1 comments/ 11526 views/ 1 favorites The Kindness of Stranger By: VFucci You: shall we begin? Stranger: Go right ahead hun. You: all right You: i'm just sitting here, baby. no shirt, no shoes, nothing but boxers. my fly's open. You: come over here Stranger: I slowly walk over to you with a playful grin, wearing nothing but a black thong. You: mmm yeah You: so hot, baby You: bring me that sexy ass Stranger: I get a bit closer to you as I turn and bend forward a little, showing my ass off to you. You: mmmm You: i stand and approach you You: caressing your ass You: i lift my hand and give your ass a little smack Stranger: I giggle and grin, gazing back at you as I wiggle my firm ass playfully at you. You: :) You: i put both hands on your ass, kneading the flesh You: i spank you again, harder this time Stranger: Mmmmm... You: i hook my fingers under the top of your thong and slide it down as i drop to my knees You: your thong is around your ankles. i massage your ass cheeks again, smacking them and watching them tremble You: and then i spread them apart Stranger: I grin as I watch with lustful eyes, letting out a soft moan. You: do you want me to eat your pussy? Stranger: Mmmm, go right ahead sexy. You: yeah You: say please, babe Stranger: Mmm, please, eat my pussy. You: oh yes . . . i lean in, pulling your ass cheeks apart, and clamp my lips over your wetness You: i suck on the flesh of your pussy, pulling the lips into my mouth, flicking my tongue up to tease your clit You: i slide one finger in You: now two Stranger: I gasp and moan as I shiver, feeling your fingers penetrating my pussy and your tongue over my clit. Stranger: Ohhhh..! You: my tongue swirls around your clit You: even circles, fast and intense You: my fingers twitch inside You: pushing to your G spot Stranger: I moan out deeply, my body shivering with pleasure, feeling your fingers inside me pushing my G spot and your tongue swirling around my clit. Stranger: Ahhhhh, so good! You: yes, baby You: mmm You: and now i drag my tongue up You: my fingers still massaging your g spot You: i lick a wet trail up You: between your assk cheeks You: and start to tease the edges of your asshole You: do you like that? Stranger: Ohhhh! Yes! You: my tongue dances around your asshole You: never touching it directly Stranger: My body shivers more as I moan lustfully, feeling your wet tongue around my asshole, tensing up slightly. You: now I'm fully licking your hole as i fingerfuck you You: i want you to cum, baby. i want to feel you cum with my tongue in your ass. i push deeper, rolling my fingertips over your g-spot. You: when you cum for me, i'll let you suck my cock. do you want that? Stranger: Ohhhhhhh.... Yes I do sexy... You: sit on my face. feel the tip of my tongue lashing your asshole and my fingers twisting in your pussy You: fuck my face You: cum for me Stranger: I obey right away, sitting on your face as I feel your wet tongue inside my asshole, my body shivering more while I moan louder, feeling your fingers work deep in my pussy. I wiggle and bounce myself a bit as you work both of my holes, finally screaming out in lust as I orgasm, my cum spilling out from my pussy all over. You: oh god yes You: that's right You: i'm so hard now . . . You: my balls are swollen You: i slide out from under you and get to my feet You: you've been a good girl. and now you get a prize Stranger: Mmmm, may I suck you now, sexy? You: oh, yes. you may suck me now. Stranger: I grin as I kneel before you, staring at your hard thick cock before wrapping my hand around your base and leaning in, starting off by swirling my tongue teasingly around your head, then taking it into my mouth and sealing my lips around it, sucking softly while swirling my tongue around it more. You: MMmmmmmhhhh You: ah god Stranger: I slowly start to sink myself down on your thick rod, keeping my tongue pressed tight agains the bottom, sucking on it a little more. You: i moan and run my hands through your hair, watching you You: you're such a good little cocksucker Stranger: I move my hand from your cock base as I sink down even further, taking all of your length in slowly, sucking harder the further I go down on you. My hands grip your thighs gently and massage them as I suck you off, now having your full length in my mouth, sucking hard and deep. You: you're so good . . . You: oh fuck. i start to rock me hips forward lightly You: rocking my hips in time with your sucking Stranger: I slowly start to bob along your length, keeping my rhythm with your rocking hips, sucking even harder how, my hands gripping your thighs tighter. You: uhhhh You: suck my dick, baby You: that's right. you want my cum, don't you? Stranger: I pick up my rhythm and bob faster along your dick, sucking on it as hard as I can, my hands massaging your thighs deeply. You: i want to give you this cum so badly. but . . . You: oh You: not yet, baby You: i've just got to fuck you. You: and then i will give you all the cum you need Stranger: I slowly pull off and grin as I gaze up at you with lustful eyes, giving your head one last swirl with my tongue. Stranger: How will you have me then, sexy? You: i'll take you from behind. You: i pick up your thong and roll it up You: i'll bind your hands behind you with this You: i walk around behind you and push you forward gently so you're on your hands and knees You: i tie your arms behind you with the thong knotted around your wrists You: and i take your pussy with one thrust. my dick sinks to the base. Stranger: I gasp and moan deeply as you thrust deep into me, my body shivering all over. You: i'm holding your hands, which are tied behind your back, pulling you into me as i fuck you. i lean over you, my chin above your shoulder. i'm groaning as your tight cunt squeezes my cock, and i gently press my teeth into your flesh You: driving deep into you, cock swelling Stranger: Ohhhhhh!!! Yeah!! You: yes . . . yes Stranger: I moan loudly and squirm with pleasure as you deeply fuck my warm wet pussy, pulling me tight with my tied hands, my flesh tingling where your teeth sink in. Stranger: Ohhhh, God!! Stranger: Talk dirty to me sexy... You: oh yeah. you like my cock? You: you like this fat cock punishing your cunt You: making you my bitch Stranger: Ahhhh!! Yess!! Yeah!! Ahhhhhh!! You: oh god! oh, there's more, baby! there's more of this cock for you! You: in one motion, i slip my cock from your pussy You: and push it into your ass You: one hand pulls your arms back, the other is blindly groping your swinging tits You: i fill your ass in three strokes Stranger: Ahhhhhh!!!! God YES!!! You: biting your back You: fuck my big cock, bitch! push that ass down on my fat dick! You: Aaahhhh!!! You: don't stop. don't fucking stop! take my fucking cock up your ass!! Stranger: I scream and moan in deep pleasure, pushing my tight ass hard against your thick cock, taking it all it and squirming. You: now i release your arms at last, and my free hand slips between your legs to furiously massage your pussy You: come on. who's my little slut? Stranger: My body convulses all over with pleasure as I keep moaning and screaming with lust, feeling you work over me more. Stranger: Ohhhhh!!!! I am!! Ohhhh GOD!!! You: Yess yessss yesssss You: i'm going to cum baby You: i'm going to give you so much cum You: kneel in front me Stranger: I obey right away, moaning deeply as I kneel before you. You: i'm jerking my dick in front of you You: pumping my fist furiously You: now it's time to give you what you've worked so hard for You: uhhh . . . please, tell me where to cum, baby Stranger: Right on my face, sexy... You: God!! Damn! You: my cum arches over you. it hits your face in