The Stranger

Her orgasm finished, her frenzy completed, she pulled the soaked napkin from her mouth and lay, her face turned to the window to hide her gasping from the inattentive flight attendants. Finally recovered Carolyn sat up and pushed back her hair, repeating in silence again and again, "Wow. Oh fucking wow. What was that? What the fuck was that?"

But it was far too early for Carolyn to begin to question what had just happened. It was an event not yet complete. She felt pressure exerted on the inside of her thighs forcing them apart. She knew what was coming. Her lover was not done with her. He wanted his pleasure now. "All right," she said in silence. "You may have yours now." She pulled her skirt up to her hips and adjusted the blanket so it allowed her to spread her legs as far as the cramped airline seating would allow. She lay the seat back again, placed the gag back in place, and pulled the blanket back over her head to feign sleep. Now she was prepared to be fucked by her lover.

"Come on, put it in me," she whispered in silence. "Put that big nasty cock in me. I need you to fuck me and I know you need it as much as I do." She felt the pressure at the entrance to her cunt, still tight from her earlier climax. She wiggled her hips just a bit trying to accommodate her lover's erection and then she felt a sublime sensation as the head forced its way past the still cramping ring of muscles and slid slowly and decadently into her cunt filling her and stretching her as it invaded. She groaned in response, the sound muffled by her improvised gag. Her lover's entrance was not rough or fast. Just a slow steady push that gradually filled her up, the head of his cock sliding sublimely ever deeper. "My god," she asked herself. "How deep is he going? Oh fuck. I don't care. Let him split me in half. It feels so fucking good."

He didn't of course. He just filled her to the end of her cunt so his prick was bumping softly against her cervix. Not enough to cause pain. Just enough to let her lover know he was as far in as she could accommodate. He held it there letting her savor the fullness and the pressure being exerted. Then he withdrew slowly and almost completely, overcoming the effort of her Kegel muscles to hold him back. "Oh god no. Don't leave," she whispered.

And he didn't, pushing it back in and then withdrawing and then back in and withdrawing, again and again and again. Fucking her slowly and thoroughly with sensitivity. Still vaguely aware of the other passengers and crew in the first cabin she refrained from thrusting her hips up to meet him, responding with her Kegel muscles to squeeze and restrain the marvelous prick that was giving her so much pleasure. As with the foreplay of the earlier part of the flight her lover went on forever. The gag firmly in place and her face covered by the blanket she whined and cried in her enjoyment of the lust, hanging on the edge of the climax she wanted as much as life itself but still wanting this marvelous fucking to carry on forever. Somewhere over Wyoming (How did she know that? Who knows? But she was later sure it was Wyoming) she felt his prick swell and stiffen and then ram itself home in the hardest thrust yet which was followed by the sensation of a gush of hot semen deep in the interior of her cunt. Her own climax was spectacular, beyond that which he had induced with his fingers earlier. So strong she passed out, recovering just long enough to remove the gag before she faded into a deep sleep.

Later, much later, she was awakened by a flight attendant telling her they were on about to start the landing approach to SFO. Carolyn reached beneath the blanket and adjusted and refastened her skirt. Then she cast the blanket aside and rose for a last-minute visit to the lavatory. "Be quick," the stewardess warned Carolyn as she walked past. "We're about to land." In the washroom she pulled her skirt up around her hips and stripped off her sodden panties. She heard the noise of the landing carriage dropping into place beneath the aircraft and the wind roar it generated telling her to hurry. Grabbing couple of paper towels she cleaned up the gush of sexual fluids that emerged from her vagina to run down her legs. No hope for the panties she thought. She quickly rinsed her hands and carried the drenched panties wrapped in a paper towel back to her seat, just in time to tuck them in her oversize purse and pull the seatbelt tight around her. As she removed the tablet from the seatback before her she thought, "Wow, if that guy's writing can induce a wet dream like that I need to get him writing for the publication side of the house. It would be shame to waste that talent on one-offs." But as the wheels touched down on Runway 28L she asked herself, "Was that just a wet dream? I've never had one like that. So intense. So real."

