Dear Future Husband (The Matchmaker Series)

by Angel Devlin

  Jodi laughed. “You don’t think you could have started with Dear My Valentine, seeing as we’re on the run up to the supposed most romantic day of the year?”

  I lifted my shoulders. “I’d had wine.”

  The doorbell rang and in walked Finn.

  “What are you doing here? Did I forget something?”

  He shook his head. That gorgeous hair was flopping around. I wondered how soft it felt.

  “No. I decided it was time to get that suit I’m always saying I’ll have made to measure. Only Valentine’s Day is coming up and I might have a hot date. You know, one where I have to dress up in my finest.”

  “Ooooh.” Jodi said, “Do tell, because my Valentine’s is likely to be spent with Ben & Jerry and my pajamas. Who and where?”

  “Couldn’t possibly say who as I haven’t actually asked them out yet and I don’t know where because I only thought of it last night and so I need to look around.”

  “But you want a suit even though you don’t actually have a date or anywhere to go? You get weirder.” I rolled my eyes at him while trying not to think too hard about why I was acting snippy with him about it.

  “Says the person mailing letters addressed to her future husband to strange men.”

  “Okay, okay, you two. You’re both weird.” Jodi interrupted. “Comes to something when I’m the most well-adjusted after a date set up by my mother went awry. Anyway, why didn’t you just let Ella measure you at the apartment?”

  “I’m not having her anywhere near my inside leg.” Finn looked at Jodi in horror. “She might use it as an excuse to molest me.”

  “In your dreams.” I shot back. “Anyway, I wouldn’t go anywhere near your lower end with the rancidness of the fart you did last night.”

  “Are all customers treated this shabbily?” Finn addressed Jodi.

  “Come on through to the back, Finn. Let’s get you measured up.” Jodi was doing her best not to grin, but I could see the telltale signs. She thought the sun shone out of Finn’s ass and couldn’t understand why I hadn’t ‘accidentally’ sleepwalked into his bed.

  It’d crossed my mind believe me. But no, we were roommates, and he was great to live with. I didn’t want to ruin that. Plus, he didn’t think of me that way at all. He treated me like one of his dudes, hence letting rip right at the side of me.

  No. All I needed to do now was wait for Grace’s magic matchmaking skills and the mail service.

  Saturday, January 12, 2019

  After waiting every morning for the mail, a package finally arrived from What The Heart Wants. I actually squealed out loud.

  “Keep it down. Me and the boys had a big night last night.” Finn yelled from his room.

  I picked up the mail and tiptoed into the kitchen, placing the package on the table. I was dying to tear the envelope open, but I wanted to do it properly, with a bit of ceremony, so I fixed the machine to make me a coffee, brought my drink to the table and sat down.

  I tore open the envelope.

  There was a letter with the ‘What The Heart Wants’ letterhead and two envelopes, one plain white, one pink.

  I read the official letter.

  Dear Ella

  I must start with an apology.

  As you know I do everything by hand, but I am in the midst of putting some of my business online and automated. My assistant got confused with your application and so as well as the person I physically matchmade you up with, she had your perfect partner chosen on the computer too.

  It left me in a bit of a quandary as to what to do for the best, so in the end I decided I would send your details to both suitors. Both of their letters are enclosed. It is entirely up to you whether you choose to correspond with one or both of them for the duration of the three letters.

  My heartfelt apologies and I am refunding half of your fee as a goodwill gesture.

  Hoping you find your perfect match. You have double the chance of everyone else!

  Love, Grace.

  I sat back straight on my seat, astonished. I had two. TWO potential husbands? So one of them must have been sent my letter electronically I guessed.

  I opened the plain white envelope and sure enough there was a handwritten letter, but one that had been scanned through an electronic system. I placed it down and picked up the pink envelope. I noticed it had a smell to it. Picking it up, I sniffed it and realized it was my favorite men’s aftershave. It was a really popular one. Finn wore it and so did Audrina’s brother (who was also Casey’s boyfriend). It put this guy in the lead for me so far. I began reading.

  Dearest Future Wife

  Thank you for your recent letter. I decided to wholeheartedly embrace your idea of conversing with you as a potential future partner! Why not?

  I’m Gavin, I’m twenty-eight, and I work in a library. I adore literature. Poetry, fiction, biography. You name it, I’m a fan. I do also enjoy movies, but I’d rather read the book if it’s an adaptation.

  Exercise wise, a stroll in the park sounds good. I do like to visit the gym a few times a week to keep myself in peak condition but also love fresh air.

  I too have both my parents, along with an annoying younger brother who is the same size as me in clothes and calls around to my apartment when I’m not there and ‘borrows’ them.

  My ideal date would be a meal somewhere very romantic, maybe with a scenic backdrop, soft music and candlelight.

  Is it too forward to say that I hope one day to be a father? I’d like at least one child but as many as makes my future wife happy. I hope I’ve not scared you away with that comment, but we seem to be saying we’ll give these letters our all!