streams that criss cross each other You: i direct the rest at your tits You: fuck Stranger: I grin and moan as your hot cum covers my face and tits, leaning into your streams. You: i'm panting, pursing my lips, my knees shaking as the last drops of cum fall You: and then i simply can't stand up anymore. i drop into a sitting position and offer you a towel You: ha ha shit. wow. Stranger: I giggle and take the towel as I pant softly, wiping up the cum over me while also getting a taste of it. The Kindness Of Strangers Cold. The dark cavern in which Maiselle crawled was ghastly cold. Periodically a gust of freezing air would rush into the myriad barred niches, having drawn the eternal damp from the cavern's rock walls along the mile that it had to traverse from outside to the darkest vaults of the cave. The outside...she let out a screeching sound, much like that of nails raked along a blackboard. It was immediately followed by other sounds: howls, bellows, panicked screams from the women who had only recently come here, all of them bouncing off the cavern walls, a cacophony of echoes that no one but the prisoners would hear. She coughed and convulsed, doubled over in her misery. She rubbed her forehead on the uncaring stone floor, and saw her yellowed skin be grinded to dust by her movement. The pain did not register. It had ceased doing so a long time ago. She had guttered out like a candle, a blossom fallen onto a stream of lava. Maiselle was no more: Maiselle only lived on in her memory, and on the rare occasions that he paid her a visit. "An angel of mercy descended upon us decadent demons of the aristocracy", he said with only the barest hint of sarcasm in his warm voice. Maiselle had heard worse compliments in her time, yet it would take more than a hasty piece of adoration to impress her. Most men expected the ladies of the court to blanche upon being looked at in a lewd fashion (as was often the case when Maiselle frequented salons and ballrooms), but the man lacked that hungry look in his eyes. At least until now. Maiselle took a deep breath and folded her arms under her bosom, making their soft flesh rise to even grander proportions, taking a candid pleasure out of the flash of mulled pain as her corset dug deeper into her skin. She tore at the lacy boundaries of etiquette, as much as her looks constantly taunted the height of fashion. Where all of the other ladies at court were thin and waif-like, Maiselle maintained the buxom features of a commoner, with enough tell-tale hints of sultriness to confirm this. She also had no need to exaggerate the size of her bosom like the other women: the Lord had blessed her with firm breasts that were a bit too heavy for her height, yet she loved the dramatic effect of the corset. All the more for how a tight waist would further highlight her wide hips, which she wore proudly. Propriety be damned, Maiselle knew what all men wanted, regardless of what colour her blood was. She shook her brown curls out of her face and locked the stranger's eyes with her own, piercing jade daring dark brown to come up with another fruitless attempt to get some tail. He had a somewhat cultivated ruggedness to him. Only the slightest shade of beard growth stood on his square, powerful jaw, a single deep groove cut into the swarthy skin of his forehead, with his own thick brown hair tied back with a grey ribbon. She also noticed that the lace that came from underneath his grey and jacket was slightly yellowed, which took away some of the beauty displayed by the rich black embroidery that festooned his jacket and breeches. The man merely leaned back against the wall, looking around the ballroom where some of the other guests were already taking in interest in what Maiselle what do to him, the poor fellow. They had already seen it happen too often, and most women, and some of the men, had grown to hate her for it. Maiselle had a reputation, and stories about her hard-to-get behaviour were rife. She would have turned down the steward of the king, commenting wryly afterward that he was "inadequate, even after my tender administrations". The poor man had killed himself a week later, having flung himself into the river Seine. She was rumoured to visit skid row, taking on multiple men at once, and that she would demand to eat all of their seed so that she could go on all night. Of course she had added to these rumours herself in the past, discussing the merits of sodomy where this was not de rigeur, for example. Whether or not this man was familiar with all of these stories, she could not see. He disregarded her show of annoyance and smiled, rather beautifully. "It seems that a great score of people present here tonight desire to be in your presence, mademoiselle" he said dryly. Maiselle snorted and flashed a feline smile of her own." I like to think most of them would love to be in my presence, but refrain from doing so for fear of being tainted by whatever disease they think I might have", she proffered. "Are you afraid of the taint, monsieur...?" The man only gave a curt nod, eschewing the hand-kissing and all of the other sickening rules of propriety. A quaint diversion, she thought to herself. "I am the Comte du Froid, mademoiselle Maiselle. And honoured and not afraid to be tainted by your presence, if I may add such a forward comment." She laughed, delighted at the subtle wit which seemed to sneak into every word the Count uttered. She offered him her hand, nails lacquered ruby-red. "The pleasure is mutual, Comte. Perhaps we can taint the entire assembly this evening. It would take some of the weight off my shoulders." She curtsied as he leant down to kiss her hands, as etiquette commands. But the feeling Maiselle got was far from proper. As the count's lips fell upon her hand, she felt her skin prickling and she got aroused. It wasn't even the common tingle she would get before she allowed a brusque labourer to feel her up, let alone the feeble fluttering of love's butterfly wings. It was pure lust, a wanton feeling that made her swallow a whimper and heated the inside of her thighs below the deep blue silk and pristine white lace of her dress. It took her some moments to compose her thoughts (and even more so, her yearnings) before she realised the man had withdrawn from her hand, his face full of worry. "Is something the matter, mademoiselle?" His voice was an animalistic rumble in her ear, and it took all her energy to stop from swooning when his hand fell on her shoulder, fingertips blessing her collarbone with the barest of touches. A plethora of possible answers came to mind, yet she chose the most obvious one, even as she saw little flecks of white light appear at the edge of her vision. "I've been standing in one place for far too long. Would you entreat me to a dance, comte?" It seemed like lucidity had come back after hours and hours spent in a trance, but only moments could have passed as she and the count were standing opposite each other on the marble floor, bowing to one another as the first chord of the lithe violins struck, heralding the start of the dance. Maiselle straightened herself and held her hand aloft, just above her face as it was met by the count's strong, warm hand. She clasped it firmly, her hand slippery from perspiration as her senses went completely haywire at the touch of this man. They circled each other, the count's strong calves flexing with each step. Maiselle tried to maintain her aloof poise, still beaming up at him with cold diffidence, but she felt her stature crumble with each moment that crept by, and felt that her craving was on the rise. His eyes held no malice, no scorn, just a heartfelt joy