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The Stranger Ch. 01

By: peacekeeper25



I was sitting in the corner of the café writing in my notebook when he walked in. He stood at the door, looked around. Our eyes met then we both quickly looked away. He then went to the counter where it was self-serve coffee, ordered a croissant and sat down at a small table next to the wall on the other side of the room. Again, our eyes met briefly. I went back to my writing and he opened the book he was reading. 

I had never seen him before and it is rare when anyone other than someone from the town comes in the café. He was probably in his fifties or early sixties. He had longish grey hair, a shaggy beard, jeans and a dark blue turtleneck sweater, but there was something intense about the way he looked around the room—something in his eyes. He definitely looked interesting. I was curious. Who was this man?

I was writing intently in my notebook, occasionally looking up and seeing him reading. A few times, he looked up and our eyes met. The café was empty except for the two of us and Jeff, the owner who was busy behind the counter. I was working on a story, but my mind kept drifting to the stranger, wondering what was it about him that fascinated me? Maybe I was just lonely, or horny, or just curious, I don't know but I wanted to meet him. I am somewhat shy and it is not my nature to just go up to a man and start a conversation. 

After awhile, I put my pen down and got up to get a little more coffee and noticed he looked up at me. Again, our eyes met and he smiled. I was wearing tight jeans and a t-shirt and am in very good shape because of the physical work I do as a gardener for some of the rich people around here. I had taken off my baseball cap that I wear when I am in the sun and my blond hair was in a long pony tail that came down passed my shoulders. I was tan and knew I looked good. 

"What are you writing?" he asked from his table. I turned surprised he was talking to me. I didn't want to tell him what I was writing—not that I am ashamed to be writing erotica but I didn't think it would make a good impression. 

"Just stuff," I answered. 

"Why don't you bring your coffee over here?" he asked. I'm not from around here and am curious about this town."

"Sure," I answered and sat down with my mug. "What are you reading?" I asked.

"The Birth of Tragedy," by Nietzsche, he answered, keeping the book opened. 

"Listen to this he said and read, "Truth is whatever is life-affirming; false is whatever denies or impedes growth."

"Interesting," I said. "So you like to read philosophy."

"Yes and history," he answered. "But I like this idea that what ever is life-affirming is true and I would add, good." He paused. "You were writing so intently and passionately, I was curious about what you were writing."

"Yes, I always write intently and passionately," I answered, smiling and looking into his eyes. 

"Is it a journal?" he asked. "I'm a writer too, so I was curious."

"No, it's not a journal. Are you always so nosey?" I asked, wanting to rev the conversation up a notch. 

"No, not always," he said. He closed his book, took a sip of his coffee, looking at me over the edge of his cup. 

"So you're a writer. What do you write?" I asked. 

"Historical novels for young adults and poetry," he answered. 

"Interesting," I responded, nodding. I liked the way he smiled at me and how he looked into my eyes when he spoke, like he was trying to know who I was. 

"Why won't you tell me what you are writing? If it's not a journal, what is it?"

"Well, I guess I am afraid you will get the wrong idea if I tell you," I answered. 

"Come on, tell me. I won't get a wrong idea. I am not a judgmental person," he added. 

"Erotica," I answered, bluntly.

"Cool!" he answered and smiled. "That's great." 

"I was afraid to tell you because I thought you might think I am frivolous," I said.

"Frivolous," he repeated and laughed, throwing his head back. "Why would I think erotica is frivolous?" He took a sip of his coffee and leaned forward, closer to me. "You don't look like a frivolous person," he added. "And I'd say good truthful erotica is life-affirming." He laughed. 

"Really!" I responded, surprised. Suddenly, I felt myself relaxing and getting really turned on by the way he said that and how he looked at me. I was silent. I took a sip of my coffee, looking at him. I didn't know what to say. It had been so long that I had even had a conversation with a man, let alone a man like him.

"By the way, my name is Tristan, what's yours?" he asked. He smiled, looking into my eyes. 

"Sharon," I answered. "Glad to meet you," I added, extending my hand to shake his. When he took my hand, his grip was firm, yet gentle. I was feeling fascinated and excited and wanted to get to know him better. 

"So what brings you to our fair town?" I asked. 

"Good question," he answered. "I don't really know where I am. I just took off yesterday and started driving. I just needed to get away from my routine. I was in a rut—so I hopped in my car and just started driving—completely impulsively and spontaneously." 

"Wow!" I responded. "That's kind of how I ended up in this town about fifteen years ago and been here since," I said. 

He nodded, looking intently into my eyes. 

"I was a screenwriter in LA and was getting pretty successful, but I got pregnant and had a daughter but knew this guy was not the father type and I knew I didn't want to raise my daughter in tinsel town, so I got up and left. First I went back to my parents and couldn't take that and then went searching for the right place. One day, I drove through this town and liked it. I followed my intuition and bought some land from savings and an inheritance from an aunt." I paused. "That's it in a nutshell."

He nodded and smiled, looking into my eyes. We were both silent.

"Oh and I built my cabin myself," I told him. 

"You did," he said, surprised. His look revealed how impressed he was. 

"Yeah, I found salvaged doors and windows and read building books and in two years we moved in—though it wasn't really finished. Keira and I lived in a small trailer while I was building and I home schooled her, now she's finished college and working as a journalist in DC."

"Impressive," he said. 

"It's pretty small and funky but comfortable," I said. "After LA and seeing how my parents and their friends lived, I wanted out of the whole shebang—the malls, the shopping, the whole materialistic way of life. I wanted something different for my daughter."

"Sounds like we have some things in common," he said. "I live in a cabin off the grid about three hours from here."

"Really, off the grid?" I asked, even more interested. 

"Yes, I haven't had an electric bill in eight years," he added. 

After an awkward silence, I took a deep breath and decided to be bold. I glanced over at my notebook at the corner table and turned back to him. I took a deep breath.

"Would you like to hear some of my erotica?" I asked, not believing I had the nerve to ask him. 

"Here?" he asked, looking surprised at my question. 

"No, silly, back at my cabin," I said. "I live five minutes from here, unless you are in a hurry to get somewhere. I would like to read some to you to see what you think." 

"That's brave of you, inviting a perfect stranger back to your place to read erotica," he said, looking into my eyes. 

"Maybe," I said. "But I can take care of myself," I added, taking a sip of coffee, my eyes looking at him over the edge of my mug. 

He was right. What was I thinking? But I always follow my intuition and it felt right. It also felt exciting. I think I saw the opportunity to live on the edge for a change. Not play it safe. It's not everyday that an interesting good looking stranger comes into your life. I needed something exciting. Something to shake me up and there was something about this stranger that made me want to know him. I was feeling things I hadn't felt in a long time. I was attracted to him and I just had to follow my instinct—even if it was dangerous. 

We finished our coffee and took our cups to the counter. I could feel his eyes on me as he followed my out the door. I knew my ass looked good in the tight jeans and I wasn't wearing a bra. I turned around to look at him and I could tell he liked what he was seeing. The way he looked made me feel sexy. My truck was out front with all my gardening rakes and shovels in the back. He drove a grey Subaru that was parked right behind me. 

"Follow me," I said, climbing into my truck. 

"Lead on, Sharon," he smiled. "I won't let you out of my sight." 

I kept my eye on him in the rearview mirror, but he was right behind me. He followed me up the long dirt road that leads to my cabin. We got out and walked up the overgrown path. Samson, my golden retriever came up for a sniff and some petting. We then walked past the fenced in barnyard and small barn where my horse, Gypsy stays with my two goats and six chickens. Gypsy came over to the fence to get her nose petted, the rooster lifted his head and crowed and one of the goats looked up and went back to nibbling some hay. 

"This is my family now that my daughter isn't here," I said.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you," he said, looking at my animals. 

"I don't know about that," I answered. "But maybe I am," I added, smiling and giving him a little wicked grin. "You'll find out."

In back of my cabin is a pretty good sized garden and a fenced in pasture for Gypsy. 

When we entered my cabin, he saw how small and funky it was—just one room with a kitchen area, a small bathroom and a loft where I sleep. I had lots of plants and bird feeders hanging outside on the window. A wood stove and some old, really comfy chairs and a couch. My laptop was on the table by the window, afternoon sunlight pouring in. 

"Small and cozy," he said, looking around. "I like it, though. It's amazing that you built this all by yourself."

"Well, I had help with some of it—the plumbing and electric had to have a licensed person, but I watched and did a lot of it," I said, proudly. 

"How about something to drink," I asked. "I have some beer, tea, water." I opened the cabinet under the cabinet and bent down, "And some Jack Daniels." I laughed. "I don't usually drink the hard stuff but every once in awhile I take a little nip." 

"How about a beer," he said. "No glass. The bottle is fine." 

"Cool, I'll have a beer too," I said. I went to the refrigerator, got the beer and opened it. I handed one to him and we clicked bottles. "To life affirming truth," he said, looking into my eyes. 

I laughed at his reference to the quote he had read earlier. "I'll drink to that," I said. We both took a big drink and both let out a loud "Ahhhhhhh!" We smiled at our common response to the cold beer, our eyes fixed on each other. 

"So, do you want to hear one of my stories?" I asked, though I was definitely nervous, not sure what he would think or what would happen. 

"Isn't that why I'm here," he answered. He smiled, looking into my eyes. I looked at him and nodded, then took a sip of my beer. 

