The Stranger and I

pj38

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When it started, I think I just looked at him. But there was something compelling about his eyes that made me want to follow him. Now I am his emotional prisoner. I can only wait for him to strike--it's all I live for, all I want. Sometimes he takes me by surprise, almost forcibly, always quick, agressive, anonymous. Sometimes he leaves messages with instructions of things to do. I have no idea who he is or what he wants with me or why he so commands my emotions.

I'm Carolyn Flanders, age 32, attractive, popular. I work in the Nelson Office Tower, 17th floor. I live alone in a first-floor apartment just off of Greenwood Park. I enjoy reading, movies, walks. Ocassionally I go out on dates but with no one regular at the moment. I am just a normal, well-adjusted woman--or at least I was before the day he walked up to my desk. We had what I thought was an innocent conversation that ended when he walked away. But little did I know....
 
We had what I thought was an innocent conversation that ended when he walked away. But little did I know....[/QUOTE]

Carolyn was puzzled by the envelope she found on her desk when she arrived at work the next morning. Her name was hand-written on the front. She'd arrived early and hadn't seen anyone unusual on her way up.

Carolyn sat and slit open the flap, unfolding the handwritten... unsigned... note within:

Carolyn, You'll meet me at the Cafe on 8th and Taylor at 12:30. Booth in the back.
 
Carolyn - Thursday

I tucked the note back in the envelope and tossed it briskly in the trash.

At 10:15 I dug through the trash, pulled out the note, and dialed security. This could be a stalker, I thought, and I'd better establish a record of complaints.

After the second ring I hung up. It was probably a mistake, meant for someone else. No, it had my name on it. Maybe there was someone else named Carolyn--this was a big building. I sat it on the edge of the desk.

At 11:25 the office mail came by, and I asked if they knew anything about the note. "No, you might want to ask security though." I thank them, looked at the phone, and stuffed the envelope in my purse.

At 12:15 I left for lunch, headed for the Golden Lion where the Thursday lunch group always meets. I passed Taylor Street, continued half way down the block, then stopped. I could at least go there, and if it was meant for someone else, I could get it to the right "Carolyn."

I found the cafe, and went in and looked around. There was an empty booth far in the back, and I walked back to it and sat down, facing out toward the door.

The waiter came, and I asked if anyone had been there looking for "Carolyn," but he said no one had been there. Ten minutes passed, then ten more. I took out the note from my purse. "8th and Taylor" it said--this was the only cafe near that corner. Another ten minutes passed, so I ordered takeout and headed back to the office. When I got to my desk, there was another envelope on it just like the first one.
 
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When I got to my desk, there was another envelope on it just like the first one.


This one read...

My Carolyn,
Do you think me cruel for standing you up? I'll have to live with that for now. In time, though, my dear, you'll find that complying with my requests is more productive than questioning them.

That said, I was delighted - though not surprised - to see that your curiousity won out over caution. It's important to have adventure in our lives.

You'll find there's a key enclosed in this envelope. The motel's address is on the tag attached. It's a bit off the beaten track, as I do prize discretion.

Will I be there tonight at 9 p.m.? We shall see.
Will you? Absolutely.

--An admirer

p.s. Your perfume is exquisite. I hope you'll be wearing it for me this evening.
 
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Carolyn

Whatever force had compelled me to turn around toward Taylor St still had me in its grip. I stuffed the new envelope into my purse. Whoever wrote these notes had obviously been around me in close proximity. Because I had no idea who it was, he seemed at once everywhere and nowhere, around every corner, behind every door.

I spent the day in anxious concern, took the bus home, and fixed dinner but didn't eat much. Every clock in my apartment seemed to be looking at me, reminding me of what was inevitable. At 8:00 I began a note detailing my plans for the night, just in case I needed to be found later. At 8:35 I put on my coat, walked to the door, but stopped before I went out. I went back to the bedroom and dabbed perfume on my neck, cursing myself for not resisting this detail.

Then I got in the car and drove to the motel. I drove around the parking lot, finding the room number that matched the key. I parked and got out, and went to the door, my hands trembling, my stomach churning with fear. I turned the key, pushed open the door, and went in.
 
I turned the key, pushed open the door, and went in.[/QUOTE]

Carolyn flicked on the lights and looked around. She eased her way in, wondering if I was there. No. No one. Relieved? Disappointed? She wasn't sure.

