13 comments/ 8863 views/ 11 favorites Stranger Things By: ImYourSweetheart The hustle and bustle of New York was bad enough without adding lateness to the agenda. I was late by exactly 48 minutes and was hating it. I pushed my way through the crowds, shouting excuses and pardons at every contact. Breaking through the crowd I saw Sam still waiting at the cafe, bless his heart. How he keeps his temper with me I'll never know. His personality was flawless to be honest. Even as attractive as he was, he was still humble. At 6'2 with black, unkempt hair and beautiful green eyes, he was my Prince Charming. I'm not a stunner, I mean I'd consider myself to be a bit of a head turner but nothing spectacular. I'm 5'10 and 130 pounds, contributing to my slender yet curvy figure. I pride myself on my long black hair and I love that my lips have the perfect amount of pouty fullness to them but everyone always tells me my best feature is my eyes. They're slightly larger than average giving me a porcelain doll image and are the deepest blue you could imagine. All this framed by thick black lashes and a bit of a self confidence boost. I walked towards his table, straightening myself up when I made contact with someone. 'I'm sorry, excuse me.' I said, giving Sam my full attention. He had noticed me now, and had stood with his trademark half-smirk. My steps were halted as my arm was grabbed and I was swung around to face the person I had bumped into. Opening my mouth to scold whoever dared put their hand on me, I looked up to see two smoldering brown eyes staring down at me. He was extremely handsome with his angular nose and long hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck. But he was rude, and handsome or not, I wasn't about to tolerate that. 'I said I was sorry, would you like to put me down before I put you down?' I glared at my would-be attacker. He laughed, letting his head fall back and his eyes close, reveling in whatever the hell was so funny. 'Well? Let me go!' I pulled against his restraint, only to feel no give in his grasp. I caught Sam's eye and beckoned for him to come across. 'I have waited a long time for you, sweetness. Far too long.' I turned to face the stranger's nonsensical ramblings to be greeted with his lips against mine. I gasped at the intrusion, only to feel my bottom lip sucked into his unforgiving kiss. Pushing against his chest only seemed to spur him on more, one hand wrapped around my waist and the other still firmly gripping my other arm. 'What the fuck is this?!' I heard Sam yell and the hands on my body fell away. 'Leave, now. She is not your concern boy.' I looked up towards my 25 year old fiancé and saw anger in his eyes. I mean, the guy couldn't have been older than his mid 30's. 'My soon-to-be wife would disagree with that. Now back the fuck off.' The strange man looked at me with such hurt and confusion I had to wrack my brains to think if I knew him before' 'You..you are taken?' He said, lips pursed. I raised my eyebrows as if his previous statement was exceedingly obvious. 'Yeah, hence the pushing away.' The hurt left his eyes and was replaced with a burning fury that made my temper look positively kitten-like. Before I could even react, he reached out and twisted Sam's head with a deafening snap that had passer-by's jumping out of their skin. I knew I was screaming as his body hit the floor, but I couldn't hear it. New York silenced as tears flooded my face. My entire life was gone with that moment, shattered on the pavement. People started gathering around Sam's lifeless corpse as the stranger ushered me away from the scene. My feet seemed to be moving of their own accord, lacking the strength to stop him. He pushed me towards a black Ford on the street corner when my brain snapped into gear. 'What did you do?!' I screamed at him, swinging my fist to connect fully with his jaw. He didn't flinch, just remained still gripping my arm disallowing me release. 'Get off me, you sick fuck! I swear, I will fucking kill you. I hate you, I fucking hate you!' He span me around, mimicking our initial meeting minutes earlier, only this time pulling me inches away from his face. My breath caught in my throat, as his once beautiful face only instilled disgust and hatred inside me. 'Your name?' His glare burned me 'Emma.' 'Emma, you are mine. You were made to belong to me. He could not have you and no one will. Now get in the car.' This statement from a man I had never met, who I had never spoken to or made contact with was the last straw. The weak hold on my temper was broken. I lifted my knee, aiming to put this man to the ground. Before my foot lifted an inch, he lifted his hand and stabbed something into the crease of my neck. This sudden movement knocked me off balance and my knees went weak, forcing my body to fall back into him. I could feel a cloud starting to cover my mind, blackness taking over my eyes. He picked me up like a small child and placed me on the back seat of the Ford. I heard him walk around to the front passenger seat and buckle up. A second man's voice shattered the growing quiet in my head. 'Where to, Klaus?' 'Home please. I'm taking her home.' Panic flooded my mind before the darkness swallowed me whole. Stranger Things Ch. 02 I had spent the rest of the day in a small, dark room with just a mattress and a blanket to occupy my time. To say this stranger, Klaus, had just murdered my fiancé and kidnapped me from the street, his longing for me seemed short lived. The first five hours had been spent in a corner, sobbing for Sam. My chest began to ache with the grief and my eyes with the floods but I could not stop myself. After a while it seemed my body could take no more and consoled itself by shutting out its surroundings. I lay on the dingy makeshift bed and turned off. I don't know how long I remained like that but my silence was interrupted by the large door squealing as an unknown man entered. He was attractive, no doubt about it, with his amber eyes and shaggy blonde hair. But I saw it, the resemblance. He looked like him. The stranger. My fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in as he knelt to take a look at me. His hand swept across my cheek as I brought my knee up hard and released my foot into his shoulder. I made my point as the 4 inch heel hit the soft spot beneath his collarbone and wedged its way beneath his skin. He yelled as he fell away from me giving me enough space to clamber to my feet and escape through the door. 