The Story of Mr. Wrong

I haven’t thought about him in a very long time. At first I wondered what made me think of him again. I think it’s because his twin brother, Robert is back in the picture. I believe that they are fraternal twins because they don’t look all that much alike. But, then again, you never know these days…

Mr. Wrong is every mother’s worse nightmare about whom their daughter could possibly end up with. Well, maybe not every mother’s nightmare, but if my mother knew that I had slept with him she would probably kill herself. I don’t suppose she would see that there could possibly be worse choices out there for me.

My mother would take one look at his many tattoos and his outstanding criminal record. Then it would be off to the convent for me, or confession at the very least. The point that I am making here is that she can never find out about my past with Mr. Wrong. He was the worst kind of man for me, so of course that meant that I had to be around him. There was something forbidden about him if not completely intoxicating.

I met him for the first time when I was about sixteen years old. I didn’t remember much about him. At the beginning of last year he was all any of my friends could seem to talk about. At first I was bored. But, then when they went on to tell me all about his past and reputation with the opposite sex I was intrigued to say the least. How could I possibly not be?

At first I didn’t even know who they were talking about. But, I did know that I had to meet him and see his actions first hand. I deduced that either I would be sorely disappointed or vaguely impressed. It all depended how he went about his different affairs with women.

I’ll never forget how when I saw him for the first time last summer since I was sixteen. I knew immediately who he was. My first thought was that he looked pretty good for someone who couldn’t seem to keep themselves out of prison. He dressed with a sense of class that slightly shocked me. He was a thug, for God’s sake. I’ll always remember that arrogant smirk on his face as he approached me. He liked what he saw. But, then again, most men in their right mind do. Hell, I’ve even been known to attract a couple of ones who weren’t.

I pretended as if I had absolutely no idea who he could possibly be. He seemed almost appalled that I couldn’t recall the fact that we had in fact met a couple years ago. Men of his nature always are. He went on to introduce himself to me all over again. I laughed and informed Mr. Wrong that I knew all about him and his ways already.

He demanded to know exactly what I had heard. I tossed my head to the side and informed him that a good girl never tells her source. I made sure to add an innocent smile to the equation. He now wanted to know everything I had heard. I asked him at that point if he hadn’t just heard me a few moments ago. I’ll never forget that first conversation after not seeing him for about three years.

“Perhaps when I meet that girl I will listen to what she has to say. Who really knows? But, I will tell you one thing. You will never be a good girl. Who are you trying to fool?”

“The world, perhaps…”

“I’m not buying it…”

“Congratulations would be in order if I was interested…”

“I already think you are…”

“I’ll have you know that I’m not…”

“But, you will be…”
I suppose that we would have continued our slight banter if he hadn’t chosen that moment to just walk away from me. I was quite upset and deeply offended. We were in the middle of a conversation and he just walked away. Did he have no idea just who he was talking to?

Our paths crossed once more later that summer. Our mutual friend’s family was having a Fourth of July barbeque. As I arrived at the party I noticed him playing in the street with my friend’s siblings and their friends. My friend commented that it was like watching a father playing with his children. I ruefully thought about the fact that he had slept with enough women that it could possibly be so. How funny! But, then again, there are consequences for all actions, yes?

He immediately walked towards me and tried to talk with me. I gave him a small smirk and asked my friend if one of her brothers were around. I was in need of some sort of entertainment, a diversion of sorts. He followed me to the side of the house.

“Stalking is illegal in every state from what I’ve heard…”

“You wouldn’t be avoiding me now would you?”

“Please don’t make me laugh,” I smiled as I turned around.

We were a couple inches apart. I stood there wondering what he would do, refusing to move because a part of me wanted to know if he was as good as everyone said that he was.

He leaned in and kissed me and I was pleased that for once that all of the rumors were not based on false evidence. The rest is pretty much history. Well, except for the fact that he did drugs again, stole a car, went to jail, got out of jail, stayed the night at my house when my mother was out of town, and we had amazing sex. But, other than that it’s all history, done with. He’s now in rehab. Good for him.

I can honestly say that he gave me the best sex I’ve ever had. Oh, yes. That’s why I probably also thought of him again. A girl who is not easily impressed in the bedroom doesn’t forget the best sex of her life. There’s just not a chance…