Marriage Proposal Train Wreck

When I first began dating my husband, I knew he was special. He was not only a gentleman, but he was very endearing. He was always very patient and easygoing. He was good to both his and my family. My family loved him (a bit too much I later found out, other stories to follow.).

I have to admit that I have always been a handful (very emotional, quick temperament) but things were just easy with him. We never fought which was a nice change from previous relationships. He was good for me. He had a very calming effect on me. He knew how to handle my temperament.

Although he came from a middle-class family, he had his shit together; he was educated, owned a sports car, had a house, a great job, and always had pocket money.

As for myself, I had a terrible history with men before I met my future husband. I was very feisty and volatile, so relationships were always short-lived. I had cheated on pretty much all my past boyfriends. I was different than all the other girls: I never wanted to get married. I had a history of poor experiences with boys/men. How I lost my virginity, how I was used and manipulated in my early years. It all took a toll on me, and I never wanted to rely on, depend on, or even trust men. I didn't need a husband. I was fiercely independent.

When dating my husband, I treated him the same as past boyfriends. Although he was good for me, I just couldn't let go of past behavior. Because he was always so cool and calm, I intentionally did or said things in order to provoke a fight. I was constantly trying to get a reaction out of him, but he never took the bait. It sounds crazy, but I was scared that things were too good -- does that make any sense?

He traveled on business and left me to my own vices. I found myself bored and tempted when he was away. I had never dated a guy that traveled on business before, but I adapted well and began to live a secret life when he was out of town. I enjoyed our frequent short breaks. I began cheating with old boyfriends and even the occasional one-nighters when he wasn't around.

He often joked that he knew there was a long list of men just waiting for him to mess up. He had no idea that some of those men cut the line and were only waiting for his next business trip.

There were a few times when he suspected something but I was always elusive and careful to never admit to anything. It was like I was testing him, seeing how much he would put up with, seeing how far I could push him, how much I could get away with. Sometimes I think I was trying to destroy the relationship. I had a dark side to me that I hid very well. Subconsciously I felt I didn't deserve him. The more I was drawn to him the more I rebelled. I was scared. Things were getting serious, and I was terrified of commitment.

The night he proposed to me was a complete train wreck. To say that I did not handle it very well is a huge understatement.

We had been dating for almost two years when he took me to a nice restaurant and ordered champagne with our meal. We were supposedly celebrating a job promotion. I had no idea he was planning to propose. It was a complete surprise when he asked me to marry him as it had never come up in conversation before. I was shocked and couldn't give him an answer. I suppose any answer other than "yes" means "no."

Shock quickly turned to anger for ambushing me like that (I told you I was temperamental.). I had repeatedly told him that I never wanted to marry and here he was with a ring in hand.

I completely lost it and began scolding him. I suppose I was making quite the scene in the restaurant. I could see in his eyes my reaction caught him off guard. I know when I am behaving badly, but it's something that I can't control. It just happens and runs its ugly course.

He stayed calm and wanted to go back to his place and discuss it, but I refused to go. I had a few too many drinks and continued to behave badly...very badly. He calmly got up from the table and left the restaurant, hoping that I would come to my senses and meet him back at his place which was a short walk away.

Instead, I moved to the bar area and continued to drink. I was beside myself...Oh, fuck, what just happened?

It wasn't long before I was carrying on with a few guys. The drinks flowed and I was acting promiscuously. Before the night was over, I ended up having sex with a stranger in the back seat of his car. I didn't get his name, and I couldn't even remember what he looked like. I didn't care to be honest. I do remember flirting with him in the bar and then being drunkenly escorted to his car in the parking lot.

Intoxicated and upset with my boyfriend I willingly gave him oral sex. I was then flipped onto my back and my panties yanked off. He lifted my shirt and went down on me. As I lay there staring at the ceiling of his car, he licked and fingered me to a mild orgasm. I needed an escape.

I knew what was coming next, and I half-heartedly tried to stop things before they progressed further. My new friend was having none of it as he persisted and I eventually gave in. He was worked up and before I knew it he slid his hard cock into me. I was wet and moist and had no problem engulfing his member. As he began fucking me, I gasped at how nice it felt.

"Fuck me hard...please," I begged. I could tell by his breathing and the sounds he was making this wasn't going to take long.

"Don't cum yet...keep fucking me..." I pleaded for more but I knew he wasn't going to satisfy me.

"Don't cum inside of me...I mean it," were my last urgent words to him.

I heard him moan and grunt...he arched his back up and gave one last hard and deep thrust as he let out a loud deep moan..."Aww..." I felt his cock pulsating as his warm semen shot deep inside of me, stream after stream. He moaned and fell on top of me.

"I told you not to cum inside of me," I muttered in disappointment.

"Is that it?" I was annoyed. Not only was this a night a shit show with my boyfriend but this guy came inside of me and didn't even satisfy me. An all-around terrible night.

He just grunted as he lifted himself up and withdrew his spent cock. I could tell he didn't care as he pulled up his pants, opened the car door, and went back inside to rejoin his buddies. No doubt to brag about his conquest in the parking lot.

Disappointed and frustrated I lay there in his back seat for a few minutes before I reached for my panties, but they were nowhere to be found.

That prick...he stole my panties...JUST FUCKING PERFECT...

I straightened up as best I could and found my way back home. I felt so cheap. So stupid. What have I done? What the fuck is wrong with me? What started out as a wonderful evening somehow went horribly wrong.

I was scared of committing, and I rebelled. Believe it or not; this was typical of my behavior back then.

I called my boyfriend the next day, and he told me he had returned to the restaurant when I didn't show up at his place and saw me with a guy. He knew I had sex with him. I was scared, after a painfully long pause, I confessed that I was drunk and that it didn't mean anything. As soon as I said it, I realized he was fishing and didn't really know, but it was too late. I could sense the pain in his voice as he told me it was over and not to contact him again. He hung up.

At first, I thought he would come around and forgive me, but he didn't. After about a week of not hearing from him, I began calling him nonstop but he wouldn't answer. I was slowly coming to realize that maybe it was really over. Had I finally succeeded in pushing him away? But now I missed him dearly, I was heartbroken. We were apart for about six weeks before I basically went back begging to take me back. It was one of the most emotional things that ever happened to me.

We had a lot of deep talks and slowly over time we healed our relationship. Deep down I still thought I didn't deserve him. I was very concerned I could never remain faithful when married, of course, I didn't tell him that. Several months later he proposed to me again and I accepted. But this time I had sex with him and not a stranger.

As you can see from my stories my concerns were very valid. I moved in with him before marrying, and I ended up having an affair with his older brother (see Brother-in-law story) I was guilt-ridden and seriously contemplated not going through with the wedding. I had my doubts and concerns even as I walked down the aisle.

After marrying I last six months before I fell into the arms of an old boyfriend (other stories to follow). The doubts never went away...I still question my path to this day. I often wonder what is wrong with me.