'That's such a bad idea.' I heard him say through gritted teeth. By this point, I didn't care what he or anyone else had to say. I wanted out. I ran through corridor after endless corridor until I came across two large, ornate wooden doors. For some reason, the markings on the doors seemed familiar. The panic and cautiousness I had turned into curiosity as I stroked my fingers down the gilded edges. It was decorated with a large circle filled with 3 smaller circles arranged in an upside down triangle. The top left circle held a sun that was oddly coloured a very deep blue, unusual since so much of the door held the golden trim. The right circle contained a moon symbol painted an ominous black. It was splattered with a dark red paint that seemed to have been simply tossed over the elegant work. However it was the smallest circle that caught my eye, beneath the two. I had seen the symbol it held, the sun and moon held together by an interlocking chain. It was my necklace. I'd had my necklace as long as I could remember and my mom had simply kept lengthening the chain as I grew. Was I part of some creepy occult bullshit? I wasn't staying to find out. I turned sharply and my face connected hard with something solid as two hands grabbed my upper arms, the pressure painfully stopping my circulation. 'That wasn't very wise, was it sweetness? Hmm?' The smooth voice made my knees go weak and my body drooped, held up only by his grip. 'Klaus.' The tears formed in my eyes instantly, memories sweeping over my mind and engulfing me in the reality once more. 'Well that's convenient, no need for introductions. We can get straight in with it.' He smiled broadly and turned, dragging me as he walked. 'With what?' Silence 'Goddammit, you better answer me or I swear I'll...' My back hit the wall with such force, the wind left my body. His hand was around my throat lifting me off the ground and hanging suspended with only his wrist for support. 'Or you'll what?! What the fuck will you do pet?' His anger was clear, burning in his chocolate eyes. I could feel the blood burning trapped against my face as my breathing became laboured and my chest grew weaker. I wasn't going down without a fight. If he was going to kill me, I wanted him to know I wouldn't submit. I spat as hard as I possibly could directly into his eye. It got the response I wanted as he dropped me to ground ungraciously. I held my throat, gasping for air when I heard him laugh. And it wasn't friendly. 'Fine, I was willing to be nice but you just fucked over your only protection.' He grabbed my hair and yanked forcing me to crawl behind him down the corridor. I screamed obscenities at him as I trailed behind. Klaus kicked open a door about five minutes of pain later. It was a bedroom. A large kingsize bed stood in the centre covered in deep red satin sheets. The walls hosted carcasses of dead animals, glaring down at me threateningly. He tossed me onto the bed and stood at the edge menacingly. 'Strip.' I remained face down on the bed, refusing to move in a very childlike manner. 'Emma. Now.' 'No, fuck you. I will not bow to your commands, you prick.' My voice was muffled by the bedsheets. My head was ripped backwards as his hands wrapped in my hair. I could feel the roots detaching from my head. 'You don't have a choice sweetness.' Without a moments hesitation, he yanked up my skirt and ripped off my panties. Then with one swift moment, he bottomed out his cock in my extremely dry pussy. My scream echoed back at me off the darkened walls. 'You're very dry little one. Are you not enjoying yourself?' He grunted with each agonising thrust inside me. 'I was very upset that someone had already claimed you this way. I would had love to heard you shriek as I stole your innocence.' I was grateful that my body's natural defences had kicked in and I was getting wet. It at least helped with some of the pain. This guy must be at least 8"! The tears rolled constantly down my face but I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of hearing my cries. I lay there as silent as possible while he finished with a deep grunt inside me. I could feel the warm liquid running down my thighs as he pulled out. Before I could even recover myself, he turned me over violently and forced me to make eye contact with him. 'Listen, you little bitch. I AM your nightmares. I will hurt you in ways you can't imagine. You are mine. Deal with it.' He stayed there for a moment, clearly waiting for a reply. 'My response will always be no.' I sounded a lot braver than I felt. Klaus's reaction added to that fear. He let out an ear piercing shriek and faster than I could see, bowed to my neck and sunk in his teeth. For the second time that week I was losing consciousness as I felt my blood leaving my body. Right before the darkness peaked, he pulled away slightly and licked and kissed the bite mark, almost as if a lover. 'We'll see.' Stranger Things Ch. 03 I had escaped, running through a lush green field of daisies. It was beautiful. There was no panic, no fear, no pain. And Sam was there with me. It was heaven, my heaven. He had come to save me, death couldn't hold him back. He loved me and he wasn't going to let that bastard Klaus hurt me anymore. I ran, my feet barely skimming the ground, the surroundings fading until it was just him. Behind Sam, a shadow emerged from the darkness. It was too familiar. I screamed his name over and over but he just kept walking towards me with that smirk I loved so much. I couldn't let it get him, not again. We would live happily ever after and run into the sunset. He would not die again. But I wasn't going anywhere, my legs wouldn't move quick enough and the ground was constantly pulling me back. I watched as the shadow ripped out Sam's throat, watching me with those deadly brown eyes. Those all too familiar eyes. I awoke with a start, sweat dripping from my forehead mingling with the tears streaming down my face. 'He's dead, get over it.' I jumped at the invasion of silence. In the darkness I saw the shadow, lighted only by the morning sun peering through the heavy curtains. His voice offended my ears and although it was apparent I was trapped in my situation, I wasn't about to give him anymore of my attention. I lay back, facing away and clenching my eyes, attempting to fade back into my dream world. I knew what Klaus was now. A vampire. I've always been an open minded person, believing we weren't the only intelligent life forms out there. It'd be selfish for me to think we were alone. So I guess vampire were as much an open concept as E.T bicycling back home. But it didn't help much knowing what he was. It just reinforced the knowledge that he didn't have a conscience and I didn't have a chance in hell. 