Shape

The Perfect Stranger

I needed, in that moment, to have him inside me. Positively required it. I was throbbing for him. Quivering, even. And still I waited. I couldn’t tell what he was doing back there. The blindfold didn’t really help, if I’m being honest. It was part of the game, though. Not knowing. He really could have been anywhere in the room at that point. Ready to put any number of toys or devices inside me. But I wanted him. Specifically, his dick. I wanted his relatively massive cock, and I wanted it as deep inside me as he could get it to go. I could almost feel his tip, teasing my lips, I wanted it so bad. I would have asked him for it, but that was against the rules. And anyway, my mouth was full.

I felt a finger trace its way down my thigh, and my whole body stood at attention as a result. I was so wet, it felt like a legit gallon of my invitational juices must have been practically pouring out of me. When the time did come, I knew he’d slide in easily, like he’d always been there. Belonged there. I was wetter than I had maybe ever been, and I could feel myself getting still wetter.

And yet, nothing inside me. Until…something warm. Something warm and soft. He was eating me from behind, two hands firmly grabbing my cheeks and then moving up to grip my hips tight, pulling my ass even harder against his face. I could feel his tongue working against my wet lips, tickling the area and generally making me way wetter than I had previously thought it was possible to be. If there was a ladycum shortage in the world, at that moment, I was responsible for it. I reached back, seeking, my hand blindly fumbling around for his hardness, but he slapped it away. There were no words; I simply understood. It was not time to touch, it was time to be touched. I obeyed, and he continued eating, my back arching itself as each of my muscles tightened. I was about to come. I could feel it. My body began to quiver and shake, all of the tell-tale signs of impending orgasm starting to gradually make themselves known. I buried my face hard in the pillows and sheets, in what was almost certainly a completely futile effort at staying quiet. There could be no noises, that was part of the game. The agreement. The rules. And yet, my vocal cords strained in my throat, the pleasure in my pussy growing past the point at which I could contain it. I could feel his tongue working between my lips, flicking against my clit and sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout every single fiber that I had inside me. He sucked on me, pulling my clit into his mouth and licking me fully, kissing me with his entire mouth and teasing my borders with the tip of his tongue. He was a master at this kind of thing, and my entire body was a trembling mass. He waited. Did it on purpose. I’m sure of it. He brought me right up to the edge, stood me on the cliff overlooking the world’s greatest orgasm, and he held me there, waiting and ready to be pushed. I was literal seconds away from coming when…it stopped. It all just stopped, and suddenly, where his mouth had been a second ago, there was now nothing. My body was like a too-dry sponge, waiting and begging, needing to feel sated but teetering, in that moment, on the edge of a cliff of desire. 

And then I felt it. It slid into me as deep as I had been hoping…if not deeper. That incredible thickness. That tremendous girth. Every single inch of that massive meat stick barreled into me, without warning. I couldn’t stop myself — a tiny little scream of pleasure peeled itself out of my throat and burrowed itself deep into the pillows and bedsheets that threatened to suffocate me. In response, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking back hard. I growled with pleasure, tightening around his incredibly hard cock, squeezing myself down on him, wanting to milk the cum out of him and feel every possible inch, crack, and crevice of me completely filled, overflowing and sticky with his essence. I reached back to dig my fingers into my thigh as he fucked me, and he allowed it. His enormous cock slid in and out of me, my wetness guiding him and growing with each thrust. You could hear him fucking me, my wetness beckoning him back inside, every time he began to pull out. He leaned over me, his breath hot on my back, and our bodies felt connected in that moment. He bit my shoulder, as I grabbed harder into his thigh, digging my fingers into the taut flesh as his muscles worked to fuck me deeper and harder. We came at the same time, both of us pulsing and throbbing inside each other. I could feel his cum inside me. Could feel him filling me up as his cock expanded and contracted within my incredibly tight grip, my own lips squeezing him, milking him, coaxing every last instance of pleasure and desire out of his body and into mine. 