at the dance, the corners of his luscious mouth curled up in a polite smile. Everyone present had the ball had turned to stare at them, and even the chamber orchestra had torn their eyes off their instruments to gaze upon dancing couple. Comte du Froid took a step forward, his body touching Maiselle's, and she could see his strong arms pushing against their velvet sleeves and feel the heat from his chest flow into hers. She felt all strength ebb out of her body, and with a soft moan she let her body give in, her arms going limp and loosing her footing. But the count anticipated and she was held upright by a caress as soothing the a summer sun, and as he let his hands run from her shoulders along to her arms, she felt her strength surging back inside of her. Her feet stood firmly on the floor, and her hands were holding his, staring bewildered in the count's eyes. When the orchestra stopped playing, followed by an uneasy applause of the assembled blue bloods, the pair was already stepping out of the palace and into the moonlit gardens, Maiselle's curls falling onto the count's shoulders as he led her away from the decadent devils to the heaven she deserved. Cold. One of the last sensations she could still feel clearly, apart from pain. They both were endless. She lay with her back on the ground, feeling the cold seep into her very bones. And into her bones it went, for a soft crack made it clear to Maiselle that her dress had rotted further, and her exposed skin and dried flesh fell prey to the harsh cold, feeling the glacial bane strike at her ribcage, shooting up the centre of her spine. Such a waste. That dress had cost her dearly. Sunken eyes gazed down at the tatters covering her spindly legs, and bones that once could have been called fingers hitched up the mildewed fabric. The bones ran along husks of thighs, the skin flaking and peeling off under the charnel caresses. A rasping chortle passed Maiselle's rotting lips. "I'll come with you. I will." Few words were exchanged as they hurried out of the gardens and toward the grasslands and hills ahead. The cool night air seemed to return Maiselle to her senses, and it was only now that she saw that the count was rather flustered as well. She pressed herself closer against him, kissed him behind his ear. "Are you going to sweep me off my feet and carry me to your castle, my precious upstarts count?" she breathed in his ear. His breath quickened at the kiss and he moved his right hand from her side down to her bottom, grunting as held his hand there. Again Maiselle felt her insides grow weak, what unknown pleasures was this man sparking deep inside of her? The count remained silent, yet he urged her on, further out into the wild. He spoke to her as the walked, told her things about lost loves, an emptiness that he needed to fill, had no choice but to keep filling that void, and it rained silently upon them. Maiselle took in his every word, her mind clouded, seeing nothing but his mouth speaking softly, hearing nothing but the need in his voice, feeling nothing but his body pressed against hers as they braved the beginnings of a storm. And seemingly without drawing breath, she told him of her little needs and candid pleasures. How she refused to surrender herself to an uncouth man, how she preferred to be in control all the time, but would never be satisfied with a meek man she could kick around like a lapdog, she wanted something. But what she needed had always proven to be elusive. Still, as the rain poured down, her dress caked with mud and the outline of her breasts showing through it, it came to her that she may have found it this evening. The count's hair clung to his face, but he still guided her strongly as they found refuge in a cave. Maiselle had not even noticed how du Froid had marched through the rain and to this place with grim determination. But how could she: she had willingly become the count's guest, swept away from her castle by the dark prince. The count gritted his teeth as he got a fire going inside of the cave. Maiselle was looking down on him, saw his muscles clearly defined under his sodden clothes. She reached behind her back and tore loose the entrapping of her corset with a growl. This startled du Froid who got up and turned around. He was greeted by Maiselle, rubbing the flesh of her pendulous breasts, the rain trickling between her fingers. He could smell her craving, it was almost as if it made the around between them tremble. He held out his hands, taking one step closer to her, but Maiselle saw reluctance in his eyes. She ran her fingertips over her nipples, making them bud and flourish in the cold of the cave. "Don't hesitate. I want for this to happen." Her voice was low and husky. She saw the count swallow and squint his eyes, as if fighting back tears. "You have no idea..." he mumbled. Then she stepped closer to him, pressing her naked breasts against him and planting a kiss on his full mouth. Outside lightning flashed, but the thunder came from du Froid's throat as he surrendered his tongue to Maiselle. He felt so warm to her, and she kissed him harder, clawing at his back and breathing heavily. Instantly she felt her arousal become manifest between her legs once more, and had to break free from the kiss as the count let his fingers fall directly onto her folds, parting them and playing with her clit. She arched her back; the count's lips fell between her breasts, exploring them tenderly as his fingers drove her to insanity. She moaned unabashedly, grinding against his fingers, burying his face between her bosom. Her mind felt soft and mushy as waves of pleasure drowned out all of her cares and thoughts. "Oui, monsieur le comte, feast on me"she purred, rubbing the palm of her hand against du Froid's bulge, which he promptly slapped away. She opened her eyes groggily, looking at her dark prince, and saw him leering at her. A jab of pain made her cry out, and she felt a warm flow mingle with her most sanctified juices between her legs. The count brought his hand up, and as she felt her pussy throb with pain, he licked the blood off his fingertips. His breath was stocky; he tried to form words but could not find the air to utter them. In a flash, Maiselle was brought down to her knees gruffly, the rocks digging into her knees. A hand took hold of her hair, yanking her head up. She stared at the count, his grin splitting his face in half, dark eyes roiling with some bestial rage. With his other hand he pulled his thick manhood out of his breeches. It throbbed in front of Maiselle, the flickering of the flames playing upon his shiny purple head. Her dark prince said something which she did not hear and she could not reply. He thrust his hardness into her mouth, the shaft rubbing along her lips roughly until it slid down her throat. She could not help but gag, saliva and bile pooling out of the corners of her mouth as her eyes started to tear, tear from the strain of the count's cock and from the utter desolation she felt. All of her dreams shattered. Maiselle coughed and dry-heaved as du Froid pulled his shaft out of her throat, staring at him with utter horror. He cupped her chin in his hand. He wheezed, veins bulging on his temples and hands. The veins were black. "I am so hungry for your juices Maiselle, you have no idea...I long for an angel of mercy" the count spat her with the voice of a monster, rife with sarcasm. He pulled Maiselle of the floor by her ears and kissed her hard, his tongue snaking into her mouth. With a screeching scream Maiselle bit down on his tongue and she could taste she had drawn blood. The count withdrew and roared, then flung her aside like a rag