Having Fun with Mr. Wrong

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Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 12

by Celia T. Franklin


  “Come and sit down, Lorraine.” He pointed at the chair opposite his desk. “We need to celebrate.”

  He pulled a bottle from the small fridge to the left of his desk. It was the best he could find: Moet & Chandon, Black Label. He popped the cork. It bounced off the ceiling, and Lorraine yelped, then laughed. The husky sound pleased him. In that moment, he decided he’d make it his business to get her to laugh more often. He pulled two crystal champagne flutes from his drawer and poured out the bubbly liquid.

  Tim handed her a glass and raised his own in toast. “To us. We did it! What a team.”

  She touched her glass to his, her sensual lips quirked in a seductive smile. “To you, Professor. If it hadn’t been for your insight and ingenuity, the project wouldn’t be completed.”

  He finished his champagne and motioned for her to drink up. Then he refilled their glasses. “No, my dear, if it wasn’t for your patience and tenacity, we would never have finished the project on time.”

  He caught himself staring at Lorraine. He liked the way she dressed tonight. Her generous breasts strained against the thin paisley patterned fabric, revealing a sexy show of cleavage. She appeared to have made an effort to be more attractive. Did she take the extra efforts for him? “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  She smiled. Poor girl. She’d worked round the clock with him for the past couple of months on this project. She hadn’t had much time for a personal life lately. When was the last time she’d been on a dinner date? He downed his second glass. “Come on, young lady, finish that champagne. We need to get our buzz on.”

  She complied and finished the drink. “I think that’s enough for me, Tim.” She touched his wrist to stop him from pouring her another glass. The physical contact sent a sexual jolt directly to his groin.

  “No, it isn’t. We’re just getting the party started.” He emptied the bottle into their glasses and tossed it in the garbage can. “We’re going to hit the town.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I need to go home.”

  “We deserve to let loose. We’ve worked really hard.” The champagne buzzed in his head. She was too far away. He walked around his desk to stand in front of her.

  He grasped her hands and pulled her out of her seat. He ran his hands up her back and drew her in his arms—tight and close. She didn’t back away. In fact, she laced her arms around his neck, her fingers played in his hair. He kissed her, at first tentative, soft, and gentle. Then he thrust his tongue deeper into her warm, receptive mouth. He explored every angle, enjoying her lips, her sweet cinnamon taste. His hands roamed over her ass, and he inched her dress up just a tad higher so he could touch her thighs. She was soft and pliant in his arms and returned his kisses with enthusiasm. He kissed a trail to her ear and buried his nose in her hair. She smelled like baby powder.

  She stepped back, speaking in a quick and raspy voice. “Tim, I knew this was coming…” She turned her back to him, her shoulders slumped. “It’s wrong, and I can’t be part of it. I’m sorry.”

  He gently turned her toward him and kept his hands on her shoulders while gazing deeply in her eyes. “You feel our passion.” He moved in close to her, pushed his impending hard-on against her soft belly. “There is nothing wrong about this. About us. I’ve been waiting for you, waiting to say something until you were ready. We’re both ready. Now.”

  She eased out of his arms again. “Tim, I can’t. You’re married. I can’t do this.”

  “Lorraine, I’m in love with you.”

  God, why did he say that? In truth, he’d only just then realized it. Lorraine was his destiny, his future. With Margo, he was dead inside. Lorraine made him feel alive.

  “Tim, you don’t know what you’re saying. You have ten years invested in your marriage. This, this is wrong.”

  He heard the hesitation, the uncertainty in her voice. But her tone was unconvincing. He could tell she wavered, as though her moral barometer was triggering her conscience. He needed to show her how right this could be between them. He tugged her forward, curling her lovely body against his, and she allowed it. He kissed her neck and then unzipped her dress from behind, slipping it halfway off. He gently pushed her against the desk, feeling her incredible body against his growing erection. He wanted her so badly. Right here. Right now. She wanted him, too. He knew it.

  She pulled out from under him. “Tim, not like this. Not here.”

