Mail-Order Bride
Chapter 4: Getting it done

Copyright© 2009 by BoonDock

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 4: Getting it done - Being lonely is a bitch. Rupert has been divorced for over a year and can't seem to manage the dating scene. His daughter pushes him into investigating a Russian Mail-Order Bride site and to his surprise, he is soon busy arranging for the visit of one of the woman he meets online. The story soon descends into a violent confrontation with the Russian Mafia.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Slow   Violence   Prostitution   Military  

After I posted the message to Daise, I started feeling a little uneasy. I hunted around on the site for a while, and found that they had an option to do a scam-check ... I thought it was pretty clever. The way it worked was that they sent someone to deliver a single red rose to the address of the person they were checking, and then provided photo of the delivery. That meant that I would get to see that Daise was who she said she was, she lived at the address that she had used to register and she would probably be flattered because I was 'thoughtful' enough to send her a rose.

Feeling much better about it, I left the computer and settled in to watch the Springbucks beat the All Blacks at rugby. Ok, so it was a copy saved on my PVR and not live, but then it was a game that deserved being watched three or four hundred times.

When the time rolled around that I had agreed to chat to Daise, I was sitting at my computer browsing idly. Eventually the chat notification popped up to tell me that Daise was online.

I couldn't believe how apprehensive I was as I replied to her "Hello, are you there?"

"Hi Daise," I typed, "How was your day?"

"Terrible. I couldn't stop thinking about you and when I checked my messages at lunch time, I got the one you sent me. I haven't been able to think of anything else."

"And? What do you think?"

"It is a little difficult to type like this. I wish I could speak to you rather."

"Ok. Do you have a phone there where I can call you?"

"I have a friend here at the business centre who has a cell phone. Would that be OK?"

"Sure. Give me the number."

Once I had the number, I called the phone directly from my Cell. It only rang twice before she answered.

"Hello?" I loved her voice. Just that one tentative hello in that delightful accent was enough for me to know that.

"Hi Daise?"

"Yes, this is Daise. Is that Rupert?"

"Yes. It's nice to hear your voice. Please thank your friend for me for allowing you to use her phone."

"OK." I heard some rapid-fire Russian and then she came back on the line. "She tells me to tell you it is no problem."

"OK. So ... what did you think about what I asked you?"

"The people at the Dating Agency tell me that I should rather ask you to visit me here."

"Yes, I thought that they might. I made some calls though and it seems that it would be easier for you to get a visa to come here than for me to go there. I can arrange it within two weeks from when you decide to come. It would take me months to get a visa to go there."

"I would like to see you Rupert. When would you want me to come?"

I could hear that there was a bit of a hesitation in her voice. I tried to think about what the possible cause could be and decided that it was possibly to do with her job, although I was a little confused about that as she had listed herself as a student on her profile.

"Don't worry about it for the moment Daise," I said, "let's talk about something else. I see you a student. What are you studying."

"I am in a secretarial college. I wasn't able to go to University, so I am working at a restaurant to pay for it so I have to worry about how I am going to manage to take leave."

I could see now what the problem was. It seemed that money was a real problem, confirming what I had suspected had made her desperate enough to join the Dating agency in the first place. What I really liked though was that she made absolutely no mention of money. It seemed that she was too proud to do so, which went a long way towards easing my fears of a scam and gold-digging.

"Ok. How long do you have left to study there?"

"Another three months. It is a two year course and I am almost finished."

"All right, how about this. If you want to come out here to see me..."

"Oh, yes I do," she interrupted.

 
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