'You can't sit and mope all day, you have a dress fitting for the ceremony and I refuse to let you stand by me wearing the dreadful things you have.' I heard the curtains open forcefully and light filled the room, assaulting my eyes through the delicate skin. 'I may be here and slightly more wary of plunging a knife into your face but you can go fuck yourself if you think I'm catering to any of your pathetic demands.' I noticed that feisty Emma always shows at the most inappropriate moments. Like in front of a blood-sucking, murderous vampire. I didn't hear the footsteps as a prelude to my most un-ceremonial rise from bed. Before I could blink in surprise, my mouth was forced upon his. His tongue was attempting entry to my mouth that I didn't want to give but the hands upon my nipples gave him my gasp of shock as a gateway. He wasn't harsh or rough, just passionate. He could have been my lover initiating a passionate rendezvous. After a few moments, he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. 'Why do you do that?' I dared to break the silence with my first non-abusive comment. 'Do what?' 'Cause me so much pain one moment then seem to care the next.' He open his eyes and looked over my face with his brow furrowed in confusion. 'I'm not sure. I have waited for you for a long time. I searched for years and it angered me that... that abomination found you first. Your very being is the key to the gateway and with the ritual any day now, I suppose bruising the goods wouldn't bode well for me. Your essence is all that matters to me. Your body...' He paused as I digested his words, disgust marring my face. 'Your body is simply an added bonus, sweetness.' He demonstrated his meaning by running his hand down my body and cupping my sex, pulling my chest to his. 'I intend to take advantage before it becomes a lifeless shell.' And with that he pushed me to the floor ungraciously and with a flourish, glided to the door. He turned at looked down at me, my hatred and despair apparent through every pore. 'Fifteen minutes, sweetness.' Don't make me come back for you.' Klaus slammed the door, shaking the bodiless animals on the walls. Abomination. That's what he'd called Sam. This guy was truly warped. Maybe he was pro-vampire only and he thought human were scum. Made sense since I was trapped here like a pathetic little mouse while he was lording it about. I needed to get out. Every ritual on television had never ended well and if I was the catalyst, I was definitely screwed. I paced across to the window, already expecting the outcome. Pushing the lock gave no relief and tugging at the frame wasn't anymore successful. He hadn't locked the door, he wanted me to come to him. One man's arrogance would definitely be my chance at freedom. I edged towards the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to tempt the Fates that were so clearly against me. The hinges creaked deafeningly as I pulled back the heavy wood. So much for my silent and stealthy plan. I crept into the seemingly never ending corridor and made my to the heavily laden table at the far wall. It was filled with ornaments made of wood and silver, of all different shapes and sizes. I grabbed a silver orb-like paperweight that appeared to be the heaviest. I knew I didn't really have a chance if I was caught but might be able to do a little damage before I was taken down. The hallway had four doors on one side and three on the other, two counting the room I'd just left. This gave me plenty of opportunities to make a mistake. There was the large door that I had noticed earlier. I suppose it did stand out more than the rest and could be the exit door. I turned to walk back the way I had came and connected with something hard. Hard enough to knock me on my arse and cause dancing little dots to fly over my optical nerve. I attempted to push myself to my feet when I felt a pressure at the back of my blouse and I was being dragged across the floor into the opposing room. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be late. I'll go straight to the stupid dress fitting. Please don't touch me again.' I was hoping my pleading would appease him, as I was pretty sure Klaus was the one doing the dragging. The room was engulfed in darkness as the door was kicked shut. I was hoping to have a swing with my recently acquired weapon but that would be much more difficult considering I couldn't see my own hands. I was pulled up from the ground with two hands under my shoulders in a very gentle way. This worried me more than his violence. I took this moment of kindness as an opening to turn and smash the ball into the general area of where I assumed Klaus's head to be. Instead I made contact with a much softer material and the sounds of choking echoed through the quiet room. I remembered him smaller but the connection was my escape route and I wasn't delaying any longer. I fumbled for the door handle, grabbing for anything other than air. 'Try and save a girl and this what you get? Babe, I don't wanna say ungrateful but...' It wasn't Klaus, but it wasn't real. I thought I had had my freedom in front of me and it was a fucking dream! I'd had enough, I'd tried my hardest and even my dreams were tormenting me. I fell to my knees and the floodgates opened. If I was to be miserable, my sub-conscious was the best place. 'My last dream at least started a little bit nicer, I can't...can't even fantasise anymore.' I was struggling to breathe in between sobs. I felt arms around my body and pull my back to rest against a warm chest. It seemed so real, so familiar that I let myself bury my head into his shoulder. 'I miss you Sam. I wish you'd stayed outside of the stupid cafe and just let him take me anyway. At least you'd be alive still and you could..could've met someone and had babies and I wouldn't have to feel like I'm dying.' The tears were coming thick and fast, soaking his jumper. 'Yeah, my babies are gonna be beaut. But I'm not dead, I'm right here.' Still sarcastic, even in my head. 'You are, I saw it.' I felt a warm hand on my waist, turning me to face him. I couldn't see his face but I knew he was looking straight at me. 