doll, making her slam against the cave wall. Then darkness overtook her. A great fire danced in front of her. Beautiful flames danced around, circled each other, as if at a ball. The fire licked her. The heat pleasured her. She blinked and tried to caress the fire licking her between her legs, but drew back her hand, wincing. The fire had bit her. She tried to focus her eyes, trying to distinguish the roaring pyre in the background from that between her legs. And saw the count licking along the edges of her folds. Her head lolled a bit, and she tried to find the strength to scream. Pitch black eyes gazed at her, angry eyes. The tip of the count's tongue passed his lips, landed on Maiselle's most precious part, making her tremble with lust. He grinned as he licked her, hands with black nails grabbing her thighs. He drew breath and something shot deep inside of Maiselle, darting against her womb. She gasped for air and lifter her back off the rocky floor, but had to fall back. Pain shot through her body as the tongue pried loose all of her juices, making her pussy throb. The count's hands ran up her body, massaged her breasts. She purred, not sure what had happened, but how she loved his special tongue. She tried to place her hand on his head, but it was slapped away again. He bit her, there where it hurt the most. Despite the pain she pushed harder against his mouth, adoring that tongue, loving it, loving it... Then she felt him suck on her and she snapped back to the here and now. No words could explain what this felt like. She felt her body go limp and her pulse rage. Le comte squeezed her nipples hard and she saw white droplets forming on them as she felt weaker and weaker. A sucking sound came from her folds as the count withdrew his tongue. He straightened himself, the fire blazing up behind him. Wails suddenly came from everywhere, and Maiselle saw other women, horrendously looking women. Their skin looked like parchment, their bodies emaciated, hair fallen out. Then count yelled at them, telling them to shut up, then turned his full attention back to Maiselle. She could see every vein in his body bulge just under his skin, black as coal. He rubbed his hardness against her folds, which was still immensely wet. She could not help it. I have fallen for a decadent demon. When he thrust inside of her, Maiselle could not move a muscle. The count thrusted slow and hard, making her body shake, but she could not do anything against it. With each thrust, she felt her body be drained, and the count moaned harder, breath rasping, veins throbbing on his temples. His shaft filled her completely (perfectly), and she closed her eyes as pleasure seemed to replace her vitality. The other women cried out, seemed to bemoan her. "Give it to us Comte, we deserve it more, we have served you!" they stammered, but he did not hear it. His tongue uncoiled from his mouth, licking at Maiselle's nipples as he dug his nails into her sides, drawing blood as he lifted her off the ground. Somehow she felt the strength to moan, to moan at du Froid's cock hammering at her, pleasing her, killing her. Milk seeped from her nipple, lapped up by the count's serpentine tongue. His thrusts became faster, more shallow, and as Maiselle closed her eyes and laid back she felt his seed spurt deep inside of her, and then the quiet time descended upon the cave. Maiselle woke up like she had so many nights ago, and still felt the same revulsion at what she saw. Her breasts had sagged to milkless bags, her skin still the same yellow hue, a dried up corpse that refuses to die. She had screamed that first night after the count had left her lying close to the dying embers of the fire. The other women had come out, had fought each other meekly to lick the count's godhead from her folds. She had let them pleasure her, but as soon as the last drop of the elixir had been sucked away from her, they had left her to her own devices. All that was left was a memory and solitude. She pawed at what once had been pink flesh between her legs idly, half-expecting it to spring back to life, but it did not. Another cold gust of air made the last struggling strands of hair move, and there he stood, carrying a beautiful blonde girl in his arms. "Another angel of mercy" she rasped. And she sobbed. But no tears came, not even when he laid her down beside them, and parted her thighs, black fingernails gently grazing her skin. Maiselle closed her eyes, folded her bony fingers on what was left of her stomach. "Enjoy her, my decadent demon." The Kindness of Strangers You and I are neighbours, we have lived on the same floor for a few years yet we never exchange more than the usual pleasantries that neighbours exchange. Nice weather, thanks for holding the door... It is a cold winter night and I am coming home late from work with bags filled with groceries, you have just pulled into the parking lot and you see me struggling to get the door open. You rush to my side to help me and I am so grateful as most people just watch me struggle. You take a few bags from me and hold open the door. We step into the lobby and we wait for the elevator. You take a sideways glance at me and you remember how beautiful you thought I was the first time you saw me in the hallway. You feel a stirring in your pants and are embarrassed, you do not know if I can tell that you are aroused. I do see the bulge in your pants getting bigger and am suitably impressed!! We get to our floor and the doors open, you let me go ahead of you, hoping that will give your hard on time to subside. When we get to my door I drop my bags on the floor and start to search for my keys in my purse, as I bend over my already short skirt rides up and you can see the tops of my stockings and any chance you had of losing your erection fade away... I open the door and we walk in with the groceries, the door closes behind you and we are in the dark, you feel me get closer and you assume that I am going to turn on the light. Instead you feel my hands on your crotch and my hot breath in your ear as I whisper that I saw your reaction to me in the elevator and I want to taste you...you hear me lock the door and I slide to my knees and you feel me unzip your pants. I push you up against the door and you are disoriented because of the darkness, but as soon as I release your cock you know exactly where you are and what is about to happen. You can't believe it is happening because you have fantasized about it so many times and here I am on my knees about to suck your cock like it's never been sucked! I gently flick my tongue over the swollen head of your cock and you jump with delight, I roll my tongue all around the head and flick the sensitive underside of the head with such tenderness that you sigh with relief, I have your balls in my hand and am gently massaging them as I slip the tip of your cock inside my hot, wet mouth. I start to suck you as I massage your balls and run my nails up and down your thighs. I slip my hands around to the back of your ass so I can pull you towards me as I take the full length of you into my mouth, so deep that you can feel the back of my throat on the tip of your cock. I dig my nails into your ass as I start to suck harder and faster, I pull back and you think I am done but I take your hand and lead you to my couch, I take off your pants and underwear and I sit you on the couch and spread your legs and kneel down in between them. I remove my blouse and I put your hands on my tits and you can feel my nipples get hard through the fabric as you rub them. I moan and you pull me up into your lap so you can taste them, you gently lift each one out of the bra and you