It was at this point that I was brought more or less crashing back into reality, realizing that my kid’s teacher had been talking to me, and was looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. “Oh! I, ummm. Yeah. I agree. I absolutely agree.” I looked over at Gary, and then back to our six-year-old’s teacher, hoping my face wasn’t anywhere near as red as it felt. They both looked as confused, and I clearly had not picked the right answer for whatever question had been asked of me. Thankfully Gary took the wheel, giving me a moment to collect myself and hope that nobody had noticed how much my breath had quickened in the last few minutes. “We really appreciate you taking the time to sit down with us like this. I’m sure you’ll let us know if you need anything else right?” The ride home was a slightly awkward one. “What happened to you back there? Everything OK?” Gary was an attentive husband, always paying attention and ready with a concerned question if he noticed a change in my mood. I didn’t really know how to tell him about this one, though. I didn’t think that “Sorry, I was imagining getting my ass eaten and then also my brains fucked all the way out during that parent-teacher conference” would be an acceptable excuse, so I settled on some vagaries. I didn’t want him to feel bad. But there it was. I wasn’t sure what else to do. We got home, and our Tuesday evening basically went about the same as just about any other Tuesday evening. Three whole kids weren’t going to take care of themselves (despite the fact that I had dreamed of this being the case over and over again). Dinner had to be made. Lunches had to be prepared and packed. Showers had to be supervised. TV time had to be limited. And so on and so forth. It would be hours before the kids went to bed. All this being true, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. Ours was a happy home, full of life and pretty much overflowing with familial affection. We all cared about each other deeply, and quite frankly, the weeknight routine was one that I enjoyed, if only for its predictability. But even that could get stale, from time to time. On this particular Tuesday night, I had just finished with a bath and was making my way down the hallway, getting ready to check on one of the other kids. I could hear one in the TV room and the others in their bedroom, plus a set of footsteps rapidly coming up behind me, there in the hall. Before I could even turn around to see who it was, I found myself pinned against the wall, my face pressed up next to some family pictures from last year’s trip to the beach. “Shhhh” Gary’s hiss was hot against my ear. “They’ll hear.” I breathed, hard, pressed against the wall. His hand gripped the back of my neck tight, and I couldn’t move. I loved it. He slid a finger gently up the inside of my thigh, passing the border of my skirt and tracing along the hem of my underwear. I shuddered, and his grip tightened on the back of my neck. My eyes closed as he slid one finger under the edge of my panties, dipping it inside me, shallow and tempting. I exhaled, hard. He pushed his finger in harder and I struggled to keep any sound from leaving my mouth. My eyes darted to the left and the right, hoping no kids were about to make their way around the corner while also fully aware that the threat of said kids coming around a corner was exactly what made me as wet as I had suddenly found myself. I wanted him. Wanted him to rip my clothes off, spread me open wide, and fuck me halfway to Kansas right there in the hallway, kids be goddamned.