  Music wise I like classical. If you play Taylor Swift, I shall forgive you (and wear noise cancelling headphones).

  Hope to hear back from you soon.

  Gavin.

  Taking a long sip of my coffee, I read the letter through a second time and a third, trying to commit its contents to memory. I then went through it slowly line-by-line as if more about him would appear from my in-depth explorations.

  I placed it down on the table almost reverently, not wanting to get any marks on it, and I picked up the second letter–the scanned one–and began reading.

  Hi, Mrs. X!

  Fantastic to receive your letter and for us begin the process of getting to know each other. I’ve decided to keep my name a secret until after letter three. I hope you don’t mind. Just thought it might add to the mystery. So you can call me Mr. X.

  I’m 6 feet tall, have dark hair, dark eyes and a body built for sin.

  You can play Taylor Swift. We can fuck to it.

  My ideal date would be to come pick you up from your apartment. I’d be in a dinner suit and you’d be in a sheer, silky gold dress with a deep ‘V’ at the back showing a little curve just above your ass. We’d have had these reservations for ages, for a high-end establishment, and yet we’d risk missing the reservation as I pushed you against the wall claiming your mouth with mine. My hand would be fisted in your hair, tipping your head back so that I could trail kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, eliciting goose bumps and shivers. My hand would grasp the material of your gown and hitch it up above your hip where I’d find you weren’t wearing panties, which you’d tell me was because you didn’t want a visible panty line but I would know it’s because you’re horny as fuck and your wet pussy would confirm that as I dipped a finger in that slick heat.

  I noticed my mouth was ajar. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Yet, despite the fact a small part of me was saying throw the letter away, it was rude and impolite; the other part of me wanted to read on, and to be honest my own pussy was cheering on the imagined scenario. So I carried on reading.

  You arch against my finger as I curl it in just the right way. Bringing that finger to my lip I suck on it, my eyes staring into your hooded gaze. I make a joke about us leaving now and you pull me back to you, kissing me with an intensity that has me loosening my suit pants there and then. My cock n
udges against you, accepted into your slick heat and I thrust deep inside, listening to your groans and your little mewls as I push you against the wall again and again. My finger returns to find your nub and I rub against it, creating the friction you need so that along with my cock, you can’t control yourself and you scream my name as I take you over the edge, your pussy milking my cock of every last drop. We sink against the wall, our foreheads together for a moment or two, and then we clean up and grab a cab, arriving fashionably late for our reservation. All the way in the cab we give each other knowing looks and as we apologize for our late arrival, we know we don’t mean it. We also know we won’t stay around for dessert because we’ll be too eager to get back home for a repeat performance.

  X.

  That was it. He told me relatively little about himself, just about how he would fuck me. I was so confused. And horny.

  Confused and horny.

  I read it again. Oh my, I was so wet. I needed to get myself off.

  Taking the letter, I went back to my bedroom. Snores were coming from Finn’s room so I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed.

  God, I was disgraceful. But it was such a hot scenario!

  Climbing into bed, I held the letter in one hand and stuck my other under the covers and down my pajama bottoms. Unsurprisingly, I found myself wet and ready.

  I began to read the letter again. Then I discarded it on the bed as I closed my eyes, letting my imagination take over.

  My fingers swept my clit as I imagined the mysterious Mr. X having dragged up my gown to find me wanting and wet.

  I placed two fingers together and imagined they were his cock, pushing them inside my wet core and thrusting my hips upward.

  Though I was so very close, something was missing, and I realized I wanted to be against the wall, acting out this fantasy as close to reality as I could get.

  Climbing out of bed almost in a sexual frenzy, I stood against my bedroom wall, pulling my pajama top up a little so I could feel the cold of the wall against my back, imagining it was the bare flesh exposed by my low-cut dress. I closed my eyes and fucked my fingers. My back pushed against the wall as my excitement grew. I placed a finger from the other hand against my clit and rubbed, exactly as the letter said. Then I was coming—hard—over my hand, and a groan escaped me. I was powerless to stop it because I was coming harder than I ever remembered coming before. I felt like a puddle of goo and I headed for my bed, closing my eyes and letting sleep overcome me.

  Finn

  I heard the clatter of the mail and then what sounded like an elephant running to the front door. For a small woman, Ella sure made a lot of noise. She’d been like this for days now. Like an Olympic athlete to the front door, only to usually moan with disappointment when there was nothing there. Then she was grumpy as fuck.

  But this morning it would appear the hoped-for mail had arrived as she squealed like a practicing opera singer. I’d had a heavy night last night with my friends and it pierced my skull. I told her to keep it down. After that I heard her go to the kitchen and put on the coffee machine. There was silence so I knew she was reading. I imagined her reaction to her mail, and I waited for her to scream out about disgusting pigs, but she didn’t. I fell back to sleep.

