Tales from a Stranger Ch. 01

This is to be the first of a series that I have in mind to write. How far I go with it will likely depend on reader review and response. I have received some very kind emails from people who read my earlier offerings, and to them, I say thank you, and sorry it's taken so long to write more.

My name is Jeremy Jones, or JJ, for those who know me well. I have a peculiar set of circumstances in my life. Allow me to tell you about my situation in a general sense. I have, for some reason fallen into a pattern in my relationship history. I will meet someone, a sweet young girl with a broken heart, or a painful past, or an abusive relationship, and get involved with them, whether or not it is really a good idea. It almost never is.

They fall for me quickly, mainly due to my temperament. I am a patient and relaxed person, I don't get angry easily, I abhor physical violence, and I don't raise my voice at people that I care about. I provide to these young women a mirror, one untainted by the impurity of self interest.

I love to love the world, everything in it, everyone in it. I am always trying to feel people out, to gain a sense of their needs, their goals, motivations, their thoughts and their feelings. I want to help everyone I see, as impossible, and even foolish that may be. And I see the beauty inherent in all of us, through the layers of self-defense, the walls of fear, the sting of the past.

And to these beautiful creatures, I try only to make them see themselves in a similar light. To see the natural beauty they themselves may believe to be squashed by the pressures of life and love in this society of TV, super models, and unrealistic expectations.

That is my gift, and my curse. Because to them, at first, I am a fascinating creature, exotic and unique. I am, to many people, strange in the way that I see life, how I interact with people. And to some women, namely the ones described above, respond to me in a way I can't fully explain.

Unfortunately, once they see themselves in a new light, their expectations change. With familiarity comes boredom, loss of the fascination. And I am just a regular guy to them. With newfound self esteem, and self respect, comes a desire to be out and experimenting. It is a pattern I know well, and one I have become comfortable with. And these are my stories...

Part One: Christina

I met Chris on the Internet, of all places. You hear stories about it, but when it happens to you, it never seems to be authentic, in some way. At any rate, I found her on a personal ad one night, and was intrigued by her profile. No picture, though. Hmmm. I sent her a message with my email, and waited to see what happened.

It was two days later she returned my email, and it began. She had a story only made sadder by the fact that it is a fairly common one. Not to diminish her pain at all, she truly had some rough circumstances. I felt for her as I feel for the suffering of the nameless strangers I would never know.

We seemed to click, and from attraction came trust, and from trust came...love? Yes, but love has interpretations. For some, trust equals love, for others, attraction and attachment will do. I loved her before I knew her, on the level of compassion, empathy, and trust. She loved me in her way.

She was abused and betrayed by her most recent ex-boyfriend, and the one before. Cowed, put down, verbally beaten, and physically, on occasion. So much anger in her past. The absence in me of the anger so familiar to her, was what she loved. I never so much as raised my voice to her. I accepted her constant stream of apologies for imagined wrongs for what they were, self defense...she only knew one way to love.

We met for the first time in a diner on our lunch breaks. She brought a friend (never know what kind of weirdoes you're going to meet over the Internet, hehehe), I came alone. She was shy, as I knew she would be, and beautiful, which I suspected. Felt, rather. Her beauty was in her poise.

We were a perfect mis-matched couple. She topped out at about five feet, to my lanky six foot four. She was in college, nineteen to my twenty-six. She was cute in a tiny sort of way. And she had the most beautiful eyes. The color of the deep ocean on a clear, calm day. Incredible shine to them, dimmed not at all by the touch of sadness there.

We talked a bit over lunch, her friend providing most of the preliminary conversation, rescuing us from our silence. Chris and I had already exchanged so many words our eyes were weary from reading the computer screen. But we lost ourselves in the physical presence of being together for the first time.

It was awkward, too. Polite and quiet, we mostly just tried to get over the initial shyness of meeting someone who already knew a great deal about you. I am open and friendly by nature, and I chatted with her and her friend for awhile, not trying to put too much pressure on her. When they left, her hug was warm but guarded, accepting but defensive. I promised to write to her as soon as I got home from work.

As it turns out, we were both a bit nervous about the others reaction upon meeting. The first time we had seen each other at all. Luckily for both of us, there were no objections from either of us. I thought she was very cute, great body, beautiful eyes. I was hooked. I already knew she was a good person from talking to her online. Put that together with her nice little package, and I was a happy man.

She thought I was hot, loved the fact that I was over a foot taller than her, thought I had beautiful eyes. And she was glad that I had found her attractive, too. Suddenly, we had a lot of physical attraction to go with the long late-night talks. Things had just gotten interesting!

We agreed to meet again, the next week at a restaurant with some of her friends from work. We talked online, and on the phone a lot, and the conversation was starting to heat up. Now that we had faces to go with the personalities, fantasies were coming alive. I wanted her, in the worst way. And she was talking dirty the whole week before we met, telling me what she wanted to do.

We met at the restaurant, she was already there with her friends. She saw me pull up, and walked outside to meet me at the door. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, both kind of tight, and she was stunning. So tiny, very cute, kind of shy. We greeted with a warm hug, and went in to meet all the friends.