A few minutes later she was standing just inside the boarding area searching her big purse for her phone to call for a car to take her to the City. Luiz emerged from the jet bridge, the last passenger off the flight, behind even the crew. "Oh hello Carolyn," he said. "Did you have a good flight?"

The question struck her like a club. Her first thought was, "Fuck yes, there's never been an airplane ride as good as that." Biting her tongue she answered with a simple, "Yes," ignoring the salacious memories flooding her mind. "Yes," she repeated. "It was a very pleasant flight. But tell me Luiz. I thought you were going to LA. Why are you here?"

"Oh," he responded smoothly. "My flight from O'Hare was cancelled. I've booked a connecting flight from here for tomorrow morning. I called a friend in Palo Alto before we left Chicago. She has a bed for me."

"Oh I see. Well, have a good trip."

He reached out and touched her forearm as he said, "Gracias." She again felt that tingling near electric shock and then the same waive of warmth and relaxation she had experienced from his touch in Chicago. And once again she noticed his faint, but unique aroma. Was it sage or something else? Then he was gone and the tantalizing aroma with him.

Carolyn slept very well that night. In the morning she read the remainder of the manuscript before going to the office as she owed Sylvia an answer. It wasn't near as good as she remembered it being, and once the manuscript passed the point at which she had stopped reading the night before it really didn't match Carolyn's memory of her experience, which Carolyn found vaguely disturbing. But then why should it match when she knew she had not read beyond the point at which she tucked the tablet back in the seat back pocket? The rest of her experience must have come from another source, but where? It was not like any dream she had ever experienced. However she was sure of two things. Her experience was not in the book she had reviewed and it was great sex. Beyond that the evening was a mystery to Carolyn, an incredibly pleasant one, but nonetheless still a mystery and perhaps a bit troubling. In any case she felt that the manuscript as a whole would be acceptable to the customer who had commissioned it without further major editing. She told Sylvia of her conclusion about the manuscript but shared nothing about the alternative version of the novel's initial seduction that she had experienced on the flight home.

A week or more passed and unlike a dream, Carolyn's memory of her experience on Flight 387 did not fade. The intensity remained and became the source of repeated masturbation sessions. On one occasion when Carolyn was being pleasured by her partner Sylvia she let the recollection play through her head while Sylvia licked her clit and fucked her with a large dildo. Her climax was intense, as it had been on the plane, but unrestrained by the presence of crew and passengers and her makeshift gag, she screamed with passion as her orgasm took her.

"Wow. What happened there?" Sylvia asked. "I've never made you cum like that, before. Tell me what I did. There's a bitch at home (referring to her life partner, Gina) who would love to have some of that."

"I don't know. Nothing special. I was just in the mood I guess," Carolyn responded with deliberate dishonestly. She had no desire to try to explain her Flight 387 experience to Sylvia. She couldn't explain it to herself.

There was another memory from Flight 387 beyond the intense sex. That was the warm relaxed physical and emotional feeling she had throughout the flight and until she fell asleep that night. It had started when Luiz had stroked her palm before he left her in the bar at O'Hare and again when he touched her hand briefly at SFO. It wasn't like any drug she had ever experienced (and she had experienced a lot of drugs in her younger years at Berkely, Stanford and later in the party scene in the City). Her memory of the sex was explicit, precise, sharp edged even a week after the event. Her memory of the sensation of warmth and relaxation was vague, not fading, just not at all precise like the sex memory was. She was uncertain if it was even related to the sexual experience.

After a couple of weeks Carolyn stopped being troubled by the memory of the Flight 387 experience. She couldn't explain it, but she decided she didn't need to. It was just something that had happened. She had accepted that until late one afternoon when she was browsing in the City Lights Bookstore which was just up Columbus from her office. She walked around the end of a row of books and found herself face to face with Luiz.

"Carolyn. How nice to see you again," he said. She immediately noticed the slight Castilian accent. It brought a vivid memory of the bar at O'Hare immediately to mind. She didn't have to look for a name. The memory was immediate. This was Luiz, the guy from the bar at O'Hare.

"Luiz," she said in surprise. "What brings you to my neighborhood bookstore? My office is almost next door." He extended his hand in greeting. When Carolyn took it she immediately felt the same tingle in her skin followed by the relaxing flow of warmth throughout her body. What is it about this guy, she wondered?