"Well, here goes," I said, taking a deep apprehensive breath. I went over to my little filing box on the floor by the table and pulled out a folder that had a stack of stories. 

I glanced at him as I thumbed through the pile, smiled and went back to looking. I pulled one out and nodded. "Hmmmmmm, you might like this," I said, sitting down so that I was in front of him rather than in back of the table. I was a little breathless as I looked down at the first page then at him. 

"I want you to know I've never read these stories to anyone. You're the first one," I added. "In fact you're the first man I've had here, like this—I mean other than the plumber or electrician." 

"I'm surprised," he said. "Such a pretty woman, I'd think guys would be beating down the door to meet you." 

"I like it this way?" she said. "Besides the guys around here are either married or they're drunks and usually both."

"Well, I'm flattered and honored that you are opening up your home to me. It's not everyday I get to hear erotica read to me by such a beautiful woman." 

I think I blushed when he said that. I was nervous but at the same time, eager; however, the thought that I might be nuts also crossed my mind but I shoved it aside. 

"Well, here goes," I said again, taking a big swallow of beer and cleared my throat. "It's called, "The Pick Up."

"I'm all ears," he said, sitting back in his chair, his hand on the beer bottle.

I looked at him then started reading.

===

It was a Friday night and I was horny. I decided to go on the prowl and see if I could pick some guy up and bring him back to my bed. I knew it was dangerous but that added to the excitement. I got dressed in the black dress I bought for such occasions. It was tight and came mid-thigh. It was cut very low in the front and barely covered my tits. The push up bra I wore revealed a lot of cleavage. I put on a pair of black shiny boots that came just below my knee. I looked at myself in the mirror and said if this doesn't hook me a man, nothing will. I put on a small black beret that added to the look. My long blond hair came half way down my back. I know what men like in women and I like showing my body off. I was out for the kill."

===

I glanced up to see how Tristan was reacting. I was nervous and took a sip of my beer. He was looking at me intently, listening, with a slight smile. I cleared my throat and continued. 

===

I drove to my favorite bar called "The Pink Flamingo." It was the place to go to meet people on the prowl. It was dark and usually had a good band. I went to the bar and ordered a Dirty Martini. The place was crowded with people dancing, grinding away with the music. I sipped my drink and looked around to see if I could see anyone who looked interesting. I turned around on my stool, leaned back so that my tits stood out. My legs were crossed and the black dress was high on my thighs. I knew it wouldn't take long to lure some horny guy—someone as horny as me. 

Just then I saw him and he saw me. He was standing on the other side of the room, with a glass in his hand. Our eyes met and he smiled and lifted his glass to me. I smiled back then turned around on my stool to face the bar. I took a sip of my drink and then glanced back at him and smiled again. I wanted him and was luring him to me. He came and stood next to me and smiled. He was tall with deep blue eyes and a dimple when he smiled. He had long brown hair and an earring dangling from one ear. He wore a tight maroon t- shirt and tight jeans—just the kind of guy that turned me on." 

===

I stopped reading again. "Does this surprise you?" I asked. 

""No, not really," he answered. "You write well. It's giving me a little insight into you," he added. 

"I can't believe I'm reading this to you," I said. "I don't know what got into me, to do this." 

"You're a writer and you want to be heard," he said. "Keep reading."

I nodded and smiled. I looked down at my story and took another sip of my beer and continued.

===

"Can I buy you another drink," he asked. 

"Sure," I said. "I bet you want to get me drunk so you can fuck me."

"I didn't expect you to be so direct, but I think that's why you're here, isn't it?"

"Maybe," I said, smiling coyly. "And why are you here?" 

"To meet someone like you," he said. 

"I see. And do you like what you see?" I asked. 

"I do. You're beautiful and hot looking," he said.

"I could say the same about you."

He ordered us two more drinks. He had his hand on my thigh and was inching it up towards my crotch. "You don't waste time, do you?" I said, as I placed my hand on his hand. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"No, I like it. I'm getting hot with your hand there." I said.

"Me, too," he said, looking at my tits barely covered by my dress.

Our drinks came and I took a big sip of the Martini and he took a big sip of his scotch. 

"Should we tell each other our real names or make up names? I asked.

"Names don't matter. We're not interested in a relationship, are we?" he said and smiled. 

"No relationship. You know what we want," I said.

"Right." he said and smiled at me. 

I was getting drunk after two drinks and leaned into him, my tits against his arm. He had his hand up my dress, gently squeezing my thigh. It was close to my pussy and he knew he was tantalizing me. I reached over and rubbed my hand up and down his cock. I could tell he was big and I was going to have a work out tonight. 

"Come home with me," I said."

"Let's go in the alley," he said. "I need to fuck you now. I'm so horny."

He grabbed my hand and we went outside and down an alley next to the bar. It was dark. He pushed me against the wall, lifted up my dress. I wasn't wearing panties.

I wanted him. I grabbed his balls and then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out. "Fuck me," I said. 

====

While I was reading, my pussy was tingling and I was getting hot. My breathing got faster. I didn't think this would happen, but I was getting aroused. I looked at Tristan and noticed a bulge in his jeans and knew my story was getting to him. 

"Where is this heading," I thought, grabbing my beer and took a big drink, feeling a sudden need to touch my pussy, to relieve the intense craving that was building between my legs. I could not believe how horny I was getting from my story. 

"Keep going," he said. Our eyes met. "I'm liking this."

I shifted in my chair and stretched my legs straight out, spreading them so that my legs were on either side of his legs. He looked at my crotch, then back at my eyes. 

"Okay, here goes," I said, glancing at the bulge in his jeans then continued, my pussy on fire.

======

He turned me around, lifted up my dress. I bent over with my hands on the wall, my pussy dripping. He took his cock, quickly put on a condum and moved it up and down my slit and then rammed into me as hard as he could. "Oh god, fuck me. That's it, fuck me hard," I screamed, not caring if anyone heard me. Fuck me!"

====

My words were getting me so hot. My pussy was driving me crazy. I spread my legs wider, opening and closing them, feeling the seam of my jeans pressing against my pussy. He was biting his lower lip, his eyes on my crotch as my legs opened and closed. I looked at his cock bulging in his jeans then back at the page. I was having trouble concentrated but I forced my self and continued.

====

His big cock was ramming into me and the juice from my cunt was dripping down my thigh He whispered in my ear, "Do you want me to stop?"

"Keep fucking me, you bastard. I want your cock in me. Give it to me harder!"

He grabbed my tits while he continued fucking me and whispered in my ear, "I love your tight cunt. I love fucking you."

His breath on my ears and his dirty talk was driving me crazy and I screamed, 

"Oh baby fuck me harder. I want it bad. Fuck me ohhhhhhhhgod Fuck me harder! Fuck me, fuck me!" 

===

Suddenly, I couldn't stand it anymore. I lost it. I threw the story down on the table. I stood up, our eyes met. I took a step, straddled him, his hands grabbed my ass and pulled me down hard on his cock, grinding into my pussy. We didn't speak-- our grinding getting harder. We both lost it. He lifted himself off the chair, his cock pressed hard against my pussy. He then fell back to the chair and I slammed down on him, my pussy rubbing hard against his cock, driving me out of my mind. I had never been so horny. We were humping each other harder and harder, fucking through our clothes. Suddenly, I felt a huge orgasm sweeping over me. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhfuck I'm cummmmmmming!" I screamed, my nails gripping his shoulders, my head facing the ceiling, his hands squeezing my ass as a huge orgasm rolled through me. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh I'm cummmmmmmming, I'm cummmmmmming," I screamed and collapsed on his chest. 


The Stranger Ch. 01



He was still humping me and I had another smaller orgasm. I shuddered then felt him lowering me to the floor. He spread my legs and continued humping me. I wrapped my legs around his back, holding him tightly. I then got my hands on his chest and pushed him off of me. I stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the ladder to my loft, our hungry eyes locked on each other. 

He followed me up and we wrapped our arms around each other, our tongues swirling around each others mouths. As we kissed, we stumbled closer to my bed. He reached down and started to unbutton my jeans while I reached for his jeans, our mouths devouring each other.

I stepped back and squirmed out of my jeans, pulled my t-shirt off and lay on the bed, my legs wide apart. He tossed his jeans across the room. I saw his cock as he crawled towards me, my arms reaching for him. 

He took his cock and started moving it slowly up and down my pussy. The sensation was overwhelming me. I wanted his cock deep in me, I needed it, but he was teasing me, moving the tip of his cock up against my wet pussy, driving me insane. 

"I want your cock!" I yelled. "Give it to me, ohhhhh give it to me. I need it I need it," I cried. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

He smiled and suddenly, reared back, his eyes looking into mine as he thrust forward, opening me, filling me, my mouth wide open, my silent scream caught deep in my throat, no sound coming, as his big cock drove deep into my pussy. It had been such a long time that I had a cock in me that the sensation rippling through out my body was both painful and thrilling at the same time. He pulled out and rammed his cock deep into me again and again, each time going deeper and deeper. I thought I'd pass out as he filled me with each hard thrust. 

He then surprised me by rolling over on his back, pulling me on top, his cock still in me. I sat up, straddling him, his cock deep in my dripping pussy. I put my hands on his chest and lifted myself up on my knees and came down hard on his cock, "Aahhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I screamed, my pussy filled with his cock. 