'Babe, I wouldn't leave you like that. I've gotta lot of stuff to explain but right now the only thing that matters is getting you out of here.' And then I felt it, the spark. His lips pressed against mine and I felt the passion there. There was no faking that, no matter how good my imagination was. 'Oh my god, I thought...he'd killed you...and...oh my god...' I let my body weight fall into his arms and he encased me in an embrace. I guess the Fate's had a heart after all. Stranger Things Happen My wife loves me. She is, and has always been, faithful and true. She makes me feel appreciated and adored every day. I've never once thought that she might stray or betray our vows, and I'm careful to make sure she feels the same from me. Before we were together, though, she was promiscuous. I never asked for all the details, but I know she's had dozens of sexual partners, many of which she never even dated or knew. There were anonymous blowjobs, quickies at clubs around town, and I've gotten the feeling there was a long stretch where she brought home a new guy every weekend. I can't really hold it against her - I was one of those guys, after all. I just happened to be the last one. (By the way, if you have a choice between a virgin and a woman who knows how to suck a cock, always choose the experienced one.) So with zero concern about her fidelity and with the security she gives me in our marriage I have no problem indulging her fantasy. I guess it's a holdover from her days of one night stands, but nothing makes her hotter than the idea of being fucked by a stranger. It's not a rape fantasy thing, she just fantasizes about being intimate with an anonymous stranger. I don't take it personally at all, and honestly it has always turned me on in ways I don't really understand. It also makes me horny to think of what it does to her. Since we're not swingers and she's a faithful wife, we have to resort to role play to fill that fantasy. About once a month or so I'll blindfold her, leave her alone in the bedroom for a while, then come back and try to do something... Well, different from my normal "thing." Even though she KNOWS it's me, it seems to be enough for her to get lost in the fantasy of an unknown stranger filling her holes. Time for the next level. I had planned this for literally months. I placed ten Craigslist ads. I must have looked at 100 photos of cocks. I was looking for my doppelgänger. After about three or four months of searching I finally found the right man: slim, thick cock but not too long, about the same kind and amount of body hair, beard... Me in the dark, in other words. When I told him what I had in mind he was hesitant. When I showed him the boudoir photos my wife gave us for our 10th anniversary his reluctance mysteriously evaporated. I arranged things with other-me (we'll call him Mike) after it had been a couple months since our last stranger role-play. I knew she'd be ready to embark again on her fantasy, and she was more than willing. I wound up having to play for time when I got home from work on a Friday, because she was ready to go the minute I stepped in the door and I'd told Mike to be at our back door around at 7:00. After we ate a light dinner and split a bottle of wine, it was getting close to time. I led her to the bedroom, kissed her passionately, and helped her undress. "I wish I was going to be the one cumming inside you tonight," I said. She gave me a wry smile and started to play along. It was almost scripted, as many times as we'd played this particular game. "You can have sloppy seconds," she said, and winked. I slipped the blindfold over her head and leaned her back onto the stack of pillows on our bed. I stood back and admired her thick but firm body, her tan lines, her shaved mound, her erect and dark nipples. I was getting hard looking at her. When I thought about what was to come I almost came in my sweatpants. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked. "Come back later," she said, "after he's gone. You can clean me up." "Okay, I will." I grinned and left the room. Mike was waiting outside the garage door as planned. I wasn't too worried about noise from the door since one thing I did often was open and shut the door a couple of times, just to let her imagination fill in the blanks. I couldn't afford for her to hear any voices, though, so Mike and I had already arranged everything over an afternoon beer. I nodded, he nodded, and went back inside. I usually do different little things to help her convince herself that it's not me. Sometimes I'll wear a condom or a cock ring, or buy a cheap cologne I've never worn. Once I even took the time to shave my beard with an electric razor in the garage. This time, though, I thought Mike would feel different enough. I was worried she would realize what was happening and panic before her fantasy took over. I'd told Mike a few things to do early on that would feel a little familiar to her. Once she's into it, I told him, he won't need any pointers. Mike walked down the hall in his heavy work boots - another standard masquerade since I'm a white-collar kind of guy - while I tiptoed behind him, minicam in hand. He tossed his coat on the chair at the foot of the bed and stood for a few seconds beside the bed, admiring her naked body in the dim light. Her legs were straight on the bed, her feet together, and her hands were clasped loosely beneath her full breasts. He looked over his shoulder at me for the final go-ahead. I nodded. "Who's there?" She called, a practiced tremor in her voice. Mike reached out a single finger and slowly traced from her ankle up the top of her leg, stopping at her hip. (Move 1.) She shuddered and spread her legs slightly. Mike moved toward the head of the bed then reached out and pinched her nipple, hard. (Move 2.) She squealed and grabbed his hand, but her legs opened a touch more. Her other hand strayed across her hips toward her bare pussy. Mike had one more "stranger move" I'd given him, then it was up to him to enjoy himself. He snatched his hand away from her and quickly dropped his trousers. At that point I wondered if I'd made a mistake. He seemed like he was maybe an inch longer than I was and at least as thick. He reached out, took her hand and opened it, positioning her hand near the edge of the bed palm up. She let out a little gasp as he slapped his hardening cock into her open palm. Her free hand found her pussy as she closed around his cock and started to stroke him. I was still standing behind Mike. As a final move to put her at ease I let out a brief grunt as Mike