  He sucked gently on her neck again, nipping with his teeth. Then, he turned her around, ran his hands inside her dress, enjoyed the feel of her hips. How sweet it would be to take her from behind. But obviously not here. He growled deep in his throat. Hesitating, he took a deep breath. He zipped up her dress and turned her to face him.

  “You’re right. You deserve much better. You’re a lady and should be treated as such.” He took a moment to compose himself. “Let’s have dinner first, and then we’ll see what happens.”

  Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes dilated. The way he imagined she’d appear after sex.

  She nodded and smoothed the front of her dress. He helped her on with her coat, and then yanked on his own. They left the office hand in hand. Once outside the university grounds, Timothy quickly flagged a cab.

  “West Forty-Fourth and Fifth, please,” he told the cabbie.

  They arrived at a Greek restaurant right off Fifth. Timothy announced his name, and they were escorted to a private table in the back. He immediately ordered a bottle of champagne.

  “You had this all arranged.” Lorraine couldn’t hide her obvious delight.

  “Of course, I did. You’re my muse. My reason for being.” He kissed her hand. The waiter returned, opened the champagne, and poured them a glass. He then recited the evening’s specials. Timothy couldn’t wait for him to finish and leave.

  He gazed at Lorraine’s splendor in the soft candle light. At last, the waiter was gone. Timothy cupped her face and helped himself to a long, luxurious kiss.

  “Tim, control yourself. We’re in public. What if we’re seen?”

  “So what if we are? I don’t care. I’m with the woman I love.”

  “You need to stop saying that,” she whispered. “You’re still married.”

  “Things are going to change. Very soon.”

  He knew with every fiber of his being that Lorraine would soon be his.

  ****

  Timothy escorted Lorraine to her six-story walk-up apartment. An appealing building in a decent neighborhood filled with brownstones and upscale multifamily apartments within the university district. Nice. And how convenient it’d be for his work. Already, he had a plan in mind.

  She unlocked her door. He followed her in. Lorraine engaged the lock, the dead bolt, and then the chain lock. He felt his erection returning, certain that the locked door was his invitation to stay the night.

  With her back still to his chest, he gently hooked her delectable body against his. She let him, resting her hands on the apartment door. He unbuttoned her coat from the front, slipping off her coat along with her scarf, and dropped them onto the floor. He kissed her neck from behind while pulling off his own coat, scarf, and jacket and throwing them down to join hers. Now relieved of his outer garments, he worked on her dress, unzipping and slipping it off.

  Her skin was so milky white, so incredibly soft, he wanted to lick every inch of her.

  He kissed down along her spine, undid her bra, and took it off. Moving to her breasts, he delighted in the rubbery skin of her nipples as he rubbed and squeezed them gently. Her moans shot lightning bolts of energy to his groin. Then moving his hands downward, he hooked his thumbs in her panties and drew them down over her hips. He kissed the cheeks of her succulent ass and caressed the roundness of her hips. He was rock hard and still fully clothed, as she stood nude, pressed up against the front door.

  Tim turned her around and picked her up, losing no time in kissing her pillowy lips. He whispered, “Your bedroom?”

  “Over there.” She smi
led and pointed in the desired direction. Lorraine compliantly lay in his arms and sighed.

  Once by her bed, Tim threw back the covers. Her calico cat, disturbed from its sleep, dashed into the other room. He placed Lorraine on the bed, ran his hands down her body, over her thighs, and then spent a moment gazing at her nude body, getting harder, if that was possible. Her eyes were full of desire. She must have had the heat down because it was chilly in the apartment. But they didn’t need the heat; they’d make their own. Tim undid his tie and shirt, pulled them and his undershirt off, followed by his pants and boxer shorts. Finally naked, he dove onto the bed.

