Confessions of a Scoundrel

Confessions of a Scoundrel
by David Cain

I fell for Valerie the moment I saw her.

I had only been at Rick’s party for about five minutes when Steph waved at me from across the room. Rick liked his parties busy, and so I had to struggle through the crowd to reach my friends. Just as Steph reached out to offer me a hug, Brian turned around. I bumped hard into him, pushing him against a pretty girl I’d never seen before. Wine sloshed over the girl’s hand. A faint purple stain spread over the white denim of her skirt.

“Aah!” the girl squealed in a mixture of anger and surprise. Brian cursed at me. Horrified, I babbled embarrassed apologies to anyone who would listen.

After muttering a few words under her breath, the girl looked up at me, shooting me a ferocious glare. Liz says I looked like a frightened rabbit. The wine soaked maiden’s frown slowly changed into a smirk. Finally, a seductive gleam sparkled in her sky blue eyes and she laughed. “It’s all right,” she said with a spirited shrug. “It’s been one of those days.”

“Yes,” I said, my relief exploding in the word. “It sure has.”

“Valerie,” she said with a sigh. My heart started to pound as I reached out to take her hand in mine. I liked her at once.

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated in all sincerity. I raised her wine soaked fingers to my lips. “Mmm, delicious,” I said, smiling. I think I licked the back of her hand just a little. “I’ll have what she’s wearing.” Val laughed.

“Liz warned me about you.”

“Really?” I asked, turning an inquisitive eye toward Liz.

“Dangerously charming,” said Val.

“Why, Liz,” I said, blushing.

“Wasn’t me,” said Liz.

“Or was it clumsy?” asked Val gleefully. “I think she meant ‘dangerously clumsy’.”

“Well, that’s fair enough,” I answered. “I don’t know about dangerous, but I can’t deny clumsy.”

Stephanie was overcome with giggles as she introduced Valerie to me. I heard the explanation of how they first met, but paid no attention to the outline of facts, for I was completely lost in Val’s smiling eyes. If anyone was dangerously charming, it was her.

Like all of Rick’s parties, the evening was charged with laughter and excited stories of trouble we’d been in or were hoping to find, and I only managed to exchange a few private words with Valerie. In those moments, I did manage to get her phone number and a promise to go out with me on the next Saturday night. I promised not to spill anything on her. I think she went home early that night. I didn’t and eventually fell asleep, drunk out of my senses, drowning in maudlin thoughts, haunted by a pretty girl’s smile.

I picked Valerie up at her apartment the next Saturday night. When I saw her at Rick’s party, she was attractive in a gentle way. I think she had come to the party straight from work. When she opened the door, my eyes opened wide at the surprise. “Holy smokes,” I might have said.

“Charming as ever,” she replied with a smile.

I offered her dinner at a little Italian place I know. Valerie agreed but there was a hint of disappointment flickering over her lips. I asked if there was anything she would rather do instead.

“Well, we could just grab a bite and go dancing.”

“Sure,” I said. “Whatever turns you on, pretty lady.”

Valerie took my hand and pulled me down the hall. I shook my head with a smile and tried my best to keep up.

When she suggested grabbing a bite, she wasn’t kidding. Val took me to a little Greek place downtown and we ate our dinner standing up.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, yogurt sauce on her lips.

“Hell, no,” I said abruptly, a bit overzealous in my appreciation of the way things were going. She laughed and took a sip of soda. I loved the way she smiled so much it hurt. Val took my hand and pulled me down the crowded sidewalk until we reached The Vault, a local hot spot. The old bank building shuddered as a bass beat pounded within.

“You ever come here?” she shouted.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I love it,” she said, pulling me onto the throbbing dance floor.

A lady friend of mine once told me that dancing is an audition for sex. “If you can’t dance, you probably can’t fuck worth a damn, “I was told. I don’t know if that’s really true, but I followed Janet’s advice and danced with everything I had. And if Valerie was trying to audition for a place in my bed, I was ready to give her the lead role. She danced like a minx in heat. Before the first bridge, my prick throbbed painfully, wanting her.

One advantage I discovered on the dance floor was that I could stare at my date with impunity. I remember enjoying those first few songs terribly, finally drinking deep draughts of her looks, indulging my senses in her wonderfully feminine beauty. The girls I date are usually pretty good looking, with a little give and take on the fringes, but I had never been out with a woman who looked this good. She wore this short black skirt that just kept whipping back and forth, flashing me with creamy shots of her lean legs. She had on this baby-blue blouse which clung to a full bosom. Her tits bounced and jiggled at every turn. Her round backside – oh, I loved that sight – thrust and waved. She soon had me dazed with lust.

We went back to her place and in a few minutes the blouse was off, followed by the skirt and some lacy underthings. Valerie kissed me hungrily that night. I took her over and under, again and again.

