The Woman of My Dreams

She was obviously sceptical of my attempt to paint myself as a reluctant swinger.

"Look Jacqueline, I would love it if you held out your hand and said to me 'Brad, how about we go upstairs and fuck?' But, that's not what I'm about. I've been married five years and my wife has been fooling around for quite a while, I suspect from just a few months after the wedding. There's not too much of a relationship left. She's the one who wanted to come here tonight. Personally, I prefer to get to know a woman first, perhaps have dinner, see a show, whatever. After a few dates, if we both feel something special about the other, then that's the time to get horizontal."

"It's refreshing to hear a man express that … thank you. So what did you do when everybody paired up?"

This was not going to sound good. Instead of maintaining the high moral ground, when the whistle blew, I was upstairs and in for a fuck like the rest of them.

"As luck would have it, I was off at the toilet when everybody split. By the time I got back to the dining room, there were just two women and a man left. The woman who was the wife of the man had pretty much decided that I was to be her first of the night…"

"So you did go upstairs with someone."

"If I said reluctantly, you wouldn't believe me. No, I wasn't that fussed, but here she was, offering a no strings fuck. Even a man with my thoughts about swinging couldn't resist … so I went."

She smiled a sort of I knew it smile. "How was it?"

"Well, we both got there … got our rocks off, I mean."

"I gathered that's what you meant. Was it good for you?"

"No … not one that I'd write home to tell mum about."

"So you do that, do you? Write to your mother and tell her about your conquests." She giggled, indicating that she knew that it was just an old expression I had used and revealing a wicked sense of humour. I loved it.

Quickly changing the subject, I turned the pressure back on her. "So was doing it with another woman all you expected it would be."

"I don't know that I expected it to be anything really."

Don't all women think about doing it with another woman at some time … most men seem to think they do. "I can't believe that you haven't ever thought about it before."

"No, it just never appealed to me … what about you then? That means you must have thought about doing it with another guy?"

"No way!" I was indignant, but I quickly saw that if I had such a strong resistance to gay sex from a man's point of view, then she could quite rightly be against a two-woman thing. I tried to resurrect the inquisition. "So who was on top?"

"You're determined to hear about this, aren't you? What, is it turning you on?"

"I confess it is … yes, just a little."

She clammed up, stood, walked across the terrace to the railing, looked out on the moonlit vista, the rolling surf below the cliff … then finally she turned and stared across at me for a few moments, like she was trying to decide whether to tell me any more.

"I'm sorry," I called out to her, fearing that I had allowed some stupid sexual curiosity to get in the way of a promising friendship. "It's none of my business."

Jacqueline walked slowly and purposefully back across the terrace until she stood directly in front of me, even more beautiful up that close. She leaned forward, placing her hands on the arms of my chair, her face just inches from mine, her shoulder-length black hair falling forward to partially cover her face. My nose inhaled the aroma of her discreet perfume, doing wonderful things again to my libido. She was so close that I could feel her breath on my face.

Looking directly into my eyes, she whispered. "Her name was Heather…"

My cock stiffened alarmingly in my pants.

"…she undressed me and got on top, she kissed and sucked my breasts, then worked her way down and licked and sucked on my clit until I had a mind-blowing orgasm. When I came down from that, she asked me to do the same to her … and I did … with a similar result. We both left the bed truly satisfied … but as I said before, I don't think I would do it again. I prefer a man because they've got something more to work with … but I have to love the man."

I should have been horny and delirious with lust from the way she had just told me what I had been curious to know … but my mind was back on her first words.

"Did you say her name was Heather? Blonde girl, about my age?"

She pulled away, standing straight up, looking down at me. "Yes … Heather … that was her name."

"That's my wife! You had it off with my wife!"

For a moment, she just looked surprised … then her face broke into a huge grin and her head rocked back as her laughter echoed around the terrace. "Small world, isn't it?" and she turned and walked through the door back into the house.

