when they rubbed him with their bodies and, in Ruth's case, actually rubbed his penis through his pants with her hand.

Before we were about to leave, Paul came over and asked me to dance again. The girls uuhhed and aawwed at me. "Don't let him get away this time, Beth. I'll let you use my car if I can watch."

Once dancing again, I apologized for the behavior of my friends. "It's a combination of booze, horniness and their desire to see me get laid by someone else before I get married."

"Beth, do YOU have that desire?"

"That's not something I'm comfortable discussing with a perfect stranger."

"That's not true. I'm not perfect."

I laughed.

"All modesty aside, I have been told that I am pretty good though." He suddenly got very serious. "Beth, I'm only in town for one more night. I am in Room 1255 in the Hilton. I have been going nuts since our first dance. I'm afraid I will kill myself if I let this opportunity go without at least trying. Please, Beth, come to my room after you leave your friends. I promise we won't do anything that you're not comfortable with."

My mind was reeling. I was getting both what I wanted to hear and didn't want to hear at the same time. I stuttered out, "P-Paul, I wish this had been another time in another place. Part of me would love to come over, but..."

"Please don't say you won't come. I will go and wait for you. You will show up or you won't. If you feel about me like I feel about you, you will come. I believe you won't ever forgive yourself if you don't." Then he kissed me, and I kissed him back.

The kiss was brief, explosive, and very public. I stood there by myself stunned before I thought, "Oh shit, I hope the girls didn't see that." I turned to the table, and the girls were whooping and cheering. I knew I would be diced and slice if I didn't think of something. My face was bright red when I returned to confront them. I decided on an offensive strategy in response to their initial verbal assault. "All right, which one of you bitches paid him to kiss me? I know he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't paid him. If Tom hears one mention of this, I guarantee you least that I will do is to put hot sauce on your dildos." They spent the next half hour denying any role in bribing him. No one confessed but evidently everyone believed that at least one of the others was capable of doing something like that, so I was able to avoid more ridicule. Meanwhile, I noticed that Paul had left to go back to the address burned into my memory: Room 1255 of the Hilton. The question was, 'Would I?'

I tried not even thinking of it as everyone was taken home. I was the least intoxicated, so I drove my car. We left Ruth's car at the club. My thoughts were busy listening to each girl give me at least one more snide remark about Paul and I being potential lovers which I countered with a threat if anyone told Tom. Finally, the last bitch was poured out of my car and I was alone with my thought: Room 1255 at the Hilton. I knew this was a, if not the, major decision of my short lifetime. Basically, it was the proverbial high risk, high reward dilemma. As the reward/consequence debate kept rattling my brain, I didn't even realize until I saw the sign that I had absent-mindedly driven to the Hilton. My heart was pounding a mile a minute.

Taking that as a sign from God, or, more likely, that other fellow from down under, I made my way to the door to the room 1255. I stood there for what seemed like hours unable to knock or walk away. The door suddenly opened. Paul was in a bathrobe and had an empty ice bucket in his hand. He smiled and suddenly I was I was no longer on the fence. I was on the other side.

"Go on in, Beth and get comfortable. I will get some ice so we can have a drink and talk."

As he walked down the hallway, I said to myself, "Talk! I did not come here and risk my marriage to talk!" I couldn't believe the leap I had made in my plans in so short a time. I went inside and waited. I contemplated taking off all my clothes and waiting for him nude, but I stopped at unbuttoning several buttons on my blouse.

Paul returned and started making drinks. I went over to him and untied his robe. As I expected and hoped, he was naked under the robe. He started to say, "Beth if you're not..."

I replied, "Shut up, Paul. I want you as badly as I have wanted anything in my life. This is a one-off event in my insignificant life that only you and I will ever, ever know of. If that's not okay with you, I'll have made a total fool of myself and need to leave."

