A Cad Falls to Grace Ch. 01

I guess I should start this narrative out by giving a little background information. Matthew Pearson is my name. I'm 43 years of age. I am a veteran of two wars, or conflicts I guess you could call them. Saw combat in the first, when I was just a tad over 18. Killed a few men, saved a few fellow Marines, saved a few civilians. Hero stuff I suppose. I don't talk about it much anymore, but I am not ashamed of it.

I graduated high school a year and a half early. Yes, I am a very smart guy. I used that combat experience and my intelligence to become one of the leading computer software firewall people in the world.

I founded a company that provides computer system protection to major corporations, and have been tasked to break into foreign governments systems. Some of the stuff I know could topple those governments I suppose. Or at least create major scandal. I knew all the crap about the female in this year's election cycle was coming...and it's worse than what you know already.

Like I said, I graduated high school from this little town in Georgia a year and a half early. I won't say the name, as there are good people that live there, and a few not so good, that I will get too later. I was barely 16 at graduation, and at that time, was not a very big kid, compared to the other seniors. Kind of scrawny actually. My father died of ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease about six weeks before graduation. That's why I was in Georgia, and not my native Indiana. We moved in with an aunt in Georgia to help care for my father, and watched his slow progression to death over about three years. That was hard to deal with I assure you

I went from there into the Marines at 17, served in Desert Storm, married at 21, in 1994. Stayed in the Marine reserve, went to school, and graduated magna in two years. Started our business in 96, at age 23. Then, in 97, and within 5 months of each other, I lost my mother to metastasized skin cancer, and my wife to a brain tumor. My mother was gone only two weeks when we got the news about my wife. We also discovered a month after my wife's diagnosis, that she was pregnant. I lost them both, the love of my life, and our child. It was a terrible time, and looking back now, I attribute those three losses, so close together to becoming what I became for the next thirteen years or so. I became a Cad.

Now the classic definition of a cad is a man who behaves dishonorably, especially around a woman. I won't say that I really dishonored women, but I did charm, and lie to them. I did fuck a lot of them. I never once forced one to fuck me mind you, I am certainly not a rapist. Rather, I gave them what they wanted, an adventure, with no strings attached from my end. I would scan hotel bars on my business trips, looking for hookups. Being very intelligent, I can also read people pretty well. The eyes and the way people look at you, or away from you, tell quite a lot. And when you're a cad, well, pussy hounding becomes quite easy when you can read the eyes of the vulnerable, the lonely, or the wild at heart.

Anyhow, I served in Afghanistan in the early part of the war on terror, then realized I could be of more service using computers against the terrorists, so I resigned from the Marines, and our business grew hugely as my team developed more sophisticated firewalls and computer protections. We also began breaking into enemy computers. The Money flowed in, but I digress. That's just work stuff.

I mentioned earlier that I was fairly scrawny and small as a senior. I was almost two years younger than most of the other seniors. I guess I was only about 5-6 and 125 at graduation. By the time I graduated boot camp in the Marines, I had grown to 6-1, and a muscular 205. I have worked hard all these years to maintain my physical fitness, and I must say, that although I am not a muscle magazine model, I could be one. Couple that with the large member I was blessed with, and well, women do love that. Ripped abs, bulging veins, and a ten inch long and thick cock, and the added bonus of a shitload of money can get you just about any woman you want.

Being a rake or a cad was rather easy for me I suppose. I'm not saying that I am proud of being a cad. It just happened I guess. I do know that my mother would not have been proud, and most certainly would not have approved of that lifestyle or attitude.