  He lay on top of her, spreading her legs with his, rubbing his member against her, enjoying the tingling sensation throughout his body. He kissed her mouth, thrust his tongue deeply in her. Her tongue met his with equal fervor as she arched her body against his. He kissed her neck and moved his mouth further down until he arrived at her voluptuous breasts and took his sweet time kissing each one, gently sucking at the nipples. He moved his hand down to the slick area between her legs and touched the inner folds, stroking to evoke her deep-throated moans of pleasure. She wiggled and squirmed against him, arousing him further.

  He so wasn’t finished with her yet.

  He kissed his way down her body until he arrived at the moist, pale, curly-haired area between her legs. He spread her legs further, then kissed and licked her essence, savoring the sweet taste of Lorraine. A taste he’d imagined during his many fantasies of her. Luscious and pure. Innocent, yet sexy as hell. Her body writhed in pleasure under him. She climaxed once. But he knew he could do better. Her pleasure, the delicious moans he dreamed about hearing, almost drove him to his own climax. But no, he wouldn’t allow himself to go so soon. He licked and sucked her to several more orgasms before it was time.

  Then, he plunged into her wet folds with one quick thrust. Pure pleasure shot through him. He rode her. They rode each other in a hot, wet, dance that made time evaporate as they rocked together until they reached a simultaneous, explosive orgasm.

  Afterward, Tim remained inside her, collapsing upon her but careful to hold the bulk of his weight off her. They remained silent, catching their breath.

  What had happened between them changed everything. He gently withdrew from her and curled her into his arms. “I love you, Lorraine. It’s our time now.”

  “But, Tim, you…What will we do?”

  “Think about what just happened between us, Lorraine. How right it felt. You know, deep down, we belong together. We don’t always understand why things happen the way they do. But the love has been gone from my marriage for a long time, and I don’t want to hear one more word of worry from those lovely lips.” He held her tight. There were more problems than his marital fracture—he’d now have to watch his every move around the university. Getting caught behaving inappropriately with a student was one thing, but having Lorraine’s reputation tainted in any way would devastate him. He’d handle it. Carefully. “You don’t need to be concerned about anything. I’ll take care of things.”

  She snuggled in closer to his chest. “Tim…that was beautiful.”

  “We are beautiful together, my dear. It’s because of the love we have for one other.”

  She didn’t say she loved him. She didn’t need to, because he knew without a doubt that she did. The way a woman should love him. The way his wife never had or never would again.

  ****

  Just back from a sales convention in Chicago, Margo arrived home on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Clear blue skies boasted the perfect weather to take a long drive with Timmy in the new car. She turned off her cell phone and planned to enjoy the entire day with him, just the two of them. Quite a while had passed since they’d spent any time together. Maybe on their impromptu drive they’d even stop at a bed and breakfast for a romantic overnight stay.

  Margo entered the house and called out for Timmy, but he didn’t answer. Strange. Maybe he was in the garage working on something. She went to the garage, but there was no sign of him there either.

  She circled back to the house, checked the pool room, the kitchen, and the outside deck where he often read, but he wasn’t around. She ran up to the bedroom and caught a glimpse of his suitcases out on the bed. She went to his walk-in closet and gasped when she saw it was nearly empty.

  What the hell was going on?

  She rang his cell. He answered on the first ring. “Timmy, I saw suitcases out, and your closet…it’s empty.”

  “Yeah, Margo. I’ll be right home.”

  He’d planned a trip and didn’t tell her? What the hell? That was so unlike Timmy. He told her everything in annoying detail, whether she wanted to hear it or not.

  Ten minutes later, he arrived home. She was sitting in the kitchen nook, sipping tea when he walked in. He looked different. Disheveled. Yet resolved, almost relaxed. The haunting reality that something had permanently changed between them registered when she noticed the absence of warmth in his eyes. The familiar friend that usually gazed at her when he’d greeted her was completely gone. Now, his gaze was stony cold, like a total stranger’s.

  “Do you want tea?” she asked.

  He took a seat opposite her. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “What’s up, Timmy? You’re going on a trip? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He stared at the tabletop and pulled at his mustache. A sense of foreboding overtook her. Then, almost predictably, he peered at her and slowly but resolutely said, “Margo, it’s over.”

