Susana Ch. 04: Secret Admirer

Susana woke with a start.

Something had wakened her, a noise she only half-remembered, already gone.

Glen slept soundly beside her, and he was a light sleeper, so it must have been something from a dream, nothing to worry about. She snuggled back under the covers.

Still feeling uneasy, she couldn't get back to sleep.

With a sigh of frustration she got out of bed, wincing when her bare feet touched the cool wooden floor. She crossed her arms against the chill air as she slowly crept through the bathroom and laundry areas, carefully peering into the darkness, not even thinking about what she might find.

After padding quietly into the kitchen, she found it.

"Hello Susana," the strange man said jovially, flashing a bright smile.

That he knew her name only made the knot in her belly grow tighter.

He was handsome, a little taller than she, maybe slightly shorter than Glen, and seemed fit in a wiry kind of way. He had wavy black hair and fair skin, but Susana couldn't quite discern the color of his eyes through the shadows. He wore a stylish, dark green jacket that seemed almost black in the dim light, with spotlessly neat denims. The impeccable tailoring of his clothing was shown off by his stance at the fireplace, suggesting that he was posing for her.

Susana glanced back toward the bedroom and Glen, then stepped forward. "This is..."

He tutted and wagged his finger at her, and her eyes widened in alarm as she felt her objections fade from her throat. She could breathe, even vocalize sounds, but try as she might she could not utter a word.

"Tonight, I will do the talking, love, you should just concern yourself with paying attention." He spoke with an accent she couldn't identify, all soft vowels and hard consonants that sounded almost musical. When he wasn't talking, he'd clench the stem of a clay pipe in his teeth with the bowl turned down.

He looked her up and down. "My but you are a beauty aren't you, even wearing these ragged 'pajamas,'" the last he said with obvious distaste. "Let's have a peek at you without them, shall we?" he said with a flourish of his pipe.

And as simply as that she was naked.

She looked down at herself with a squeak, then tried to cover herself with her arms and hands as she backed away.

"No, no. No need for false modesty between us, let's have a better look at you." He gestured for her to come closer.

Her hands fell limply to her sides, and she felt her feet lightly dragging over the floor as she floated closer to him, coming to a stop near the dining room table, next to one of the chairs.

The strange man was crossing in front of the hearthstone when unexpectedly a bright blue spark arced across the tiny gap from the fireplace poker to his bare right hand. He recoiled violently with a discordant swear in a language she didn't know, kicking the vintage set of tools over in a fit of pique.

Susana found that she could move and started to retreat to the bedroom. She had only gone two steps when he glared at her and clenched his fist in an odd manner, and she could move no further.

He took a breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Shaking his head he said, "I admire your spirit, love, but you cannot get away so easily." He swaggered toward her with a brash grin, then waggled his fingers. "A different pose perhaps..."

Susana found herself moving, toward the chair, pulling it out and turning the seat away from herself, then clasping her hands around the back of the chair and arching her back as she bent over in a slow, languid rolling motion, thrusting her bare breasts out as she raised her ass for him, her feet spread wide. Her eyes grew wide, her breath quickening at the thought of what was likely to come next.

She was more frightened by the small part of her that welcomed it.

The man in green slowly circled around behind her, so she could only hear him as he appraised her physique and posture. "Mmmm so fine..." he whispered into her ear. She could almost feel his hand hovering, cupping the left cheek of her bottom, and she gasped as her sensitive nipples tightened in response.

He moved around her and straddled the seat of the chair, sitting down within kissing distance of her. As he coolly crossed his wrists over the back of the chair, so close to her hands but still not touching her, she could see that his right hand was sporting an ugly burn. He ogled her nakedness openly, whispering, "...just lovely..." then leaned forward to blow gently into her ear. She moaned loudly, her carnal hunger mounting, becoming an itching, aching craving within her, one her most deep-rooted instincts demanded be satisfied.

It occurred to her for a moment that this swelling desire she was experiencing was not the way she should be feeling in this kind of predicament, but that small rational current of thought was quickly overwhelmed by the rising tide of her lust.

He paused a moment, looking into her eyes, and then spoke, using a strange, singsong kind of rhythm. "I could make you plead with me to make you mine, love. I could compel you to take me by the hand and lead me into your man's bedroom, to ride me in his bed while he slept unaware beside us." He reflected on this for a moment, then added, "Or maybe he could watch, it's so difficult to decide."

With each word he spoke Susana could feel the sexual longing boiling up inside her. If she could speak, she knew she'd be begging him to fuck her, and that she would enthusiastically fuck him back.