I called her the next day. She sounded surprised. I wanted to see her again, as soon as possible, but I kept my cool. Val agreed to go out the next weekend.

I really wanted to take her to my Italian restaurant, dazzle her some of my romancing style. Val wanted to go see a foreign film instead, so we skipped dinner and ate popcorn. I hoped, at least, it would be something artistic, heartfelt and touching. “Illame” or something like that was about two teenage girls who kept trying to seduce a young priest and ended up caressing each other more often than not. Maybe it was art, and maybe it was moving, but Val had her hand on my lap the whole time and so reading the subtitles proved beyond my skills. Instead I spent most of the film thinking about baseball, trying not to embarrass myself with an early exit, so to speak. When we left the theater, stepping into an alley, Valerie was all over me. We had sex six times before we made it to my place. When I woke up the next morning, Val was gone.

The next Saturday, I persuaded Val to come over to my place for dinner. I had the whole evening planned, from the first drink to the slow dance which I hoped would lead us into a long night of love making. The doorbell rang.

“Valerie,” I said with a smile. “Please come in.”

“Hey,” she said coyly. “Can I take a shower before dinner?”

“Sure,” I said. “Down the hall.”

“Thanks,” she said and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll just be a minute.”

I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down. Five minutes later, she came back. Her blonde hair was tied back, a long mane of deep golden brown. She wore one of my work shirts, with only a few button fastened. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. The white cotton clung to her damp skin. My prick responded at the sight. I forgot my plans and poured her a glass of wine.

As I served her dinner, she kept staring at me, teasing me with her eyes. She asked me if I had cut the olives myself, if I had baked the biscuits. I assured her I had. She put her napkin on her plate, covering the hardly touched meal, and walked around the table to sit on my lap. I kissed her. We forgot the rest of our dinner, fucking on the floor until the candles had burned out.

I called her the next day. Val suggested we get together next Saturday. I told her I wanted to see her now, that I felt we really needed to talk. She was reluctant, but I persuaded her to let me come over.

“I like you, Valerie. But I feel like I haven’t been able to, well, get to know you. We just keep . . .”

Valerie pulled off her blouse. “Don’t you like to fuck?” she asked.

“Val, dear, I can’t say I’ve ever enjoyed being with anyone more,” I confessed. “You are simply incredible. But isn’t there supposed to be more than just sex?”

Val’s face fell and she covered her breasts with her crumpled shirt.

“Look, I just want to talk to you,” I said.

“About what?”

“Anything,” I answered. “Can’t we waste a little time talking before we start . . . It’s like eating dessert all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just have a sweet tooth.”

It started slow, our talking, but I kept pushing and teasing and telling her things about myself until some barrier finally collapsed and Valerie opened up to me. We talked all afternoon and well into the evening. It was about ten o’clock when Val told me about her father. She tried not to cry.

“I hadn’t heard a word about him in sixteen years, and then one day he just shows up. I mean, I’d been dreaming about that day all my life and then it just happens. He showed up and he loved me. And he was there the next day and the day after that, too. We spent weeks together. I told him everything I had ever done, everything I’d felt. And he understood, because he was just like me.” Valerie cried at this point, hard. I held onto her, rocking her back and forth, telling her it was all right.

“One day, I woke up and he was gone. He didn’t tell me he was going. He didn’t leave a note, didn’t say goodbye, didn’t say nothing and he was just gone and I’ve never heard a word from him since.”

I still held her close and patted her on the back gently.

“I’ve been afraid of getting close to anyone since.”

I kissed Val and then kissed her again. She melted in my arms and I kissed her cheeks, her jaw, her brow and her ears. She lay limp, surrendering herself to me and I caressed her shoulders, ran my hands down her back.

“I love you,” she said in a whisper. I kissed her big nipple, felt it tighten in my lips. “God,” she said, “I love you.” I squeezed her bottom and tugged at her shorts. Val kissed my chest as I tickled the back of her thighs. She rubbed her breasts against me and I moved around to kiss the cleft of her mons. Val moaned sweetly and I licked her pleasure wet.

Her pretty smile disappeared into the darkness as I loved the woman with all the romance I had inside me, making her feel, making her laugh, making her come. I loved her passionately. We slept in each other’s arms, in her bed, given over to bliss.

Morning came and sunlight streamed in the window and I woke up feeling sad. I don’t know why. Val still looked beautiful and I really liked her but I was seriously depressed. I pulled myself out of her grasp to find the bathroom. As the pressure streamed away, a nausea hit me and all at once I wanted to go, to leave, to forget everything she’d told me. I crept into the front room and as silently as I could, I dressed. I paused when I heard her stir and then ran out the door when I felt like the coast was clear.

I haven’t called her since. I couldn’t bear to hear her voice again. I don’t know why. But all the magic is gone.

About David Cain

David Cain, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Witch, Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.