I sat there for a minute stunned, struggling to believe that my wife had got to her before I could. Heather had had this woman that I had desired all through dinner … a woman who shared my disdain for swinging and who seemingly wanted a loving relationship just like me … yet she and my wife had casual sex together.

Damn … where did she go? I leaped up and followed through the door that she used to go back into the house. I looked at the staircase leading to the bedrooms … she said she wasn't going back up there. Then I heard the screeching of car tyres on the gravel driveway and I ran to the front door. I opened it, only to see the red tail lights of a departing car. She was gone … and the only name I had was Jacqueline.

Chapter 2

The next day, I called the owner of the house where the swingers' party had been and asked him for Jacqueline's number. I don't think I expected him to give it to me … but I had to try. I even risked my pride and asked my wife Heather if she knew who she was … she said she didn't. Then, for good measure, she told me that even if she did, she wouldn't tell me.

Later that week, I went to several real estate agents, asking them to find me an apartment. Within a week, I had a two bedroom place in the inner city … it was time to turn my back on suburbia … and time to turn my back on my marriage. A week later, I signed a lease and I had the key. I booked a furniture removalist for the following Saturday.

On Friday evening, as Heather was about to leave for one of her clandestine night's out with goodness knows whom, I told her to wait a moment.

"I just wanted to tell you, Heather. I am leaving you tomorrow, this marriage is a sham and it won't go on any longer. The removalists will be here at nine in the morning and if you sleep until noon, as you usually do when you have one of these nights out … then I'll be gone by the time you get up. Have a good life without me."

My timing was perfect … one of the few wins I had enjoyed in my confrontations with her over our five years of marriage. She sank back into a chair, her face white … she had not seen it coming.

Heather made a phone call to cancel her friends – or friend - and stayed in that night. She said she wanted to debate my decision, but I informed her it was non-negotiable. I then spent the next six hours packing, stopping to talk to her only to discuss who got what amongst our shared possessions.

By midday Saturday, I was gone … from our home … from our marriage … and onward to a new life.

Chapter 3

The most momentous event in my life to date occurred just three weeks after I moved into my new bachelor pad. While my apartment is what you would call inner city, I usually don't go near the city – or the head office of the company I work for – during the day unless its to lodge paperwork associated with the sales I make.

As fate would have it, I had been called in by my boss on a Wednesday for a special meeting to discuss some new policies. With the meeting over, I got out of the office as quickly as I could and would have normally got out of the city just as fast to get back to my sales territory.

But it was lunchtime and I was hungry, so I went in search of a coffee shop where I might pick up a sandwich and a coffee. The street was filled with city office workers on their lunch break, some walking with purpose to do shopping or banking or something, others just milling around, making it difficult to walk with any speed.

As I turned a corner, my eyes locked on a beautiful young woman with jet black hair and sunglasses, wearing an elegant white two piece suit, the hem a couple of inches above the knee. Her stiletto heels lifted her to nearly 6 feet tall. That was the one good thing about being among lunchtime crowds downtown, you see some stunning women … it's a paradise for pervs.

I wolf whistled softly, nobody would hear it above the traffic din. I did it more for my own satisfaction, confirming to myself that she was a foxy lady. She had so briefly crossed my path, coming from across the street and darting into a restaurant not more than ten paces in front of me.

It took me a moment to register … that was her … that was my mystery woman from the night of the swingers' party. The one I had not been able to trace again … the one that I could not get out of my mind. Having been given an unexpected chance at seeing her again, I could not let her slip out of my life a second time.

I ducked into the restaurant just in time to see her being shown to a table, at which sat a tall greying distinguished looking man who greeted her with an affectionate kiss on the cheek. He looked a good deal older than she did. Had she left her partner and found herself a rich sugar daddy … her looks could get her anyone she wanted. What was I thinking … to believe that I would have a chance with a woman from the A league.

