Seduction Ch. 03: Romance

Seduction 3: Romance

I would like to thank theVikingSailor, who recommended that I write a sequel to Seduction Ch 1: Slow with a flashback to better detail the ending. This story takes place about three years after Susan's ill-fated date. It is not necessary to read that story first, but there will be spoilers in this one if you read that one later.

This story is a little less believable than my others. Okay, a lot less. But wildly unlikely coincidences and outrageous behavior seem to be common in fiction, so, begging a little extra suspension of disbelief, I present the following:

Bob

It's Friday afternoon and I'm getting ready to go on a business trip. I know it's strange to leave on a Friday for a business meeting on Monday, but after flying from Atlanta to LA I would get pretty jet-lagged. I'll spend the weekend relaxing and seeing some sights. Sometimes, I even take my wife, Cheryl, with me on these trips. I even took her on a week-long trip to London once. She took the week off, and we were together both weekends, and she got to tour London by herself during the day when I was busy.

I go to a diner next to my office building and get a cup of coffee. I'll go over my notes and make sure I have everything. I could do it in my office, of course, but here I won't be interrupted.

There are three men about my age sitting in the booth next to mine. I can hear one of them finishing a story. "So, I gathered up the paperwork and get up to leave her apartment. As I got to the door, I leaned over and kissed her. She could just have given me a quick kiss like last time, and it would just have been friendly. Instead, the kiss started to get intense -- like she's really getting into it, you know? She was wearing a kind of sundress, with a thin strap that ties around her neck. I undid the bow and the dress just fell off her. Just like I thought, she wasn't wearing a bra. I don't even think she realized she was practically naked until I started playing with her ass. Well, once you get her naked, the rest is easy. Man, she was a great fuck."

I hear them laughing and congratulating him. Then one of them asks, "Are you going to keep doing her?"

"I don't know. Afterwards, she got all weepy, like she just realized that she had cheated on her husband. But she walked me to the door, still naked, and gave me a really nice kiss as I left. I'll give her a little time, though.

"But what about you? How's it going with that woman you're chasing? Wait, here comes Ralph."

Well, I thought, this is more interesting than reviewing my notes. Cheryl is into romance novels. Maybe she'd enjoy hearing about a real seduction, and we can have a good laugh. I turn on the voice recorder on my phone.

"Hey, Ralph, glad to see you're finally back. You've been missing out - you gotta hear this. Go ahead, Seymour. Start from the beginning."

Seymour: "A couple of months ago I saw this good-looking blonde eating lunch by herself. She had a paperback next to her. It's worn and dog-eared, like she read it many times and marked her favorite passages. On the cover was a picture of a blond woman embracing a man with long brown hair that looked a lot like mine. I figured this could give me a way in, so I read the title and bought myself a copy.

"It was perfect. The story involves a young French soldier who seduces a married woman. There's a long relationship with many small steps that I can imitate. They end up in bed just before he leaves. She never sees him again, which is just perfect for me. I'm more about the pursuit than the capture. This way she won't be disappointed when I disappear, since that's what she wants."

Ralph: "I don't get it. It's much easier to get a girl in bed the after you've already done it. I would think you'd want to continue."

Seymour: "Yeah, but then there's too much chance of getting caught. If my wife sees me having lunch with someone, I can honestly say it was perfectly innocent, and she can't prove anything different. Because, up to then, it was. So, I only seduce a few sluts a year. I work on them for a few months, but only spend one night with each one."

Ralph: "Love 'em and leave 'em!"

Other voices: "Fuck 'em and forget 'em!" "Hit it and quit it!" "Screw and bolt!"

Seymour laughs: "Alright, alright. So let me go on. The book gave me a fucking blueprint, pun intended. I couldn't be French, as I don't speak the language, and I couldn't be a soldier with my long hair. But I took Italian in high school, so I could fake that -- not well enough to fool a real Italian, but enough to fool her. I became Reynaldo, cultural attaché with the Italian consulate."

Ralph: "Did you try to fake an Italian accent?"

Seymour: "Hear the words of a master. When you lie, don't go for too much. Try to stick to as much truth as possible. She did ask me about it later, so I told her I went to Georgia State, which is true, and I lost my accent there.