"Ride me! Ride me!" he yelled.

I rose up and came down hard, then harder, again and again on the verge of a huge orgasm. My tits were bouncing, my hair flailing, my whole body trembled as I shuddered, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh fuck I'm cummmmmmmmng I'm cummmmmmmming here it comes ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck this is so good!

I'm cummmmmmming," I screamed.

Suddenly, as I the intense orgasm swept through me, he flipped me on my back and got up on his knees between my wide open legs. His cock was in his hand. He looked down at me and then without hesitation thrust his cock deep into me and another orgasm swept over me, and another. He pulled out and rammed his cock into me again and again. I loved how rough he was, how he was taking me. And when I felt him tense and knew he was about to cum, my pussy muscles gripped his cock, wanting his cum to fill me. He pulled out and thrust again, screaming, "Ohhhhhhhh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and suddenly his cum gushed deep into me as he yelled, "I'm cummmmmming. His screaming and his swollen cock caused me to orgasm again as both of us screamed, his cum gushing into my pussy. He collapsed on me and we both just lay there, gasping and panting, not sure where in the world we were. 

When he rolled off of my body, lying next to me, we looked up at ceiling, sunlight pouring in through the skylight over the bed. We were still breathing heavily, slowly coming back to earth. Neither of us spoke. After a few minutes of silence, I got up on my elbow and looked down at him. We smiled.

"Well, I guess you liked my story," I said. 

"I did, but I like this story better," he answered, grinning at me. 

"If you stick around for awhile and behave, maybe I'll read you a bed time story," I said.

"If it's anywhere like the last one, I don't think we will get much sleep," he said, smiling at me. 

"I'll take my chances," I answered, laying my head on his shoulder. We lay quietly and within a few minutes we both fell asleep.



The Stranger Ch. 02



When I woke up, it was getting dark out. The last remnants of sunlight were coming through the skylight. Tristan was still asleep. I glanced over at him, studying his face as he slept, noticing the way his nose curved, his lips, his long grayish hair and beard. Having a man in my bed was so strange after all these years. Four or so hours ago he was a stranger. Now, what was he? What would he become, if anything? What was happening to my safe, quiet life?

I got up, slipped on my jeans, but not my top and climbed down the ladder to go to the bathroom. I threw water on my face, looking at my eyes, my tousled hair. I was excited by what was happening, that Tristan was up in my loft and that I had the nerve to invite him here to listen to my erotic stories. "I don't believe this is happening," I said to myself, looking into my eyes in the mirror. I brushed my teeth and leaned over, spooning water into my mouth with my hand as I rinsed and then spit it out. "Where is this heading, Sharon?" I asked myself. I often talk to myself like that. Just then I heard his footsteps in the loft. I heard him coming down the ladder and within a minute he was standing at the entrance of the bathroom.

"Mind if I join you," he asked, glancing around.

"Sure if you think both of us can be in here at the same time, it's pretty tiny," I said. 

He stepped in and kissed me. Both of us had on only our jeans and no shirts. He put his arms around me and my tits crushed against his chest. 

"That was a nice nap we had," he said. "We really conked out."

"We did," I nodded and paused looking at him. "This is pretty weird. I've never done anything like this before," I said.

"It's weird for me too," he said. "When I took off this morning with no idea where I was going, I never thought I would end up with someone like you."

"I'm usually very shy," I said. "I keep to myself and live a quiet life—this is so unlike me."

"Me, too," he said. 

We looked at each other, not quite sure what to say.

"Hey, how about a cup of tea?" I suggested. 

"Great! I could go for a cup of tea," he responded. 

I squeezed by him and went into the kitchen area to put on the tea. I grabbed a flannel shirt from a hook near the back door and put it on but didn't button it. Tristan was on the other side of the cabin looking at some pictures on the wall. He then came over to me and put his hands on my hips. 

"I feel lucky that we met," he said. 

"I think we're both lucky," I responded, smiling at him.

"Well, it might be luck, but you also have to make what you want to happen actually happen when opportunities present themselves," he said. "Seize the day!"

"Well, Mr. Philosopher, it's not always easy. It's scary to do that," I said.

"I know," he said and nodded. "I was just thinking how my life has changed suddenly by taking off this morning like I did. I just took off with no idea where I was going. I just drove and ended up in this town and that café and we met."

The teapot whistled and I poured two mugs over the tea bags.

"Yes and now here I am with a stranger in my cabin with my tits exposed. I never thought this would happen. I think I write erotica because it's safe. I can fantasize about things that would never happen and then look what happened today."

"Right, life's little twists and turns," he said. He then paused and looked at me. "Your story surprised me," he said.

"Wait until you hear some of the other stories," I responded. "My imagination is much wilder than I am," she added. 

"But does that mean you want to be that wild?" he asked.

I took a sip of my tea and looked him in the eyes. "Yes, I think I do, but I frighten myself."

"What do you mean?" he asked. 

"I don't understand why I write what I do? Why do I fantasize about being picked up in a bar or ravished? What does that say about me? 

"Those are honest questions," he said. 

"The story I read to you, "The Pickup," I wouldn't dress like that or do what she did to pick up a stranger."

"But you did. You picked up me in the café."

"Hmmmm--that's right, but it's not the same. I didn't dress up in order to lure a man," I answered. 

"You looked pretty sexy in those tight jeans and tee shirt without a bra," he said. "Maybe you do try to seduce men with your body and don't realize it and the way we looked each other was definitely sexy." 

"I like how I look and feel in tight jeans. I like to feel sexy. And maybe you're right. I was attracted to you and I was writing an erotic story. I was turned on by how you looked at me, but it was very hard for me to invite you to my cabin. I've never done anything like that before."

"You followed your urge and overcame your fear and went after something you wanted," I said. "Maybe you are tired of living a fantasy life and when we met, you grabbed the opportunity."

"You're right. I am tired of fantasizing and wanted something to happen." I paused, looking at him. "Something clicked when I saw you but it's still hard to explain." 

He smiled. "Well, I'm glad I just happened to stop at that café and you decided to be brave and offer to read me your story." He took a sip of his tea. "You made this happen, didn't you?"

"Yes, but it still feels strange, but I think I like it," I said.

We were both quiet, sipping out tea and then I remembered a story I thought he would like. 

"This reminds me of a story I wrote. Would you like to hear another story?" I asked. 

"Sure, but if it's like the other one, I'm not sure you'll get to finish it."

I laughed then picked up my folder and thumbed through the pile. Before I read, I got up to pour both of us more tea. I glanced at him while I was at the stove and noticed how he was looking at my body. My tits were barely covered by my flannel shirt and I know how my ass looks in the tight jeans. When I came back to the table, I smiled. "I like how you look at me," I whispered, leaning close to him. 

He smiled but I could tell he was surprised by what I said. "I like how you look," he whispered. "You're very sexy." 

I laughed when he said that and I may have blushed, but I liked hearing he thought I was sexy. 

"So what's the name of this story?" he asked. 

I took a sip of my tea and looked at him. "I'm almost embarrassed to read it but I want you to hear it." 

"Don't be embarrassed. I won't judge you;in fact I am fascinated by you." 

"Fascinated?" I responded. 

"Yes," he answered, smiling and motioning his hand for me to read the story.

I looked at him and then down at my story. "Okay, this is about what we were talking about—getting what you want." I paused. "Here it goes….Wanting to be Ravished." 

=============

Caroline was in her senior year at the College of Art and was a painting major. She had access to the studios at anytime and spent most of her waking hours in the cozy corner of the big studio next to a large floor to ceiling window. It was on the north side of the building and she loved the light that came in. She also spent a lot of time in her studio because she had a huge crush on her teacher, Jonathan Lockhart. 

He also spent a lot of time in the studio since his divorce. He was a developing a good reputation as an artist and was preparing for a show at the Peterson Gallery, a prestigious place to have a one-man show. 

Though he had a studio at his house, since the divorce, he could not afford another studio so he used the college. Caroline loved being in the studio with Jonathan and valued his comments on her painting but more than that she wanted him. When he stood next to her looking at her painting, she wanted him to grab her and fuck her on the floor. They would talk about color and shapes and how the lines intersect and what were her plans and how much talent she had, but everything was intellectual. She suppressed her lust and pretended that their relationship was teacher-student, nothing more, but the more she suppressed, the hornier she got. He was in his forties, graying slightly. She was twenty-two, a student, someone teachers were not suppose take advantage of.

Caroline was determined, however, to have him cross over the line and fuck her. She became obsessed and could not wait to get to the studio every morning, knowing he would be there working on his show. She stayed late at night and he was impressed with how serious she was as a painter but had no clue at how serious she was about seducing him. 

She knew she had to be more aggressive to get beyond the platonic, intellectual relationship. She started wearing sexier clothes--short mini skirts with low cut blouses, tight low cut jeans with tee shirts without a bra. When he stood next to her, she stood closer than usual and brushed her tits against his arm. It was late spring and the days were getting hotter. She wore tight cut off jeans or short shorts that barely covered her ass and her bikini top which barely contained her tits. She caught him looking at her body a few times and smiled at him, letting him know she liked how he looked at her. She thought she was breaking through his reserve but knew she he had to be brazen and daring to get him to take her. 

============= 

I stopped reading and took a sip of tea. We smiled at each other then he took a breath. "Interesting story," he said. "It gives me insight into how some women think." He was tugging on his beard as he thought. "I like the story," he added, "I think I'm a lot like Jonathan—kind of reserved." 