I am writing this in 2016. As I said, I am 43 as of this writing. The story I am going to tell you takes place in the late summer of 2010. It was a weekend that ultimately changed my life, and put me back in good standing with the memory, or spirit of my mother. I hope it's not too boring for you. Here goes:

It was the middle of August in 2010, a Thursday evening as I recall, and I had been in Dallas Texas for a week, conducting meetings each day with different businesses and corporations that were interested in my company's computer security systems and techniques. After four straight days of various meetings, in various locations around Dallas and Fort Worth, that included the Dallas Cowboys and Texas Stadium, I was semi celebrating the potential success of most of the talks with a nice dinner in the hotel restaurant in downtown Dallas. Nice big 5-star hotel, with an accompanying restaurant and lounge. I sat alone at a table in the corner, still dressed impeccably in my business suit. I must admit, at heart, I am more of a Jeans and T-shirt guy, but business requires a certain dress, and being a cad on the prowl for a bed partner requires much of the same type of dress. Jeans and a t-shirt will get you laid in one of the rowdy bars around Dallas, but not in the 5-star hotel. And since I rarely drink more than a Jack and coke a year, bars are not where I would be found.

But I digress again.

I had my eye on one particular table about twenty feet from me, occupied by four nicely dressed women. I know that there was a convention going on that Friday and Saturday nearby for one of the skin care companies that women join to sell, host parties and such. You probably know the type of company, or know someone who sells their product and has asked you or your spouse to host a party. Well, I was guessing that these four ladies were affiliated with that convention.

My observation of them during the course of their time at the table revealed that two of the four were potential bed guests in my suite that night. All four were attractive, fairly slender women who took care of themselves, both physically and by style. One was rather quiet and attentive, I'd guess about 45, listening to the others, laughing when appropriate, and not too loud. Her wedding ring was visible, her dress conservative, and her eyes did not stray from the other ladies unless the waiter came around. My guess was, she was the most successful in the business of the four of them, was happily married, with kids, and her husband kept her satisfied in all ways. And she most likely had a moral code she would not stray from. Good for her. She was not looking for an adventure.

The one on the right was the aspiring adventurer of the group. I'd guess about early thirties. She laughed more, drank a little more, and wore no wedding ring, though I thought I could see the faint outline of where a ring should be. She was wearing a fairly tight, top of the knee skirt and a nice silky blouse, with the top three buttons unclasped. Even at twenty feet away, I could see hints of her right breast. She left enough to the imagination, but obviously wanted the attention. Her eyes strayed around the room during the conversations they were having, landing on me at my table a couple of times, and sizing me up. I speculate she was either divorced, or recently separated, though she may have been just hiding the ring. She was moderately successful in her product hawking, and would probably be a prize to bed with a few more drinks and a few good lies.

The lady with her back to me was also quiet, and from what I gathered, asked the first lady a lot of questions. She appeared to be the youngest of the three, probably mid 20's, wore a wedding ring, and though I could not see her eyes, I believe she kept her focus on the conversation at the table. She was probably a young bride, not looking for adventure, but looking for a way to make more money for her young household. She was not looking for an adventure in someone's bed either.

The one on the left side of the table I judged to also be in her early to mid-thirties. A wild child. You know the type. The one that always partied, drank, smoked weed and fucked in high school and college. Probably got a useless liberal arts degree at a state school, (so she could say that daddy's money was well spent), by the skin of her teeth. She drank the most of the four, and laughed the loudest and longest. She had on a tight, thigh length skirt, and an open light blouse with a revealing red halter top beneath. Her very ample bosom and cleavage was there to admire, and she most certainly desired the attention it brought. Her eyes scanned the room in a pattern almost constantly. She did not have on a ring, but it was obvious if you looked that she usually wore one. MY guess was that she was married, and whether happily or not, was looking for an adventure. I had determined that of the people in the room, she would be the easiest to get into bed.

I had noticed her looking at me several times in the course of an hour, as I sat with my lap top open in front of me to make people think I was concentrating on business. She caught me glancing back a couple of times, and turned away quickly. The third time I caught her looking at me, she did not turn away, but looked me up and down and slyly, and slightly, licked her lips. That told me and my caddish self that she was the one whom would probably share my bed that night, and try on Big Jake. (I know, childish to name your penis, but hey...I'm a cad.)