As we were sitting around a large table, I met her friends, ordered a drink, then felt a hand in my lap. I glanced over at Chris, and she had an impish grin on her face. I felt her small hand creeping up my thigh, toward my already-swelling cock. She met it halfway, and the grin on her face widened. For two hours we sat, talked, drank, and got to know each other better. For two hours, she stroked my cock, and I copped feels at every opportunity. A brush against her breast, a finger slipped into the waistband of her pants, or caressing her tummy under her shirt. All in the open, in the midst of her friends.

When we left the restaurant, we sat in her car to say goodnight, falling together with the force of two hours of pent up passion. Her lips were small, and soft, her breasts, small and firm. I devoured them all. She went at my bulging jeans with a fury, we were a mess of fondling, rubbing, caressing and kissing. We were parked in a public parking lot, but we couldn't stop. She worked the zipper on my jeans, then the button, then I felt her tiny soft hands inside my boxers. She pulled my full erection free, stroking it slowly and gently. Her hands were so small, she could fit them both on the shaft, with the head poking several inches above her tiny fists.

With a final kiss, and a melting look, she lowered her head to my lap, and filled her mouth with what her hands couldn't hold. I felt her soft, moist warmth envelope my head, then slide down until I felt the back of her throat. Then she moved, her hands, and mouth at once, sliding them as one up and down. One of her hands slipped between my legs to fondle my swollen sack.

This went on for long moments, she was taking her time, no signs of urgency. And since there was no sign of anyone around, I pulled her shirt up in the back, unsnapped her bra, reached in to feel the softness of her breasts. As I gently pinched her nipples, her pace increased, a moan escaped her stuffed throat, and she shoved me as deep as she could into her little throat, nearly gagging herself.

I could feel my release creeping up, watching her blow me was the sexiest thing I had seen in a long time. She turned her head to look up at me, smiled with those most beautiful eyes, and ran her tongue from the base of my cock to the head, swirling around at the tip. When she sucked me back into her mouth, and her two little fists started pumping in time, I knew it would be soon.

I told her I was going to come, gave her a moment to stop if she was going to, then committed myself to flooding her throat with my seed. She didn't pull away, she began sucking greedily. I saw her flinch slightly when the first shot hit her throat, but she didn't miss a drop.

She smiled as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "That's going to have to hold you for now, just an appetizer for Friday." Chris had class, and work, Monday through Thursday. But Fridays, she didn't have class, and could come visit me for half the day before either of us had to go to work. It was our next agreed upon visit.

I wanted to do more for/to her, but she fixed her clothes and told me I was going to have to wait. And if I waited, she would make it worth my while. Thinking about it had my cock swelling again, and I had to remind myself to wait. I was still rubbing her clit through her jeans as we kissed goodnight, and I could feel heat, and her wetness through the material. How I wanted her.

We made it through the next few days talking on the phone, masturbating together (but separately) and teasing each other about the next time we met up. I jokingly told her I was going to answer the door in nothing but a blanket, she dared me to.

When she showed up at 9:00 am, I answered the door, wrapped only in a light blanket. I could hardly sleep that night, all I could think of was how good it felt to flood Chris's soft little mouth with my cum. And how good it would feel to sink it deep into her tiny body. She was dressed cute, in low cut jeans and a silk blouse. Her nipples poked through the soft fabric of her shirt. Mouth watering...

We embraced at the door, I wrapped her in my blanket next to my swollen cock (it had been almost constantly hard for the last two days, thinking about today) She took me in her hand, led me to the couch. She unwrapped and gobbled me like a burrito, and now we were in my house, it was broad daylight, and I had the most amazing view of this little angel hungrily sucking me off. This cute little angel I had only known in the flesh for a short time (this technically being our second date since first meeting)

She stroked me slowly, mouth and hands, licking and pulling, building, but not releasing, my long overdue release. We had both been up late at night, talking to each other, touching ourselves, fantasizing about this very moment. But that had done nothing to dampen the growing desire between us. She stopped short, though, and suggested that we retire to my bedroom. I was dying to see the beautiful little body beneath those clothes, so I showed her the way.

When we got to my room, she pushed me down on the bed, and began removing her clothes. In a few moments, she was naked to the waist, no bra. Her breasts were perfect, small, well defined, perky and her nipples were a rosy pink. Mmmm. I attempted to help her with her jeans, but she wouldn't let me, on the grounds that I had already undressed without her. True. So I sat back to watch.

She peeled her jeans off, dropping them unceremoniously on my floor. Nothing special about her white thong, but it looked wonderful on her. She slid them off slowly, then stepped out of them. I was on fire. Her body was so tight, compact, she looked like a life-sized tinkerbell. A very naked and aroused tinkerbell.

She crawled up my lap, and went back to work on my unflagging erection. Now she could ease down between my legs, and go at it head on, so to speak. Her hands were massaging and stroking my shaft and balls, while she thrust her mouth as far down as she could stand. I will never forget how she looked at that moment.

