Hello Gorgeous

by Sherry J. Cook

  He had a short haircut and was balding badly on the crown of his head. He must have been no taller than me and had a reddish complexion. He wore glasses at all times and had a squeaky voice. He did have a nice smile and when he smiled it was almost like he was flashing a neon bill board stating, that he hadn’t been laid in years! Well we would end that soon enough I imagined.

  After dinner and a couple drinks we came back to my house made our way to the sofa and began kissing. He was uncomfortable I could tell. Had it been ages since he had even kissed a woman? We necked and then his hands started groping my crotch area and before long he had his hands in my panties and was rubbing me causing a slight wetting sensation. This was causing him to get hard and with each rub he became like a rabid animal doing everything within his power to overtake his prey. Soon he raised his body and sat in my lap and pulled the spaghetti strap of my dress off my shoulder and began tugging at my nipple with his mouth. He wanted me and wanted me bad. I was playing with his emotions and wasn’t sure if I wanted to allow him to have me sexually or not. We kissed and undressed before long and I finally gave in and ask him to move to the bed so if we were going to fuck we would at least be comfortable. I pulled the bronze duvet cover back and the soft pink sheets revealed underneath were cool to the touch and inviting as we lay there together. He reached in his pocket, took out a handful of condoms and put one on his long lean dick, even his genitals were unusual, and unlike the large long girth ones I’d been having the delight in seeing the past months. He finally got the condom on and mounted me in the typical missionary style position doing everything he could to get his skinny dick inside me before it blasted its wad all over the place.

  Adam was frustrated and I just wanted to laugh it was like it was his first time ever. He couldn’t get in the right position, couldn’t get the condom to stay up, he was in a hurry for some strange reason and then I found out why. Suddenly he blew it, the sperm went everywhere, he winced in pain but I felt sure it was a good pain at least I hoped so. He immediately began to apologize for not making it inside me before he came and I couldn’t hold it any longer I burst out laughing. He didn’t know how to take that but I made it easy for him, and told him, how was he to know that I loved it when a man ejaculated on my belly and breasts, that it was fine, that penetration wasn’t necessary and I was enjoying the moment. All I could think was what a dork!

  He began talking telling me it had been ages and he was so sorry he was embarrassed even that he hadn’t been able to control his wad long enough to insert himself into my now sticky vaginal opening. I was miserable but, had enjoyed our time together. At the moment I didn’t care if we saw each other again or not. Sex was not that good, obviously, and besides I still had Connery for good sex any day of the week when I so desired, so Adam was just a tryst a thing, a toy to play with for a while, if he wanted to hang around. So Adam joined the long list of men that I met on occasion to have sexual encounters with. Now I was playing the deceiving game, when had the game turned and put me in this position?

  Little did I realize that night that Adam and I would end up dating until February, we would go out on Valentines weekend, do Tequila shots at the Tequila bar in town and after he brought me home that night we made love on the sofa. When he left a little after three a.m. that would be the last time I would ever see him again until almost a year later. I had begun to fall for Adam, but he had no idea, I had never let on that my feelings were becoming more than just a casual thing but in the end things happen for a reason, so I was glad I had never shared those thoughts with him. To have lost him so fast would have been more devastating than it was. I had begun to even think maybe I could live with him, give it a go, if the subject ever came up. He had money, a good job, similar interests as me and he loved dogs. But things turned out differently and I was okay with it in the end.

  After Adam and during the months that followed our first date, since we had never spoken of our relationship being exclusive I dated many other men from the dating sites. In fact I stepped up the pace and got back into the routine of dating two or three different men on any given weekend, always having Connery there during the week and Franklin almost every other week or weekend depending on his work schedule. So I wasn’t going without if anything I was getting sex more often now, than I had in the summer months when Connery and I had been meeting so many times a day and almost every day of the week.

  Adam was history and it was time to move one.

  Anthony came next he was very young; he had a fourteen year old son at home that lived with him. He lived further than most men I had dated. To get to the island he had to come across the ferry every trip. That sometimes would take up to or longer than an hour one way. He was dark, olive skinned with a partial bald head but the hair that remained was dark no gray in site. He sported the beard in form of a goatee and had the mustache to match. He was slightly overweight but was just a living doll.

  He’d hurt his knee recently and just completed a second surgery on it shortly before we met. So sex with him would be interesting. Would he be able to carry his own weight when it came to getting it on with me, if it got that far? We had many conversations on the phone in the evenings when he got home from work, we talked about our dreams and the places we had always wanted to visit. Both of us had dreamed of going to Africa at least one time in our lives so it was fun to have someone to dream of these things about with. He and I dated a few times. He was of the younger generation and man-scaped his genital area. He shaved all the pubic hair completely off and when we would be together it would sting and prick me so much that it gave me a burn similar to a razor burn and I would be sore for days afterwards. On about our third date together he had come down early in the wee hours of the morning and had told his son that he was coming to the beach to watch the sunrise but would be home that afternoon by the time he arrived home from school. Anthony and I were hot together he knew how to perform and did it well, but we were in the heat of passion when suddenly his knee snapped and all I could hear was the roar of his voice in pain from the anguish he was feeling. He froze and told me to be still while he recomposed himself. Slowly he was able to get off of me and lie on his back. He was in tears it appeared to me. But of course he said nothing of how much he was hurting but only how embarrassed he was for having to stop so soon. It hadn’t affected me either way for I was so sexually active that one guy not cuming wasn’t going make any difference to me one way or the other. I had become, again, a woman with an unquenchable appetite for sex and some would have labeled me a prostitute except I had never accepted a dime from one man ever for sex!