"A table for one sir?" A voice was talking … was he addressing me? My eyes swung away from my dark haired temptress to see the maitre d' addressing me.

"Oh … sorry, er … no … no thanks. I … I'll just have a drink in the bar" and my hand motioned in the direction of the bar. I found a stool from where I could watch her … and I did … intently … for the next hour.

Watching her converse freely with the man, her eyes on his, giving him her undivided attention … it brought back the fond memories of my brief time with her … her warm personality, her ease at conversing about anything.

About 2pm, she rose and kissed the older man on the cheek and began to leave. I threw some money on the bar for my drinks and moved to follow her. The next part would be tricky … I didn't want to appear to be stalking her, yet I had to make contact today. I may never see her again … fate had ensured that I had a second chance, it had to be an omen.

She reached the street and turned left … I darted to the other side of the street and began to walk in the same direction. As luck would have it, at the next corner, she made as if to turn right, a move that would see her cross the street directly into my path. She waited at the corner for the walk light.

I paused just before reaching the corner and turned to look at the building that I was outside, as if looking for a tenant name, all the while making sideways glances to check the progress of the traffic light. When she got the green walk light, I started up again, timing my strides to reach the corner on my side of the road just as she crossed to it.

"Jacqueline!" I called, my face attempting a portrayal of someone who is spontaneously amazed at seeing an old friend. "Remember me … Brad … Brad Rogers … from the … er … from the swingers' party."

"Oh yes, Brad!" This was encouraging … she did recognise me and she smiled with that recognition. "Fancy running into you."

"You got away from me that night and I never got your name or a number. I thought I would never see you again."

"Did you want to?"

What a silly question … of course I wanted to. "Yes … of course. But you drove off in a cloud of gravel."

She looked thoughtful, perhaps recalling that night, possibly weighing up whether she should bother taking this conversation any further. I decided to push for extra time.

"Have you got a moment … can I buy you a coffee?"

"No, I'm sorry, I'm hurrying back to work. I've just had lunch with my father and I'm running late. Sorry!"

Great!! That was her father … I was in with a chance.

"Can I get your number then … I'd love to call you sometime."

"I don't think so, Brad … you being married and all. That's one of the reasons I left in a hurry that night."

"No … no I'm not … that finished a week after that night we met. I live on my own now. I told you that night that the marriage was doomed."

I hoped that I wasn't sounding desperate now, but I couldn't let her out of my life again. She looked a bit sceptical.

"They all say that … every man that wants to get into my pants – which is probably most men I meet – they all tell me that their marriage is on the rocks."

"Mine really was … and I ended it … walked out."

A mischievous grin came upon her beautiful face. "Not because I slept with her, I hope."

I laughed, "No … the marriage was over before you stole her from me."

She laughed too and it brought back the memory of how impressed I had been that first night talking to her … her personality … her ability to converse … her vivaciousness … she was indeed a rare beauty.

Jacqueline reached into her purse, pulled out a pen and a piece of paper and jotted down a mobile phone number. "Yes … call me … it's okay to call me … we could have a drink one night after work."

The smile that remained from my laughter never left my face. I looked at the piece of paper ensuring that I really did have her number, then folded and tucked it in my wallet. "I'd like to do that … I'll call you … soon."

Her words "That would be nice!" left me with a reassuring feeling that she was interested too. Life was looking up. The smile was locked on my dial for the rest of the day.

Chapter 4

I really wanted to call her that night, but I held off, not wanting to appear too eager. Better to be cool, pretend to her that going out with her wasn't quite the big deal that it really was. I had thought of very little else but Jacqueline these last three weeks, wondering how I could find her number … now I had it and couldn't wait to use it.

It pained me to wait another 24 hours, but I did and phoned her the next night after our chance meeting in the street. I tried at 6pm but it went to voicemail … I didn't leave one. I tried again at 7pm and she answered … live and in person. When I heard her lilting voice, I pictured an image of her as she said "Hi … Jacqueline here."