"You have a nice neighborhood bookstore," He responded, ducking her question. "City Lights is quite famous. Almost like Shakespeare and Company in Paris or Powell's in Portland."

"Yes, well it's a nice place to come and browse and I have occasionally recruited an author or two here. But tell me how was your visit to LA."

"Ah, yes. Los Angeles just isn't what it once was. So large. It runs for ever. But I had a nice visit with my old friend Serena. She lives in Venice. Do you know it? She has a little house on one of the canals they built there so many years ago."

"I've seen those. They are unique, but I don't know their history."

"Oh it is quite interesting. Perhaps I could tell you more, if you will join me for a coffee across the street?"

Without waiting for a response Luiz put his hand gently behind her back and began to guide her toward the front door. Carolyn again felt the mild electric sensation arising from his touch and a flood of warmth and relaxation throughout her body. It never occurred to her to resist his invitation.

They crossed the street and ordered coffees at Reveille. This late in the day a table was easy to get, the café nearly empty. Once seated he reached across the table and stroked her hand sending another tingle and shot of relaxing warmth into her. "How have you been Carolyn?" he asked.

"Fine. Busy." She didn't say horny, but that would have been true also.

"Good."

"What brings you to San Francisco?" she asked.

"Oh. Yes. Well I have been visiting a friend in Bodega Bay for a couple of days and I wanted to stop here and pick up a gift for a friend in San Luis Obisbo."

"You do get around don't you."

"I like California and I have friends here, as do you I suppose. After all you grew up here. In Palo Alto, am I right?"

"Did I tell him that?" Carolyn asked herself. She couldn't remember.

"Yes."

"And your family lives there?"

"My mother. My father died shortly before I was born and my mother never remarried."

Carolyn couldn't help but think of the never-ending string of lovers that Julia had brought home while she was growing up. After she was grown Carolyn had asked her mother about her many lovers. Julia had explained, "Your father's death was a trauma for me that I vowed never to repeat, but..." she smiled as she paused for a moment... "I like sex. So I have lovers and there's no commitment. They come and go and that is the way I want it."

"So you are Carolyn and your Mother is Julia, I think you told me?"

Had she said that? She wasn't sure. "Yes," she responded to Luiz. "Julia O'Reilly."

"Ah yes. Of course. The famed Stanford professor who writes of California history. And you are O'Reilly also?"

"Yes. It was my father's name."

"I see."

"And your name Luiz? Your last name?" she asked.

He smiled. "Ah yes. That is a little complicated. My full name is Luiz Joaquin de Arillaga y Moncada. A little complicated, no? We Spaniards create the last names of our children from the family names of both parents."

"So you're from Spain?"

"My family was. I was born in Monterey."

"You live there?"

"No. I have not lived there for many years, but I have friends in Monterey and in Carmel and farther down the coast near Big Sur."

"But I am curious about your mother?" he said, changing the subject. "She still teaches, am I correct?"

"Yes. she teaches several history courses, but California history is her specialty."

"Yes I think we have met. She has many friends."

Many lovers, Carolyn thought as she wondered if Luiz had been one of them?

They talked for another hour or so and he continued to smoothly extract information from her while she learned almost nothing new about him beyond that he had a complicated last name and had been born in Monterey. It sounds like he has had as many 'friends' as my mother, Carolyn thought, although he never said they were lovers.

Eventually he looked at his watch and apologetically said, "I'm sorry, but I must go. I have a dinner engagement down the Peninsula. (My mother again, Carolyn wondered?)

As they stood to leave he said, "Have a lovely evening Carolyn. Perhaps we shall meet again. I am frequently in San Francisco." He took her arm as they walked out the door and she felt an even stronger rush of energy. Before they parted on the street he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Then he again said, "Vaya Con Dios, Carolyn," before he turned and walked away headed north on Columbus. She stood watching him go thinking about how unbelievably aroused she was feeling. The man was pure sex. She shook her head to clear it. When she looked back up the street he was gone.

