Faceless Fuck Ch. 01byBoheminxen©
I'd heard both sides of backpacking through Europe, the bad -- the horror stories of pretty American girls disappearing into an international sex trade and stolen possessions in the hostels --, and the good -- the friendly foreigners and their adoration for Americans, the amazing sights to see... But regardless of what was closer to the truth, the minute I graduated high school, I took a year off before heading to college to simply explore Europe with a couple weeks in India, New Zealand, and Australia towards the end.
I was privileged to be able to do this, no doubt. My family's money paid for the necessities while my summer jobs and part-time work through the last half of my high school career would pay for my shopping. I had saved it all. I couldn't be more excited and the worries of my family were waved away with a youthful surety.
But now that I was actually out on my own, I wasn't so confident. In fact, I was downright uncomfortable in some situations. Sometimes, I didn't know the language of the country, and foreigners would stare at me, unabashed and whisper in their native tongue amongst themselves. Other times, I found myself turned around and taking the wrong walkway into an alley that looked like it was in the complete wrong side of town.
It wasn't all bad, of course. I was fascinated with every culture I found myself immersed in, like a child in Disneyland for the first time. I ate my weight in every city I visited, and then walked it off, through crowded streets, dashing in and out of mom-and-pop shops, duffel bag over my slender shoulder until it was so full that I ached to carry it any longer and the sun began to set. In fact, if I had to decide, it was mostly good.
A few months into my trip and several stolen pillows later, I had learned my way around hostels well enough. The one I was staying in that night wasn't so bad, mostly filled with Americans, and some U.K. Beauties doing the same as I was. They were all fairly friendly and I ended up exchanging numbers and email addresses with a few of them, promising to keep in touch.
When the lights went out, I discovered someone in the bed I had claimed the night before, but instead of picking a fight, I found an empty one. Exhausted, it was only a few minutes after I covered myself with my quilt and snuggled my duffel bag in my arms, that I was asleep. I awoke, no telling how long after wards, to someone sneaking back into the room, a little drunk from the sounds of their slight stumbling through the room. I couldn't help but giggle, just softly.
His voice answered me gruffly, a husky whisper," You laughing at me? 'Cause this isn't funny."
He was nearby and I bit my lip, unsure whether to be amused or frightened. I opted to be silent, instead. But he found me anyway, climbing into the bed with me, his musky scent a mixture of sweat, cigarettes, and pure male. I could smell the faintest of alcohol on his breath as it warmed my cheek.
"And, you've stolen my bed," he accused me, although this time I could hear his amused tone, and feel his relaxed body movements as he settled in beside me, faceless in the darkness.
"Someone else stole mine, and I've found it's better not to pick fights when you're traveling alone," I whispered, not quite minding this warm body pressed against mine.
"Smart cookie," he whispered back, a chuckle deep in his throat, husky like his voice as his arm wrapped around me, a hand lazily finding its place on the small of my back.
"But I'm not so sure about strangers in my bed," I teased, knowing that I wouldn't ask him to move, and even if I did, he was unlikely to budge.
He felt solid, and his thumb was calloused as it drew circles on my soft skin.
"Is there anything breakable in your duffel bag?" he asked, instead of rising to the bait.
Caught off guard, I hesitated, but shook my head," No, not really. Why?"
He didn't answer, but tugged it out of my arms. I didn't fight, somehow trusting this faceless stranger with the few belongings I was carrying with me for the trip. He slipped it beneath his head, and his large hands picked me up by the waist, firmly setting me on top of him. I gasped, a soft noise in the quiet room. His chuckle was, again, deep and low in his throat, a manly sound that made my thighs tighten and tingle.
"You laughing at me? 'Cause this isn't funny," I quoted him, not resisting when his fingers tangled in my long hair, colorless in the night, and pulled my sweet lips down to his.
The slightly acidic taste of beer was in our kiss, just faintly, but I didn't mind, as his tongue played with mine in a way high school and even college boys back home hadn't ever managed. Stubble prickled my cheeks, and chin, but his lips soothed the rough touches away as he persuaded me without words to fuck him. His fingers slipped under my shirt again and tugged it off, waiting for me to put my arms up like a little girl would, and then, kissing between my bra-less breasts, he nuzzled my generous cleavage.
He hushed my quiet gasps and moans as his calloused thumbs teased my nipples to sensitive points, the cinnamon-colored buttons unable to be seen... but god, he didn't need the light. A wet tongue flicked out to wet them, and then his full lips wrapped around them, suckling gently, his teeth lightly scraping them. I found myself grinding on this complete stranger like a wanton slut, easily turned on with so little touch, and yet, it felt intimate, the way my body reacted to his skilled techniques.
He laughed quietly, in my ear, as he pulled me down for another kiss, biting my lip, and then whispering against them," Love, we haven't even gotten started yet. Help me out of this damn shirt. And these damn jeans, too."
I grinned, enjoying his sense of humor, and briefly wondering whether this could lead to more, or if I'd only know him as the stranger that gave me a night to remember. I didn't dwell, already blindly working on his buttons with nimble fingers, his own hands still teasing my breasts, massaging and gently squeezing them. When I was done, he pulled away and I helped him shrug out of his shirt, realizing how broad his shoulders were, and muscular, too. I bit my lip, wishing for light to see.
"Do you like tattoos?" he asked in my ear, nibbling my ear lobe enough to make me giggle again.
I whispered a positive answer, running my tongue along the shell of his own ear, my breasts rubbing against his chest.
He shivered beneath me, in a way that made me even more turned on, simply for knowing he was moved by it, and answered in a huskier voice than before," There's a tiger on my chest. I know you can't see it, but if it turns you on, I thought I'd tell you. Otherwise, my skin's as smooth as a baby's bottom."