"Really?" I questioned. "Reserved?" I laughed. "I don't know about that after this afternoon."

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"That's interesting, because though I'm not like Caroline I would like to be," I said. 

"You'd like to be more daring and seductive," he asked. 

"Yes, but I'm too afraid," I answered. "Well, here's more of the story," I said and continued reading. 

============ 

One night Caroline brought a bottle of wine to the studio, got two glasses and walked over to Jonathan's side of the studio. All the other students were gone. 

She wore a short tight denim skirt that covered very little of her thighs, a small peasant blouse that was low on her shoulders and revealed a lot of cleavage. She wore no bra and knew her tits were visible through the blouse. "If this doesn't get him to fuck me, nothing will," she thought.

Jonathan was painting and Caroline stood next to him, holding the wine. "Let's get drunk," she said. 

Jonathan stopped painting and looked at her. "Caroline!" he said. "What are you saying?"

"I said, let's get drunk and fuck." 

"What's gotten into you?" he asked. 

"Come on, Jonathan. I see how you look at me. Stop pretending you're this damn high and mighty art teacher and I'm just your student." 

"Caroline, this is crazy, I can't. We can't," he said, shocked at her behavior. 

"Who says we can't. Admit it, you like me and you like my body. I see how you look at me. So why can't we be more than teacher and student. I can tell you want to fuck me."

Caroline poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Jonathan. "Come on let's get drunk. I have a joint here and we can get stoned and fuck each other like wild animals."

"I've never seen this side of you," Jonathan said. 

"That's because you wouldn't look, but I've been seducing you for weeks and I see 

how you look at me that you like what you see. You've been wanting this happen."

Jonathan took a sip of wine and looked at Caroline smiling at him. She took a sip of her wine. "Admit it, I turn you on. You want me but think it's wrong to fuck a student and that's stupid. Admit it, you want to fuck me."

Jonathan was silent. He looked Caroline in the eyes and then looked at her tits. Caroline watched his eyes and smiled. "You want to grab my tits, don't you Jonathan? Admit it, be honest with yourself. You've been wanting to fuck me for weeks haven't you?"

"Caroline, I have to admit it, I do find you attractive," he said.

"No you find me more than attractive. I make you horny," Caroline said. "I see how 

you look at my ass and then you look away when I turn, Admit it, Jonathan" 

"Yes, I find you sexy and I admit it Caroline, if I weren't your teacher, I'd want to…ah, fuck you." 

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now we're being honest."

They finished one glass of wine and then another. They sat on the bench Jonathan had in front of his canvas where he'd sit and study his work. Caroline took out a joint, lit it and passed it to Jonathan. 

=============

I stopped reading and looked at Tristan. "Would you like to get stoned?" I asked. "I have some pot."

"Sure," he said. "I haven't smoked in years, but I would like to. Why not!"

I opened up a small metal box and had a joint already rolled. "I keep this stash here for inspiration," I said. I lit the joint, took a hit and passed it to him. He coughed and looked at me. 

"Are you trying to seduce me like Caroline?" he asked. 

"Maybe," I answered and took a deep hit of the joint. "Ready to hear the rest of the story?" I asked.

It was getting dark out and I had some candles on the table and lit them. I moved my pages closer to the candle light and started to read. The pot was taking affect and I stared at the flickering flame of the candles for a minute before I continued reading. 

============

The combination of wine and pot relaxed Jonathan. Caroline sat next to him on the bench and kept her thigh pressed against his. The wine was finished. The joint was smoked. Caroline reached into her pocketbook and took out two candles already in candle holders. She lit them and placed them on a small table next to the bench. She then walked over to the light switch and turned out the light. When she came back she stood in front of Jonathan, spread her legs and straddled him, but did not sit down. He looked up at her as she looked down at him with a devilish smile. Her short skirt was high on her thighs. She leaned forward so that her tits were at eye level. He looked at her tits and her open legs hovering above his cock straining to burst through his jeans. 

"You want to fuck me now don't you?" she said. 

"Yes," Jonathan said. 

Caroline sat down on his lap, her legs spread, her pussy against his bulging cock.

"I want to hear you say it," she said, "Tell me what you want to do to me." She pussy rubbed her up and down Jonathan's bulging cock and looked him in the eyes.

Just then Jonathan grabbed Caroline's ass and said, "Okay damn it, I want to fuck you. Is that what you want to hear?" He started pulling her against him and pushing his cock harder against her pussy. "I want you!" he said, tightening his grip on her ass. "I'm going to fuck your god damn brains out," he added. 

Suddenly Caroline stopped rubbing against his cock and pushed his hands away from her ass. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked. She then got up and backed away pretending to be frightened. 

"What's wrong?" Jonathan asked. 

"We shouldn't be doing this Mr. Lockhart. You're a teacher. And I'm just an innocent student. This is naughty."

Jonathan was surprised at this turn of events but his cock was so hard and the wine and pot had broken down his reserve. He stood up and had an angry look as she backed away.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Damn it, you're a cock tease." 

"I'm sorry. Mr. Lockhart, I didn't mean to get you so worked up. I didn't know how I was dressed would make you so horny," she said coyly.

Caroline backed up and Jonathan moved forward. "You're a tease." He moved towards her and grabbed her wrists, "And now you're going to get what you deserve."

"No, Mr. Lockhart. Please Mr. Lockhart, don't hurt me."

"Caroline, don't play games with me. You want it. You want me to fuck you."

Caroline had never seen this look on his face or the tone of voice, but this was exciting her. She was getting what she wanted. 

Jonathan grabbed Caroline's blouse and pulled it down so that her tits were exposed. He then pulled him to her with his hands firmly on her ass and ground his cock into her pussy. "Let me go, Mr. Lockhart. Don't rape me." 

Suddenly, they were on the floor. Jonathan had her legs spread. He ripped off her panties and held her down as Caroline tried wriggling away. 

"You want this," he said. "You want it bad, don't you?"

"No. No. No." Caroline screamed, pounding on his chest, "Let me go!" 

Jonathan spread her legs and plunged his cock into her wet pussy. He knew she was ready for him and as he rammed into her, she said, "No Stop, please stop," but at the same time, lifted her self up so that he could get deeper. 

Jonathan face was above hers. He looked her in the eyes with a fierceness she had never seen. "You're a god-damn cock tease and you're getting what you want, aren't you?" 

"Yes, oh, yes, I want it bad. Fuck me!" She was getting what she wanted and screamed louder, ‘FUCK ME. I WANT IT. DO ME HARDER!"

==========

Just then I looked up at Tristan and he looked at me. My mouth was open. I was breathing heavily. My pussy was tingling. I put the story on the table. I could see his cock bulging in his jeans. I spread my legs wide apart, the seam of my jeans tight against my crotch. Our eyes were fixed on each other. I bit my lower lip and put my hand on my mound and started rubbing my pussy. I could not believe I was doing this but I could not stop I was so hot. I wanted to be ravished. He saw my hand and he started rubbing his bulging cock through his jeans. My flannel shirt was open and my nipples were hard. Without having to say a word we had become Caroline and Jonathan.  

He suddenly stood up, grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the chair. 

"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to shake loose. He looked into my eyes. "What are you doing?" I repeated. 

"What do you think I'm doing?" His hands were tight on my wrists and he suddenly pushed me up against the ladder to my loft and held me there.

"I want you!" he said. He then grabbed my ass and pulled me hard against him, rubbing his cock against my pussy. 

"Please, let me go. Don‘t hurt me," I whimpered and tried to squirm away. 

"You can't read a story like that and expect to get away with it. You're going to get what you deserve you cock tease. "

"Let me go. You can't do this to me!" I yelled, getting into the game we were playing.

"Oh yes I can," he said, his face up against mine. "He held my ass with one hand, unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down. I was wild with lust. He tossed my jeans across the room. 

"Tell me you don't want me to fuck you," he said, through gritted teeth. "Come on." Tell me to stop."

"Don't do this. Let me go," I screamed. "You can't do this to me."

"I'm giving you what you want," he said, spreading my legs and moving his cock up and down my wet pussy, driving me insane. 

"Let me go," I yelled, still trying to squirm away but the more I squirmed the harder he held me against the ladder, pushing his cock into my wet pussy. He was taking me, ravishing me, giving me what he knew I wanted. He then lowered me to the floor and spread my kegs wide apart. I was completely open, completely vulnerable. He thrust his cock hard into me causing me to gasp and scream,"Ohhhhhhhhhhmygod!"

"You like that, don't you?" he said, looking down at me---his cock just above my 

dripping pussy. 

"Let me go," I screamed, pushing at his chest. "Please, don't do this to me," I yelled. 

He held me down and moved his cock up and down my wet engorged pussy.

I moaned, loving the feel his hot cock.

"You want my cock in you, don't you? You want it bad, don't you, don't you? Beg for it."

With each swipe of my pussy, the tip of his cock went deeper, making me crazed with lust. Finally, I lifted myself and yelled, "Stop teasing me you bastard. Fuck me!" 

"You really want it, don't you?" he said again, keeping his cock on the edge of my pussy, putting the tip in and pulling out, teasing me. 