After a few moments, and just as I was preparing to call the waiter and send this woman a drink, another woman walked into view, and sat at the two person table just beyond, and to the left of the table where my target was. She stood about 5-4, probably about 130, with a nice bosom wrapped in her not to tight knee length dress. Her dark brown hair was cut shoulder length, and styled in a natural way.

I looked at her face, noticing the sharpness of her sparkling blue eyes. As I began to look back at Miss Wild Child, something in my mind clicked. I did a double take on the woman with the blue eyes, and it dawned on me with sudden clarity, and certainty, that I knew this woman.

I sucked in a short breath, and felt something in the pit of my stomach flutter, like the feeling of a sudden drop on an amusement coaster. It passed in a second, and my mind raced and tried to place the face I was seeing with memories in my mind. As she sat down and opened the menu before her, I stared at her angelic face, and scanned my memories. She was unaware of my stare, but I could somehow sense Miss Wild Child staring at me. I glanced at her for a second, then back to the blue eyed woman, and at that moment it hit me...Gracelynn...Grace... the cheerleader from high school that was nice to me, talked to me. The one I had a crush on...Grace. My mind raced as I tried to remember her last name.

Gracelynn...I asked her to the reunion dance...and it got my ass beat...Damn...Then the memory fog lifted and I remembered. Gracelynn Thomas. Head cheerleader in high school. Friendly, open and honest with everyone. Dated that asshole quarterback from the rich family in town, Stanley Hunter. I brushed that thought aside, and remembered the crush I had on her in school. It had to be her. The woman at the table had the same piercing blue eyes and facial structure, and only seemed to have filled out in the breast area and gained a little weight since those days 21 years before. She actually seemed kind of tiny now, but I remembered, in high school, I was just about the same height and weight as she was.

I watched her as she read the menu, the reading glasses she wore on the tip of her nose. She was even more beautiful now to my eyes than the memory image I had of her in our senior year. As I decided to find out for certain if I was correct and stood, I again felt that peculiar flutter in my stomach, the same feeling I remembered having when I asked her to the homecoming dance, when I was a smallish 15 and shy.

I walked the 25 feet to where she sat, glancing over at Miss Wild Child, who had turned in her chair, and was giving me a sly come hither look, complete with a steady opening and closing of her legs, the classic motion of a wild child who was looking to fuck, but not trying to seem to earnest to anyone else around.

I gave her a subtle head shake to the negative, and watched her face go to a frown as I looked away toward the table that was my destination. I forgot about Miss Wild Child as soon as she passed from my view.

I stopped at the left of the table, to the woman's right front.

"Excuse me," I began, "I don't mean to intrude, but I have the feeling that I know you."

She looked up at me, her eyes looking over the top of her reading glasses.

Obviously not recognizing me at first glance, her expression one of questioning, she said, "I'm not sure, from where?"

I had scanned her dress front and saw no name tag or other identification that would have told me if I was right. I looked back into her eyes, and said. "I seem to recall a younger version of you wearing the Blue and Gold cheerleading uniform of the Eagles in high school in Georgia. Are you Gracelynn Thomas by any chance?"

As the question left my lips, that annoying flutter in my stomach came back, as I prepared to find out I was wrong.

For a moment, her facial expression went from questioning to startled, but then she smiled again and said, "Why yes, I am Grace Thomas, though it is Grace Hunter now. Who are you?"

My heart sank slightly at the mention of her last name. I was guessing that she had in fact married that asshole quarterback. I put aside that thought quickly and responded with "You probably don't remember me, because I was a lot smaller in those days. I'm Matt Pearson. I asked you out for the homecoming dance." I laughed, and added. "That turned out to be a big mistake!"

Her face lit up in a somewhat confused recognition. She remembered the name, but since the body and face were far different, she was having a hard time reconciling the information.

Finally she said, "Yes, I remember you. You did ask me out to the homecoming dance. Wow, you sure grew up!" I took the awkward compliment in stride, as I felt she did not truly recognize me at this point, since my physical appearance had changed so drastically since the last time she saw me. I also have my business suits tailored to be just a little large, as not to reveal the muscle beneath, or the bulge between my legs.