It wasn't long before I surrendered to her efforts, and lost myself in the building sensation of my impending orgasm. I tangled my hands in her soft hair, and pulled her head up from her attention to my cock. I looked into those beautiful eyes, and asked her if she wanted my cum. With a hungry look, she went back to sucking with wild abandon, as if begging for it. Moments later, she got it.

I felt like I went on coming for minutes, and she just kept sucking more out of me. Finally, I could take it no longer. I pulled her to me kissed her tenderly, and told her that was the best orgasm I had ever had. With an odd plaintive look, she asked me to tell her how much I liked it. And I did, several times. She just wanted to please me, that was all.

And I wanted to please her. I laid her down on the bed and moved slowly down the length of her elfish body. I began with her lips, her cheeks, her chin. Soft and light, but with a certain urgency. I moved down her neck, slowly across her collarbones, to the rise of her breasts. She gasped when I took her left nipple in my mouth, moaned when I flicked my tongue around in a circle, and again when I matched the motion with my hand on her other nipple.

I was beginning to recover from my first orgasm, and could feel a need building again. I hadn't planned with having sex, just messing around, but I was thinking I might just do it anyway. By the time I had circled around her navel with my lips and tongue, my cock was hard again. When I slid my tongue across the sensitive skin above her mound, she jumped, and when I reached the top of her slit, she grabbed the back of my head and jammed it into her hot snatch. She wasn't shaved, but her pubic hair was light and soft.

I plunged my tongue into her sopping pussy, then slid it up to the tip of her swelling clit. Softly, at first, the with more pressure as she pulled me into her, I tongued her pleasure spot. When I slipped a finger into her waiting hole, she cried out, bucking her hips up to me. Moments later, her orgasm washed over her, she trembled and thrust her pussy into my face, the went limp on the sweaty sheets.

I move up atop her, laying myself over her quivering body. We kissed, whispered at each other, or got lost in each others gaze. I never could get enough of just looking at her. So adorable. I felt her small grip around my renewed erection, and she pushed me over her, rolling on top of me.

She left a trail of kisses down my chest, licking each of my nipples, then down my stomach, before attempting to swallow my swollen member. She couldn't take half of it, but I felt a surge all the way down to my toes. She was working the extra saliva down the shaft, coating it and making it all slick.

Chris pulled up from me, then crawled back up my body, positioning herself so that the tip of my cock was sliding against the opening to her hot pussy. She looked me straight in the eyes, then slid inch by inch down the length of my prick. I bottomed out inside her with barely anything to spare, she trembled with the full length of me inside her.

Slowly, she pulled herself up off of me, withdrawing all but the head, then eased smoothly back down to the base. She was so tight, it was almost painful, but at the same time, it was perfect. She began to build up a rhythm, sliding me in and out of her, bumping and sliding her clit against me. I gripped her by the waist, slipping into her rhythm, pulling her to me as she bounced down on me. She was beginning to pant quickly, those beautiful eyes were closed tight as she lost herself in the sensation of our joining.

They popped open a moment later as her orgasm took hold of her, and I felt my pricked getting squeezed like a vice. She was bouncing quickly over me, crying out in a high-pitched squeal. She collapsed on top of me, gasping in the last moments of her peak. She told me she had never had an orgasm during sex before, and never had two in the same encounter. She kissed me hard, wrapping her arms, legs, and body around me.

I rolled her onto her back, still inside her, and began to rock myself against her. Slowly I pulled almost all the way out, then back in, drawing it out, building. She smacked me on the ass, hard, and told me to fuck her. And I did, I fucked her, I pounded her, I slammed my cock into her, my hips against hers, my hands in her hair, he nails in my back and ass.

I came hard inside her, over and over, feeling like it would never stop. The pulsing of my cock sent her over the edge, and she clamped down on me. We came together for what seemed like hours, then collapsed in a heap.

We lay in a tangle of arms and legs, covered in sweat and bodily fluids for a long time. Talking, caressing, laughing. A quick shower got us in the mood again, and she jerked me off in the water, catching my cum in her waiting mouth. I couldn't believe I could actually cum again, but she was so hot, and got me so hot.

And then she left to go to work, as did I. We saw each other a couple days a week for a few months. I loved her, tried to make her feel beautiful, cause she was, but she didn't think so. I never fought with her, I met and interacted with her family.

When I met her, she was rebounding from a difficult relationship. In the beginning, I was a good foil for her ex, and it was wonderful for her to feel safe with someone. And though we had talked about future goals, we had thought it would work itself out.

As we got to know each other, we grew apart. I knew it was only a matter of time before it fell apart. But in a way, I was okay with that. When we first met, she had a look of sadness, the look of someone done wrong, the look of a victim. At least, even if she left, she no longer had that look about her.

We had a few months of good times, great sex, lots of cuddling and rolling around in bed before and after sex. We didn't fight, even when we didn't disagree. But we were okay with each other, and ourselves. We broke up, and her priorities fell in order, and she moved on to a nice young man with a small child she had baby-sat for.

And I moved on. And am still moving on. There are more stories to tell, but this one ends.