Mail Order Bride

MAIL ORDER BRIDE

Author's note: This one is self-edited, so all mistakes are mine. This was designed to be at least a two-chapter story. As always, I hope you enjoy.

I was hung over sitting in my boxers and tee shirt trying to figure out which hangover remedy to take. I had not had much luck with any of them in the past. Usually, I just went with 'hair of the dog' remedy which may have extended my hangovers rather than cured them. On this particular day, I think it was fairly early in the morning and I think it was a Saturday. It didn't matter since I was on vacation for several more days.

The doorbell rang. That's a sound I don't like even when I'm sober. 'Who the hell would be coming to see me on a Saturday morning? I pay the rent on automatic withdrawal so it shouldn't be my landlord.' I stumbled to the door and peeked out the peephole. My eyeball almost popped out of my head. There was the prettiest young woman I had ever seen - standing there -- in front of MY door. And she looked too old to be selling Girl Scout cookies! I watched in lust as she rang the bell again.

Figuring she had the wrong apartment, I shouted, "Who are you looking for, Miss?"

She stammered with an accent I assumed might be Russian or eastern European, "Georgie Hansen."

"That's close but not me. I'm George Jensen."

"That what I say, Georgie Hansen." J-E-N-S-E-N, Hansen."

Shit! As much as I would like to have someone that beautiful in my apartment, my brain said I can't let her in this pig sty. "Wait a minute. I'll be right with you." If you've never been a guy with an apartment, you probably aren't familiar with the nuclear option to cleaning. Everything was dumped out of sight regardless of the location or the viscosity of the item being hidden. That means that liquid things may have been spilled in the process. No problem as long as the puddle was not visible. Next it was the bathroom for a quick shave, mouthwash, and gel on the unruly hair. I went to my bedroom put on yesterday's clothes from the floor and shut the door. One final pass by the bathroom for cologne, industrial dose, which stung where I cut myself shaving too quickly. It did help to wake me up. All in all, it only took seven minutes. I went to the door expecting to see that she had realized her mistake and disappeared. She had not.

I opened the door casually like drop-dead gorgeous women come by to visit me all the time. "I'm George Jensen. How may I help you?"

"Georgie, I'm Tatiana." She acted like her name should mean something to me.

"Okay, Tatiana, what can I do for you?"

"Georgie, I am here for to get marry you, of course." For a second, her accent took me back to the old Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoons -- damn hangover.

I was not comfortable with the subject of this conversation, so I had to clarify what she said when she had answered, "Who exactly did you say you are you here to marry?"

"You, of course. You must like joke me. Please, I tired and starving. I need help with luggage. Bring in please." She carried one large carry-on bag over her shoulder and left two large suitcases for me to lug in.

I pulled the two suitcases into my apartment. Luckily, they had rollers. I left them by the couch. She was polite and lied about how nice the apartment looked. I invited her to sit down and asked if she wanted anything to drink. "Coffee, be nice." I went and made coffee for us. My drunken brain cells were being slaughtered by some of my 'scared shitless' brain cells in a battle to figure out what was going on.

She broke the silence. "Georgie, you know I coming this morning. I send you flight schedule. There was car at airport. Man had sign say 'Tatiana.' You look surprise see me now. Am I not for you pretty enough? I send you many pictures. You say I look pretty." She was beginning to tear up.

I couldn't think of anything to do but tell the truth. "Tatiana, you are very pretty, my gosh are you pretty, but I have no idea who you are or why you're here. There's been a big misunderstanding somewhere."

"But I have all emails you send me. You pay for me fly here. I bring almost no money because you promise take care for me." She started crying. I panicked and tried to think of something to salvage the situation.

"Tatiana, you say you have the emails. Can I see the emails, please?" She pulled out a clasp envelope which contained dozens of emails. All the emails 'from me' were from an email address that had my name as part of the address, however, it wasn't an email address I had ever used. The content from the emails had the correct information about me: the correct company I work for, my correct job title, my correct home address, and my personal photo from my agency's employee directory. My first guess was that someone had stolen my identity to trick this beautiful woman to come to the US with an offer to get American citizenship through marriage. I shuttered to think what those people might require her to do in exchange for helping her stay in the US.