"Anyway, I went to her table and said, 'Hello. My name is Reynaldo. May I join you?' She looked up at me, then got a strange look in her eyes. She stammered for a bit, then just smiled and nodded. I ate lunch with her and we chatted, just friendly. I started coming by every few days, and she would invite me to sit with her.

"I tried to follow the book. I knew I had to go slowly, since this was I was following a romance novel, not porn. The first few weeks, we just talked. I had to show her that I had a shy, sensitive soul."

Everybody started laughing. Someone said, "Seymour, if you can pull that off, you deserve an Oscar!"

Seymour: "It was easy. All I had to do was read what was in the book, change it enough so it wouldn't be recognized, and adapt it to modern times. And I think she wanted to believe, anyway. All the while, we shared discrete touches, like brushing her fingers when she passed me the salt.

"Let me tell you my greatest bit. In the book, they're walking down the street when a little girl walks up and asks him if he would buy a flower for his ladylove. He buys her a rose and puts in her hair. It was the most intimate touch they had shared.

"Well, we don't have flower girls today. But there's a florist down the street from her office. Before lunch, I bought a rose, but told the owner I was going to put it in the display he had outside. I was going to come by with my girlfriend and pretend to steal it. He laughed and agreed.

"I suggested we take a walk after lunch and she agreed. As we passed the florist, I looked at the owner and he winked. I picked up my rose, grabbed her hand and started running. The florist played along and yelled, 'Hey!' We ran down the street hand in hand, laughing, and turned into an alley. I pulled her into a little recess in a doorway.

"This crossed a lot of lines. First, we did something together that we weren't supposed to do. That created a bond, and made it easier for her to do more things we weren't supposed to do. Second, we held hands, which is a really big step. Third, the recess was small, so we were pressed together as we hid from pursuit. Most importantly, I gave her a rose, which was a big moment in the book. Women don't wear flowers in their hair any more, but once the coast was clear I gave her a quick kiss as we walked out, which I felt was an equivalent intimacy. It worked, because she squeezed my hand as we walked around the block to her office."

Ralph: "Seymour, I'm in awe! You are one devious motherfucker."

Seymour: "There were a few more romantic steps I had to work through, but then there came a big step that she had to take. In the book, they are walking in a garden when she pulls him into a secluded area and gives him a passionate kiss. This is the first moment of sexual intimacy for them. He slides his hand into her blouse and plays with her breasts. They arrange to meet for dinner a few days later at an inn outside of town. They spend the night there and he leaves the next day, never to return.

"Monday, she suggested we have a quick lunch and take a walk in a city park that was two blocks away. She was wearing a jacket, which was strange as the weather was warm. When we finished eating, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and came out a minute later, a little red in the face. We got to the park, and she blushed and took off her jacket. I saw that she had taken off her bra and undone the top three buttons of her blouse. Well, that was a clear invitation!

"She must have already scouted the place out, because she led me straight to a little forested area and pulled me inside. The kiss was intense. I had gotten an erection from the anticipation and from watching her breasts sway under her thin blouse and she pushed into it. I helped by pulling her into me and grinding. I remembered my role and put my hand into her blouse and caressed her breasts. I would have liked to have been a little more forceful, but the book said the caress was soft and gentle. Still, she was moaning into the kiss and practically humping me. She shivered and I think she even had a small orgasm. I probably could have just thrown her down and fucked her right there, but I knew that following the script would give me a whole night.

"After a few minutes, she pulled back and said, 'My husband will be out of town Friday night.' I said, 'I would love to take you to dinner that night. May I pick you up at seven?' She gave me another lingering kiss and slipped me a piece of paper with her address.

"I remembered there was one last important step. I told her that it would be the last time I would see her, as I had been recalled back to Italy, and was leaving Saturday afternoon. She smiled and said, 'Then we shall make it a night to treasure for the rest of our lives.'

"So, friends, in less than three hours 'Reynaldo' will be picking up a lovely married slut, I mean lady, for a night of unbridled passion."

