they danced
together, her boobs pressing against his, she whispered in his ear
how disappointed she was that Concordia, her best friend, didn’t
catch the bouquet. She said that it meant Concordia wasn’t going to
marry just yet.
Perry smiled and reminded her that their
wedding was in two months. Marianne smiled back. Her eyes had a
lusty sheen. Her sweat, the look in her eyes, but especially her
deep cleavage exposing most of her breasts, shot an arrow of desire
through him. Marianne’s sweat dripped down from the back of her
head to her chest, meandering like a river as it entered the deep
slit in her cleavage. He loved to watch women sweat. She must have
noticed his gaze, because she laughed and told him she had
something she wanted him to see.
The next thing Perry remembered was Marianne
being alone in a dark room with him, her tongue deep in his mouth
and he sucking on it passionately, while her hand wandered around
his waist and down his pants. She stroked him intensively before
she released herself from his embrace, walked over to the window
pane, sat herself on it, lifted her dress, told him to come over,
grabbed his hand and shoved it between her legs. She wasn’t wearing
any underwear. Perry’s fingers stroke the slippery slope, gliding
inside her naturally and penetrating her with very arousing
thrusts.
He unzipped his pants and took her right
there on the window pane, unable to control his desire. He stuffed
her deep with his slender cock, howling like a wolf at a full moon.
He thrusted and thrusted, completely oblivious of the surroundings
or the fact that he was engaged and about to get married.
His senses only returned when he came,
spilling his seed inside her like toxic waste.
The sex was short but very exciting, as
forbidden sex usually is. The following day, after his head had
sobered up, Perry found himself looking for excuses, excuses on
every account to why he ended up sleeping with his fiancée’s best
friend.
It was the heat that evening, he told
himself, the heat and the music, the informal atmosphere,
Marianne’s sexy looks, her inviting cleavage, her long legs. It was
the alcohol. Yes, the alcohol was to blame the most. When Perry had
a few drinks, his sense of judgement, his sense of what was right
and what was wrong was lost. With his moral pushed to the side, he
turned into a stereotypical male whose basic instincts ruled his
conduct, not his mind and certainly not his heart. How could have
he controlled himself with a gorgeous woman leading him on?
No man would have been able to withstand the
temptation, he told himself, the temptation of having an innocent
one-night stand with no strings attached.
But women didn’t think this way. A woman was
guided by her heart and her heart was the key to her fidelity.
Concordia’s reaction was in sync with the way Perry thought about
women. They were emotional and attached themselves physically to
the partner. A woman who loved her man didn’t stray. Unlike the man
who loved his woman. For the man, feelings were irrelevant when it
came to sex. He could have sex with many, but love only one.
Perry realized he was in dire straits. His
gullibility and weakness for women who exploit men sexually brought
him in serious jeopardy. In Perry’s eyes, it was Marianne who
exploited him by seducing him. He had no wrongdoing in what had
happened. He was drunk when the sex happened, and inebriation
absolved him of responsibility.
But not the guilt.
He was ready to repent, but the odds of
Concordia accepting his apology played against him. She was
hardheaded, stubborn and rebellious, the type of a woman who would
never let a man tell her what to do.
The worst of all was the realization that
Concordia might break off the engagement. She was still a virgin.
She had been saving herself for him, and now Perry, who was to take
her virginity in the most romantic way, had betrayed her trust.
Concordia had played out the