was becoming fully engorged. It was an unspoken rule that I couldn't make any noise at all during our role playing, so as not to break the illusion. I tried to make it sound involuntary, but it was obviously my voice. She was obviously feeling comfortable as she spread her juices over her clit and around her pussy lips. When she sat up slightly so she could take him into her mouth I moved silently to the other side of the room and fired up the camera. She sucked him for a long time. As she took him deeper and sucked harder her legs spread wider. I had a great view of her soaked pussy with the camera and got some great close ups panning from her fingering herself to his cock sliding in and out of her lips. Finally he pulled away and grabbed her thighs, spreading her as wide as she could go. He peeled off his t-shirt and climbed onto the bed, on his knees between her legs. Her hands went to her breasts and she rubbed her nipples between her thumbs and middle fingers, one hand wet with her pussy juices, one wet with her saliva and Mike's precum. Mike surprised me by slapping her open pussy, just once, not too hard but I know it stung. Then she surprised me by not squealing or yelling, but letting out a long low guttural moan and digging her fingernails into her breasts, squeezing them harder than I'd be willing to. Her moan didn't stop, but became a feral growl. Mike positioned his knees and drove his cock into her all at once, with no preamble or warning. She gasped, arched her back, and reached up to his chest with one hand. Obviously she knows my body almost as well as I do. I had thought that when she started touching his body would be when she might finally realize what was going on. If she did, though, I saw no indications. She was lost in her lust. Mike was having a good time himself, and quickened his thrusts. She reached out, groping for his upper arms. When she found them she squeezed his biceps and drew him down until he was in a classic missionary. He never stopped pumping as he stretched his legs out and spread her thighs even farther. She dug her nails into his back and growled "Cum in me" in the same possessed voice. She grunted and wrapped her legs around his buttocks, drawing him deeper. I knew what she must be doing with her vaginal muscles at this point. It was one of her well-honed skills in bed. At this point I'd been an objective documentarian about as long as I could stand. I quietly put the camera down on a table and slid my sweatpants to my ankles. I started jacking off, waiting for her climax. Suddenly he pulled away from her, back onto his knees. He took her by the hips and virtually picked her up and spun her until she was on all fours sideways on the bed. That's right! I'd told him I want him to finish her from behind. He reentered her easily as she spread her knees and positioned herself. She sank down first onto her elbows, then onto her chest with her ass high and her arms splayed out on the bed. Tiny involuntary yelps came from her parted lips "Oh! Oh! Oh!" in time with his thrusts. Mike slapped her ass, hard, making her shake. I could tell she was close and I knew he must be too. I'd been edging ever since he'd flipped her over and was just waiting to spill my load in unison with their climax. Mike reached down and took her hair in his fist. He pulled her head back and up. Her mouth opened wide and she started her orgasm. I was past thinking, or caring about consequences. I hustled over to the side of the bed and jammed my throbbing dick into her open mouth as she peaked. Two things happened then at exactly the same time: Mike's eyes got wide as saucers when he saw what I'd done, then he closed them tight and stiffened and I knew he was filling up her pussy with cum. Second, my wife shrieked around my cock and reached up as if to pull off the blindfold. She stopped without removing it though, then shrieked again as her orgasm intensified even more. Her shriek was cut off when Mike shoved her head forward and my cock slid into her throat. She convulsed and started to shake all over with the power of her orgasm. I came almost immediately, unloading into her throat in yet another first for the night. I'd been edging, but I'd never seen her come that hard nor had I ever been as deep in her face. I would have lost it anyway. The three of us had an almost simultaneous post orgasm shudder, then just froze. It seemed like no one really knew what to do. His cock was filling her pussy and mine was still in her mouth, not softening at all. I pulled back enough to let her breathe again and then the only sound was her heavy breath in her nostrils. Finally Mike looked at me and I tipped my head toward the door. I took her head in my hands and held her firmly onto my cock, shoving it back down her throat and making sure the blindfold stayed in place while he pulled out with a long splatterey sound. As Mike quickly gathered his clothes and left the room I started pumping her mouth and throat again. She began to lick me inside her mouth and she came again, or maybe she'd never stopped. To my amazement I spasmed a few more times and added even more cum to her mouth. We finished our second orgasms and I collapsed across the bed beside her, our heads next to the other's knees. We lay like that for a long time, dazed. She turned on her side and I could see Mike's cum leaking across her thigh. I felt my cock twitch again, but I was exhausted. She slowly pulled up the blindfold, took it off, then smacked me with it on the arm. "You're amazing!" she said. "I never saw that coming." "Are you okay?" I asked. "I didn't ... You know, check with you about it." "You don't need my permission to cum in my mouth," she said with a grin. "I don't mean that. We just always talk before doing something new in the bedroom. And that was definitely new." "Oh, the throat fucking?" she said. "I'm actually glad you didn't ask, because I probably would have said no. I think you could tell I don't mind it after all." I sat up in he bed and looked into her eyes for a moment. "I'm talking about the other guy," I said. She looked back at me, a neutral expression on her face. I waited. "What other guy?" she finally asked. She held my stare, her face a blank mask. We stared at each other, my discomfort and confusion growing. Just as I was about to blurt out some sort of cathartic confession she batted her eyes, grinned, and said "Is there more wine? I feel like drinking naked." She hopped off the bed and I watched her