  So with the injury we didn’t see each other again and I went on about my business continuing to see other men as frequently as I had always been, never denying Franklin or Connery the opportunity to be with me regardless of the number of dates I might have on any given day, they always came first.

  There were many men still for me to see, many still emailing me, messaging me on the dating site wanting to meet me.

  Grant, the mechanic was one. We never became anything more than friends but even after his persistent approach to befriend me I had finally given in to meet him but he was nothing more than just that to me, a mechanic friend whom I could call if I needed a question answered about my car. He was always there for me for those instances. Grant was a sweetheart and would make the right woman probably the best husband a woman could want, but he wasn’t what I wanted in a man. So we stayed friends, never lovers.

  Kyle, Paul, David, John, and Tom were just a few more of the many men that would grace my door, some more than others but only a couple would ever make it to the bedroom with me. David and Tom had just enough tenacity to finally get what they were after.

  Tom had looked like Popeye to me in a quirky way. He was an x sailor and stood 6'7” tall lean, very attractive and he could cook like no man I knew. He loved to make pies so we always enjoyed making homemade pie crusts togeth
er in the kitchen. His arms wrapped around me, kneading the dough together on the cabinet while he nibbled on my neck. Tom was fun in his own way but he was still in love with his last girlfriend and was never able to break those ties with her to commit to a new relationship with me or anyone else so after a while I just let him slip back into her arms where he so desired to be.

  David was kinky, he liked to slap and be rough, but he never came to visit me without a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was educated and quite formal in many ways. The tall, dark and handsome type, the kind of man I imagined, as the boss at a firm, where the secretary and he would hide away at some local hotel on lunch breaks fucking each other’s brains out then returning to the workplace acting like nothing had ever happened between them. David was not my type I wasn’t into spanking and tying each other up so we didn’t last but a couple of dinners together and oh yes of course the ultimate dessert afterwards!

  September was over and Connery had again drifted away. We had not been seeing each other as often for some reason and as October rang in we grew farther apart. I was so into Franklin that I hadn’t really minded Connery not being there all the time but had wondered if he was ok. He just never seemed to come clean with me about his life but I supposed by now it didn’t matter. I was just going to continue on as I had been and if we broke it off well I would be sad and miss him but I didn’t feel like that was it either. The mystery about him had crept back into my thoughts. More than just a little, the presence of his mysteriousness was there a lot now. I had to find out what it was if it killed me. This time I started pursuing information about him from all angles, everything I could do to dig deeper into to finding out who the real Connery was included me digging into his job, his normal routine, his family, the little I knew about them. Still no signs of a woman in his life but surely there was is what I had always felt, but never could be certain.

  One day I decided to Google his name again, dig a little deeper into his online history open for the public to see. I found that he had been married to one woman and the address listed still showed Louisiana, there was a second woman on the listing as well, could this be his mother, sister, or was it wife number two possibly? While reading this information about him I read that he had lived just down the street from my place of employment, this puzzled me could this be the man that I had observed often from the large pane windows of the shop? Could this have been him? I had always noticed him on his porch in the morning and the evening after work.

  As I dwelt on the possibility of this actually being the same man, I remembered that one of the women I had worked with at that location once had mentioned she knew the couple that lived in that house, the one where I had watched him on occasion outside on his porch.

  I decided to figure out a way, indiscreetly as I could to ask my x coworker about this couple, Terry was her name and when she had referenced the subject at hand she had always used the word couple so could this be it, he was with a woman all this time. Now I was determined to find out, get to the bottom of this mysterious man. If he was married I would be devastated for I had fallen in love with him, or with his dick for sure and our encounters. I was addicted to him I couldn’t and wouldn’t let him go, not yet. I would fight for him maybe even persuade him to leave her and come be with me if possible. What would I do? I was in a state of panic, for if my coworker knew him and as often as she and I had discussed the dating sites and all the men I was seeing how was it I had never mentioned his name to her for that would have blown it all out of the water before we had gotten so involved with each other.

  So one day in a casual setting I approached Terry, mentioned that couple and tried to get her to talk about them but she was evasive and too busy to discuss them at the time, so I just dropped the subject. Somehow I was going to find out.

  Out of thin air, like someone had just dropped a bomb in the same room with me it came to me. How I might be able to find out more about him, look him up on Facebook!