The Stranger Ch. 02



Shelly's last orgasm had sent a river of juices running from her pussy down the cleft of her ass cheeks. The stranger's tongue followed that trail, lapping up every drop. She felt his hands on her ass, his thumbs sliding in between, spreading her wide. An involuntary moan slipped out from between her lips as she felt his eyes feast on her gleaming asshole. His tongue followed, tracing little delicate swirls around her hole before sliding inside. Her asshole was slick with pussy juice, and his tongue slipped in easily, his nose resting between her pussy lips. She felt him inhale her scent as he ate. 

Shelly bucked as much as the restraints would allow, trying to get his tongue deeper inside her. "More," she begged softly.

The stranger looked up, his face damp with her juices, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "More? Oh, I'll give you more, you little slut."

Quite suddenly Shelly found herself unbound, though not for long. In a moment he had flipped her body over so that she was on her hands and knees. He placed a few of her throw pillows underneath her belly to keep her from lying flat on the bed. Then the cuffs around her wrists were secured once more. He spread her knees wide, giving him complete access to her ass and pussy, then secured the restraints around her thighs and ankles again.

Shelly craned her neck to see behind her, but the stranger had disappeared from view. A moment later he returned, carrying a mirror that had been hanging in the hall outside her bedroom. This he propped against the headboard in front of her face. "Now you can watch too," he said sweetly, reaching down to tweak one of her hanging nipples.

He returned to her backside. "Now," he said, his voice raised slightly so she was sure to hear him, "you went into the bathroom at the bar, but I don't believe you used the facilities. Is that right?"

Shelly shook her head. "I guess I was so excited, I forgot that I had to pee."

The stranger nodded with satisfaction. "So I gathered from the speed with which you returned. You must still need to pee?"

Shelly did. Quite badly, in fact, especially after those orgasms. She always needed to pee after she came. She nodded her response.

"Then I expect I'll have to untie you and let you go to the bathroom," he said, making his way back up to the front of the bed, and made as if to undo the restraints. Suddenly he stopped and looked into her eyes. "But maybe not." 

He returned to the foot of the bed, knelt between her spread legs, and said, "I want you to piss, right here, right now. And if you do as you're instructed, I'll give you more like you asked for."

Shelly's face turned dark red. It was one thing to endure the humiliation of someone else pissing on you (after all, she couldn't have done anything to stop him apart from using the safe word), but pissing in her own bed, in front of a stranger, with everything so exposed...

The stranger's voice interrupted her panicked thoughts. "I want you to concentrate very hard on your full bladder. I want you to concentrate not on your fear or guilt, but on the relief you'll feel when you let go and release all that piss."

Shelly tried to do as she was told. It -would- feel good to go...and really, what other choice did she have? But she just couldn't do it.

Then she felt his hands on her belly, just above her mound, pushing gently, encouraging her. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. You can do it."

Shelly frowned in concentration. She was finding it more and more urgent that she empty her bladder, right now--

A tiny stream of piss squirted from between her fat pussy lips. Though it immediately stopped, the stranger let out an encouraging moan. "That's a good girl," he murmured softly, and Shelly watched in the mirror as he moved again between her thighs. She felt his tongue on her clit. Her pussy twitched and squirted a little more piss, this time onto his face. Shame and embarrassment washed over Shelly, but the stranger just licked harder at her pussy. "More, baby," he moaned.

Something in Shelly clicked, and with a shuddering exhale she let go. A thick stream of piss squirted from her twat, soaking his face and pouring onto the sheets beneath her. He opened his mouth and let it fill with urine before swallowing. The next mouthful he squirted all over her pussy and asshole. Then he pulled back a little and watched with fascination as the stream arced from her pisshole down onto the bed. She must have held this in for a long time. The piss just kept coming.

He cupped his hand over her pussy and watched the piss squirt out around his hand and between his fingers. He massaged her clit and even slid a finger inside her. Shelly kept pissing. 

At last her stream began to slow. He watched her little asshole clench and flex with the effort of emptying every last drop. At last it seemed she was empty. He wasted no time but attacked her dripping twat with his whole face, licking her clit, nuzzling her lips and hole with his nose, putting his mouth over her whole pussy. 

Shelly moaned weakly. The humiliation and effort of performing private bodily functions in front of a total stranger had drained her in the way that no orgasm could. She felt herself beginning to drift off.

---

That she was asleep was of little concern to the stranger. He suspected it once the moans stopped, and raised his head from her pussy to ascertain the truth. Her sleeping reflection confirmed his suspicion, but did not deter his enthusiasm in the slightest. He finished cleaning her pussy, then ran his tongue up her asscrack and licked the rest of her juices from her tight hole.

When he had satisfied himself momentarily with the taste of her, he bent down and fetched something from a bag at the foot of the bed. It was a a string of anal beads. Each bead was covered either in tiny spikes or deep ridges, and each one was larger than the last. He fetched also from the bag a bottle of lube, which he poured copiously over the beads. He also squirted a large dollop on her anus, and pushed a little inside with his finger. She was so tight it made his cock twitch. He wrapped a hand around his hard dick and jerked it for a moment, almost absentmindedly, then placed the first bead against her asshole.



The Stranger Ch. 02



"You're driving me crazy," I yelled. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Take me! Ravish me!" 

I then wrapped my legs around his waist, my ankles locked on his ass I pulled him into me. He lifted me up and then rammed his cock into me, forcing me back to the floor. "Oh yes yes, I want it so bad. Fuck me hard. Harder. Harder. Harder," I yelled. 

I was out of my mind. I had never been fucked like this and this is what I wanted, needed, fantasized, wrote about and now it was happening. With each thrust, I screamed, "Ohhhhhhhhhmygod! I love it I love it I love it! Fuck me! Fuck me!" 

Suddenly, I felt my orgasm sweeping over me as wave after wave hit me, sending electric shocks through out my body, causing me to shudder and tremble. My mouth was wide open but no sound escaped as I I held my scream back until I could not contain it and I heard my voice fill the room, Ohhhhhhhhhhyes I'm cummmmmmmmmming!"

Just then I felt his cock swell in me. My pussy gripped his cock and I felt him thrusting faster and faster, yelling, "Ohhhhhhhhhh here it comes." And suddenly he erupted in me as spurt after spurt filled me and spilled out, dripping down my ass.

"Cum in me! Cum in me. I want it Fuck me!" I screamed as another orgasm swept over me and we came together. 

I could not believe how intensely I came as his cum filled my pussy. I was spent and he collapsed on me, his cock still deep in my pussy. Neither of us could move. We were panting and gasping for air. Finally, he rolled off of me and lay next to me on the floor. We couldn't speak. 

"Wow, that was wild," I finally said. 

"See what you started by reading me your story," he said. "This is all your fault."

"No it's not," I said. "You're just a dirty old man who takes advantage of young writers."

"No, you're a horny woman who seduces men with erotic stories." 

I was quiet for a minute than said. "Maybe you're right, but maybe I should be more careful who I read to…you're a pretty dangerous guy for a girl to bring home."

"Maybe we should both be more careful. We could turn this cabin into an inferno of lust," he said. 

"Hmmmm, I think I'd like that," I said. 

"So would I," he added. 

Suddenly, we were quiet as we lay on the floor. Both of us were wondering where all this was leading. Did I want him to stay? Who is this man? What did I want? All these years I've been alone, independent, free. Should I let him stay here where we could live out our sexual fantasies? Is this real, crazy or what?" I looked over at him and wondered what he was thinking. I took a deep breath. "Where will this end?" I wondered. Both of us were quiet as we lay on the floor in the light of the flickering candles. "Where will this end?" I repeated to myself, knowing he was probably wondering the same thing. 



The Stranger Ch. 03



We were still on the floor, my head on his shoulder. The cabin was dark except for the candles I had lit earlier. It was getting chilly. Through the window, I could see a full moon rising just above the trees. Finally, I turned my head towards Tristan. 

"I don't know about you but I am famished. I'm a great soup maker and made a pot of mushroom barely soup yesterday--want some?"

I asked. 

"That would be great," Tristan answered. "I only had that croissant at the café and yes, I've worked up an appetite," he said. He leaned over and kissed me lightly. "If you make soup the way you write stories, I'm in big trouble," he said. 

"Well, buddy, you might be in a jam you won't know how to get out of," I said, smiling. "I make wicked good soup."

"Sounds perfect, you wicked woman, you," he said, smiling. 

"How about making a fire in the wood stove," I asked. "It's going to be a chilly October night with that full moon." I got up and wiggled into my jeans, grabbed the flannel shirt I had thrown off and buttoned it half way up now that it was chilly in the cabin.

"I'll put the soup on and then I have to go feed Gypsy." 

He went to the wood bin next to the stove, gathered some kindling I had in a box and started a fire. I got the pot of soup out of the refrigerator and put it on the stove, then went out to the barnyard to feed the horse, goats and throw some cracked corn to the chickens. 

Within fifteen minutes, we had a nice fire going and the smell of the soup filled the room. The stove had a glass front and the flames made a nice glow. While I got bowls and spoons and stirred the soup, Tristan stood by the window looking up at the full moon. We were both quiet. 

After an afternoon and early evening of reading my erotic stories and then acting them out with Tristan, I was dizzy with thoughts racing through my mind. I could not believe what was happening to me. Years of living alone, raising my daughter, gardening jobs and writing these stories, then suddenly, out of the blue, this stranger enters my life. Would I ever be the same again? Would he stay or leave? Where was all of this heading? Where did I want it to go?