cum-covered ass bounce out of the room. Stranger Things Have Happened It was nearly midday on my day off and I had yet to do even one constructive thing. I tried to write but nothing would come. I read new age magazines for inspiration, and still nothing came. I even bought Coldplay's new single Viva la Vida from ITunes, and listened to it over and over, letting the images flow in my head so that I could form a story or my next chapter from that. And I have come to the conclusion that I love their new song, without reserve. It carries me away and fills me with a sense of nostalgia and longing, makes me want to run through grassy meadows and laugh and play and rough house. But nothing came of it. Ye gads. The roses need pruning though. I love roses, even though for me, like most other people, roses inspire visions of old ladies who wear flowery nylon house dresses and large cane hats, and drink Earl Grey from rose covered tea cups on their patio in the afternoon, while they sat at their quaint little round wrought-iron chairs and tables that are only big enough for two - usually just them and their husbands, to whom they have been married to for forty years. Sometimes they sit alone, but, I'm sure that if I asked them, they'd say they had been married for decades before their partner - well - you know. I'm probably getting a bit morbid here. I try to distract my thoughts by letting my eyes settle on a rather mangy cosmetics catalogue that has been sitting out in the rain ever since it was left it on my outdoor table. I told the lady who delivers them that I don't want them, but she doesn't pay any attention. It's not that I don't like what she sells, I love it and I love the little catalogue too. I love the little samples and the book always smells so nice! It's just that if I smell it, I will end up with a migraine that usually takes days to get rid of and if I use the samples, my skin breaks out in a rash that looks more like a burn. Sometimes, when I feel like living on the edge, I rub my wrist on those little round fragrance things they have on the pages and I use the samples. It never ends well, so I won't go into it any further, other than to say that I'm allergic to just about everything, and not just the cosmetics catalogue. I'm allergic to food colouring, preservatives, fragrances, aerosols; even the chemicals that natural foods produce, like salicylates in bananas and amines in chocolate for example, and I have to say - or ask - how ridiculous is that? Honestly, the only compensation for suffering PMS every month was being able to drown my sorrows in chocolate! And you know what they say about eating chocolate; one kilogram produces enough of the exact same endorphins in the brain that having an orgasm does. That's it. Now I'm on a downer and it's not Coldplay's fault this time. It's the unwitting revelation that I am not privy to enjoy anything that will produce the spine tingling sensation in my spine that only chocolate or a man can give. Well, I can do it myself; I suppose, with necessity being the mother of invention and all that. I didn't invent the dildo sadly. It would be good if I did though. I would be so rich that there would definitely be a cure for food and chemical intolerance by now. Oh great, now I feel selfish. I'm obviously not one of those magnanimous people who shave their heads to find a cure for cancer or something as equally devastating to people's lives as that. I kind of like my waist length light brown curls too. At least, I do once I wring the spirals out of them with the straightening tongs. Instead of wanting to alleviate the suffering of my fellow man, I'm fantasising about spending billions of dollars on research so that I won't be allergic to chocolate and men any more. Woah! Le gasp! Did I say that? I'm allergic to men? Was that a Freudian slip? Or was that my subconscious latching on to what really ails me? Stranger things have happened, I suppose. No, surely not. A woman cannot be allergic to men! It's impossible. I mean, lots of people are allergic to preservatives and additives, but it's only now, forty years after they were introduced in the 1960s that the powers that be are starting to recognise it. Men, on the other hand, have been around since, well, since the ancestors of human kind first developed the ability to pinch their index fingers and their thumbs together. Apparently, that's all that separated human kind from our ape-ish kin. That solitary, small motor movement that enabled us to develop and use tools, which in turn, allowed us to eat things that expanded our brains and gave the process of our evolution a stiff dose of speed, equivalent to that of a can of Red Bull with a Borroca vitamin dissolved in it. Which, by the way, I am allergic to as well. So, human kind's ability to develop tools that expanded their brains resulted in the invention of the mighty dildo! I hope I didn't say that out loud. Still, that thought tickles me. The difference between apes and men comes down to the fact that mankind worship dicks so much that some bright spark thought to make an effigy of them! Like some ancient civilisation, we make idols venerating our gods. All hail the mighty phallus, hear hear! Unless of course, we are allergic to them, that is. No, that's ridiculous. There is no such thing as a cock allergy. - Just allergies to the beings they are attached to - NO! Shut up, inner dialogue! You've already taken all the fun out of my life. I'm firm on this one, there is no such thing as a cock allergy! Firm on the topic of cock allergies? Excuse the pun. Oh just shut up, seriously, you mad twat! "I beg your pardon?" Oh shit! I said that out loud! I forgot that there was a crew of tradesmen working for my elderly neighbour, Marge. They've been next door for the past week, repairing her fence after some stupid seventeen year old got drunk and decided to take his father's car for a joy ride while his parents were in Sydney on a business trip. At one in the morning, I heard a screech that sounded like a jet flying over head at telegraph pole height, and then a huge rumbling crash shook my house. I thought my roof was being torn off in a Tornado; the sound was so long and thundering and well, violent really. I took a calmative for my nerves and ever the civic minded individual, I ran out the front door to check for damage. My small courtyard was covered in a billowing cloud of dust and debris. Bricks were strewn everywhere, and the roots of Marge's rose bushes