The more I thought about it, the less that made sense. Why would trafficking perpetrators have a driver take her to my apartment? Sending her to my apartment could not be a simple mistake like getting her entry date wrong. There seemed to be only one choice: It must be some sort of a practical joke on me. I racked my brain for who would be so devious and have such a desire to set me up for a prank like this.

Then it hit me. Abraham, the self-named 'Jewish Jokester' from our office. He loved practical jokes, the more outlandish the better. I thought I could see it more clearly now. But how should I respond so as not to wind up the butt of the joke? I figured that Tatiana was an actress paid by Abraham to pretend to be a mail order bride. If I didn't immediately reject her, that must mean I intended to take advantage of her. Before figuring out a response, I wanted to find out how far she was willing to take the joke for Abraham.

"I'm sorry, Tatiana, it was making sure why you were here. It's hard for me to believe a beautiful woman like you would want to be with me. Of course, I was expecting you. I just didn't, however, have a chance to prepare my apartment like I wanted. I tell you what. You said you were starving. Why don't we go get something to eat and talk for a while? That will give you a chance to rest while my cleaning service comes over. Why don't you go freshen up now? The bathroom is next to the bedroom."

"Okay, Georgie. Alright I can change clothes before go? Long flight in same clothes no smell good."

"Sure, take whatever you need to the bathroom and get cleaned up and dressed. No need to hurry."

While she was in the bathroom, I called the regular cleaning service I used which also offered emergency services, for an extra price of course. I used the rest of the time to figure out what to do next. I had to try to think like Abraham. Let's see. A beautiful woman shows up on my doorstep and says she wants to marry me. My first reaction could have been to not let her in so Abraham knew the joke might go flat from the start. He had to be counting on me not doing that. But since I let her in and she gave me the story about me paying for her to come here, he must now think that I would try to take advantage of her because that's what he would do. She's probably on the phone to him now telling him I had accepted the first part of the prank. What would his instructions for her to do next?

I bet he would want to get me to falsely commit to marrying the girl so she would let me have sex with her or, even better, I would fall in love with her and actually offer to marry her. Once committed to marriage but before we had sex, they would spring the trap and I would look like a poor shmuck now heartbroken over what has turned out to be a fake fiancé. That sounds like what Abraham would do. But how far will he let the girl go to get me committed? I imagined pretty far in order to do the most damage. Okay, I'll play along like I'm falling in love with her.

Tatiana and I went to the Waffle House nearby. I showed her what an American breakfast was according to me. She liked some of the food I ordered for her but not everything. As far as anyone could tell, Tatiana had never been in a restaurant like this. She feigned surprise that there was no fruit or yogurt served at Waffle House. Grits were a complete mystery to her. Frankly, they are to me too.

I was very pleased with what my apartment looked like when we came back even if it took a prank to get me to pay extra to get someone to clean it up. I could actually find things now. I apologized to her for not having much room. Tatiana didn't seem to think my apartment was small at all. She said her apartment in Russia was much smaller. My next move would challenge how far she was willing to go. I told her to go ahead and unpack. I was interested in seeing what she would actually do. There was only one bedroom. She didn't even hesitate to put her things in my closet and drawers. I had to make room for her by putting my out-of-season clothes in the hall closet so she could have room. I was impressed that she brought a full load of clothing and toiletries. She had come prepared to pull me into the trap. Abraham is no dummy.

Once she had emptied her luggage, she joined me in the living room. Without saying a word, she snuggled up next to me and started crying. It's always amazed me how good actresses could cry on cue. I played up to her. I asked her if she was sad because now that she had seen me in person and talked to me, she was disappointed with what she found. I got the response I expected.

"Oh no Georgie, these are tears of happy. You are handsome more than picture. You treat me nice after making joke on me. I will make you good wife, Georgie. I will make you happy you send for me." She hugged me. I was pleased that she must have thought she was reeling me into Abraham's trap.