  “What’s over? What do you mean?” Her heart pounded so hard she heard it in her head. She couldn’t compute the meaning of his words. The entire scenario was surreal.

  “I’m going to be direct and to the point here, Margo. There’s no other way to handle this. Our marriage is over. It’s been over for a long time. I’d like a divorce, and hopefully, we can make this as painless as possible.”

  Anger burned through her chest. Where did he get off ending a ten-year marriage just like that?

  “Timmy, where is all this coming from? We’ve been good. Yes, work has been stressful for both of us.” She shook her head trying to cancel the words he spoke. “I—I was about to ask you to go away for the weekend.”

  He threw his hands up. “That’s it, Margo. You’ve been so out of touch with me—we’ve been so out of touch—you don’t even see that we’ve drifted apart. That job of yours has robbed you of all sensibility.”

  “Don’t start with my job again,” Margo shouted but immediately calmed herself down. “I don’t understand you. We have a good marriage. I don’t get it, Timmy. We were together last week. How can this be happening?” She got up and paced the kitchen floor. Didn’t they make love, like a week ago? Oh, no, when was the last time they made love? She couldn’t remember.

  Margo’s anger dissipated, and she absorbed the gravity of situation. The reality wrapped its way around her consciousness and strangled any words she could possibly utter.

  “You can’t really be surprised,” Tim said, getting up from his seat. He moved over to her, stood in front of her, blocking her pacing yet keeping his distance. His calculated stare was downright scary as he locked eyes with her.

  “You don’t know me anymore. You don’t care about what’s going on in my life. You’re too absorbed in your work.” His words were robotic and lifeless and matched the vacancy in his eyes. “For God’s sake, you wanted to have a date night and didn’t even keep the dates. What kind of marriage is that? And by the way, when was the last time we even spent a Saturday night together?”

  She shrugged, searched her mind in vain for the right words. Any word to change his course. “We, we were at…”

  “Stop pretending, Margo. It’s been months and months. We’ve drifted apart, you have to admit it.”

  How could her Timmy be gone, just like that? Surely they could work this out? They loved each other. She put her hand on his shoulder, but he backed away from her touch. She shrank away from his coldness.


  “At least let’s sit down and talk about it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  They resumed their seats across from one another at the breakfast nook. “There’s not much to talk about. I want a divorce, and I’m hoping that we can do this as amicably as possible. I’ve packed my belongings, my clothes, and personal items. You can keep everything else.”

  Big deal. She’d bought everything else.

  “I can’t believe this is happening. You never told me you were unhappy. You haven’t even given me a chance to rectify the matter.” Panic built inside of her, clawed at her chest and throat. What would she do without him? How could she live in this house all alone? They were happy together. Weren’t they? She’d thought they were happy, anyway.

  She tried to hold it together, but the dreadful tears started to well, stinging her cheeks and she heard herself plead, “Oh Timmy, no, no, you can’t do…” He grabbed the tissue box off the kitchen counter and slid it in front of her. His strange faraway look scared her unlike anything she’d ever experienced. What happened to the Timothy she knew and loved?

  “Calm down, Margo. You’ve been living and breathing only that job for so long you won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

  Could he be right ? Slowly the reality of the truth set in. She had neglected him, ignored his needs. But was it too late? “You…you can’t throw away ten years just like that!” She blew her nose, threw the tissue on the floor, and grabbed another. She could feel the blood pooling in her head, creating an instant migraine.

  He shook his head. “I didn’t throw them away, you did. It all started when you bought this house against my wishes.”

  She dried her tears and recalled the struggle they had over the house. According to her recollection, he had finally okayed it. Well, what was there to okay? She paid for the entire transaction.

  There had to be something she could say to change his mind. It was all happening too fast. “We owe it to ourselves to seek counseling.”

  Timothy blew out a heavy sigh and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “No, Margo, it’s over. Go to counseling if you want. Maybe you’ll find out how you allowed this to happen. I’m not interested.”

 

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