As she'd surmised from the part of town the motel was in... and the bleak, decrepit exterior, the inside was cheap, tawdry - just a bed with a cloth cover, a crappy table lamp... a telephone.

The ring pierced the silence, as harsh as the glare from the fluorescent bulb. Carolyn's breath caught in her throat. It rang again... beckoning her, frightening her, mocking her. It wouldn't stop she knew, nor could she exit the room, get back in her car and drive to the safety of her apartment.

"Hello," she barely managed, her throat dry, voice trembling.

"Number 1. Draw the blinds. Number 2. Turn off the lights. Number 3. Drop to your hands and knees at the foot of the bed with your legs spread."
The line went dead and the dial tone droned in her ear.
 
Carolyn - Thursday night

"Wait! Who........what.......?" The line went dead, then the dial tone screamed its indifference to my pleas.

I stood there, still gripping the key, my knuckles white and tense. The cheap-sex smell of the room wafted into my nostrils. It had been a man's voice, ordering me to do something I knew was humiliating, maybe dangerous. Why didn't I leave? Something was making me want to be treated this way, something I didn't understand, even about myself. All I seemed to know was how to follow the voice.

I walked to the window, drew the blinds, and then switched off the light. I laid my coat on the chair and walked to the bed. I crawled onto the bed, hiking up my skirt so I could spread my legs. The air felt cool against my bare legs and my...my damp panties...why was this getting me aroused? I leaned forward onto my hands. Why was I doing this?

I thought about the cafe, how I'd waited for a half-hour for nothing. I watched the numbers on the clock change to 9:04. It was dark. Quiet. 9:05. More stillness. 9:06. Lights moved across the window. A car pulled into a parking spot in an adjacent room. The door slammed, and footsteps clicked down the sidewalk. My stomach tightened. 9:07. Stillness. Deafening quiet. Raw fear knifing through the air. 9:08.
 
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I thought about the cafe, how I'd waited for a half-hour for nothing. I watched the numbers on the clock change to 9:04. It was dark. Quiet.[/QUOTE]

9:09... 9:17... Time for Carolyn's thoughts, doubts, fears, desires to mingle and combine... a dark emotional marinade...9:23...

The key turns in the lock... the door creaks open... heavy footsteps on the cheap, crappy carpeting. The door closes. The footsteps approach and stop where she waits on all fours.

She feels me bending over... hears me inhaling deeply the scent of the perfume I'd had her apply.

"Good girl."

A coat is laid on the bed...keys thrown on top with a muffled clatter. The room is black but I sense Carolyn's body trembling beneath me as I move between her feet.

A hand at her crotch now...palm pressed flat against her hot, damp pussy, spread as I'd instructed.

"Oh my," I chide her. I hear her struggle for words, but cut her off. "You're not to speak, Carolyn. Not tonight. But by meeting me here, you've said so much."

I seize the moist silk fabric of her bikini panties in my fist and yank them sharply. They split with a harsh staccato rip that fills the room. And now the tattered scraps are fed into Carolyn's mouth.

Belt open, zipper down - the hard and thick cock shoved roughly into her dripping, swollen cunt. My hands mawl her tits, tear open the top of the dress and fine lace brassiere. Pulling her tits and pinching her nipples, drawing her back toward my urgent thrusts.

The dark air resounds with my grunts, my panting and the rhythmic sloshing of our fuck. I feel her yield to my penetration, arch into it; I feel her need.

Withdrawing at my release, I splatter Carolyn's splendid rear and thighs with a shower of hot thick cum.

Zipper up, belt clasped. I pick my jacket off the bed and pocket my keys. Footsteps retreat to the door. And now the lights explodes into the room, finding Carolyn on the floor at the foot of the bed - used, spent, clothing torn.

She turns and looks through a shock of dissheveled hair to meet the Stranger's gaze before he slips out the motel door.

Finally pulling herself to her feet, Carolyn spots yet another envelope laid out on the bed.

Opening it, she finds a note and an envelope addressed to a post office box.

"Enclose copies of your apartment keys. Postmarked by tomorrow."
 
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Carolyn

Still bent forward from the assault, I continued whimpering quietly. I was so frightened, but he was gone now and I was still alive.