We went out to eat that evening. Tatiana, or whatever her real name was, continued to play her part well. She told me she had tried to get work as a model in Russia. Although she had agreed to pose nude for some pictures, she refused to have sex with the photographers in order to get the best jobs. Without performing sex, she got little work and Tatiana was barely able to support herself. She said that's why she answered my ad looking for a Russian woman to marry. Living in America had always been a dream of hers. 'We,' based on the emails, had communicated back and forth for months. She said she fell in love with me because of the way I said I would treasure her, support her career and how I wanted her to be the mother of my children. What a fairytale crock!

When we went back to the apartment, we had some wine and sat next to each other on the couch. The mood quickly became more romantic. I was a little surprised that she was willing to kiss me since I started using my tongue right away. It actually felt like a kiss from someone who really cared about me. I escalated the action to see where Abraham had set the limit on the level of affection she was to allow. Tatiana let me caress her breasts through her clothes and bra. When I tried to take her top off, she said that it was too fast for her. We needed to take more time to get used to each other. Aha! That's exactly what I expected. She was being paid to let me kiss and fondle but lead me on as to anything else -- let the anticipation of sex cloud my judgment. Besides, it would have cost Abraham way too much to get her to have sex with me.

When it became bedtime, she asked, "Do you want I sleep on couch?"

I decided to push the envelope, "Don't you want to sleep in the bed with me? We are supposed to get married, aren't we?"

"Yes, but I afraid I be too tempted make love with you. I told in email, is best no sex until married. Once married, we fuck like . . . 'mice?' Do I say right?"

"Rabbits, not mice."

"Rabbits. Now remember. Please don't try make me before then. I promise I worth waiting for."

I knew she wouldn't go for sex. Abraham was going to let her get me horny and lusting for her so I would be incredibly hurt before he exposed her as a hoax and me as a patsy. Oh, how I'm going to enjoy making him pay.

Tatiana and I kissed and hugged one more time before taking turns in the bathroom. I got the extra pillow and sheets and headed for the couch. She came out in a nightgown that revealed what a great body she had even though she was fully covered. I had an instant hard-on which is the reaction I assumed she was after. If I didn't get anything else out of this drama, I would at least have some new fantasies to masturbate to.

The next morning, she had trouble cooking in the kitchen. She said she was not used to making American breakfast and had trouble finding the pots and pans she wanted. She could make coffee, but the coffee she made would curl a piece of rebar. Typical stereotype. Europeans drink stronger coffee than Americans. She told me she thought it was normal strength. She didn't flinch while drinking it. On the other hand, I had to add hot water to make it drinkable to me. I showed her how to make eggs the way I liked. Tatiana reported she was surprised how much differently the bacon tasted than what was bacon in Russia. We agreed to go grocery shopping so she could get things she knew how to cook for me.

While we were out, she acted just like I guessed a newly engaged woman would act. We held hands or were arm and arm. Hugs were frequent. She was disappointed that she could not find all the food things she wanted. Several Russian words for different produce were used to impress me, I guess. She was either fluent in Russian or had learned many Russian words. I told her that the next time we grocery shopped we would go to the area of town where many Russians lived. The markets there would have more of what she wanted. She thanked me with a kiss.

We were eating lunch at a deli when I got a phone call. It was from Jessie at work. Jessie was one of the junior associates who seemed to have taken a liking to me. Somehow, I fell into mentoring him although that was not part of my job responsibilities. He seemed eager, fairly intelligent but overly, almost sickeningly, nice. I was beginning to suspect that he might even be interested in me because he had sexual feelings towards me. I shuddered as I tried to repress that thought.

"Jessie, is something the matter at work?"

"No, no, I just wanted to see how you were enjoying your vacation."

That was strange but I thought of something that might help me. "Well, I've had something happen that is totally unexpected."

"Good unexpected or bad unexpected?"

"I don't know yet. Hey, you want to help me with something?"

"Sure, what?"

"I think that asshole Abraham is trying to play a practical joke on me. I'm trying to figure out a way to pay him back. I might need some help. You willing to help me?"