"Jacqueline…" My voice choked at hearing her voice and her name didn't quite come out right, I was nervous as a schoolboy. I tried again. "Jacqueline … hi, it's me … Brad … Brad Rodgers."

She didn't seem to register and was silent.

"It's Brad, Jacqueline. We met again yesterday … in the street. You gave me your number…"

"Where did we meet again?"

My heart sank. "Yesterday, in the street … oh, and before that, at the swingers' party."

"Sure Brad, I remember … I'm sorry, I like playing games. How are you tonight?"

The warmth in her voice came right through the phone … she sounded like she was smiling through every word.

"I'm … er … I'm good. You had me going there for a minute."

"Yeah, I've got this crazy sense of humour. Takes some people a while to adjust to me."

"That's fine, I like it. Listen, you said I could call you up…"

"Sure Brad."

I was so nervous, fearing a rejection. "I just wondered … if … er … if you might like to go to dinner one night … or see a movie … whatever."

"Yes Brad … that would be cool. So what do you prefer doing?"

"Well, we can't talk in a movie and I'd really like to get to know you better … so how about dinner?"

"When did you have in mind?"

"Is tomorrow night too soon?"

"Not at all, that would be great. Where do you want to go?"

"There's a good restaurant downtown … it's called Monty's."

"I think I know it … will I meet you there?"

"What about I pick you up?"

"No, we'll meet there … how about 7.30."

"That's good for me … I'll see you then."

Jacqueline was being wary, she obviously didn't intend for me to have her address until she was satisfied that I wasn't a rapist. I could live with that … for now. I was ecstatic, I actually had a date with my dream girl.

Time passed very slowly the next day. When I was able to get away from my last sales call, I hurried home to my apartment and had a quick shower to spruce up for the night. I arrived at Monty's 15 minutes early, just so I didn't keep the lady waiting.

She walked in fashionably late at 7.35. The aura that surrounded this ravishing lady ensured that the heads of every male in that restaurant spun like they were on a spindle … just to check her out. She had made a grand entrance and I wondered if she fully understood the effect that she had on men.

I bought her a drink and we talked as we slowly sipped from our glasses. At 8.00, the waiter showed us to our table and it took us half an hour to order from the menu, because we were too busy talking. All through the meal, we just talked until the food was cold for the last few bites. More talking through dessert.

Talk … talk … talk … about what, you ask. I don't know, somehow, we just jumped from one topic to another, as if we had known each other for years.

Around 11.00, the waiter had to tell us to leave. Reluctantly, I paid the bill and we got our coats and walked out into the evening chill.

"Did you drive here? I asked.

"No, I got a cab. But don't call one … can we just walk … I'd like that."

"Sure, I can think of nothing better."

She slipped her arm in mine and together we set out to walk … I enjoyed the pressure of her warm body against my arm. I wasn't quite sure where we were heading … or indeed whether she knew. But it was fun, and the talking continued. What a great conversationalist she was … and so knowledgeable and confident. I pretended I was too.

We walked about five blocks through the good part of town … suddenly, she stopped outside an impressive looking apartment building.

"You probably didn't know it, but you've been walking me home. This is where I live," she said as her eyes looked skyward, indicating that her home was somewhere on the upper floors. "I'd invite you in, but the place is a mess. Maybe some other time."

"Oh no, I guess that means our evening is over…" I left the words to float in the air, hoping that she might reconsider to extend the night.

"I'm afraid it is, Brad. I have to tell you though, that I have had the most wonderful night … you are so easy to talk to."

"I was only thinking the same thing about you."

"Would you like to do it again … sometime soon … if that's what you want?"

"Jacqueline, I would love to … when are you free?"

"I have a girlfriend coming over for dinner tomorrow night and I'm staying at my parents' home in the country on Saturday night. There is Sunday, but I like to stay in. You know, I iron my clothes for the week … all that sort of thing. What about next Wednesday?"