I hear the sound of everybody giving him high fives. I suddenly jump. The time! I have to get to the airport. As I run out, I look over at the group and recognize the man who has to be Seymour. He has brown hair down to his shoulders, dark eyes, a handsome face and wears an expensive suit.

I rush to my car and head out to the airport. As I drive, I start thinking. I know he couldn't be talking about Cheryl. But she was into romance novels, and did work downtown. And I was leaving on a trip tonight. I realize I had to make sure. But how? If I call her and accuse her of cheating, she'll be really pissed if it's not her.

As I park my car at the airport, I have an idea. I send her the audio file of Seymour bragging about his date with a slut. It's a little before five, so she should still be at the office. I'll call her and tell her about it, and see how she reacts. If it's not her, we'll have a good laugh. I send her the file by text. I know she keeps her purse it the bottom drawer of her desk with her phone set to "Do not disturb," so I call her office phone.

"Mrs. Williams' office. This is Anna."

"Hi Anna, this is Bob. Is Cheryl there?"

"No, Bob, she took the afternoon off to get ready for her date with you tonight. I think she's even going to buy a new dress. Oh, dear, I shouldn't have said that. I think she meant to surprise you. I think what you are doing is so romantic! Coming over for lunch, taking walks, buying her flowers ... And you're so handsome!"

My heart sinks. I realize that Anna has never seen me. "I just wanted to make sure she hadn't forgotten."

"Oh, there's no chance of that! She's been so excited about it all week!"

I say goodbye and hang up. I call Cheryl's cell but as I expected it goes straight to voicemail. I leave an angry message, telling her I know about her date and she'd better be there when I get home. I quickly change my ticket to tomorrow afternoon and head back home. I should easily get there before seven. But traffic is terrible, as a lane is blocked by a stalled car, and the airport is on the other side of the city from our house. I arrive just before seven and see Cheryl's car is in the garage. I run into the house, but she's already gone.

I wonder if I can figure out where she is going. I use the find phone app and it tells me her phone is in our bedroom. Sure enough, her purse is there with her phone. I guess she must have bought a purse to go with her new dress.

Maybe Susan would know. She's Cheryl's best friend and they tell each other everything. I call her.

"Susan, this is Bob. Listen, I know about Cheryl's affair. Tell me if you know where he's taking her tonight."

"Bob, I swear I know nothing about any affair. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I heard her lover bragging about how he was going to finally bang this slut he had been chasing for a couple of months. I didn't realize he was talking about Cheryl. Later, I called her office and heard she had taken the afternoon off to go to the beauty parlor to get ready for her date with me. I'm supposed to be out of town tonight. I left her a voicemail, but she didn't check it, and then left her phone here."

"Bob, about two months ago she mentioned she had met a handsome guy who was flirting with her. I was furious with her, and yelled at her to not be a stupid bitch. I told her that, three years ago, I also met a handsome guy, ended up cheating on Jim, and we were divorced for two years. I told her that you were a great guy and not to risk losing you. I made her promise not to get involved with him. She never mentioned him again, so I thought she had listened to me. I guess she didn't."

"Apparently, he's working on her using a romance novel that she's been reading. Did she mention a favorite book to you?"

"I don't read that shit, but she did mention a book that she said really grabbed her. I really didn't pay too much attention."

"Thanks, Susan. I'll see if I can find it. It may give me some clues."

I go through her nightstand and find the book. It's obviously the right one -- it's quite worn, like she had read it many times, and has the picture Seymour described on the cover. A rose is pressed into it. It takes me about an hour to skim through it enough to get the story.

In France during the 18^th century, the beautiful Genevieve was in an arranged marriage to the Baron, a cold man ten years her senior. She meets a handsome soldier named Jacques. There's a couple of hundred pages of flirting and building romance while Genevieve tries to remain faithful, but the day before Jacques is to go off to war, they spend a passionate night of lovemaking in an inn in the next town. Jacques goes to fight, and a month later, she hears that he's been killed. She realizes that she's pregnant, and when a baby boy is born, she can tell that Jacques is the father. The clueless baron raises him as his son, and Genevieve can feel that she can endure her loveless marriage because she has a piece of Jacques in her life.