Carolyn also had a dinner engagement that night, not a romantic one unfortunately. It was with an author who specialized in gay erotica who she and Sylvia wished to recruit to their stable of custom authors. By the time the three had finished dinner and Carolyn returned to her apartment it was approaching 11:00 o'clock. She shed her clothes and crawled into bed where she drifted quickly off to sleep. As was her custom, she slept in the nude.

Later in the night Carolyn was awakened by someone sliding into bed with her. She didn't panic as she should have in such a situation. Her body was suffused with the almost glowing calm that Luiz had left her with earlier in the day. There was an aroma that confirmed his presence that she recalled from her prior meetings with him. Nothing strong or even specific. Really nothing she was sure she had noticed before. But still it was an aroma that some part of her brain associated solely with Luiz, confirming that the naked man crawling into her bed was Luiz. "Luiz?" she asked, already certain it was him.

"Si."

"Why are you here?"

"To make love to you."

"Oh." She couldn't think of any reason to object. "Are you a good lover?"

"Some women think so."

"Good," she said as she turned toward him. "Kiss me."

They lay entangled, kissing with ever increasing passion, their tongues dueling, her breasts pressed tight against his chest, and his thigh between her legs rubbing her mound as they moved. It was delicious. She was soon panting with desire. The question of how this stranger had gained access to her house in the middle of the night had vanished from her mind. He was too good to worry about. Carolyn reached for his cock, but he brushed her hands away saying, "No. Later. Now I will love you."

Later Carolyn would recall that Luiz spent the next, oh god, who knows, twenty minutes at least torturing her with his lips and tongue—her face and mouth, her ears, her neck, her breasts (now her tits in her lust driven mind), her toes and the bottoms of her feet, her calves and then the inside of her thighs, so slowly moving up to her sex. It was when he inserted two fingers into her already leaking cunt and began to lick between her lust swollen labia that she again felt that jolt of frisson his touch could bring. It was unlike any sex she had ever experienced and it pushed her into an immediate minor orgasm. He withdrew his fingers and picked his head up looking at her and face saying "Oh you're in a hurry aren't you little one. Don't be. We have all night." He smiled and returned his fingers and mouth to his torture of her sex, nibbling and sucking on her labia, rotating his fingers in her cunt, pressing against her G-spot, occasionally a restrained flick of the tongue against her enraged clit. The frisson of his touch continued and her orgasms continued. They weren't massive or even large. Just repeated little jolts reminding her of the joy of being a woman and the powers of this strange lover who had joined her in her bed.

When he had somehow satisfied himself that he was doing a good job of loving her he again pulled back and looked at her face. "You are very lustful," he said. He still had his fingers in her cunt and it occurred to Carolyn that they were much longer than she had anticipated. It was like her experience on Flight 387 except this was real. Carolyn knew his fingers weren't that long. How was he doing it? But then why did it matter? It felt so fucking good.

"But now are you ready to cum?" he asked.

What the hell does he think I've been doing, she thought.

"No Carolyn," he responded to her thought. "I mean really cum."

Bring it on Luiz, she thought. She grabbed behind her knees and pulled her legs back and apart into the lewdest posture she could imagine. He responded by curling the two invading fingers and pressing hard on her G-spot and then commencing an all-out assault her clit with his lips and tongue. This was no longer an occasional flick of his tongue against her clit. He sucked it between his lips as he would one of her nipples and then worked in an all-out effort to drive Carolyn into ecstasy. Carolyn lasted longer than she expected. Instead of tripping into one of the tiny orgasms she had been experiencing, her body restrained itself, piling up energy like a coiling spring. She could feel a massive orgasm in preparation, a tightening throughout her entire body, awaiting, anticipating, seeking, and crying out for, the release she knew was coming. And when it came, it came in waves, her legs shaking, her back arching, and the frisson of his touch tearing through her body. It was unlike any orgasm she had ever experienced before. She screamed in passion with the first wave and then grunted with each successive release until she briefly passed out, collapsing onto the bed like a limp rag.

When she came to Luiz was smiling, sitting back on his haunches between her lewdly spread legs, his erect cock standing tall and angry looking. It wanted to fuck. And Carolyn wanted it. Yes she had just had a massive orgasm but looking at Luiz' tall, raging, cock she wanted it to fuck her. Not later. Not someday. But now.