"What are you thinking?" I asked Tristan as he looked up at the moon. 

He turned to me and shrugged his shoulders. "This morning I was standing at my window, watching the leaves fall, realizing that my life was like those leaves falling to the earth to dry up and wither away and suddenly, impulsively I make the decision to just take off, drive, get away, not sure where I was heading and now here I am in a cabin of a beautiful sexy, intelligent writer reading me erotic stories and living our sexual fantasies." He paused. "I guess I'm trying to absorb all of this—nothing like this has ever happened to me before."

I nodded, looking at him at the window. "Me, too," I said. "I never expected to meet a stranger in the café and invite him to hear my stories. Do you think it was destiny that we met?" 

Before he answered, I said, "Soup's on," and carried two steaming bowls to the table. We sat down. I touched his hand. 

He took a sip of soup and said, "Hey, this is great soup. Perfect for a chilly night," he added. 

"So, mister, do you think it was destiny that we met?"

"No, I think it was random luck—not destiny. I think I just happened to stop in that café and you happened to be there. I don't believe in destiny or that this was meant to happen—it just did. I think we create our lives by taking advantage of opportunities that present themselves."

"Really, you think it was just an accident, a fluke that we met," I said. 

"Yep!"he said, sipping his soup, looking at me.

"And now what," I asked. "What do you want to happen now that we met by accident?" I looked at him, surprised by his philosophy. 

"I don't know what the future holds," he said. "All I know is I got in my car and just started driving. I broke out of my routine. I abandoned my work, my garden, my responsibilities, but meeting you has opened me up to things I hadn't realized I was missing. Now I'm not sure I want to go home to all of my responsibilities. I just want to feel free, let go," he said. 

"You're tired of being responsible and conscientious, aren't you?" she said,

"Right, I want to feel alive and free. Meeting you and being here this afternoon, hearing your stories, acting out sexual fantasies is making me wonder how I can ever go back to how I've been living all these years. It seems so sterile."

"What do you want to do?" I asked. "Are you going to keep traveling forever? Do you want to stay here and fuck everyday? Or go home?" 

"Do you want me to stay here?" he asked. "You have your life and responsibilities?"

"Good question," I responded. "I don't know. We just met. We hardly know each other." 



"That's right. The fact is we're both on journeys and our paths just happened to cross. I'm enjoying hearing your stories and getting to know you. Maybe if I stayed we could be good for each other. Maybe we would drive each other crazy. If I left, you'd be a great memory and I'd end up back at my cabin the richer for all that I experienced. Is there a good answer?" 

Both of us were silent, finishing up our soup. I was thinking about what Tristan had said and wondering what it would be like if he stayed. What it would be like if he left? 

Finally, I said, "Sometimes I think the problem with us writers is we think too much. We're always working out a plot, analyzing everything, imagining this scenario or that. We're too detached, too serious."

"That's true," he said.

I took our empty bowls to the sink. I put on water for tea and then came back to the table. 

He looked at me and smiled. I loved how his eyes looked in the candle light. He then sighed as he looked at me. 

"You're right about thinking too much," he said. "And the problem with being too serious, too much in our heads, is that we don't live in the present—the now." 

I nodded and thought about what he was saying. He continued. "It's a dilemma because the present becomes the future. What we do in the now can affect what happens." 

"You're right," I responded. "If we always think too much about the future, we miss the present. You're here with me now and we just shared this soup, this candlelight, that wonderful full moon and each other." 

Suddenly, both of us were quiet, staring at the flickering candlelight. Both of us were deep in thought, not sure what we wanted or where we were heading. 

"So, Tristan, do you think this a one night stand?" I asked. 

"I'm not sure," he said. "You're the one who said we writers think too much. We should live in the present, the now, and I'm trying to do that."

"Do you want this to be a one night stand?" I asked. 

"Do you?" he asked back. 

"Are you asking do I want to have a relationship rather than be two strangers passing in the night?" I paused. "My answer is—I don't know. This is new for me, too. Since my daughter left, I've lived in this cabin for the last few years alone. I like it, but at the same time, I'm not sure I want to live the rest of my life like this. You know, alone. I just don't want to go out looking for Mr. Right. I just thought he would show up or we would meet by accident." 

"I understand," I said. "So you're wondering if I'm Mr. Right."

"Yes, of course I'm wondering that," I answered. "I guess. I would like more time to see if we should hang out together for awhile and I am wonder what you're thinking." 

"I'm wondering the same thing," he said. "I think it's important to try to live without expectations. That way, I'm never disappointed and many times I'm surprised and delighted by the unexpected."

"That's a good philosophy," I said. "But it's hard not to have expectations."

"It's important though. I went on this journey just to get away. I didn't think. I had no plan, no expectations. I don't even know where I am or how far from home I am. I have no destination, but now I'm here with you and don't know whether I should stay or head out tomorrow."

"Let's stop thinking," I said. "Let's just go hour by hour."

"That's a deal." He said. "Let's shake hands to that."

I got up and put another log in the stove. Tristan smiled at me when I came back to the table. We both took a deep breath, looking at each other without speaking.

"I could go for another story," he said, that is if you don't mind reading to me." 

"Really, I'm flattered you'd want to hear another story or do you just want to get turned on." I said. 

"Both," he answered and I laughed. 

"I have a story that I think you'd like because it's about being too responsible and conscientious but deep down wanting to be free. "It's called, "Good Girl, Bad Boy." 

"Sounds interesting," I said. 

I picked up my folder on the table and thumbed through the pile of stories and pulled out the one I wanted to read. I looked over at him and said, "Here goes." I smiled. "I think you'll like this one." 

==================

Jessica Caldwell spent most of her time in the Biology Lab. She was twenty-two and finishing up her PhD work in Genetics. She was the youngest student to get a doctorate from the university. She graduated high school at sixteen, had a full scholarship at Smith. She finished in three years with honors and had a full scholarship for graduate school. She rarely dated and put all of her energy and time into her studies. 

One night while she was working, a young man came into the lab with a bucket and mop. He gathered the trash from several trash baskets and then started mopping on the other side of the lab. He wore a tee-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Jessica looked up him, noticed his muscular arms, then went back to her microscope. Every few minutes, she looked up from her microscope and over at the man mopping. She looked at his ass in his tight jeans and was having difficulty concentrating on her work. Something about his body was attracting him to her. She noticed an earring dangling from one ear. He had long hair, down to his shoulders, but she couldn't keep her eyes away from his ass in his tight jeans and muscular arms. He looked up and smiled at her. She smiled at him nervously then went back to her microscope, wondering what it was about him that attracted her. 

As he worked his way closer to where she was working, Jessica kept looking up at him and caught him looking at her. He smiled each time their glances met as if he sensed an attraction. Jessica prepared some new slides for the microscope, wrote down some notes and tried not to look at him, feeling nervous at the way he smiled at her. Quickly, she glanced at him then went back to the microscope. 

 One time when she looked over at him, he put the mop down alongside of the bucket and walked over to her. He stood close to her, his thigh touching her thigh and said, "I seem to be distracting you."

Jessica felt the warmth of his body as she turned and faced him. He looked her in the eyes and smiled. She was not used to a man standing so close to her, his leg pressed against her thigh and looking at her with such intensity. She never dated and the only men she talked to were her professors and other students. Jessica did not know what to say. She had one hand on the microscope as she looked into his eyes. 

"I'm Vincent," he said. "What's your name?" he asked, leaning against the lab table. Jessica looked at his arms, noticed a tattoo of an eagele and how tight the tee shirt was on his chest. 

"I'm Jessica," she answered. She wanted to tell him to move away but didn't. 

"We keep looking at each other," he said. 

"Yes." Jessica said. "I was watching you work. I'm not used to someone in the lab late at night."

"I liked the way we looked at each other. I'm feeling attracted to you," he said. "And I think you feel attracted to me."

"I don't know," Jessica said, nervously."I've got work to do. I have to get this experiment done before midnight." 

"But I'm distracting you, aren't I?" Vincent said, putting his hand on her hand.

Jessica started to pull her hand away, but Vincent gripped it tighter, keeping it in place. He moved his face closer to hers and smiled. "We're getting turned on, aren't we?" he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking him in the eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said. "Now if you'll let go of my hand, I have to get back to work."

"You don't really want to work," he said. "You want to fool around with me."

"What do you mean fool around with you?" Jessica responded.

"Fuck! That's what I mean," he said

Jessica was stunned and tried to pull her hand away from Vincent's. "Let go of my hand," she said, but he gripped it tighter. 



Vincent took Jessica's hand and moved it to the bulge in his tight jeans. He rubbed her hand up and down his hard cock. Jessica had never felt a cock before and looked down at her hand moving along the long hard bulge. Suddenly, she was breathing heavily. "You like the way that feels, don't you?"

With his other hand, Vincent reached inside Jessica's white lab coat and found her breasts. He started squeezing one of her tits. Jessica took her other hand and tried to push his hand away. "Stop that," she said, but suddenly felt a tingling sensation she had never felt before and held his hand on her tit and gasped, "Oh."

"You like that, don't you?" he said, rubbing her tit with one hand and moving her other hand up and down on his cock. "Your cunt is getting wet and your getting horny, aren't you?" Jessica was panting. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. 