I watched the clock turn over to 9:31. He had been here, well, it must have been only about seven minutes. Seven horrible minutes. But why had I made it so easy for him?

The first thing I did was pull the cloth from my mouth. Then I began taking stock of my body. My pussy ached, but not exactly from pain. I felt the coolness of the air on the wet fluids on my bare ass, and remembered he had cum on me. I reached for a tissue, and cleaned myself as best I could. But I found my hand was smearing it around--I was as much intrigued as repulsed by him. I ran my fingers over my wet, tender outer lips, and noted that they didn't hurt as I thought they might.

When I got cleaned up, I left the motel room and drove home. The envelope was in my purse and on my mind. When I got home, I took my spare keys and put them in the envelope. I went back to the car, drove to the main post office, and deposited the envelope in the box that would guarantee the postmark before midnight. God, I hated myself for that. More than anything I'd done, getting the envelope in the mail was almost the most demeaning. I returned home, and slept fitfully that night.

At work the next day, Friday, my friend Matt called to invite me to dinner. I put him off, I just couldn't manage going out with him after what had happened the day before. After work, I took the bus home, fixed dinner, and sat and ate, my thoughts on the mysterious changes in my life. I thought that night I would just curl up with a book, and try to sort things out in my mind.
 
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Carolyn - Saturday

Saturday Matt called again, and this time I couldn't say no. He picked me up and we had dinner at a restaurant not far from my apartment. I had gone out with Matt only occasionally and we had never been intimate. Tonight I was getting strong signals from him. When we got back to my apartment, I invited him in. We watched television for a while, and he began fondling and carressing me. I was unresponsive, almost listless, but I didn't want to disappoint him. I turned off the TV, led him to my bed, and let him make love to me. After he finished, I made some excuse and asked him to leave.

The truth was it was all rather disappointing. I had anticipated sleeping with Matt for some time, and never expected him to be so clumsy and indecisive. Was it really him though, or had I changed? When he left I turned off the lights and went to bed. I mused about this until finally sleep overtook me.
 
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Sunday morning

Carolyn slept fitfully that night and arose about 7:30. Peeling her nightgown off she stumbled toward the shower, lingering under the hot spray, distracted, no doubt, and hoping it might revive her from her restless night.

She wrapped herself in her towel and made her way through the living room toward the kitchen to fix coffee. That's when she saw me.

She stopped on the bare wood floor, dripping, hair matted. Silent as I rose from the sofa. Silent as I crossed the room toward her. In her eyes, I watched her mind ask and answer the question silently. "What is he doing here?"/"I sent him the keys."

I would answer Carolyn's next question myself. "Get on your knees."

She hesitated, but my continued steady advance toward her registered as insistence. Carolyn lowered her gaze and then gracefully lowered herself to her knees. She would watch my shoes as I stopped in front of her. Reaching down, I tugged on the towel that she'd tucked close atop her breasts. I watched it peel back over her damp skin, revealing her splendid curves, her tits like firm ripe pears, the nipples pink and hard in the cool air.

I unhitched my belt and slid my zipper down, freeing my cock from briefs. Then, with the tips of my outstretched fingers, I brought Carolyn's chin up to look at me.

"Show me how a whore sucks."

And I fed my stiff thick penis into her mouth, controlling the rhythm at first with my fist in her hair. But then as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the act, I felt her need and abandon overtake her. Carolyn sucked with desire, with reverence, responding to my pleasure. Drawing me in deep, then pulling back to lick and suck my fat, round knob.

"I know you didn't suck Matt like this," I told her, stroking her hair now...

Before my climax overtook me, I warned her... "Take my cum, darling. But don't swallow it,". Then I pumped hard and long into her mouth, sliding myself from her lips. A trickle of my semen escaped Carolyn's mouth and ran down her chin

I drew my underwear and pants back over my slick, spent dick and buckled my belt.

"Keep my cum in your mouth until I get back," I instructed before I crossed the room and exited Carolyn's apartment.
 
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Carolyn

"Show me how a whore sucks." How strange that it felt so good to hear that. How strange to be so clean from the shower, and to want his cum so desperately. When he held my hair and shoved his dick in my mouth, my pussy had quivered with excitement. God, what was happening to me? What emotions were making me his captive?

