Her Temptations

Many thanks to snowbear for editing this story.

*

It was a cruel awakening. I found myself naked in a shabby bed beside a worn out woman, probably twice my age. She too was naked but still sleeping and snoring. My head rang like a blacksmith shop and I was thirsty. The worst thing was that I hadn't the slightest idea who the woman was nor even where I was or how I had got there.

I found my clothes spread on the floor together with some women's clothing. After collecting my clothes, I found a shabby kitchen with the sink filled with piles of dirty plates and dirty glasses. Two empty bottles of cheap white wine and two dirty glasses on the kitchen table completed the view of somebody's poor home.

My wallet was in my pants. The Visa card was still where it used to be and even some money.

After drinking some tap water I left the apartment as quietly as possible. There was a name, Veronica Olson, on the mailbox outside of the apartment door.

Obviously I had been drunk as hell, met this Veronica somewhere, went to her apartment, drank some more wine and thereafter probably fucked her. Of course, I could wake her up and ask her, but I preferred to sneak away.

As soon as I was out from the house, I puked behind some bushes and felt slightly better, at least for a while. The worst thing for the time being was the terrible remorse for the lost memory and not having any clue about where I was. The area was a typical low-income housing area with many of the apartments rented by the social welfare system for housing local alcoholics and refugees from exotic countries. Those kind of new neighbors made average people flee such areas as fast as they could find something better.

However, not even the street name gave me any information. Then I saw an elderly couple and tried to ask them, but their only reply was a loud comment, "Hooligans everywhere nowadays."

Not much for information. The next human being I met was an old woman. At least the main question about where I was got solved; and she even told me how to get to the town center and the bus station.

I was in a town about 45 km from my own Scandinavian hometown. But I guessed that the other questions about how I got there and where I met Veronica might never be answered.

Back home I checked my Visa account, which didn't say much other than that it had been an expensive evening, but nothing paid with the card, only money from ATMs both in my hometown and in Veronica's hometown.

My friends and I had begun the evening together at a Pub but thereafter they had no ideas about my doings that evening. There was one question, which haunted me for some time; what had I done with my money? Did I really pay that shabby Veronica for fucking her?

I'm not stupid and now it was obvious that loosing the memory was a serious sign that it was high time for some new lifestyle choices. The easy way was to continue with hard drinking and partying, loose the job, end up on the infamous "A-team" living on the social welfare system in a shabby area just like where I woke up in Veronica's apartment, make a little extra money off some petty crime, and forget all thoughts about average family life with wife and kids.

The necessary but very difficult way to go on with my life was to skip the hard drinking, skip the old drinking friends, and get other interests. I understood that it was impossible to do that in my hometown where my bad reputation and all my jolly good drinking friends would make such plans impossible.

My name is Matteus Wallin, Matteus after one of the 12 disciples. (Mathew in the English version) I was born in a small Scandinavian village, 16 kilometers from the town, which is the center of the community that I used to call my hometown. Both my parents were members of the local free religious parish that dominated the life in our village. Non-members called it a sect.

My home in that village wasn't a happy home and my father left my mother and the village after he found out that the rumors about my mother and a preacher were true. After a lot of praying, the scandal was forgiven and the preacher married my mother. He never liked me and used to threaten me with terrible times in hell.

However, I have never believed that Saint Peter, who is running the pearly gate, would take any orders or even any advice from a cheating preacher in a small Scandinavian village, thus I didn't give a shit about the preacher's threatening. Thanks to the law in this country he never dared to hit me; because hitting a child is regarded as a serious crime.

Therefore it was a great relief for all of us when I left the school at the age of 16, got a job as apprentice at plumber firm, and hired a room and boarding of an old aunt in the town center. That was much better than living in the preacher's house. The aunt was okay with me and I used to help her with the garden and the snow.

