My second Mr. Right?
Fine, call me a hipster. I’m just having so much fun meeting flings from all these dating sites and I’m not quitting anytime soon. After that fantastic time with Henry, I lied low a little—until my husband went away to a month-long business to Asia again—then decided to meet my next swing: Orson. He’s American, but they moved to France when he was 11. He came back to the U.S. after his divorce with his wife of 13 years. His profile read: “For fun, and maybe romance…” I wondered…
“So, marriage didn’t work for you, huh?” I asked him after dinner at his suites in some luxurious hotel.
“Yeah, it was a bitch,” his French accent was sexy.
“Don’t you mean ‘her’,” I joked.
“Well yeah, my ex-wife, too,” he laughed.
Men have always been thought of as the first to give up when burdened with too much marital problems. But after a couple of dates with him I began doubting that theory. He was sincere with his words, honest, very gentleman-ly. Naughty on the side, of course, but generally kind. Must be a total bitch, the, I thought of his ex.
“So your husband know you’re at the beach with your girlfriends.”
“Yes.”
“In Miami.”
“Yes.”
“What happens if he finds out you’re in the exact same continent he’s in right now?” Did I mention he’s filthy rich, too?
“Well, either he storms in here and beat you to a pulp or you shut your mouth and start kissing me already,” I took another sip of red wine.
The hotel room was very cozy, and his soft kisses made it much better. He knew I wasn’t planning on anything serious with him and he’s absolutely fine with the spending time with his flinging date looking “for fun.” His question on my husband only added thrill to the experience—that and I was in my favorite red mini dress, feeling so much of a babe than a cheating wife in need.
Orson’s lips went politely from my face to my neck… then gave my cleavage a small kiss. “You’re so beautiful tonight,” he said.
“Just tonight?” I teased, moving my knee to his crotch…
“Always,” he leaned again and this time, his tongue was playing with mine.
— Monique