He responded by grabbing me and kissing me as deeply as he could. Damn he could kiss well! That began our night -- the night of the best sex and worst betrayal I had made or would probably ever make. At no time during our marathon sex that night did I feel guilt or remorse. I put every emotion I had into pleasing him. He returned the favor a hundred fold. If he had pleased me anymore, I would have died of passion right then and there in Room 1255 of the Hilton.

It wasn't until I woke up in the morning that the weight of the guilt hit me. I didn't try to rationalize it. I did something I knew was wrong because I wanted one night with a man I normally wouldn't have a chance with. I took the risk, now I had to be prepared to suffer the consequences. My big decision now was whether or not to tell Tom. The idea of doing that scared the hell out of me. I realized I hadn't taken into consideration enough of how badly my cheating could hurt him. I didn't consciously want to hurt him, but I guess that subconsciously I wanted to be in bed with Paul more than I was afraid of betraying Tom. I knew I needed to be the one to tell Tom and to do whatever I could not to lose him. I wasn't very optimistic.

Paul started to say something as I was about to leave. I asked him not to say anything for my sake. I thanked him for the most wonderful night of my life. I told him I would treasure the memory as long as I lived. As soon as I got into my car, I cried. Once I got my emotions somewhat under control, I drove to the apartment where Tom and I had lived for several months. Tom's car was in his parking space, so I figured he would be waiting to ask where I had been.

I walked slowly into the apartment living room. Tom was sitting and waiting for me on the couch. He did not look particularly upset, but then I saw the three pieces of my matching luggage standing by the side of the couch. I knew I was busted. In some ways, I was relieved that now I could skip the speech I was dreading to have to make.

Tom spoke first and asked, "How was Paul?"

I knew not to do anything but tell the truth. "Paul was a very nice man and is a wonderful lover. I enjoyed being with him even though I never expect to see him again."

Tom's face now showed anger. "Let's talk about your expectations for a minute. What did you expect would happen when you decided to dishonor me and our commitment by fucking another man?"

"I expected to be punished. I was hoping that your love for me would allow you to forgive me and give me another chance." Looking over at my suitcases, I continued. "But, it doesn't look like you consider forgiveness as an option. I doubt any apology would do any good."

"You're right that, however, I guess I owe you an apology too."

I couldn't believe what I had heard. "Huh? You've done nothing to apologize to me for."

"Yes, I have. I should apologize for not trusting you."

"But you were right not to trust me. Last night, I trashed your trust. If it means anything to you, I promise it will be the last time anything like that will happen."

"Well, I did something that will prove to you just how much I didn't trust you. It will probably upset you. You see, I hired Paul to seduce you."

"You what!"

"Yes, I was insecure in believing I had been able to win you from all other men you had to choose from. I got to thinking, 'Maybe she just hasn't met a really tempting man. I need to find out before we got married.' I went on the internet and found Paul. I'm sure he gave you the sob story about him and his fiancé Lisa. He understated the effect it had on him. Paul became a first-class woman hater for hire. He offers himself to men in my situation: tempt their girlfriend, fiancé, or wife to see if they would betray their man. You should not feel too bad. His success rate is over 75%."

"Well, he sure fooled me."

"Beth, being engaged to me meant you were not supposed to be able to be fooled."

"So, you have me all packed, I see?"

"Yep."

"Any desire to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"If I had not been seduced by Paul, would you have ever told me you had hired him to tempt me?"

"Nope."

"Since I gave in, I guess you feel no guilt for what you did."

"You got that right. Beth, you need to take your stuff and leave. It feels like you're doing everything you can just to keep us talking. Maybe you hope I will weaken and give you another chance."

"I'm not sure where to go."

"Although it's tempting to tell you where to go, I'll just say that where you go is not my problem."

He helped me take my luggage to the door and made one last statement. "The thing that got me the most was that you were willing to do your first time with a stranger when it took me several months to achieve that."

"He wasn't a stranger, Tom. He was a PERFECT STRANGER. Oh, thanks for the best sex of my life even if it wasn't with you." I walked to my car. I had never cried and smirked at the same time.

*****