  Glancing at the clock, I saw I’d only been out about twenty minutes or so. I felt like something woke me up. Then I heard it again. A weird noise against the wall separating my room from Ella’s. What the fuck was she doing? It sounded like something was brushing the wall. She was never cleaning at this time in the morning? She knew I’d got a freaking hangover. Maybe it was a stress reaction to the letter? You see I may have contacted Grace Graham and asked if I could send some mail myself as a little experiment. The woman herself had called me and we had had a little chat about what I wanted to do. So I knew exactly what Ella had received this morning because I had written that explicit letter myself. It was everything I wanted to do to Miss Ella Cassidy and couldn’t.

  I was going to show Ella that you couldn’t know who your match was from a letter. That you could be writing to absolutely anybody. That the person could be right in front of your nose, but you’d believe they were some other person from what they wrote to you. I was surprised Grace agreed to it, given she was supposed to make the matches, not have them dictated to her, but she said she felt it was worth trying. Maybe her business wasn’t doing as well as she made out?

  I heard a groan. The unmistakable sound of Ella coming. I’d heard her before. She might think she was quiet, but the walls were thin. Then her feet padded away from the wall.

  Had she come against the wall?

  What was she doing?

  Then a thought zapped across my mind, the scene in glorious Technicolor. No! Had she just acted out the scenario in my letter? The thought itself was enough that I had to wrap my hand around my girth and jerk myself off.

  Ready to hit the shower, I woke myself up with a relatively cool one, wrapped a towel around my waist, and headed back to my room. Soft snores came from Ella’s room. Bless her, even her snores were cute. I very gently opened her door a little to see her curled up under her covers, mouth open. She looked so peaceful. I also saw that the letter I sent had fluttered onto the floor.

  She really did get off to it!

  Once I was dry, I made some fresh coffee and saw that the other letter was discarded on the kitchen table. Hmm, she may say she wanted hearts and flowers, but it would appear that Ella was most attracted to the thought of hot, rampant sex.

  Result!

  Ella

  When I woke up and realized where I was, back in bed after a rampant masturbation session, my cheeks flushed with an incinerating heat. I showered and dressed and made my way to the kitchen because I needed another coffee, and now I needed something to eat too because it was past lunchtime and I was ravenous.

  Finn was sitting at the kitchen table, the letter addressed to ‘my dearest wife’ at the side of him.

  “I don’t suppose you haven’t read it?”

  He lifted his hands. “You left it out on the kitchen table. I’m a nosy fucker. Course I read it. Then I puked, rinsed my mouth, and came back to the kitchen table for more coffee.”

  I pulled my lips into a saccharine smile. “Ha ha.”

  “So you like this then? Is this what you were looking for in your ideal man?”

  Even though surprisingly I was more taken in by the ‘I would fuck you’ letter, there’s no way I can back down now. Plus, the guy did sound nice. I’d already decided to write back to both of them. I may as well see where both got me.

  “Absolutely. Later this evening I will settle down on the couch and pen my next letter to Gavin, my potential future husband.”

  Finn mock shivered. “God, it just seems so creepy. He could weigh six-stone and be riddled by acne.”

  “And if it’s true love, I’d love him anyway.” I protested, even though we both knew I couldn’t stomach those pimple-popper clips on the internet and so would be likely to vomit all over my potential future skin-challenged husband.

  Finn stood up.

  “Where are you going? You’ve not finished your coffee.”

  “I was just off to find my violin.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He winked which made my cheeks heat again, this time in a cold fury.

  I poured myself a coffee and picked up my letter again. “So is your head better now?”

  “Yeah, I just needed a few extra hours in bed. All good now, or it will be after this coffee. I was thinking of making some bacon and egg. Fancy it?”

  My stomach growled in appreciation.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  While he stood cooking, Finn told me about his drinking escapades. He didn’t mention any women but I’m sure there would have been some hanging around; hanging off his every word, like he was a god.

  “So what are your plans today?” He asked me.

  “I’m going to make a dress.” I told him. “I’m going to pop out for some m
aterial and then do some prep.”

  “Can’t you leave work at home for once? We could catch a movie or something.”

  “No, I really want to make this dress.”

  “There’s a classic with Doris Day on this afternoon.”

  “It’s in my head; I need to make it.”

  “It’s a mild day, we could walk around Central Park?”

  “I’m making the dress.”

  “Fuck, it must be something sensational if you’re all consumed. What’s so important about it?”

  “Err.” How could I tell him it featured in a fantasy in a letter he didn’t know I received?

  “I dreamed it. You know when I went back to bed. I was so tired and now I’m so glad I decided to catch a couple more hours because this dress is going to be amazing, and it’s not work, because it’s for me. I need to go get some gold silk or satin like material. It’s a dress for an elegant evening out. One I don’t even have planned, Finn, but I just have a burning desire to make it. I can clearly picture it in my mind.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your burning desires. I’ll take off and hit the gym, and then I’ll do some work myself. Probably go to HappBEANness. I’ll take my laptop out with my gym bag. Might as well get ahead on the work while you go all boring and obsessed on your latest project.”