bring me close to your lips, you run your tongue all around the nipples and make them harder and harder, my hands are in your hair and I am moaning in your ear. You have no idea what this is doing to me but my panties are already soaked because I am so turned on by what you are doing. I stand up and I pull up my skirt and remove my panties, leaving my stockings and heels on. I straddle you and slide your cock into my hot wetness, I sit with all my weight on you and we just sit that way for a minute, our lips find each other in the blackness and we kiss deeply without moving our hips, just enjoying the feeling of our bodies melding into one. Our tongues continue to tangle together and you have moved your hands down to my hips and start to move me up and down on your cock. I throw back my head and start to moan and groan. I feel your rhythm and start to move up and down with you and am feeling every inch of you inside me, I grind my hips on you and am feeling myself get closer to cumming with every thrust. I whisper in your ear that I want you to make me cum and you start to fuck me with every ounce of strength you have...we fuck each other as hard as we can until we both explode at the same time. You whisper that was the best orgasm you have ever had, I stand up and you slip out of me and I can feel your essence starting to drip out of my pussy. I take your hand and lead you to the bathroom, I light some candles and you finally catch a glimpse of my naked body. You turn me around so we are facing the mirror and you grind up behind me and you grab my tits and are looking deep into my eyes through the mirror, you unhook my bra and you turn me around and pick me up and put me down on the counter. You kneel down in front of me and you see for the first time that my pussy is completely shaved, you can see every fold and glistening inch of me and are dying to taste me. You take my legs and run your lips down the length of my stockings until you reach my shoes, you start to lick and kiss them and you gently remove each shoe and place it on the floor, you unhook my stockings and slide each one off of my legs. You remove the garter and I a now completely naked. I turn to put the shower on and you remove the rest of your clothes. I pull back the curtain and you enter the shower with me. I have my back to the shower head and the hot steamy water is running down my body, falling over my tits and you are dying to touch me again. You grab the soap and lather up your hands and run them all over me, you massage my tits with the lather and make each nipple rock hard again, you reach down and spread my legs and are rubbing your soapy hands all over my throbbing pussy, you remove the shower head and run the hot water all over me and wash away all of the soap. You replace it and you kneel before me letting the water run down your back, you put my left leg up on the side of the tub and you finally taste me. You flick your tongue over my clit and I am moaning again, you slip three fingers inside me and start to suck on my clit, my hips are bucking with every thrust of your fingers. I look down and I see that what you are doing to me and my reaction has brought back your beautiful erection and you stand up and wrap my legs around your hips and slip back into my waiting, pulsating pussy. You turn us around and your back is now to the shower head, you ram your cock into me as I bounce up and down and we are both panting with the effort. I tell you how good your cock feels inside me and you tell me that you have never felt this way before. Our pace quickens again and again as we both cum loudly and you slide me off you and back onto the floor of the tub. You grab me and pull me into a passionate kiss and you finally introduce yourself to me... The Kindness of Strangers I thank Respieto who provided some wonderful comments and suggestions on an earlier draft. Also, I thank all my friends on the playground whose encouragement and friendship keep me writing and playing. This is a work of fiction and contains sexually explicit scenes. If the laws in your area prohibit you from reading this, please respect those laws. This work is copywrited by Lakesailer_mi. It had been the worst year of my life. I was angry at the world, at everyone I worked with, at everyone I lived with, and, I realize now, I was angriest at myself. Frustrations with relationships that were not what I had planned. Anger at an organization which failed again and again in spite of my warnings and direction. People who relied on me, but never paid attention. People who took all I gave, and only demanded more. I had begun to hate people. To despise them in their weaknesses and pettiness. I also felt the feeling was mutual, that most people, including those closest to me, had come to despise me as well. It had all become too much and one day I reached my limit. Packing a small backpack with a variety of clothes and items, I just left. It is a testament to the self centeredness of the world that no one noticed, no one tried to stop me. I simply walked out of the world I had built and entered an invisible world. I walked along roads, some busy, some deserted. Occasionally, especially at first, I would get rides with truck drivers or other travelers. They would ask "where are you headed"? My answer was always a nod down the road and a simple "there." Sometimes they would try to engage me in conversation. I soon learned to turn the conversation toward them, asking questions like "where are you from? " and "where are you going?" Probing and letting them talk. My answers were non-answers; short, clipped, and probably off putting. Looking back, I notice that the rides got shorter and shorter with people making excuses to get off the highway just a few stops later. Looking back, I also realize I was getting fewer and fewer offers for rides. My appearance must have been off-putting and I may have smelled bad. I was, after all, a homeless man. Some months later I walked into a rest stop at just about dusk. Rest stops were part of the reason why I stayed on the major highways, rather than venture off onto smaller roads. Smaller roads usually afforded easier walking, and I was nearly always walking by this time, but it was difficult to find places as hospitable as a highway rest stop. There was always a bathroom and water at a rest stop. Saving money I had found - you would be stunned at the amount of money simply lying on the side of a road - I could usually afford some snack or small amount of food from the vending machine. If I hung around long enough, I usually got the remnants of some family's rest stop lunch, often retrieved from the trash as they pulled back onto the road. The best part of a rest stop was that I could usually find an out of sight corner to rest and sleep. Sleeping and bathing are the two most difficult aspects of being homeless. While water and public rest rooms are available in myriad places, and food can be scavenged from a society so rich it discards 'left overs' that would feed families in other parts of the world, finding a place to sleep safely was a challenge. Rain or snow was uncomfortable, but not really dangerous. There were other homeless, some clearly much less sane than I. There were the crazy people who were a part of society and looked for ways to hurt those outside it, and worst of all, there were well meaning people and police. All of these people, for their different reasons, would destroy my sleep unless I found a place to hide. Rest stops often afforded that luxury. It had grown dark while I used the rest room and found some food. The rest stop was deserted by dark, the road being far from most