"Sure, Mr. Jensen. What do you want me to do?"

"Just make casual conversation with him. See if you can get him to talk about me and see if he mentions a prank on me."

"Will do. When will you be back to work?"

"Not until Monday. I didn't want to be on vacation this long, but it looks like Abraham got Mr. Lindy to force me to take an extra week. He said I had to use it or lose it. I'll check back with you to see if you've found out anything."

"I would be glad to drop by to tell you if you would like."

I started getting homophobic vibes again. "No, that won't be necessary."

"Okay."

Tatiana and I started talking about sharing chores around the house as if we were going to be living there, together, indefinitely. She volunteered to do most of the domestic things but wondered what I had come up with as a job for her. Evidently that was one of the things I had promised her in my emails. I figured she wouldn't mind being stalled as she would not want to actually get a job just before the prank ended.

"I've got a couple of possibilities, but nothing definite yet."

"Georgie, I want to, how you say, 'pull my own weight' in our marriage. After I get job, we can share chores more. Now, most are mine. I want show what good wife I will be."

We talked a lot about my family upbringing and her supposed life in Russia. I admit, I was impressed by the story she told. I wondered how much was real and how much made up -- a little of both maybe. It really sounded so autobiographical that part of it had to be real. I was really tempted at times to believe she was being totally honest and then I would remind myself I was falling into Abraham's trap. I needed to focus on payback for him.

Monday came and I went back to work after Tatiana told me how much she would miss me. When I walked on our office's floor, I had my 'cheery disposition' on. Everyone remarked that the vacation seemed to have done me good by the way I was acting. I told everyone I saw that I had had the most wonderful experience. I had met a Russian girl in a highly unusual circumstance, but I thought that she may be the one -- the future Mrs. George Jensen. I knew that Abraham would find out soon and think his prank was succeeding. Meanwhile, I worked on my counter-prank.

Delila was somewhat of the office slut. Her curves were a little too curvy for my tastes, but she seemed willing to show and demonstrate her body and what it could do. She had dated and fucked and/or sucked most of the single men and, rumor had it, several of the married men including Abraham.

I asked Delila to come to my office. I had her close the door.

"Oh, have I finally got your attention George. I've wondered why you've never asked me on a date."

"As attractive as you are Delila, you seem a little too wild for me. Although I have not had an interest in dating you, I do, however, have a proposition for you."

"You're making it sound like this proposition will be either immoral or illegal. If the price is right, I might be willing to do something that is either or both."

"First, I have to know about you and Abraham."

"George, I'm not one to kiss and tell."

"$250."

"Let me amend that previous statement. I'm not one to kiss and tell for free. What do you want to know?"

"Did you two ever . . . you know?"

"We have come really close. I jacked him off a couple of times and he fingered me to orgasm once. We couldn't seem to find enough time to do more and not make his wife suspicious. It's always been a 'one of these days in the future' arrangement."

"Would you be willing to tell his wife about what you two have done and suggest he wants more but you wanted to check up on his story about his wife not caring?"

"That's pretty close to the truth. Still, it could be dangerous for me depending on how psycho the wife becomes. For that much risk, I would need more incentive, say $2000."

"$1000."

"Deal."

"Be ready to call her up when I tell you."

"I could reduce my price if you were to give me some of YOUR personal incentive."

"Tempting, but maybe when this drama is over."

"Gotcha."

When I returned to the apartment that night, Tatiana attacked me at the door.

"I miss you so much. I was scared here all day alone. I clean house and I watch TV some but most show is trash. I hope you find job soon for me. How soon you want eat?"

"We could go out again if you want."

"No, I want show you I good cook. Just tell me time to have ready."

"6:00?"

"Okay. Now you pour drink and relax. I go cook." She grabbed me, hugged me and put a blistering kiss on my lips.

She called me when dinner was ready. Tatiana didn't lie. She was a good cook. We talked. "Georgie, there is something want to say. Am afraid I make you mad."

"Tatiana, I doubt there is anything you could say that would make me mad other than you are not who you say you are, and this has been one big joke on me." I played my trump card with her.