"I know you are preparing to order. If I may be so bold, may I ask you to sit with me and dine? I have been in Dallas for a week conducting business meetings, and I know no one here. I would be honored if you would sit with me, and give me something other than boring business discussion to digest." I said, trying to lay on the charm that usually starts me on the path to conquest. I genuinely wanted to talk to her at this point, and bedding her was down the list of things on my mind, which surprised me.

"I'm not sure if I should. The hostess sat me at this table." She replied, looking around to ascertain whether it would be all right.

"I assure you, they won't say a word. And my waiter has been Johnny on the spot." I said.

"Well...sure. I don't see the harm then."

I then went behind her chair and pulled it back as she stood and retrieved her purse. I swept my arm toward my table and ushered her there, that annoying flutter returning as we walked to it.

At this point, I must say that I truly felt confused, which is a rarity for me. That flutter I kept sensing in the pit of my stomach I had not felt since I met my wife all those years ago. I was unsure of how to go about conversing with this long ago acquaintance. I had a crush on her in school. And here she was sitting down at my table in a swanky hotel in Dallas, half a country away from where we had known each other, 21 years after the fact. My confusion stemmed from this straying from my normal method of operations. Normally, I would be well on the way to making the arrangements for a tryst with little Miss Wild Child. The negotiations, as it were, would have been short and direct. Times would have been exchanged, and then I would go to my room or suite and prepare for the evenings carnal activities.

Not tonight though. This evening, I was looking for something more, though I was not sure exactly what.

All I knew was this girl I had a crush on in high school was now sitting opposite me, and she was actually more pleasing to the eye than she had been then. That recurring flutter in my stomach added to the confusion I felt for some reason. I resigned myself to use the old Marine improvise and adapt strategy, and see what transpired.

"What is good on here?" She asked, again scanning the menu.

"Just about everything on there is edible," I replied. "Not as good as a couple of restaurants here in Dallas, but good. Please, order what you like, I'll buy."

"Oh no, I couldn't accept that. My stay here this weekend, including meals is free. I'm here for the convention for Style Cosmetics, and I won a regional sales contest, so my convention trip was free." She smiled.

"Well, congratulations." I said.

My waiter returned at that moment, and I informed him of an additional guest. He took her drink order, and left to retrieve it.

I noticed that she had only ordered water. I wondered why, since everything for her was free, and asked her about her choice.

"I don't drink alcohol, and I prefer water with meals." She replied.

When he brought the water to the table a couple of minutes later, she ordered her meal. She did order a high end meal, and as the waiter left, I asked her "So, tell me about Mrs. Grace Hunter. What have you been up to these last, what, 21 years?"

"Just living my life I suppose." Was her initial reply.

I closed my laptop and pushed it to the right side of the table. "Oh come on, there's more to your life than that. I'm all ears, and however boring you think it is, I would rather hear you talk than read and answer another email from my business partners back in Virginia."

She smiled at this, and looked directly into my eyes, and for the next 15 minutes, till her meal arrived, I received a synopsis and generally rosy description of her life since high school.

She had married the great Stan Hunter in 94, after she was finished with nursing school, they had a daughter in 95, but no other children. Her normal career was as an ICU nurse in a huge hospital near Atlanta. They still lived in the town they grew up in. She had gotten involved with Style Cosmetics and Skin Care four years previous, and had been very successful at it. She was attending this convention, her first, and the first time she had been away from her husband and child by herself since they had married.

I will stop here for a moment and backtrack a little. During this entire 15 minute or so conversation, we looked into each other's eyes. Often times, this will un-nerve some people. It does not me, as I had become rather cold and calculating by nature. Being an open and naturally friendly person, it apparently did not bother her. I did notice a couple of things that told me that things were not as rosy over all for her as she said. First, she did not mention her husband at all after the first bit of information about when they married. Secondly, I noticed she looked down and away to her right at the points where she would mention milestones or accomplishments, and she had done the same thing upon mentioning his name that one time. I have learned that this is an indication of someone hiding something. Usually something unpleasant.