towns and not really on the way to or from anywhere. Not far from the parking lot I found a place, behind a picnic table and under a bush where I could hide for the night. Patrolling police and the occasional rest stop patron would not see me or venture into this area in the dark. It wasn't particularly late, but I settled in and had begun to doze off when I heard a car coming into the parking lot. Normally I would have ignored it but this car did not sound right. The loud flap-flap and the sound of metal grating on pavement was unmistakable: this car had a flat. Not just a flat, but probably a complete blow out and likely some miles back. The driver had continued to drive on it, well past what was prudent, and was finally limping into this rest stop. I heard the car door slam and a woman's voice screamed through sobs "Jesus Motherfucking Christ! Why?!!" I had grown cold over the last few months, leaving my anger and disgust behind me, but all of those feelings were perfectly reflected in her anguished cry of "why" and they awoke something inside me. I slowly rose and walked out of the dark toward her car. I could hear curse words and muttered cries of anguish and sobs. I stopped at the back of the car, she stood on the sidewalk in front of it. She didn't see me coming, I realize now, and so when I said "can I help you" she jumped and screamed in surprise, although I think I was at least as surprised by my offer. "Stay back! I have pepper spray and I'll use it" with an anger and bravado I could tell she was unaccustomed to. She fumbled with her purse and was soon holding her arm rigid with a small bottle of something pointed at me. I shrugged and turned to walk away, emotionless again. As I retreated, she said flatly "wait." It wasn't a command. It wasn't a pleading question either, it was simply an indication that I should wait. I turned back and looked at her standing there. We were nearly under a light and as her arm lowered and she relaxed slightly I began to make out details. Her shoes were heels, and her calves, exposed by the knee length black, tailored, designer cocktail dress, were perfect. Her body curved subtly, clearly sculpted by many hours in the gym. Her face, classically beautiful was pinched in pain. I could see swelling, and possibly a bruise on her left eye. Her voice portraying a level of control I knew from my life was a mask, she flatly asked "can you change a tire?" That simple question exploded in my mind. Could I change a tire? At seven I began working on cars with my Dad. We rebuilt the '68 Mustang he had rescued from the guy who had driven it without oil. We worked on the family cars and my friends' cars, and the 1972 Grand Am I had bought from some moron who thought it was a lemon. I had taken engines completely apart and put them back together before I was fourteen. I knew timing settings and carburetor settings of a half dozen late 60's and 1970's cars like I knew the back of my hand. I could rebuild brakes and clutches and I had even done a little body work and painting. Most of those skills though, were useless today. No one had a manual transmission and clutches were a thing of the past. Electronic fuel ignition was controlled by a computer and was perfect, something nearly impossible to achieve with a timing light in your backyard. Of course when the chip failed, you couldn't drive your car at all. Such is the price of perfection. But I simply shrugged and said "yeah." We stood there looking at each other for a moment and she reached into her purse and I heard the bleep-bleep of remote key entry opening the car and the trunk popped. She remained about three feet in front of the car on the sidewalk. I approached the trunk again and opened it completely, assuming I would find a neat and empty trunk, with a spare under the carpet. Instead I found a jumble of beautiful clothing thrown hastily into the pristine trunk. I gently gathered an armful, and walked slowly to the passenger side of the car. The door was unlocked and I placed the clothing on the leather seat with far more care than was probably necessary. The small back seat of the two door car was also strewn with clothing and knick knacks. The woman stood, the car always between us, and watched. I suppose I should have felt anger at doing all the work. Or perhaps pity or disgust. But what I felt was an understanding for someone who was leaving her life with only a carful of possessions. I carefully moved her clothing to the front passenger seat until I could lift the trunk panel and expose the spare tire and jack. The spare was not one of those emergency ones, but a full tire. I lifted it in one hand, while the other grabbed the jack and tire iron/lug wrench/jack handle. I wished, for a brief second, for my good lug wrench, as the combinations did none of the jobs well. Mechanics using pneumatic wrenches could over tighten a lug nut making it humanly impossible to remove. Rust and road grime, and in this case the trauma of a blow out, could damage threads too. I didn't hesitate, and soon was apply the lug wrench to the tire. Hesitantly, she tried to strike up a conversation "So, what were you doing over there?" Her voice betraying her nervousness. I mumbled something about "sleeping" and continued working the lug nuts off the posts. I saw, out of the corner of my eye her nod. She opened her mouth to say something more, but realized there was little to talk about. The front passenger tire was, in a word, destroyed. The blow out must have happened some miles back as there was very little of the actual tire left on the rim. The high tech fibers that make up most modern tires were frayed and torn. I could see bends and scraps on the rim itself and suspect that it was bent, nearly surely beyond any further use. The amount of abuse necessary to achieve this effect was nothing short of horrific. The lug nuts were difficult to release. I worked on each one, a light sweat building. Two of them actually screamed in protest as they resisted me. But leverage and upper body strength won out on all five and soon I was jacking the front end of the BMW up to affect the actual replacement. I placed the new tire on the lug bolts and secured the nuts to flush tire against the hub. I lowered the car and following the classic star pattern, tighten the nuts the last bit to ensure the tire would remain in place. Carefully, I placed the damaged tire in the trunk and re-secured the jack and combo tool. I paused and looked at my hands. They were, of course, covered in grease and grime. I did not want to soil her beautiful clothing returning it to the trunk. It occurred to me that they could probably stay there, as she clearly had no passenger. I heard her heals on the pavement before I saw her approach the driver's door. She opened the door and reached into the back over the seat. Out of the jumble she pulled a small white box and closing the gap between us, she simply handed me a wet wipe. Mechanically I wiped the mess from my hands as she watched. We stood there for a moment, our eyes meeting. I could now see the bruising around hers, and slight crows feet betraying the aging that she resisted with trips to the gym and makeup. Her eyes were brown, like her curly, shoulder length hair. They were warm, but I also saw in them emotions that mirrored the ones I thought I had abandoned along the roads I had walked. I could see in her damaged face the damage we both had suffered. And as I found myself in her, I could see that she was finding herself in me. I finished cleaning my hands and turned and walked to the passenger side again. Carefully, I gathered her clothing and returned it to the trunk, attempting