No one had ever talked to Jessica like that. She wanted him to stop but found herself enjoying the feel of his cock on her hand and the way he was playing with her tits. She felt herself getting wet between her legs. Vincent moved his lips to Jessica's ear and started licking it, first around the edges and then inserted, tickling her and causing a tingle to go through her body. Jessica was sitting on her lab stool. She was wearing a skirt. Vincent took his hand from the one holding his cock and placed it on her thigh and then pushed her legs apart. He moved his hand up her leg until it reached her crotch and placed his hand on her mound then whispered in her ear, "You like how that feels, don't you?" He paused, "Mmmmmmmm, you're panties are soaked. You're wet, aren't you?"

Jessica was feeling sensations she had never felt before from a man, though she had touched herself many times. She could not believe she was letting a stranger touch her like this or talk to her so boldly. She knew she should stop him, scream, do something but Vincent was arousing something in her that she had thought about but had never experienced. She had never been with anyone like him. He was from another world, the street, bars, motorcycles, while she lived in the ivory tower of science and now he was invading her safe world with his hands and his dirty words.

Vincent moved his fingers inside her panties and played with the wet lips of her pussy. He moved up and down her slit causing Jessica to lift her self towards his probing hand. "You're a hot little slut," he said. "You want me to fuck you," he said.

"Oh God," Jessica moaned, as Vincent's fingers entered her wet pussy. She knew she should stop this. How could she let a stranger do this to her, talk to her like that? She wanted to push his hand away but the sensation of his fingers in her was making her want more. 

"You think you're a good girl but you want to be bad and dirty with me, don't you?" he whispered in her ear. He put another finger in her pussy and found her clit causing her to shudder and gasp, "Ohhhhh!"

"You want to tell me to stop, but you like this too much. You want it bad, don't you?" He moved his fingers in and out, fucking her with his hand. 

Jessica lifted herself off the stool wanting his fingers in deeper. She pushed upward against his probing fingers. She had never experienced sensations like this. She opened her eyes and looked at Vincent who was looking back at her with a devilish smile on his face. 

"Your brain is telling you this is wrong, but your body likes what I'm doing," Vincent said. "Tell me to stop, and I will or... tell me you want more."

Jessica kept her eyes on Vincent's face. His smile, the intensity of his eyes, the probing of his fingers going in and out of her made it impossible for her to speak. He then pulled his fingers out, grabbed her panties and pulled them down her legs. "I'll stop if you want me to," he said. "You can go back to your microscope and I'll go back to my mopping," he said. 

This was her chance to stop Vincent. Her skirt was high on her thighs. Her legs were extended as he pulled her panties down over her ankles. She could kick him away and run out of the lab. She could stop him. He was giving her the chance to give in to her desires or go back to her responsibilities and experiment. "What am I doing?" she thought to herself, unable to stop Vincent.

Once her panties were off, Vincent unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He wasn't wearing underwear and his bulging cock was now released and stood straight out. Jessica had never seen an erection before and could not take her eyes off Vincent's huge cock. Vincent then spread her legs apart and moved between them bringing the tip of his cock to the entrance of her pussy. Jessica's mouth was wide open, wanting to shout for him to stop, to go away, but the sight of his cock between her open legs made her speechless. She was experiencing feelings she had never had before. Her pussy was dripping. He rubbed his cock gently against her entrance, spreading her legs wide open moving his cock up and down. Jessica looked down at what he was doing. The sight of his cock at the entrance of her pussy, her legs wide open, the sensation was tantalizing her. He was playing with her, teasing her, inching his cock a little deeper with each swipe of her pussy lips. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "You like this, don't you? You want it in you?"

Jessica's eyes were closed, biting her lips and concentrating on the sensation she was feeling. She knew she should tell him to stop, to go back to work, but now she only wanted more of what he was doing to her. She was panting, moaning, his words and hot breath on her ears, his cock going deeper into her was driving her crazy. 

"You're a virgin and you want me to fuck you, don't you?" he whispered, then licked her ear with his tongue. 

Jessica couldn't speak, but was lifting herself off the stool, wanting more of what she was feeling, wanting more of his cock in her.

"You want it bad, don't you?" Vincent whispered. "Beg me to fuck you," he said. 

Jessica was desperate for more of his cock. She was lifting herself forward, but she had never used these words. Vincent was teasing her, taking her into another world. 

"Such a good little girl wanting to be bad," he said, grabbing her ass. "Come on Miss good little girl," he said, roughly pulling her forward by the ass, his cock going deeper in her. 

Suddenly, he thrust his cock into her causing Jessica to scream, "Oh my god." She felt the sharp pain as his cock broke through her hymen and then the pain receded and the pleasure of his cock took over causing her to moan and hold back a scream but it burst out, "Ohhhhh god!" 

Just then, Vincent pulled his cock out of her and Jessica gasped, "No!"

"No, what?" Vincent asked, looking at her with a devilish smile. 

"Don't stop," she said.

"Don't stop what," he said, "What do you want?" he asked, holding his cock at her entrance. "Tell me what I should stop doing," he said, teasing her with his cock, moving it up and down her pussy lips.

Jessica's mouth was open but she couldn't speak. She was breathing heavily. She looked down at the cock against her wet pussy, watching his cock tease her, when suddenly, she reached out and grabbed Vincent's ass with both hands and pulled him into her.




The Stranger Ch. 03



The little silicone ball slid easily Shelly's slick anus. The sleeping girl shifted a little at the intrusion but did not seem to wake. Not that it would have mattered--she was his slave and would not have protested had she awoken. The stranger smiled at this thought, and pushed the second bead into her ass.

This bead was slightly larger, the ridges more pronounced. Though it still slid in easily, he could feel a little more resistance than the last. He tugged gently on the strand that hung from Shelly's anus, but it did not slide out. Her asshole was nice and tight.

Fresh juice was beginning to leak from Shelly's pussy. Even if she was not conscious of it, the intrusion into her anal cavity was turning her on. He placed a finger at her slick entrance and scooped a little of the viscous fluid out, brought it up to his mouth, sucked it off his finger. Her pussy was delicious.

He turned his attention back to her other hole. The next bead was a little larger, maybe an inch in diameter, and had little spikes all over it. He pushed it against her anus, forcing the other two balls deeper into her ass. Shelly moaned and unconsciously pushed her ass back against the ball. Her hungry little asshole swallowed it, spikes and all. She now had a good five inches of silicone in her ass, but there was another eight or so to go. 

The next ball was perhaps an inch and a quarter wide and covered in deep ridges. He coaxed this one into her anus, but did not push it all the way in. Rather, he stopped halfway so that her sphincter remained propped open around the widest part of the bead. It twitched and convulsed, but he held the bead there, not allowing it to slip in or out. Then he turned on the vibrator.

Shelly immediately stirred. "Oh god," she moaned, feeling every inch of silicone vibrating inside her ass. "Oh god, what is that?"

The stranger held up the end of the vibrating anal beads that wasn't buried inside her. "Just a little toy I brought. I hope you like it."

"Oh god," was all Shelly could say. Her pussy was leaking faster now, her juices actually drooling down onto the bed between her thighs. 

The stranger let go of the strand and her asshole sucked the fourth ball inside, spasming a little as it clamped down around the thin silicone strand. Shelly moaned louder.

"Good girl," he said appreciatively. "Now shake that ass."

Shelly looked at him in the mirror, confused.

"I said shake it," he ordered sternly. "Shake that fine little ass like the whore you are."

Shelly obeyed as best she could with the restraints holding her thighs in place. The motion of her hips caused the string of beads to flop around, bouncing off her generous asscheeks and slapping her pussy. It also caused the beads to tug at her anus, stretching it open and sending intense vibrations through the tender hole. When the fourth bead had almost worked its way back out, he commanded her to stop. Then he pushed the rest of the bead back in, followed by the next one.

Shelly squealed. This one was larger, the spikes even more pronounced. The pleasure was intense, but so was the feeling that she was going to have to relieve herself, and quickly. She pulled back from the intrustion, but she could only move so far. He forced her anus to swallow the larger ball, though he had to be rather forceful with this one.

The remaining balls were much larger. Shelly could see them in the mirror, especially the last one. It was almost the side of her fist. 

"One more, little girl," he instructed her, "and then we'll give that fine little ass a break."

Shelly nodded, her eyes wide, watching as the stranger applied another dollop of lube to the fat ball of silicone. He pushed it against her tight anal ring. It widened slowly, reluctantly. Shelly could feel every ridge, every bump, as they rubbed deliciously against her hole, spreading her, opening her up. The stranger leaned forward and ran his tongue along the stretched ring of Shelly's sphincter, jiggling the ball up and down as he did. This had the intended effect--Shelly began moaning and humping his tongue. Juices drooled from her fleshy pussylips onto the bed.

At last he could wait no longer. He pushed the bead hard into Shelly's ass. She let out a gasp of pain as the widest part slipped inside her, then of pleasure as her hole was allowed to close again. With every twitch of her closing sphincter, Shelly let out a little gasp.

"Good girl, good girl," the stranger praised her before attacking her hard clit with his tongue. As he licked her, he brought the end of the strand of beads up to her pussy and slipped the vibrator (just a bullet inside a waterproof sleeve) into her wet hole, then began to push the last and largest ball in after it. Shelly moaned at first, then began to beg.

"No, no, no, no," she gasped wildly. "It's too big, I can't take it!"