The only problem during that time was that the preacher didn't allow my mother or my old friends at the parish to have any connection with me; because he somehow had convinced them that I was a tool of the devil. My aunt didn't accept such rubbish and she now and then managed to fix some meetings and phone calls between my mother and me.

My father had married a divorced religious woman with a daughter my age. The only connection I ever had with my father was the three Christmas holidays I spent with his new family. The last year I was there, neither my step mom nor my stepsister made any secret of the fact that they would be happy if I spent the next Christmas elsewhere. I obeyed their wish and, as neither my father, who was completely dominated by his new wife nor I had any interest of any further connections, we didn't speak again. After that we only sent cards for birthdays and Christmas.

The reason why my father's family disliked me was that instead of going with them to their church both morning and evening I celebrated the Christmas Day evening at a bar in town, met a girl at the bar, and spent the night with her. Average people can't accept that because Christmas is the main "Homecoming holiday" in this country. Christmas Eve is for the family and nowadays Christmas and Boxing Days are for seeing old friends coming home from all over the country and the world.

I was working as a plumber and I did it well. In spite of my hard drinking I had earned a license for welding stainless pipes for high-pressure use, which put me in high demand in many booming areas of the country and throughout Scandinavia and the European Union.

I had a serious talk with my boss, who understood my problem. He promised to help me and only a few days later he had used his connections and fixed me a new job in a small town about 350 km from my home town.

The next weekend I went there and met my new boss. I had a positive first impression of him, the job and the town. After a short negotiation about my salary and some other conditions, we shook hands and I was welcomed to my new life.

My new boss used his connections to fix me a small apartment. He even helped me to fix a loan at the local saving bank so I could buy some furniture and other necessary things for my new home. I even used some of the money to change my old rusty VW Golf to one several years newer and still in good shape. That completed the start of my new life. It wasn't easy to be a stranger in a small town, so I took it very easy at the beginning and spent a lot of time at a gym.

I was a keen dancer and it was a strange feeling going sober to a dance. But without the heavy "backpack loaded with bad reputation" I once again could occasionally get a nice girl with me to my apartment or was invited to hers - but so far only for one night flings.

After a few months in my new hometown I even met my dream girl, Madeleine Olson; and to my great happiness even got a few dates with her. One of the dates ended up in the most unforgettable night in my whole life.

Madeleine was far from the first girl to suck me off, but she was the very best at that. I got the impression that, when she sucked me, she got my cock bigger, harder, more sensitive, and for a longer time than any girl before her. Even her pussy was better than any other pussy I had been able to penetrate before hers. While fucking her I got the feeling that her pussy squeezed my cock just like it had been sucked.

She was my dream girl even in many other ways; but unfortunately I wasn't Madeleine's dream boy, though she said that she liked me very much. She aimed higher than a plumber and, when she met a guy who was the only son to the owner of a big furniture factory, I was history for her.

Then I met Jessica Palmér at one of my fellow workers big 40th birthday party. I got the impression that she was close to me the whole evening and, as she was very good on the dance floor, I danced several times with her. I had no reason to say 'no thanks' when she invited me to her place for an early breakfast as we left the still ongoing party slightly after 4 in the morning.

Her apartment was in good order and after some kissing we fell in sleep on her sofa. She woke me up about 10 o'clock saying that now the breakfast was ready. I remembered the terrible awakening at Veronica's place and must say that this awakening was totally different. Jessica was a beautiful girl - almost as beautiful as my lost dream girl, Madeleine.

She was rather easygoing and we had a pleasant talk during the breakfast. She accepted my invitation for lunch. Of course, I asked my self why such a lovely girl was still single but I didn't ask her and she didn't ask me why I was single either.

The lunch at a small restaurant went fine; and after that we took a long walk in the large park that the town was very proud of. Before we parted, Jessica said that she couldn't see me that evening because she had to practice with the church choir; but she suggested that we go to a movie Tuesday evening. I accepted and was a bit surprised that a nice girl like her was eager to date me, which I hadn't been used to in my hometown. But as I didn't have anybody else to date for the time being, and Jessica was rather cute, I thought why not?