But the thought that he might make her do something so horrible to Glen nearly brought tears to her eyes. Panting, she tried to struggle but managed only to squirm in a manner the strange man seemed to enjoy. A throb of yearning hit her like a cramp, making her gasp.

The strange man grinned, then sighed wistfully. "Alas, it is not to be. There are traditions that must be observed, protocols to follow. All so tedious really, but what can one do?" He grew serious as he looked deeply into her eyes. "So go back to his bedroom, and fuck your old man until neither of you can walk straight. But know this, Susana. I will be watching you, your every waking moment and your dreams as well. Our night will come soon, my pretty, and what you experience with him tonight will be but a taste of what you will share with me."

He snapped his fingers in her eyes.

- - -

Susana woke with a start.

Glen slept soundly beside her, his erection making a tent of the sheet and blanket.

The arousal her dream had inspired in her commanded her to mate with him that very moment.

She fought back the urge to just take him while he slept, then moaned at the shooting pain her protesting instincts inflicted upon her. Planting a kiss on his shoulder, she said, "Glen baby I need you..." in a low, tense voice, not even realizing that one of her hands had pushed the covers down his belly to his navel.

By the time he was awake enough to be aware of her, she had uncovered half his body and was grinding her warm, wet labia against his hip while kissing his neck and ear. "Mmmm...good morning, Susana. What's gotten into you?" he asked sleepily.

"Ohhh I had such a dream I need you to fuck me now right now..." she begged over and over, pausing between every three or four words to kiss his shoulder, his neck, his ear.

He had barely said "OK" before she had pushed the rest of the covers away and crawled on top of him. She raised her body from his just far enough to reach down between them and take his member in hand, guiding it into her hungry core.

His hard cock felt so fulfilling, so soothing to that terrible, wonderful itch inside her she almost cried.

Susana immediately began to move her hips, grinding her clitoris against his pubis as she pumped herself up and down his length. She didn't think of him, or herself even, only of the part of him inside her and what she needed from it. She drove herself with an almost desperate intensity, hard and fast, insatiably drawing him deeper and deeper into herself, panting and grunting with the exertion. Losing track of time, of where she was, she existed only for the moment, simply to do this one thing.

As she reached out to brace herself against the headboard, she imagined what she must look like to Glen as she fucked him like madwoman, gritting her teeth, tossing her hair wildly. Then she remembered the man in green saying he would be watching, and her surging lust drove her to ride him even more fiercely.

After an eternity, as she felt her orgasm building, he suddenly bucked with a wordless shout beneath her. It felt like he was exploding inside her, and it pushed her over the edge into her own climax. She almost passed out from the intensity of it, and as she collapsed panting to Glen's chest she felt overwhelmed, shattered.

She thought, Wow, if this is what it's like with the man in green at all...

Just the thought of him brought a trickle of that boundless lust he'd inspired creeping back.

She felt Glen's arms wrapping around her in a warm hug and felt ashamed, that she had used him, taken something from him, and this time she did cry.

Glen hugged her tighter. "Whoa, sweetie, where is this coming from?"

She struggled to control herself, saying, "I had a dream," as she wiped her tears away.

"You mentioned that earlier. It must have been some dream."

"There was a strange man, and he got me...he made me so...so horny," she finished with a sorry chuckle.

"I couldn't help but notice." He chuckled and smiled with her. "What did he do to you?"

She shrugged at this. "That's just it, he didn't even touch me. He just...talked, and I could feel it...growing. He made me bend over the chair, and I couldn't help it, I just wiggled my ass for him, he made me want him so much..." her voice trailed away.

"He bent you over a chair?"

"Yes, at the dining table."

"The dream was here, in the house?"

She simply nodded.

"That's unusual," he mused quietly. "You've only been here a couple of days, so it's still relatively unfamiliar to you. What could it have come to mean to your subconscious so quickly?"

She knew the side of him that was coming forward now, though she had never seen it before, not in person. It was the part of him that couldn't let go of a puzzle, would go to painstaking and extraordinary lengths to solve it. "What are you thinking?"

He smiled briefly. "Still gathering information, sweetie," he answered, kissing her cheek.

"Like what information?" she asked playfully.

"For starters, how did you get my pajamas off without waking me?"

She paused, then stammered, "I-I didn't, you were undressed when I woke up."

"I put on a t-shirt and an old pair of gym shorts before I went to bed last night."

She looked down at her own nakedness. "I had my pajamas on too. In my dream he took them, the strange man."

"He undressed you?"

She shook her head. "He made them disappear."

He kissed her again, then rose from the bed, looking around the room as he contemplated this. "Where would our pajamas be? The nightclothes we slept in..."