trembled feebly in the aftershock of being ripped so suddenly from the ground. The driver had completely taken out Marge's brick fence! A forlorn wheel rolled along the footpath and spun to a stop in my driveway. It looked as though I'd won a holiday in Iraq - after the invasion - and I stood amid the carnage in a petrified state of shock and awe. Marge was already outside, the picture of calm. Once she had established that the driver wasn't on death's bed, she proceeded to heap a mouthful of abuse on him with her thick, cutting Irish tongue. It was the goriest thing I have ever seen in my life. When I was an undergraduate, I studied the works of a feminist historian who claimed that the reason Australian men in the early 1900s had little or no respect for Australian women (and some would argue that nothing has changed much - not me of course, just some), was because the generation of colonial born in our sunburnt country from their convict parents, lacked the extended family network of their ancestors back in the old country. Namely, we didn't have the strong Irish grandmother to keep our wild colonial boys in check. To be truthful, even though I respected the Professors work incredibly, I thought that conclusion was a little simplistic. I take that thought back now, though, after watching our wild, drunken offender scramble into the safety of the Police's caged paddy wagon, just to escape from Marge's tirade of scolding. It was so brutal that those of us present without the stomach to cope had to turn away. Old Albert, the widower who lives on the opposite side of the street, ran to Marge's front yard as did most of us who live on King's Court Road. There, he kept us entertained in the wee hours with the entire history of the neighbourhood for the past forty years while Elsie, who lives two doors up, supplied the tea. Albert knows everything that has ever happened to anyone on this street, names, dates-the lot. He'd probably even know when preservatives were first introduced to the residents of our royally named road. At the ripe old age of seventy-two, he has a mind like a whip and the memory of an elephant. He can actually stick to a topic without running off on bizarre tangents that basically, really don't have much to do with anything at all - unlike me. He told those of us who were gathered around the toe-truck driver, who was removing the remains of what was once a beautiful black XR-8, that another drunk driver had done exactly the same thing that the modern version of the wild colonial boy had, only eight years earlier. Albert had looked pointedly at the thankfully uninjured youth in question as the police closed the back of their paddy wagon behind him, mainly to protect him from Marge. Although, we all thought that Marge could be the lesser of two evils, once the youth's father found out what he had done to his car. In the days that followed, once the stiff suited insurance assessors had evaluated the damage, Marge revealed to me with great pomp and splendour, standing on the top of the old milk crate that she used as a podium so she could converse with me over what remained of her fence while I hung my washing out, that the total bill of the damage that the boy had caused was over thirty thousand dollars. I gasped, much to her nodding self satisfaction. The kid was going to be dead meat when his father got his hands on him. Not to mention the courts. He was going to get done like a dog's dinner, as Albert would say. "Did you say something?" I jumped, startled. Oh that's right; someone spoke to me because I said something out loud. I couldn't even remember what it was. I hoped it wasn't embarrassing but knowing me and how boring I can be, it was probably about the colour of this season's new variety of rose anyway, which had been developed to celebrate some distant royal in some far away country that I would probably never get the chance to see. I'd probably be allergic to it. "Missus?" I blinked. A man was peering at me over the fence. My hand flew reflexively to my throat, but thankfully, I still had the presence of mind to stop it before it pinched my nostrils closed - ever conscious of an allergic reaction as I am. It probably would have been a bit rude, as though I thought the man stunk or something. He didn't smell, well, he did smell, but like deodorant, not sweat...even though he was sweating. So much so that I could see his sun bleached hair was darker underneath where it was wet. His face was covered in a layer of cement dust and it looked as though his hair had been plastered to his forehead at some stage, and he had swiped it away with the back of his filthy hand. Despite the ghostly coating of building dust that he sported, only a blind person wouldn't be able to see that he was stunningly gorgeous. He lifted his heavy brow, looked pointedly at me with the most amazing aqua coloured eyes I have ever seen, and nodded his head slowly as though to encourage me to answer. I blinked again, because I'm such a colourful personality and not boring in the slightest…I felt a migraine coming on. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and my index finger to ward it off. See? I'm interesting. I can find new and creative ways to use the simple movement that lifted our species from the squalor of ape-dom! He snorted and looked at me as though I was an idiot. He was probably right. "Uh. Okay... Sorry to disturb you. I thought you said something." He said in a tone of voice that clearly implied that he thought I was loopy. Say something you rude woman! Like what? I don't know! Ask him if he wants a cup of tea or something. He is a concreter, and everyone knows that tradies don't drink bloody tea, they drink beer! Then offer him beer! I don't drink beer! I'm allergic to it! And you know that! What bloody good is an inner voice that doesn't know jack shit? The hunk ...I mean... the man, disappeared from my sight behind Marge's six foot high fence, but not before I saw he was wearing no shirt and had the broadest shoulders I had seen in a very long time, if ever. Not that I had ever seen that many. Albert tended to always wear a white singlet under his button-up cotton shirts, thank God. The appreciative groan that had been welling in my throat, died instantly at the thought of Albert sans shirt, and it crawled back to the dark pits from whence it had come. I bit my lip with frustration and flapped my hands so frantically under my wrought iron table that my rose patterned tea-cup of Earl