On Monday morning I asked my fellow worker, who had invited Jessica to his party, about her. He told me that she was a friend of his wife and as far as he knew she was okay. Jessica had recently broken up a rather long lasting relationship with a boyfriend who had hit her twice.

Then he asked, "What shall I tell her if she asks about you?"

"The truth will be fine. I am what I am. Just tell your honest opinion about me."

He promised to do that. The next morning he told me that Jessica had rang him and asked about me. He even told me that it was his wife who had got a good impression of me when they had invited me for dinner some weeks ago and suggested Jessica to give me a serious try before some other girl would catch me.

Jessica and I met that evening and she accepted to have tea at my place after the film, but only if I agreed to her condition - "No sex." I agreed.

I kept my promise and made no attempts to get her to bed. Instead we had a long serious chat about ourselves. She asked me some questions about my past and I told her the truth. Then she surprised me by asking, "Have you been tested for venereal diseases recently?"

"No."

"I think it would be an advantage if you ever want a serious relation with a decent girl. You ought to get tested."

I gave her my brightest smile and replied, "Of course I can do that, no problem at all. But can't we go there together? I don't know any other decent girl."

Both of us noted that it sounded silly and she asked with a smile, "Do you only know sluts?"

"No, no, in no way. But if one doesn't dare to ask one will never know the answer."

"I've only had sex with one man during the last four years. But if we two are to get involved in a serious relationship and you ask me to test myself, then, of course, I'll go."

"You slept with one man, but are you really one hundred percent sure that he never cheated you, especially when your relation was in trouble?"

"Not a hundred but at least ninety-five percent. There's no reason for arguing, Let's go together."

One very positive thing was for sure; Jessica was obviously looking forward to having sex with me rather soon, but suggesting a V.D. test felt like a rather strange almost businesslike demand at our second date. The main question for me was the cost of that sex with Jessica? She was cute, no doubt about that, but did I really wanted to get involved in a serious relation with a girl I hardly knew just for some sex. Or would it be okay to give in to her temptation and get that, in some way, already promised sex with her?

We talked until two in the morning and Jessica slept in my bed, dressed only in bra and panties. She had a nice body and I couldn't help it but got hard. She saw it and began to giggle, laid her hand on the hard bulge, and said, "I want you too. Let's get tested and then give it an honest try."

Her eagerness to get me into a relationship was a really unusual situation for me and I couldn't help that to be so wanted scared me a little. However, she was beautiful, clever, easy going and had a good job a bank. Not a bad choice and a quantum leap forward for a guy who never forgot his terrible awakening in Veronica's shabby bed.

Our tests showed that both of us were okay and we spent our first Saturday night after getting that information at a famous five star hotel at the coast. First a great meal at the restaurant, then dancing a few tunes at the bar, and thereafter, Champagne and strawberries at the room while slowly necking and undressing.

I must confess that our first real sex was much better than expected and I was honest with Jessica when I told her many times that I was in love with her. She was so happy after her second intense orgasm that she began to cry.

Jessica suggested that I move into her apartment so we could save my rent for our wedding. I accepted.

Then only a month later we had our first quarrel. Jessica's ex, who now had moved out of town, had began email her again and she replied with innocent replies. None of us had any passwords to our laptops at home and she allowed me to read everything she and her ex sent to each other. I didn't care about it until he asked her to come and visit him for a weekend and to my great surprise agreed to go.

She told me about her trip and asked, "Is it okay for you?"

"No."

She raised her voice and asked, "Do you intend to stop me?"

"I can't stop you, only thank you for the short but pleasant time we have been together."

Now she shouted, "What the hell do you mean by that? What do you want me to do?"

"Just say good bye to me and go back to your ex."

"You can't be serious."

"You'll see."

Now she understood the consequences and began to sob, "No, no, no, I won't go. I love you. Please don't leave me. Please stay with me."