some order where none had been before. She stood, watching. Perhaps I should have felt abused or used, and yet, I simply did not. Nor did I feel righteousness. I simply understood. I closed the trunk and turned to walk back to my few possessions and my resting spot for the night. Her voice, flat, unpresuming, unemotional, broke the long silence we had shared with that same single word: "wait." I turned, standing in the middle of the parking lot and looked at her. "You're homeless. Come with me." Her voice was not filled with senseless pity or self righteousness. Neither was it a command or even really an invitation. It was simply an understanding, and a logical conclusion. I shrugged, no answer or words were necessary. I turned again and walked to recover my positions. I heard her car start and I wondered if she had changed her mind, or misinterpreted my actions as rejection. I doubted it, and gathered my back pack and stepped back into the parking lot. She backed out and positioned the car next to me, and in I climbed . She began accelerating quickly and soon we were floating silently along the dark highway stretched out before us. As a well lit intersection approached I felt the car begin to decelerate and my heart sank. Sleeping in a rest stop is far preferable to any location within walking distance of this intersection, and since I had no real goal for my wandering, the 30 or so miles we miles we had covered were meaningless to me. As the car slowed at the top of the exit ramp, I began to mumble something like "I'll get out here, thanks for the lift." Before I could really articulate the words she whispered "shhhhh." I do not know why, but I shrugged and remained in the car. We turned into the large lot that the Love's Truck Stop shared with the Waffle House and the Motel 6. We could have been nearly anywhere along a US interstate. She parked the car in front of the Motel and got out. I sat, knowing I should wait. A few moments later she returned, a paper and key card in one hand. She pulled the car around the back of the Motel and paused, looked at the few cars in the parking lot and finally choosing the most remote dark corner to park, half hidden behind the Motel's dumpster. We got out of the car and she grabbed a few small bags from the back. I followed her, a few paces behind as we approached a room. I broke our mutually understood silence again and simply said "you could probably get a tarp at the Love's and that would help hide the car." S he looked back at me, not surprised that I understood, and smiled and nodded. I could not tell if I had contributed, or simply stated the obvious. We entered the room and as the door closed she said "I need a shower, you want to flip a coin for who goes first?" I chuckled "perhaps it should be you, ladies first, and all that." She nodded and quickly moved to the bathroom. I took a seat on the chair in the room and closed my eyes for a moment. I was surprised at how much I was looking forward to a shower. I had not had a shower in so long I could not even count the days. It is nearly impossible for a homeless man to find a place to shower. Showers are a part of a society we have left. We rejected that society and it rejects us. And nowhere is that more clear than showering and hygiene. I must have dozed off, since the next thing I knew she was standing in front of me, changed into blue jeans and a knit shirt, toweling off her hair. "It's your turn. The water's hot and the pressure is decent." Making my way into the bath room and closing the door I began to disrobe, shedding layer after layer that had protected me for so long. I stepped into the warm shower and watched as the water swirling at my feet turned to a dark gray. The grime and dirt of months was slowly making its way into the drain. I washed two, or three times, and needed at least four latherings for my hair to rinse clean. I thought I heard the bath door open and close once during this time. When I finally stepped out of the tub, no longer gray but a tanned and weathered man, my old clothing was gone. I was puzzled as to why she would take my clothes and why I trusted it was for a good reason. I looked into the mirror, and wiped the steam away. I hardly recognized the grizzled face that peered back at me. Only my eyes were familiar. Long hair, which was curlier than I thought possible and a thick, black, unkempt beard covered most of the features I remembered. I dried myself, enjoying the feeling of a soft warm towel against my skin. I was surprised at the changes that had occurred in my body. Ever since early college days, I was best described as plump or soft. But all of that fat was gone. The long days on the road, and the many days of little food, had left my body wiry and even muscular. My thighs and calves were strong and somehow I had gained some muscle definition in my abs and shoulders as well. Walking, apparently, is good for you. I emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist and found my bag emptied of the few clothes I was not wearing. But on the bed was a package of 3 cheap undershorts, a pair of work pants, a T-shirt advertising the local tourist trap, and light jacket. All were brand new and about my size. There was also deodorant, and a range of hair grooming tools including what looked like a professional clipper, scissors, an assortment of combs and brushes, and three Bic razors. I pulled on the shorts and pants, and returned to the bathroom with the clipper and the razors. I started with the beard, using the clippers to remove as much as possible and then using lots of soap and water with the Bics. It took two passes and I think I ruined the razor. During that time the room door opened and I heard the woman moving about. When I came back out of the bathroom she looked at me and smiled a warm generous smile. Very matter of factly she said "I found a washing machine and I'm washing the clothes that seemed salvageable." Again, there was no hint of pity or disdain, it was a simple statement meant to inform me. She looked over at the scissors and said "I used to cut hair for a living, I can cut yours, if you want." I shrugged and nodded and we went into the bathroom again, where she quickly cut and trimmed my hair. She left it longer than I had usually done in my life, but it was again, recognizable to me. I finished dressing in the clothing she had purchased. She held up a tarp, and said "would you help me?" I laughed and said "sure" as I followed her out the door and back to the corner where we quickly covered her car with the crinkly new tarp. As we stepped back, she let out a deep sigh, which may have been the first moment she had relaxed in who knew how long. She smiled at me "Thank you. I'm famished, will you join me for some dinner?" She started walking toward the waffle house, without waiting for the answer that she knew I would give, and I followed trusting that whatever happened would be OK. We took a seat in a back corner booth with a good view of the parking lot and her tension returned. We both ordered and soon a plate of hot food was in front of me. I ate slowly, savoring the taste. I realized that it had been a long time and I was amazed at how wonderful freshly cooked food tasted. As I finished the last few bites, about the same time she did, I looked up at her. I could now see that in addition to the black eye, her arms, and wrists, were covered with bruises. The eye looked slightly better than I recalled perhaps she had found something to put on it while I was in the shower and the swelling was reduced. I didn't say anything, I didn't have to. The waitress returned "Save any room for Pie?" she asked. In