  Facebook, that’s how I could know! I would look him up; if he was honest he would have put his birthday, marital status, favorite things and even photographs of himself and his mysterious family on the site for all to view.

  I couldn’t wait to get home from work that weekend and get on the computer and find him. Even though I wasn’t sure of what kind of picture he might have posted as himself I figured it couldn’t be too difficult to scroll through Connery Jacksons on Facebook for that was an unusual name and most likely there wouldn’t be too many with that exact name.

  Upon arriving home I threw down my belongings ran to the computer booted it up and waited to log in to the public forum none as Facebook and see if he was there, married or not married. How would I handle this if he showed himself as married? What if there were pictures of a wife with him how would I really feel? What would I do?

  Chapter 20

  Facebook popped up on my computer screen. I couldn’t even read the postings for the day, from my friends. I was consumed with locating his profile and finally once in for all, finding out the truth about him. I wasn’t sure if I was really ready to know, but it was past time to open up, to be honest, taking it for what it was worth. If he cared for me at all, it wouldn’t matter what I found there on his profile page. I was past the point of caring if there was another woman a wife I didn’t care anymore, but I wanted to know so what harm would it cause to finally know the truth after months into the sexual relationship we now had shared.

  There was the list of Connery Jacksons, only three listed. This wouldn’t take long! I began to tremble with fear. If he was married he might decide to dump me, move on in fear of me tearing his world to pieces, going to his wife! Or even to Terry and sharing the brief slightest bit of information about he and I. Would she go straight to the woman he was with if there was one or just tear me to shreds for having an affair with a taken, possibly married man. I didn’t want to know! As I opened up the first Connery Jackson file I knew immediately it wasn’t my Connery, for this was an African American man. So I quickly closed and moved on to the next one. Slowly I hit the key to open the next profile, there was no profile picture so I would have to read some of their basic information to see if I could determine if this was him or not.

  After reading a bit and viewing a few of the public pictures I realized that this Connery Jackson lived in another State. How had I missed that at the beginning of the profile info?

  On to the third and final Connery Jackson, I closed my eyes briefly for I knew, I just knew this was going to be his page. I took a deep breath and hit the button opening the profile picture up, it was him! It was a picture of what he really looked like, not one of those unknown men pictures like so many men had used on the dating sites, as had Connery. It was the real Connery Jackson, the one I had been seeing now for months, meeting daily for sex.

  I read his bio, the birthday matched with what he had told me months ago, the location of his home was correct. His education status was all there and correct. As I moved on to the next page of information I read his notations of his favorite TV shows, favorite actors, books, and movies, it all matched with what he had discussed with me on many occasions regarding these specific subjects.

  As I got to the final page on his profile I paused, did I really want to know if he was married or not, would I be angry at me, or at him, for living a lie for all these months. I had never sought out to destroy a marriage and the fact that we lived just blocks from each other would make it miserable for me, who knows I might have even met her before, talked with her, seen her in the design store visiting with Terry. Was I really ready for this?

  I clicked the tab and there it was as big as the sky “MARRIED”, to Abigail Ritchey.

  There were a few assorted pictures of her on his page of photos so I viewed each one with pain staking precision and observed everything there was to observe about her. Why had he lied why hadn’t he just told me? I was sadden to
some degree but as well relieved to finally know the truth. Yes there was a wife, and she had been there all along.

  Abigail Ritchey, she hadn’t even used his last name as her own. She was beautiful, fair skinned, with beautiful thick shoulder length flowing almost black hair. She had a huge smile, and for all apparent reasons seemed like she was happy. The few pictures of them together were simple posed pictures taken in local locations here on the island. She looked nothing like the kind of woman he always spoke of when we talked about the look of the women he enjoyed being with. He had always said he preferred blondes over them all and he hadn’t like the skinny model type, but women with a little meat on them instead. The picture of the wife was just the opposite of everything he had said he liked. Had all this been a lie as well. Had he married a woman that was nothing like his deepest desires, why had they married, there were no children at least he had been honest about that.

  What was I going to do? I never set out to destroy someone’s life, his especially or now surely not his wife’s. I wondered what I would have felt like if William had been in an affair with a woman how would I have reacted. What would I have done, how would I have approached this terrifying new information as the wife of a man cheating for months with another woman. I felt so sorry for Abigail momentarily. I felt deathly sick, angry; a whole barrage of feelings overcame me. I felt sorry for this woman, she had no idea of the turmoil she would soon be enduring in the future with a man like Connery or did she?

  His profile noted that they had just been married a couple years, but together for about seven years total. I read and reread his profile information over and over, allowing all the information to sink in, if it ever would.

  Now, how would I approach him, how would I let him know I knew the truth? I contemplated options and finally it came to me, of course send him a friend request! A friend request would go to his email address and he would see then that I had found his Facebook page and now knew the truth. How would he react? Would he friend me or ignore me. I would have to face him eventually and we would have the inevitable conversation. But for now this seemed the most indiscreet way to approach him. I knew he was always on the computer and would surely see the email request and know instantaneously that I had found out his mystery, finally.