Then she went straight to her laptop and emailed her ex. She told him that she regretted her hasty promise to see him during the weekend and that it would be better for both of them if they accepted that their relationship was history once for all. She ended her email by wishing him good luck for the future.

Her ex didn't reply to that mail.

I stayed living together with Jessica and we had good times together. I didn't care if she kept any connection with the ex from her job but she never suggested any weekend trip to him again. Sometimes I suspected that she only had tested me to see if I was a wimp or not and obviously she had found me okay.

We had agreed that Jessica could keep her usual connections with her friends. They were six girls in what they used to call "sewing bee" though I had never seen any of them sewing anything. The used to meet every second week for gossip and sometimes they even went out to bars and hotels for partying. Once a year, at a crawfish party in August, we spouses were invited to their party.

After two good years together we had begun to talk about the wedding and buying a house when we had another unexpected problem. This time it was Madeleine, my dream-girl a couple of years ago, who caused the problem. She sent me a handwritten letter, telling me that she had dumped her boyfriend and she had never forgotten me. Now Madeleine asked me if I still remembered her as my dream girl and if I had any interest in seeing her again.

Of course it was a temptation, a great temptation, indeed. But Jessica and I had been together for two years and it was Madeleine who had dumped me for a richer guy. Though Jessica wasn't as much a dream girl as Madeleine, I was in love with her and we were planning our marriage and our house.

I had promised to be honest with Jessica, which is why I told her about Madeleine and me and showed her Madeleine's letter. Jessica was heartbroken and asked me several times a day, "Do you still love her? What will you do?"

"Nothing other than tell Madeleine a polite 'No thanks because I love my girlfriend'."

Then I told Jessica many times, "I love you Jessica and look forward to marrying you."

We found a suitable house for a fair price and the signed contract made Jessica happy again.

Getting any kind of economic support from my parents was out of question and Jessica's parents were not in position to pay for a big wedding. They were a funny couple, indeed. After Jessica and her sister Johanna had left the nest, they had moved into a two-room apartment where they lived as "dog and cat". Jessica's mother was always nagging at her poor husband.

Jessica and I needed all our money for the house, so we could afford only a small but very romantic outdoor wedding on a rock at the coast late in June. We did it at sunset with only our best friends as witnesses.

I had no objections when Jessica suggested starting a family and our daughter, Emma, was born only eleven months after the wedding. Fourteen months later we had our second daughter, Elin. We were a happy family, though we were a little short of money because the house caused us some unexpected expenses.

When Elin was two years old, we got daycare for the children and Jessica went back to her work at a bank. Unfortunately, it only lasted for six months due the new times. However only two months later she got a slightly lower paid job at another bank.

Then shit happened in our relation again when the female leader of the church choir took a time-out for three months and they got a handsome young man from the next town as her stand in. It's no secret that sometimes there happens to be a discrete affair between members in a choir. But the stand in leader, Gabriel Nilsson, wasn't discrete. He was a very handsome man in his late twenties and soon he was the target of much gossip about earlier seduction affairs in his hometown.

Even I heard the gossip but I didn't care much about it because I was convinced that even if he fucked fifty percent of the women in the choir, Jessica wouldn't be one of them. I even joked with Jessica and asked her if Gabriel did as Frank Sinatra is said to have done in Las Vegas when he put up a big picture of the dancers in his show on the wall and marked the girls with points as soon as he fucked them. Jessica didn't like that joke, not at all and got angry as a bee.

The old saying says "No smoke without a fire" and it was right even in this matter. I was working on installing the municipal central heating system in a house when the wife came down to the basement for a chat. She asked me, "Are you Jessica Wallin's husband?"

"Yes, do you know her?"

"I know her from the church choir, but the question is how well do you know her?"

"Oh my God Lord, are the rumors about that Gabriel true? My wife Jessica?"

"Not yet, but she is probably the next in the line if nobody will stop them."