Grey jiggled and sloshed onto the matching saucer. It was hot and it spilled over my thumb, scalding it when I picked up the silver teaspoon it had spilled into. I popped my finger into my mouth to cool it. It bloody well hurt! At least the pain had taken my mind off the 'man', his shoulders and my complete lack of personality. I felt a warm fat body rub against my legs, followed by the sensation of said warm, fat body purring. I could think of other warm fat things and the wobbly knee sensations they would give me. Yeah, like that's gonna happen. "Hello Heathcliff." I said, reaching down to stroke his thick golden fur. I smiled, even though I was frustrated and depressed. My cat always made me smile, he was such a wimp. He was constantly getting stuck on the roof and meowed like crazy until I rescued him, but at least he was beautiful. "Nice cat." Said a voice that made my knees go wobbly - eep! I hadn't expected that. I blinked and swallowed hard. The man was back! I felt a sudden urge to go to the toilet… I cleared my throat. "Um. Yes, he is lovely." Ohhhh well done, Miss Personality! I tried to smile but when I looked at the offending man, leaning over a part of the broken fence, and saw him smiling at me and my cat with those amazing aqua eyes, well, let's just say that it's lucky that Heathcliff sensed he was in danger of being dropped! He dug his claws through the thin cotton of my dress to save himself, and they pierced the tender skin of my stomach… "Ow!" I screeched, and promptly dropped the bundle of golden fur. Oops! Maybe it wasn't so lucky…Heathcliff glared at me and scooted toward the driveway and under my car. No doubt he was going to hide in his favourite spot, on top of the tire under the wheel arch. I hate it that he likes to sleep there, and I live in constant fear of running him over. I clicked my tongue and made a sound I could only achieve when I was unconsciously expressing regret and exasperation at the same time. I was regretful that I'd dropped my cat, and exasperated as well because I knew he would now hide from me in the hardest to reach places until he deemed I had been sufficiently punished. Damn. I buried my hands in my hair to keep it from blowing all over my face. I usually tie it back but I'd just washed it and if I didn't leave it down to dry, it stayed wet and made my head itchy. "He'll make you pay for that." The man said in a low rumbling voice that made my bones feel like jelly. I turned suddenly to face him, and was painfully aware that it was obvious to all who saw that he had startled me. In all honesty, I'd forgotten he was there in the face of my feline dramas, but there he was! In all of his sun-kissed, aqua-eyed glory, leaning over Marge's fence and staring directly at my tits, which were jutting out proudly because of the position my arms were in. My tits! Remembering the small but horrifying fact that I hadn't put a bra on after showering, stunned me from the dangerous moment where I'd nearly lost myself in adoration of He Who Held the Sacred Penis. I dropped my arms from my hair and crossed them over my chest. My cheeks heat immediately after. I couldn't tell if I was mortified more because I had caught him staring at my braless chest, or because I had crossed my arms over myself so obviously that it made him uncomfortable, as though he'd been caught perving, which really, he had. I bit my lip, trying to distract my hardening nipples with pain, to stop them from poking out to say hello to the man who'd summoned them like some evil magician. I really needed to go to the toilet now. No, I just wanted to get inside and close my door behind me, any excuse would do. In fact, I wanted it so bad that it was all I could do not to start crying. What the hell? Inner dialogue! Stop sulking and talk to me! Quick, run inside! Great help you are. "You alright?" The man asked. "Did he scratch you?" I nodded and headed for my door, mumbling, "Yes, but I'm fine, thanks." "Are you sure?" Stop you crazy woman, and answer him like a normal person for the love of chocolate! I stopped. I'd already angered my cat. I didn't want to piss my inner voice off too. "Yes, I'm fine." I forced myself to look at him while I answered, "It's just that my cat does stupid things when he gets cranky." The man laughed and the sound sent shivers all over my back. Maybe it was just my spine but I couldn't be sure because sensations I'd never felt before were jarring over my entire body. I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me. My head was swimming and I was having palpitations. "Birmans are like that." He said, conversationally. I looked at him sharply, surprised. "Yes, they are, and he is especially bad I think but don't quote me on that. I've never had a Birman before. I think it mustn't be all that common a breed because most people correct me when I say he is a Birman, and say 'don't you mean Burmese'? I'm surprised you …even...know the breed…" Yay, first you say nothing to him and then you don't shut up! I ended abruptly and looked down at my hands to hide the red I just knew my face would be. I wish I had olive skin like the rest of my family, who looked like bronzed gods straight from a book on Athenian art and rarely blushed. I was the only one who inherited pink toned skin - probably because I was a 'change of life babe' and had thrown back to some distant relative. And, as my family delighted in telling me, my fair skin was…well, it was just un-Australian! Ramble ramble, focus woman! "My ex bred them, Birmans that is." The man said, not seeming to have noticed my complete lack of social graces. "Let me know if he gets himself stranded somewhere you can't reach and I'll come grab him for you." I looked up at him and blinked my surprise. "Oh okay. Thanks…?" He winked at me and smiled. His berry coloured lips pulled back against startlingly white, straight teeth. He looked liked a surfer, how they have that beautiful bronze skin that really makes their teeth stand out. I suppose it wouldn't matter even if their teeth were really yellow, all that sun and salt water would probably bleach them to magazine model whiteness. His teeth looked like that and for a moment, his smile even outshone his amazingly unusual eyes which I couldn't help but notice had the thickest, blackest lashes that I have ever seen on a man or a woman. They made his eyes look even more sea-green, or ocean-blue. I'm not really sure what the correct name is for the colour. I usually just call it aqua -