a voice far brighter and more enthusiastic than I thought was possible, she said "we'll both take a slice! Apple for me, please." The waitress scribbled on her pad, then looked at me. "Cherry if you have it." It was as if the pie broke the ice and started a conversation. Not really about us or anything, but just a an exchange about the weather and the local town and its gitchy tourist trap. Memories of childhood road trips to places just like this only miles away. We laughed about plastic dinosaurs and the wonder of Mystery Hill. The Kindness of Strangers Without even a thought she picked up the tab and paid. I noticed that she started with a credit card but then switched quickly to cash. She had probably paid cash for everything, she was staying off the grid. We returned to our hotel room and after watching a little TV, turned out the lights and curled up, each in one of the two double beds of a standard hotel room. I woke sometime in the night, probably around 3am and quietly made my way to the bathroom. As I slid into bed again, I heard her stirring in her own bed linens. I had my back to her, and I sensed rather than saw, her move to get out of bed. I assumed she was going to the rest room as well, and began to relax into sleep. After a moment though, I felt her weight on the bed next to me. Her hand touched my shoulder, gently, tentatively, yet with no apology or self consciousness. I rolled onto my back and turned toward her. The pajamas she had changed into earlier were gone and she was clad only in bikini panties. She was kneeling on the bed next to me, leaning over me slightly. Her dark curly hair spilled onto her bare chest and her full breasts rose and fell with her slightly quick breaths. My hand slid onto her thigh, and hers onto my bare chest. Even though the room was dark, the poor shades let in enough light for our eyes to meet with understanding. She leaned down and our lips met, gently, carefully, with a fluttering kiss born not of uncertainty or reluctance but of kindness and caring. She supported herself with one hand on the pillow near my head, and the other, on my shoulder. Instinctively my arms rose around her and drew her toward me as our kiss deepened. We pushed the sheets separating us aside quickly and her legs slid down mine as her chest rested against me. My lips brushed and teased at hers and in between our eyes conveyed our desire, passion and love. My fingers slid gently up and down the center of her back. Her skin was smooth, soft and both foreign and familiar. I let one hand slide up to the back of her neck, fingers splaying into her thick curly hair. My other hand followed her curves down to her hip, caressing her ass and then wrapping her up, pulling her closer to me. The warmth of her soft breasts against my chest and her hand, holding my bicep sent electricity coursing through me and concentrating in the root of my now hard member. Her other hand found my face and cupped it, drawing our kisses together with an intimacy I had never experienced. I have no concept of time passing, the kisses and low soft moans went on forever or a few minutes. My hands continued to roam her soft curves, gently caressing her skin, teasing her hair, and exploring her reactions. I felt her shiver, not of cold but passion, and I shivered too when her hand slid down my side to my hip, finally cupping my erection through the soft cotton fabric still covering it. Her fingertips slid back up my torso, until her hand was in the middle of my chest. She broke our kiss and rolled onto her back, bending her legs and lifting her hips as she slid her panties off. I didn't need the look she gave me as an invitation, but I understood that she needed to provide the invitation. Turning onto my side, I slid one leg over hers as she spread out across the bed. My fingers gently swept across her nipples which were stiff with arousal. Our lips met again, and our tongues darted and explored as my fingers danced across her body. Soon my explorations found her sex. She was smooth shaven and her lips were soft and engorged. My fingers danced and teased as our tongues did and she moaned into my mouth when my I swirled around her rising clit. I broke our kiss and my lips found her neck, shoulder and then her breast. Sucking and kissing at her rigid nipple and the soft skin around it while my fingers gently slid through the folds of her sex caused her back to arch as gasps escaped her mouth. I could feel and hear her excitement building in her quivering body and her damp open sex. Slowly, my kisses began to move down her torso. My lips brushing and barely touching the skin of her flat stomach. I shifted my body, and positioned myself between her legs. When my mouth found her tiny belly button, my tongue darted and explored her, while my fingers began caressing her nipples. Her breath quickened as my lips trailed down her abdomen until they reached her mons. One kiss there and then I let my tongue start as far back as I could reach and slowly, lightly, slide up the edges of her slit. She mewled and gasped when I finally reached her clit. My tongue continued to stroke and tease her; increasing pressure here and there, then backing off. My hands slid under her, lifting her pelvis, so that I was feeding her to my mouth and tongue. It did not take long, and I did little to stretch the sensation for her. She exploded as her climax crossed the brink into orgasm. Her hands grasped at the pillow under her head and she bit her lower lip, trying to suppress the deep guttural groan of gratification that erupted from her lips beyond her control. After her convulsions began to subside, her hands grasped my head and she slowly guided me over. She rolled me onto my back, and then knelt beside me. As she done before, she leaned down and began to kiss me. The taste of her sex was still on my lips, and I was consumed with even more desire that she too was enjoying the sensuous aftertaste. Breaking our kiss, she pulled the briefs down my hips and legs, exposing me, as she had exposed herself. Her fingers briefly caressed my shaft as she stared at it for just a moment. She threw her legs across my body and guided me into her waiting tunnel. Her hips began to rock and thrust on me, and she lay against me, the warmth of our bodies conjoined. Our eyes and lips met again and we sank into each other. Two bodies becoming one. We made love. As we lay fully sated she shifted so that half of her body was on mine. I twisted slightly so that we were curled into one another. My arms wrapped her in my warmth and her soft frame covered me in gentleness. I felt her shudder and a wetness on my shoulder, but I understood. We fell into a comfortable slumber and arose to the sound of trucks in the truck stop next door. It was early. Our eyes opened and met, not in any embarrassment nor was there an expectation of anything more than the moments we had shared. Each of us showered in turn and dressed silently, until we were ready to leave. After checking us out of the motel we walked to the Waffle House for what would be our last meal together. Afterword, she bought me some snacks at the Love's store, and she filled her tank with gas. We stood, amidst the pumps and the trucks and looked at each other until I broke the silence. "Where will you go?" I asked. The first direct question either of us had obligated the other with. "I have a brother. In California. He knows I'm coming." I nodded. "And you? Do you want to continue west? Where will you go?" Her voice, like mine, was not filled with misplaced concern, but simple care and curiosity. "East." I said nodding back up the road we had driven the night before. "Home."