I sat there on the hard living room floor, naked, my hair still dripping wet. His cum sat on my tongue. I was desperate to swallow, just from the reflex in my throat. I tried pushing the semen toward the front of my tongue, and pressing the back of my tongue up toward my palette. There, that worked. I could swallow and still control the semen.

I sat there on the floor for several minutes, hoping, I guess, that he would come back. Then I went in the bedroom and sat on the bed. All the sensations were still fresh, his holding my head and jamming his cock in my mouth. The taste, the texture of his cock.

The thought of all this made me ache for release. My hand wandered down to my pussy and instinctively began rubbing. I was still wet, and I dipped in and lathered my clit with my juices. Then I began massaging myself furiously. My body stiffened and squirmed, begging for release. My tongue still pressed upward, keeping his precious seed on the tip. I rubbed harder, harder. I jammed my tongue against my pallete, hoping I could control it. My stomach tightened, I arched my belly. Now I tightened my shoulders. Now...now...

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" Finally, my muscles quaked with release. My pussy trembled, flooding my hand with fluids. Oh, god, it felt good to do that. I was panting through my nose, still pressing my tongue hard to hold the semen.

I sat there on the bed as my body relaxed from its spasms. I rubbed my crotch with the towel, wiping the fluids from my thighs. Then I put on some panties, a pair of shorts, and a tshirt.

It had been twenty minutes since he left and I still had not swallowed his semen. I was starting to get uncomfortable. I desperately wanted a cup of coffee, but I dare not try to do that.

I went to the living room, thinking maybe if I really just waited he'd come sooner. Five more minutes went by. When would he come back, I kept thinking to myself.
 
Later that morning...

After breakfast, I had a chance to explore Carolyn's neighborhood at leisure. She'd done quite well for herself at her age. The streets were lined with upscale, trendy shops. By midday they'd be busy with young professionals and the art crowd coming downtown to check out the galleries.

When I entered Carolyn's apartment, I found her sitting at the table in the kitchen, anxiously awaiting my return, no doubt, from the way she propeled herself from the chair. But, then, reticent about approaching, she froze in place as I closed the front door behind me.

"Show me," I commanded. Carolyn obediently let her jaw drop and slid out her tongue, showing me the white, ropy remains of what I'd ejaculated into her. Far less than what I shot, but not bad for two hours of holding it in her mouth.

"Good girl," I told her. "You may swallow." I watched her mouth close and her throat contract as she did so, her eyes searching mine the whole time.

"Give me your hands, Carolyn," I said. After a pause, Carolyn's hands fluttered up from her sides. I took them in mine and held them under my nose, inhaling.

"You've masturbated. I see you're enjoying this as well, aren't you?" I asked. She considered her reply, but when words failed her, she answered with a deep blush and an almost imperceptible nod.

I withdrew the envelope from my coat pocket and laid it on the kitchen table. "You've got mail," I said. Then turned and left. But lingered outside the door waiting to hear the rustle of the envelope open... just as Carolyn waited inside to hear my footsteps recede down the hallway.

It wasn't long before I heard the tearing of paper and the sliding of the note from the envelope. When Carolyn opened it, she read:

You'll need some things from Claridge Market on the corner.

- One zucchini.
- One tube KY jelly

These are the only two things you'll buy. And you'll buy them between noon and 2 p.m. today.

Regards.
 
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Carolyn

When he left again I sighed deeply and thought about what had happened. I was relieved that he had come back, but I didn't understand why it took so long. I wiped back a tear thinking of how miserable I had been holding the semen in my mouth.

Then, at last, I fixed the coffee and had breakfast. By then I was starving, and it felt so good to have something in my mouth that I could swallow.

Around eleven Matt called. Mostly he wanted to know if I had enjoyed sex and if I was mad at him for some reason for kicking him out. Yes, no, I answered the questions dutifully, not wanting to make him feel bad. I felt I needed Matt in my life, but I also knew he would always be frustrated at not being able to possess me. There would always be something beyond his grasp, something only the stranger could understand and possess. I put Matt off for that night but said we'd get together sometime soon.

After breakfast I did a load of laundry and had an idle chat with my neighbors in the laundry room. When I brought the clothes up it was almost 1pm. I folded them and put them away, and then set out for the market for my supplies.