He searched the room, slowly turning until his eyes fell upon the laundry hamper. Shaking his head, he said, "It can't be that easy," then walked around the end of the bed to find them strewn at the foot of the hamper, as if tossed there. He snorted and said softly, "He missed."

Susana's crawled to the edge of the bed to see, her eyes growing huge. "What is happening?"

"I don't know sweetie." He rubbed his eyes while he thought, then got his glasses. "You say he made you bend over one of the chairs at the dining table?"

She nodded.

He smiled, offering her his hand. "Let's go see.

She looked at it a moment, then took it. Together, still undressed, they left the bedroom.

- - -

The chair was pulled out and turned away from the table, just as she described it. Susana looked at it and shivered, partly from the vast erotic desire remembered from the dream, partly from her growing fear that there was something more.

Glen kissed her cheek. "It doesn't mean anything, don't worry about it, sweetie." He glanced into the living room. "Now that is interesting."

"What is it?"

"The fireplace tool set is knocked over, and scattered," he said, walking over to it.

"In my dream the strange man's hand brushed it and it shocked him. He became very angry and kicked it over."

"Shocked him." Glen stopped and pondered this a moment, the scattered tools at his feet. "Did it make a lot of noise when it hit the floor?"

Susana nodded.

"That didn't wake me either." Glen reached down and set it to right again, then looked at her as he picked up the poker. "This set is wrought iron."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugged. "Maybe nothing." He sat on the couch in front of the fireplace and motioned her to sit with him. Taking her in his arms, he closed his eyes, he asked, "OK, sweetie, what I want you to do is close your eyes..." and he gently covered her eyes with his hands before continuing, "...visualize your dream, just as it happened. Like it was a story you read, or a television show watched. I'm not going to interrupt you or stop you or anything, just let the whole thing flow out of you until you've run out of things to say. OK?"

Susana took a deep breath, appreciating Glen's reliable presence as he hugged her from behind, and nodded.

It poured from her in a single great stream of consciousness, and true to his word Glen did not interrupt her once. She didn't feel adequate to the task, and her narrative felt jumbled and disjointed, a nonsensical muddle that made no sense at all. As he had asked, she kept talking until there was nothing left to say, her words slowing to a trickle before finally dribbling to a stop. She felt better having gotten it all out her system, and enjoyed the comfortable silence they shared.

She was completely unprepared for the question he finally asked.

"Did he actually smoke his pipe?"

Her eyes popped open. She was so flabbergasted she had to hear it again to sure she heard it correctly. "What?"

"His pipe. You said he would gesture with it while he was speaking, but did he smoke it?"

She closed her eyes to review the dream from the beginning, as before, and took a moment before finally shaking her head. "No, I don't think so." She took his hand and kissed his palm. "What does it mean?"

Glen took deep breath and held her close. "OK, broadly speaking, there are three possibilities. First, someone is playing a practical joke, either me on you, you on me, or someone else on us both." He shook his head. "I don't buy this one. Neither one of us is a practical joker. We're similar in that way, more casual, conversational jokers. To put that kind of effort into something like this just to get the better of someone, much less someone we love? It's not really in either of our natures."

Susana couldn't help but smile a little when he so matter-of-factly stated they loved one another.

He continued. "And the kind of preparation it would have taken for someone from outside the house? Without being noticed? Not likely, so I personally am not going to take this one seriously unless convincing evidence turns up down the line to support it. If it does, we can re-evaluate then."

"That seems sensible," she agreed. "What is the second?"

He held her tighter as he said, "That one of us is insane."

She involuntarily tensed at this notion.

"I don't think you're crazy, sweetie." He chuckled. "If you are you're hiding it exceptionally well. Hallucinating a boogeyman is one thing, but hallucinating one from a culture entirely foreign to your own, that would hold absolutely no meaning for you? Once again, very unlikely." His voice turned wry when he said, "And I really hope I'm not crazy. That would put us back on me putting something over on you, and looking at the situation objectively God knows I have had the opportunity, but the thought of doing something like that to you...I just..." he couldn't finish.

"I don't think you're crazy either," she concluded for them both, explaining, "If you were, you would turn it inwards, hurt yourself with it, not someone else," as she laced the fingers of her right hand through his. "You said something foreign...?"

"Thank you," he said as he kissed her neck behind her ear. "Yes, which brings us to the third possibility, and it is..." he had to laugh before continuing, "...implausible. Fanciful, even. On a truly epic scale."

"What is it?"

He sighed with a chuckle and said, "We may be dealing with a faerie."

To be continued...