The Stranger

"You are very passionate Carolyn," he said. "I think you are not so much Irish as your last name would suggest."

"O'Reilly was my father's name," she responded.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You have the beautiful olive skin of a Spanish maiden and the passion that goes with it."

She laughed at his presumptuousness. "I never met my father. He died before I was born. I only know what my mother has told me."

"It doesn't matter," he said. "It is your passion that entices me. Now I want to fuck."

"Oh god yes," she said.

He moved forward and his cock entered her with no difficulty. He was large but not so large as to cause pain. He was long, but not so long as to prevent him from fully entering her and pressing his mound against her clit on each thrust. Once his cock was fully buried in her cunt he lay still letting her enjoy that indescribable pleasure of a cunt filled with a newly found cock. My god, she thought. His cock is perfect. He fills me like no cock I've ever fucked. He was stretching her cunt so his cock touched her everywhere. When she moved slightly his mound rubbed her clit. He began to fuck her, slowly at first but always with increasing speed and power, until they were rutting like animals. Luiz holding himself above her, sweat dripping from his chest to hers as he drove his cock home again and again; Carolyn with her legs spread and both feet planted firmly on the bed thrusting upward with her hips up to meet each matching thrust of his cock. It was the kind of fucking that can't last without a hurried climax. But it did. They kept it up for minute after minute, five minutes, ten minutes, who knows how long. When muscles tired they changed positions—on their sides spooning; doggy style with Carolyn on her knees, her face buried in a pillow and her round plump ass aloft for Luiz' use as he plowed her cunt. When she rode atop him he stared with lust and enjoyment at her swinging breasts, reaching up from time to time to pinch and pull on her engorged nipples. It was a glorious fuck and like all glorious fucks, it eventually came to an end with her cunt trying in vain to crush his cock as it emptied a flood of cum deep within her. Carolyn collapsed forward on to him and they rolled to the side gasping for air, his still hard cock remaining deeply imbedded in her.

The sex went on like that for hour after hour. Luiz seemed to need no recovery time between fucks. If Carolyn needed a little break for her ravaged cunt, she sucked his cock until he spewed his cum down her throat or on her tits and face. It was glorious sex.

When Carolyn awoke in the morning it was light out, nearing Noon by her watch still on its charging stand. Luiz was gone. She had no memory of when he had left or even of when their sex had ended. She remembered sex that had gone on seemingly without end and then she had awakened alone in her bed, her body sore and stiff, her chest and hair covered with his dried cum. But how Luiz had entered her apartment and was a blank to her. Still, unlike her experience on Flight 387, she was confident this had been a real person who spent the late night and early morning fucking her, not a figment of her imagination.

After a badly need shower she found a note written in an exotic, archaic, calligraphy that read:

"Carolyn you were marvelous. I really don't think you are an O'Reilly. You have the passion of a Spaniard, perhaps even Basque like my father. We shall meet again. Last night was too good for just once."

Carolyn put the note to her face. She could smell a faint trace of his mysterious aroma. She was coming to think of it simply as sage, but it was softer than the bitter notes of a true sage. Unplaceable except as the aroma of her new lover, Luiz.

As she walked to work her mind kept returning to Luiz. She wasn't focused on the sex. For the first time in months her libido seemed fully satisfied. "That's hardly surprising," she told herself. "That's the most sex I have ever had in one evening. My God, we fucked each other silly." No, the question that was bothering her was whether the experience was real or was this another Flight 387? It must be real, she thought. My vagina is sore and swollen. My breasts are bruised and there are bite marks on my neck and other body parts. I have sore muscles all over my body, especially the core muscles used in the wild fucking we did. It just must be real.

"But... but there is this Carolyn," she told herself. "How did Luiz get in and out of my apartment? I'm on the fifth floor. He didn't climb in a window. There are three locks on the only door, one of which can only be operated from inside the apartment. I'm sure I locked them when I got home from dinner last night and they were all locked this morning. Even if I left them open last night, he couldn't lock all of them on his way out. Is my new Spanish lover a master lock-pick? And then there is this business of his magic touch—that electric tingle I feel when he touches me and then the warm relaxed feeling that follows. The emotional reaction that follows could have been a drug he slipped in my drink at O'Hare the first time, but not yesterday. There were no drinks. He just touches me and it happens. And besides that, the sensation is not like any drug I've ever had and in college and grad school. I tried them all." She was mumbling to herself as she walked down Columbus toward her office. "But my god," she continued, "can he make love. And his staying power and recovery. He's like a fucking satyr. Who is this guy." Carolyn could feel herself becoming aroused as she thought about Luiz' sexual prowess.

"And then there is this business of my not being an O'Reilly. How the hell does he know? Okay, I admit I never met my father. He impregnated my mother and then got himself killed in a car wreck. She gave me his name when I was born. Hmmm. Mom is Spanish. Her parents immigrated from Spain after world War II. Her last name is Alejandro, although she goes by O'Reilly. I think I need to ask her. In fact I think there are other issues to talk to her about. Does she know Luiz? Was I screwing one of my mother's old boyfriends last night?"