I feel a sudden chill run through me. I remember picking up her three-month supply of birth control pills a little over two months ago. I look in her nightstand and find the last package is unopened. I realize that she had had her period two weeks ago, and after that she told me that she had a yeast infection and we couldn't have sex for two weeks. She should be at the peak of her fertility tonight, when she has sex with "Reynaldo".

My God! She is not only going to cheat on me, but is trying to get pregnant by him, just like in the book! My heart sinks. Deep down, I was trying to imagine if I could somehow forgive her for this one time. Maybe there was something I should have done better, or some sign I had missed. But I know I never deserved this! This was a betrayal beyond anything I could endure.

I look at the clock -- 9:00PM. Maybe I could figure out which hotel they were going to, but it's probably too late to stop them anyway. Hell, it was too late for us the moment she decided to have a child by that asshole.

I spend the next hour moving all my clothes into the guest room. It has an attached bath, so I won't ever have to come in here again. But tonight, I'll sleep in our bed. "Reynaldo" had said that he had to "fly back to Italy" the next day, so I guess she'll be coming back in the morning. I want to make sure I see her when she comes in.

I lie awake for a long time, and finally fall into a fitful sleep.

I wake to the sound of a frightened cry as she walks into the bedroom. "Bob, what are you doing here?" she gasps. She nervously walks toward me to give me a kiss.

"Stop," I snarl. "I can smell his cologne on your body, so I guess you didn't even wash up. I suppose that means your pussy is still filled with his come. I can see a love bite on your neck. Reynaldo must have wanted to mark you so I would know you cheated on me. Nice guy, huh?"

"Honey, it's not what you think!"

"Well, I'm sure glad to hear that. Because what I think is pretty damned bad. I'll tell you what I think, and you can tell me where I'm wrong. I think that you've been having lunch dates with a man who calls himself Reynaldo. You've been using him to live out your favorite romance novel." I toss the book at her. "I read it last night. God, I thought I was treating you like a queen, and you cast me as a cold-hearted bastard. I saw that Genevieve became pregnant. That got me thinking and I found this." I throw the unopened box of pills toward her. "I think you haven't been taking your birth control pills. One thing I didn't find was any medicine for a yeast infection. So, I think that was a ploy to make sure I didn't get you pregnant before your lover got his chance. Nice dress, by the way. You bought it and had your hair done so you would look especially sexy for your date, something you haven't done for me in a long time. Then you went to a hotel room. But you didn't just have sex, did you? You made passionate love to him, again, something you haven't done with me for a while. And now you're standing there with his come still in you to give his little wrigglers some extra time to do their job. That's what I think. Now, tell me where I'm wrong."

"But, honey, it was just a meaningless fantasy -- a little escapism. I do love you."

"No, dear, a fantasy is always fictional. I don't care if you masturbate while imagining yourself as Genevieve in the arms of the handsome Jacques. Hell, you can even think of him while we're having sex, as long as you don't call out his name. But you let a real man stick a real cock into your cunt. And nine months from now, you may be in a real hospital giving birth to a real child. Explain how this is a fantasy."

"Honey, I fell into this stupid book and I just wasn't thinking. I'll never do anything like this again. Can you please forgive me?"

"You want forgiveness? Okay, I forgive you - I won't punish you. I won't throw you out into the street, send emails to all our friends and relatives telling them what a slut you are or make you wear a scarlet letter. Unlike some people, I don't hurt the ones I love. But this isn't about sin and forgiveness. It's about actions and consequences. A woman wants the father of her child to be the man she loves. You can say whatever you want, but your actions say that's not me. The consequence of that is we can no longer be married. What happens next is up to you, but I will not be any part of it.

"It seems to me you have two choices. Option A: you can continue to live out your fantasy. You had a marvelous, romantic night with your true love. When you have your son, he has his father's brown eyes and brown hair. Since your cold, heartless husband knows the baby can't be his, he divorces you. You have to give up on a lot of the pleasures you have now, but it's worth it to be rid of that bastard. You devote your life to raising your love child, looking at him fondly as he grows up, because he reminds you of the love of your life, the romantic diplomat who gave your life meaning. The two of you will live alone, as you could never be with another man after Reynaldo.