He didn’t, though. He slid a finger deeper inside me, before slowly and deliberately pulling it out. And then he was gone. I was suddenly alone in the hallway, breathing heavy and collecting myself. A few hours later and I was ready for my little night out. Sure, Tuesday was home to lots of ready-getting, lunch-making, and general kid-wrangling of all sorts. But it was also my Movie Night. Most Tuesdays, I liked to dip out after the kids were in bed, and catch a movie at the mall nearby. And when it comes to movies? I don’t really give a shit. I’ll sit through just about anything, and I love them all the same. If I’m being honest, most Tuesdays, my main criteria for what movie I’d see where a) something that looks good, and b) something that starts soon. Those two conditions having been met, I found myself wandering through the familiar old Del Amo mall yet again, letting the crowds of people wash over me. I felt like a fish swimming upstream in places like this, but it was always wonderful to get out of the house. I found my seat with little to no difficulty, and it was while I sat and waited for the previews to come up that someone sat down immediately next to me. Keep in mind: The theater wasn’t a full one. Quite the opposite, actually. It was mostly empty. The choice to sit smack in the seat next to mine was a pretty conspicuous one, and my pulse quickened when I looked over and noticed how handsome the man sitting next to me was. Dress shirt unbuttoned to just the right amount, I could see well-toned muscles below nicely bronzed skin. I’m not going to lie to you, I wanted to kiss it. I wanted to taste that skin, and I wanted that skin all over every single inch of my body. I took a deep breath, and tried to focus on the previews. But I couldn’t. I kept thinking about his skin. How smooth it must be, and how he would have smelled if he were hovered over me and thrusting himself into me, the cords in his chest standing out under his skin as he held himself up. At one point, our arms touched each other on the arm rest between our seats. No words were exchanged at that point (the movie had long since started), but the eye contact. Hoooo boy, the eye contact. In that moment, the movie stopped playing. The rest of the movie theater stopped existing. The Del Amo mall stopped existing. Nothing existed, in that moment, except for the two of us, locked and staring deep into each other’s eyes. The term “eye fucking” was pretty much for moments like this. And if the person who invented that term could have seen the eye contact we were making, they probably would have made a mess in their pants. We were practically living in each other’s eyes, and I had to physically work to actually tear myself away from his gaze. I’m sure he noticed the little smile that had crept onto my lips before that happened, though. In fact, I’m positive he noticed, because from behind me, I felt a hand on my upper arm as I was walking out of the theater. It was a gentle one, and I turned around to see my seatmate smiling at me kind of sheepishly, clearly a little embarrassed and more than just slightly nervous. “I’m sorry. This is weird. I know this is a little weird, but…” He was straight up stammering, and it was adorable. “Out with it!” I said to him, playfully. He laughed, about two notches louder than he should have, and again looked embarrassed. “Okay,” he said. “Would you want to maybe grab a drink? I just…it’d be nice to have someone to talk about the movie with?” I studied him for a second, not even bothering to hide the fact that I was blatantly looking him up and down. “I’ll get a drink with you,” I said, teasing him by drawing out my thoughtful decision. “We can go to Rock Sugar, just over there. But. Full disclosure: I’m married.” I held up my hand, clearly displaying my ring finger. His eyes actually brightened at this: “Hey, so am I! I suppose this will be kept on the down-low for the both of us, then.” 

So we walked over to the nearby mall restaurant, a tacky spot boasting all kinds of Americanized “Asian fusion” cuisine, whose practically-lethal sugar content you could just about smell coming off the plates as they were carried past us. I ordered my usual cocktail, while my new friend got himself a whiskey sour. For a second, I recalled Gary, ordering his favorite whiskey sour just about any time we went anywhere. “Hah!” I laughed out loud before I could catch myself, “That’s just like…” But I looked up and was met by a pair of wide, questioning eyes. As if to say I was under the impression we wouldn’t get into anything too personal?  It was a fair point, unspoken though it may have been. “Nevermind,” I corrected. “So are you in town for long, or just passing through?” All I had gotten out of him was that he worked in finance; he was understandably cagey about the rest. I wondered if his wife at home was a jealous one. By the look of him, maybe she should have been. I found myself once again wondering if he fucked like the racehorse he appeared to be. Of course, that first drink turned into a third and a fourth, and I could feel myself being propelled closer and closer to an answer. Eventually, he just went for it: “Listen, this is probably not something I should do. And if you say no, that’s perfectly OK. No hard feelings, we’ll just go our separate ways. But. I’m staying in a hotel just down the street from here, and if you want to come back with me…” For this part, he leaned in close, whispering hotly into my ear: “I wouldn’t mind fucking the absolute bejesus out of you until neither of us can move anymore.” I was up and out of my chair, purse in hand, before he even finished his sentence. For a second, he looked taken aback, and I could tell that he wasn’t sure if my reaction was one of eagerness or revulsion. 