"It's going in one of your holes, little girl," the stranger moaned against her twat. "You better hope it fits in this one."

Shelly quickly subsided at this threat. Whimpering, she watched in the mirror as once more he began to push the ball into her pussy. It was so wet with juice that he didn't need to use lube until the widest part of the ball was nestled between those fat lips. Shelly was breathing hard and whimpering, but he could tell she was enjoying the abuse. He squirted lube on the ball, then spread her lips and squirted it all over her cunt. Then he pushed the ball in just a little, then pulled it back out. He did this again and again, each time coaxing the fat ball a little further, until he knew she could take it. Then he clamped his mouth over her twitching clit, sucking hard, and forced the ball into Shelly's twat.

Shelly cried out in pain (and yes, pleasure) as the pretty blue bead disappeared inside her, filling her like a fist. Her stretched pussy gaped open for a few moments, then closed reluctantly around the silicone strand. Now both of her holes were filled, the remaining balls suspended in a stiff arc behind her, connecting her pussy and asshole. They continued to vibrate, sending sensations deep inside her. With the stranger's lips still clamped around her clit, it did not take long before she was hit by a violent orgasm that Shelly could not have prevented if she'd tried. She screamed helplessly as her pussy and ass contracted and spasmed again and again, until at last he took his mouth off her clit.

But the silicone beads continued to vibrate, and Shelly knew somewhere inside the cloud of her post-orgasmic daze that they would continue to do so until the monstrous object inside her twat was removed.

She looked up to see the stranger's reflection smiling down at her.



The Stranger Ch. 03



"Fuck me!" she screamed. "Fuck me, you bastard!" She had never said words like that before. 'FUCK ME!" she yelled. 

"That's what I wanted to hear," Vincent said, grabbing her by the ass, picking her up off the stool, lowering her to the floor, spreading her legs and ramming his cock into her.

Jessica screamed, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." 

=============

Suddenly, I stopped reading and looked over at Tristan sitting across from me. I only had my flannel shirt on. He was leaning back in the chair, sitting with his legs extended—his cock bulging in his unbuttoned jeans, the zipper half down. I stared at his bulge. I can't believe how that story got to me, what it awoke. 

"Are you going to stop there?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, putting the story down on the table. I looked into his eyes and said, "I want to be bad!" 

"You do," he said. 

"Yes. I'm like Jessica and until today when we met, I never let myself go, except in my stories. I was always the good girl who did what I was supposed to, except one time when I met this guy and had an affair, got pregnant and he took off." She paused. "I am little miss responsibility—always busy keeping this place together, working and writing."

"And now," he asked.

"Now, I want to be bad. I want to get out of my imagination and be wild. I want to be bad. I want to be bad with you. I want to say things and do things I've been afraid to say and do."

"Even more than we've already done," he said. "We've been pretty wild. I practically raped you this afternoon," he added.  

"I want to be bad," I said. "I want to be a slut! I want to give you a blow job. I want you to eat me. I want 69. I want you to you fuck my ass."

Suddenly, I took off my flannel shirt and leaned back in the chair. I was so horny. I grabbed my tits and rubbed them, pinching and twisting my nipples. I unzipped my jeans and squeezed my hand in, spreading my legs, extending them towards him. Looking into his eyes, I placed my hand on my mound and started rubbing myself. The seam of my jeans pressed against my fingers. I closed my eyes as I moved my fingers in and out of my dripping pussy, the pleasure I was giving myself was so intense, I was close to cummming. 

"Ohhhhhhgod! I'm so horny, I can't stand it. I want you to fuck me hard. I want it raunchy and rough," I said. I was letting go and didn't care. I felt safe with Tristan and knew he would give me what I wanted. 

I loved how he was watching me play with myself. He unzipped his jeans and was holding his hard cock in his hand and started stroking it, moving his hand up and down. I was going out of my mind pinching my nipples and rubbing my pussy while he rubbed his bulging cock.

I was breathing and moaning, whimpering as I rubbed myself. 

Suddenly, he stood, took his jeans off and grabbed my hand, pulling me to him. We grabbed each other by the ass and started grinding our crotches hard against each other. My tits were crushed against his chest, grunting and moaning sounds came from our mouths. I then arched my back and pressed my jean covered pussy against his cock and started sliding my pussy lips up and down the length of his hot pole. We were out of our minds with lust. I then wiggled out of my jeans while he pulled his off. We then grabbed each other again and continued grinding against each other, my wet, slippery pussy sliding up and down the length of his cock, pressing against my clit. "Ohhhhhbaby this feels so good" I said. 

Suddenly, I could stand it any longer. I grabbed his hands and pulled him over to the couch against the wall. I lay down and put one leg on the back of the couch, the other on the floor, my pussy completely open. He got on the couch between my wide open legs, and thrust his cock deep into my pussy, causing me to gasp with the power and fullness. We were wild fucking animals. "FUCK ME," I screamed. 

"Take my cock," he yelled, slamming deep into my pussy.

"Fuck me harder. Harder!" I yelled. 

We were moaning and groaning, grunting and screaming at each other. He was on his knees, my legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper into me. I had never fucked so hard in my life. He was a wild man driving me insane!"

"Give it to me hard. Harder! Harder! Oh God, I love how you're fucking me." 

Suddenly, I got my hands on his chest and pushed him off of me and on to his back. I climbed on top, turned so that my ass was at his mouth and said, "I want you to eat me. I want to suck your cock." 

It was as if I wanted to say and do everything I had never said or done before. His tongue was moving up and down my pussy, his hands squeezing my ass, while I devoured his cock, my mouth going up and down, making hungry slurping sounds. His tongue was licking my pussy, lapping up my juices. He then found my clit. My pussy was on fire and every lick of his tongue on my clit took me closer to exploding. I licked his cock like it was an ice cream cone, my tongue moving along the length of his cock and then I devoured it again, swallowing and bobbing my wet mouth up and down faster and faster. He put his finger in my ass causing me to scream, "Fuck my ass with your finger." He went deeper. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhmygod" I screamed. "Eat me! Eat me! Eat my pussy!" 

I was out of my mind as his mouth and tongue sucked and licked my clit and he fucked my ass with his finger driving me over the edge. My whole body shuddered and shook just as a huge orgasm was building, but he suddenly stopped and I screamed, "Oh, no, no, no! Don't stop! Please!" I was delirious. 

He then pushed me off of him and said, "Get on your knees and lean over the arm of the couch." 

I got on my knees and crawled to the arm and leaned over it, my hands flat on the floor, my head and hair hanging, making me light headed, my ass and pussy completely open to him taking me. 

He moved the tip of his cock up and down my pussy-- "Where do you want it—your ass or cunt?" 

"I don't fucking care. Just fuck me, now," I screamed.

I was so horny and on the verge of cumming, I just needed his cock. He then rammed in to my dripping pussy, "OHHHHHHHHHHHYES FUCK ME!" I screamed as a huge orgasm swept over me. He kept fucking me, his thrusts going deep into me again and again and another orgasm ripped through me. 

"Oh I'm cummmming," he screamed, but then suddenly pulled out, wanting our fucking each other to last longer. 

He then roughly pulled me up and lay me on my back on the couch. He was sitting on his heels, his cock straight up. He turned me and got me to sit on his cock, facing away from him. I was riding his hard cock, leaning against his chest. He held my tits as I started to ride him, going up and coming down hard on cock. He then put one hand on my pussy, pressing and rubbing my clit with the palm of his hand. I had never felt anything so intense as I rose up and came down on his cock and suddenly, I felt my whole body shudder again as wave after wave of my orgasm swept over me. "Ohhhhhhhhhh this is so fucking hot," I screamed. "I'm cummmmmmmmmmmming." 

I felt his cock swelling in me as he lifted me and brought me down hard on his cock, yelling "Fuck me! Fuck me! I'm cummmmmming!" 

We both exploded at the same time and then I fell forward and he collapsed on my back. We were gasping and panting, unable to budge. Neither of us could speak. I thought I would pass out but slowly recovered. I had never experienced anything like that—it was more than a fantasy come true.

"Thanks for being bad with me." I said. "I loved it." I was breathing heavily.

"Me, too," he said."I never knew being bad could be so much fun."

He then rolled off of me and onto his side and turned me so that we were spooning. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I loved the warmth of his body and his arms. 

"So mister. What are you going to do—go home to your responsibilities, or stay with me and fool around?"

"Are you giving me an offer I can't refuse," he asked. 

"Yes," I said, turning my head and looking into his eyes, smiling. "I want us to be fuck buddies until we can't stand it anymore." I paused as he looked into my eyes. "You don't get offers like that every day, buddy."

"I know," he said. "I'm still trying to make sense of what is happening. And I will have to go back home at some point." 

"Home is where the heart is," I said, smiling.

He smiled back and said, "I guess I'll make myself at home and take one day at a time." And that's what he did. We had time to talk and get to know more about each other and of course, we fucked a lot. 

A few days later, he took off to go back to his place and invited me to come visit him. The following weekend, I arrived at his cabin in the woods and stayed for a few days then a week later, he came back to my place and stayed for five days. And that became our routine. We both love our privacy, space and independence. We love each other deeply and found that this was a perfect way to have a relationship without compromising our individuality. It's been four years since the stranger came into that café and our lives suddenly changed. Maybe one day, we will share one place, but for now, it couldn't be better.