"Mm, no... you're rough around the edges, stubbly and muscular and completely male... a tattoo fits perfectly," I whispered, in between kisses along his neck and shoulder and chest, my tongue flicking out for his nipple this time.
I enjoyed the slight hiss, the quick intake of breath, and the strangled groan, the way he tried to hold it back as I bit the tightened bud. I giggled a little, my petite fingers following the line of hair down his muscular torso to his jeans' button and zipper. My lips traced soft kisses over the slightly raised skin of a recent tattoo, indicating he was telling the truth, as my fingers worked the button out of the hole and the zipper tab down, the noise loud in the quiet room.
He chuckled, teasing," Looks like someone knows what they're doing."
"What? Did you expect some meek virgin to let you violate her in the dark?" I asked, a smile against his chest as my hand slipped in his pants, down his boxers to wrap around a thick shaft.
That slight hissing gasp was heard again, but his reply was as cool as a cucumber," No. I like a girl that knows what she's doing, what she likes, and how to ask for it."
I laughed and bit his shoulder gently," What if I don't ask? What if I just take it? Demand it."
Lightly, I stroked his cock, which was already throbbing in my small hand as we teased, back and forth, whispers in the silence.
"I like that, too," he admitted, after a quiet moan," Perhaps even more."
"You do, huh?" I asked, lips tickling his ear, warm breath making him chuckle, my hair brushing against his sensitive neck and cheek, his shoulder.
My thumb was gently rubbing the drop of pre-cum I felt in the darkness around the head of his dick when he didn't answer, instead reaching his own hand in my shorts, past my underwear, gripping the clean-shaven mound of my cunt in a possessive way. I felt his lips against my own, capturing the gaspy moan, as one of his long, calloused fingers felt my wet slit.
"So wet, and loud," he whispered, a smirk evident in his tone, as he asked," Will you be able to keep it quiet enough so no one will catch us? Or are you into that sort of thing?"
I giggled more, before another moan escaped my parted lips when his finger slipped inside of me," It's not like you've been very silent yourself. And if you'd stop teasing me and just fuck me already, it wouldn't be such a big deal."
He chuckled, enjoying my noises as he fit another finger in me, his thumb rubbing against my sensitive, swollen clit," If you're like this over my fingers, I can only imagine what my cock will do to you. You'll turn into a quivery, screaming mess, I bet."
My fingers dug into his shoulder, surprising me that I had even grabbed a hold of him, and my voice was strained when I told him," Less talking, more fucking, please."
"Alright, alright," he told me, pulling his hand out of my shorts.
I heard him taste me, on his hand, and then smelled the half tangy, half sweet scent of my juices on one of his fingers, as he pressed it against my lips, urging me to taste myself, too. So I did, obediently licking, and then gently sucking his finger until he pulled it away, kissing me instead. His lips were rough, his teeth scraping my full lips, bruising them. But I couldn't care less -- I just needed him inside of me, this complete stranger needed to put his cock in me, and fuck me senseless.
He tugged at my shorts and panties, pulling them off my long legs, and then he pulled his own jeans and silky boxers off, too. There was no time to worry about a condom; the thought never even crossed my mind, and I doubt he really thought about it either. He just grabbed my hips, took a second to guide his thick tip to line up with my wet hole, and then he slammed me down on it. Gone was the teasing, the sudden need replacing it as he whispered in my ear to ride him, to ride his dick, and then cum on it.
And as I straddled him, my hips moving up and down, his hands gripping my small, round ass, and slim hips, he whispered encouragement, muffled by my firm breasts that he found himself so attached to. My hands explored his muscular frame, nails running along it, and the slick sounds of sex, coupled with our own noises of enjoyment, were so god damn loud in the room. I was sure someone would wake up, and catch us, catch two strangers fucking.
But I didn't care, not one bit, especially when his thumb found my sensitive bud again, rubbing in circles, pinching a little. And then, when I came, my tight cunt squeezing his throbbing length, my screams, as he indeed had predicted, were only muffled by his fingers. It was a deep, strong feeling, draining me until I was left a little shaky, the quivery mess he had said I would be, and my hips slowed to simply grinding on him; I couldn't trust myself to try to fuck him for a long moment.
He wasn't going to wait, though. Instead, he grabbed me, again by surely bruised hips, moving to be on top of me, pressing my thighs against my chest, my legs on his broad shoulders as he continued to thrust into me. His hand kept me quiet, his own grunts and groans muffled by my thigh, his face turned into it. My nails dug into his back, my hands finding his bum, tight and muscular like the rest of him. And when he stilled, I was ready, so desperate to be filled by this man I hardly knew, wanting his orgasm to be as achingly incredible as mine had been, wanting him to quiver and moan and tremble for me, too.
His kiss was sweet, soft after wards, apologizing for his rough treatment while he pulled me into his arms to fall asleep.
When I woke up, he was gone, and it was my head on my duffel bag this time, paper crinkling as I stretched. I turned, squinting a little and rubbing my eyes to focus on the hesitant, boyish letters.
I found your name as I was digging through your bag for a piece of paper and pen. It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I bet, with that thick jet black hair, you have pretty blue eyes.
I'm sorry for getting to see your face and not letting you see mine. I didn't want to be caught in bed with you, and cause trouble with the hostel staff. I wasn't sure if you'd be staying in it any longer, and didn't want you to have to find a new one on such short notice.
I know, I'm such a sweet stranger, looking out for a young American girl out on her own, after violating her in the dark. What can I say, I'm quite the catch.
If you want to keep this a one-time-thing, we can. If not, here's my number: (xxx) xxx -- xxxx.
Either way, it was amazing, thank you.
Call me any time,
P.S. Just so you know, you kick. Hard."
I smiled and shoved the paper in my duffel bag, perhaps for another time.