I motioned to him with a playful kind of mock impatience, “Lead the way, mister! I haven’t got all night.” And lead the way, he did. He took me by the hand and practically pulled me down the street. The night air was hot and a soft breeze worked its way up and under my skirt, in between the buttons of my blouse, alighting on my skin and making my body feel sensitive and ready. My god, did I want him. I couldn’t take my eyes off his legs and butt as he made his way up the stairs in front of me: Whatever he did in his spare time, it was paying off. His body was taut and corded, sinewed and toned underneath his fashionably-fitted outfit. “It’s just up here. Number 304,” he motioned to the door as we walked down the hallway before making ourselves into his room.  He didn’t even bother offering me a drink. He let me in, closed the door behind us, and walked briskly up to me. Without stopping, his face collided with mine, kissing me hard and full on my mouth. I fell back onto the bed, and our limbs tangled there, our hips rising to meet each other’s, grinding together as we rolled around on his large hotel bed. I could feel him, firm through his pants and pressed against me through my skirt. I reached down and massaged him, feeling him get harder and harder in response to my touch. After a moment, he grabbed my wrist. Looking into my eyes as he hovered above me, he slowly brought it up and pinned it hard against the pillow above my head. I closed my eyes. After a moment, he stopped. “Y’know, I don’t have a–” I didn’t let him finish. “Fuck me,” I said. “Fuck me right now.” He soon obliged. I kept my eyes closed as he kissed his way down my belly, lifting my shirt and sliding his hands under my bra as he did so. The pointed tip of his tongue ran circles around my belly button as he pinched and squeezed my nipples. I was getting wetter by the second, and resisted the urge to slide my free hand down and begin fingering myself. Luckily, he did that for me, spreading me open and pushing two of his fingers deep inside me while he kissed my hips. Eventually his mouth made its way down to my clit, joining his fingers. He sucked on me, pulling me into his mouth as he worked his fingers up into my pussy and I felt just about ready to burst. My back was arching, fists balling up full of bedsheet and pillow as he traced every word in the English dictionary on my vulva. Eventually, his hand moved up my chest, fingers wrapping themselves around my throat. I breathed in deep, my body tightening and begging to feel his inside it. I hissed at him, “Fuck me NOW,” but the last word wound up dragged out and mixed with a high-pitched gasp as I felt myself filled with his cock. It was bigger than I had anticipated, and I felt myself strain to accommodate him. My eyes were wide and he looked into them. “You feel so good,” he whispered to me. He began sliding in and out, and my body practically exploded with every centimeter of motion. He pushed himself deeper and deeper inside me with every thrust, and before long our hips were locked in rhythmic concert, fucking each other deeply and passionately. “Tighter,” I said to him. He tightened his hand around my throat, and I rocked my head back, letting the pleasure and restriction mingle, forming an incredible alchemy that build deep inside me. “Keep going,” I instructed him. “I’m going to come.” He kept thrusting, and I could feel an orgasm building, deep inside my muscles. I grabbed his butt, gripping it hard and fueling the momentum behind his hips. “Keep going,” I instructed. He pushed inside me, harder and faster, and I could feel my body building. Eventually, he breathed into my ear, “I’m gonna come, too.” I gripped him tighter, pulling me into me. He was unsure: “Do you want me to…” I opened my eyes and looked deep into his. “Come inside me,” I said as he fucked me even harder, and kissed him. Our tongues explored each others throats while his cock plumbed the deepest depths of my pussy. I could feel my juices spilling out and around him, as our momentum built, our hips conducting an absolute concert of pleasure there in that hotel room. 

We both came at the same time. I could feel my pussy clenching around his incredible cock as he filled me up with his cum, pumping it inside me, both of us drowning in passion and the sound of our intermingled moans. We held each other tight as our bodies came, hard, both of us shuddering and convulsing, wrapped in and around and throughout each other in ways that can barely be described. As we both finished, he laid on top of me for a moment, breathing hard into my neck. I traced one finger on the smooth, rippling skin of his back while another wound its way through his soft hair. I could still feel him inside me. I felt full and warm and it was wonderful. Eventually, he moved from me, an involuntary gasp issuing from my throat as his still-fat cock slid out from between my hot and tingling lips. He kissed me, long and deep, his hands hands on either side of my face, fingers in my hair. “I love you,” he said to me then. I looked at him back. “I love you, too.” 

And then I got dressed, and I left. I walked out of the hotel and stood there, on the curb, fiddling with my phone and then waiting for a Lyft to come and pick me up. My body still tingled, and I could practically feel his cock, still inside me. I was more than just a little bit wet, and it exhilarated me. My car was only minutes away, when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, and my heart jumped. It was Gary. “Hey, sweetie.” He walked up to me and kissed me on the lips. “You get into anything fun tonight?” He was still sweating a little, his clothes rumpled from not having even gotten to the point of taking them off. “Oh, you know,” I said to him. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Met someone interesting.” “Well, what do you know, me too! Saw a movie had a drink. Nothing too crazy.” I pulled him close to me. “Nothing too crazy at all, I bet.” I messed his hair up even more. “Wanna share a ride?” He pretended to think about it for a second. “Sure. But only if you promise we can do this again sometime.” I held the door open for him. “If you’re lucky.”