There's only one thing I could imagine doing with zucchini and ky jelly, so I spent a while looking over the shapes, sizes, and textures of zucchini. I didn't know for sure he would make me use it as a dildo, but I certainly had to prepare for that. I found one I thought might feel good, and took them to the checkout. Mr. Claridge, who had become a dear friend over the years, looked at the zucchini and ky jelly, looked at me, and then we both burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. If he only knew.

When I got back home I set them on the kitchen counter. I fixed a snack and another cup of coffee, and sat down in the living room with my current novel. It was 1:45. I wasn't really expecting him back that afternoon, but I did wonder why he had insisted I have things ready by 2pm.
 
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Monday morning 10:30

"This is Carolyn." She'd answered the phone on the second ring, a cluster of colleagues around her desk chatting over coffee, recounting their weekends.

"Tell me what you did yesterday morning, Carolyn," I said.

Her co-workers must have seen her flush at hearing my voice, noticed her body language change at hearing my request.

"After you left?" she tried.
"No. After you saw me in your living room."
"This isn't..."
"This is the perfect time because I want to hear you tell me how you sucked me off."

There was a pause as Carolyn made some excuse and shooed her curious colleagues away. She came back on the phone.

"Please...." A long pause. A sigh. "I came out of the shower..." she began to whisper.
"Louder, dear. And please don't speak in euphymisms. I'm a grown man, I know what these things are called."

"I came out of the shower..." Carolyn continued, her voice louder, but shaky.
 
Carolyn

His voice hit me square in the stomach. There were people all around my desk, and I had been having an animated conversation with them about what to do about some delinquent accounts. Suddenly he was on the phone, demanding that I describe what I had done on Saturday. I told my coworkers this was a private call, which people do for various reasons. Still, I was very nervous.

"I came out of the shower...." He demanded that I speak louder. I looked around, nervously.

"I came out of the shower, and you were there, and you made me get on my knees."

I paused as some people passed by my door.

"You put your...you put your cock in my mouth, and I sucked you until you came. You asked me to keep your cum in my mouth and I did that."

I thought about the humiliating two hours I spent waiting.

"And I waited for you for two hours." There was discernible sadness in my voice as I said that.

"And you came back and let me swallow."

I stopped. Was that what he wanted me to say? It seemed like I'd recounted everything.
 
Carolyn

"Yes, yes." Hearing him say that brought back the deep satisfaction I felt when I came.

"Yes, I masturbated while I waited. With your cum in my mouth. I did that."
 
Carolyn

When is this going to stop, I think. I look around again to make sure no one can hear.

"I dip my fingers into my pussy to lubricate them." When I said that, I felt a familiar tingling in my pelvis.

"And then I rub my clit...that's what I did Saturday...rub it hard. My body gets real tense and I rub harder and harder until..."

A spasm shot through my pelvis.

"...until I cum, and my whole body releases."

I pause.

"Please, can you call me at home? I need to get back to work."
 
Carolyn

My face sank. I was feeling so uncomfortable talking about this at work. I sighed and answered his question.

"Yes, I massage my breasts. I didn't do that Saturday but usually I do."
 
"I want to watch you masturbate for me, Carolyn. What time should I come to your house tonight?"
 
Carolyn

Though I was relieved to see an end to the conversation, this caught me off guard.

"Uh...I....I don't care....how about nine o'clock?"

We agreed on this and he hung up. At last I could get back to work, but in fact I was distracted through the rest of the day. I was anxious about him coming, and I had gotten aroused talking about masturbating. It was a great relief when the day ended.

I took the bus home, fixed supper, and cleaned a bit in the kitchen. At eight I turned on the television and got started on a crime show, not anticipating that it would end just at nine. During a commercial I took stock of whether I need to prepare for him in any way, and decided I didn't. I was wearing a pair of sweat pants, a sweat shirt with no bra, and bare feet. Could this possibly matter?

During the 8:45 commercial I was getting nervous, but dismissed my fears. There was certainly nothing difficult about what he'd asked, but I couldn't quite grasp the discomfort of doing it in front of him.

A minute before nine the credits rolled and I turned off the TV. It was suddenly very, very quiet as I sat and waited.
 
9:07

As I entered, I found Carolyn on the living room sofa, barefoot, wearing sweats. I ordered her to strip to her panties, had her turn a 360 for me, then led her into the bedroom in front of the full length mirror.

I retreated to a chair in the corner of the room.

"Is your cunt moist already?" I asked.
 
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