When she reached her office she placed a call to her mother's cell phone. Receiving no response, beyond the customary, 'this mailbox is full' (a common occurrence with her mother who viewed her cell phone as a prepaid land line pay phone booth reserved for her convenience). Carolyn then tried calling her mother's office to see if she was going to be home over the weekend. This was going to have to be a face-to-face conversation, she thought. I can't call my mother on the phone and ask her, who was my father really, and have you been screwing this weird Spanish guy Luiz that fucked me senseless last night? Nope not a good phone call conversation. Not even Face Time or Zoom. Unfortunately she learned from Julia's assistant that Professor O'Reilly had left for a long weekend in Carmel and wouldn't be back until Tuesday or Wednesday of next week. Carolyn said thank you and asked the assistant to give her mother a message to call her, knowing full well that the message might or might not get to Julia and in no case before she returned from Carmel. Her mother was not a great communicator.

The upcoming week was spring break at Stanford which meant that Julia had no teaching obligations back in Palo Alto. When Wednesday rolled around and Carolyn still hadn't heard from her mother she simply assumed Julia's long weekend in Carmel had been extended into a lost week in Big Sur with the lover she had taken to Carmel with her—a last minute extension of a brief tryst into a brief affair, a common event for her mother. On Thursday Carolyn took the afternoon off and went for a long training run. The Double Dipsea run (a legendary half-marathon over the shoulder of Mount Tam from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach and back) was coming up soon and she needed to be ready. The race commenced in Mill Valley with a climb up 671 stairs carved into the mountainside. It was not a race for the faint of heart, but Carolyn loved it for the climb through the huge Redwood groves and it's stunning views of the Pacific as the trail dropped toward Stinson beach. She thought the hardest part of the race was coming back down the 601 stairs on the return to Mill Valley. The descent was brutal on the runners' thighs.

She was cruising smoothly through Golden Gate Park on her return from Ocean Beach when she heard a voice she immediately recognized call her name. It was Luiz. She looked around and spotted him leaning nonchalantly against a classic black Mercedes sedan. It was a close call as to which looked the most dapper, the gleaming sedan or Luiz.

"Care for a ride?" he asked, as she paused and walked up to him.

"And shorten my training run?"

"How far have you run?"

She looked at her Garmin. "10 miles she responded. I've got five more to go." She was leaning with one hand on the top of the Mercedes.

"There are other ways to exercise," he said with a smile that sent a jolt straight to her sexual core. Then he reached out and stroked her arm where it rested atop the Mercedes. Once again she felt that overwhelming frisson and following warmth and relaxation she was becoming so familiar with.

"Really? What ever might you have in mind? I thought we explored all the possibilities last week."

"On no. Not even close. I can show you other activities that I am sure you will enjoy and find very stimulating."

"Is that so. I would need a shower first. I'm pretty gross."

"Yes, I thought we could start with that."

"And where would be taking this shower?"

"I have a place nearby. It belongs to a friend but she is away." He reached around her to open the passenger door to the car pressing his body lightly against her legs and buttocks as he did so. The frisson with stunning. Any thought of rejecting his proposition disappeared with his touch.

"All right," she said, as she slid into passenger seat. She smiled as she reclined in the leather seat of the Mercedes thinking about how her mother had warned her as a child never to get into cars with strange men—a rule she had followed carefully until she began meeting strange men in bars and going home with them. There were risks and there were rewards. Some of the rewards were marvelous she thought to herself with a chuckle. When Luiz entered the car from the other side she said, "I need to stretch my legs or I will cramp up."

"Easily remedied. Lay the seat back and put your feet up on the dashboard."

"You don't mind? This is a nice car."

"If your feet are muddy kick your shoes off."

Carolyn smiled again remembering the men who had asked her to take items of clothing off when she got in their car. It usually wasn't shoes. As Luiz drove smoothly away from the curb, Carolyn lay on her back her bare legs spread widely and her sock clad feet on the dashboard. Her shorts were pushed almost up to her crotch. She still had her running clothes on but her posture felt lewd to her. She was enjoying it.

"You have lovely legs, Carolyn."

"Hmmm," she responded. "You need to keep your eyes on the road."

"All right," he said. He took his right hand off the steering wheel and put it on her thigh, his fingers well around to the inside. Carolyn immediately felt that seductive frisson of his touch. When he pressed his fingers against the inside of her thigh she completely relaxed. All the tension in her legs had disappeared.

"Is this better?"

"Oh yes," she replied in almost a moan. "But don't stop." Somewhere deep in whatever was left of her rational thought processes it occurred to Carolyn that this man had control over the sensations his body communicated to hers. He could decide when and how to cause this amazing tingle and sense of relaxation his fingers were causing now. Up until now she was unsure, but it was clear that he was doing this on purpose.

He removed his hand to steer the car around a corner. Carolyn groaned, "Oh don't stop."

Once around the corner Luiz chuckled and said, "You are very aroused little one."

"Mmmm, yes. But I think that is your fault. I think you want more of me."

"That is true. Our time last week was marvelous." As he spoke he slid his hand farther up the inside of Carolyn's thigh. Her pussy was aflame with passion.

"Yes, it was," she agreed. He slipped a finger under her running shorts and her panties and lightly stroked her dripping sex. She groaned as a mini orgasm rattled her senses. She pushed his hand down and said, "But there are some things I don't understand Luiz. We need to talk. About last week and about Flight 387."

"We will my darling, but not while I am driving. Just relax and enjoy the ride. We will arrive soon and we can shower and then talk." As he spoke he pushed her hand aside and slid his fingers back up to her sex. A wave of relaxation flowed through Carolyn's system and she let him drive her to another small orgasm. Sure why not, she thought. Let's do this forever. We can always talk after that.

Forty-five minutes later Luiz turned off the highway they were following down the coast and drove up a steep twisting road to a classic mid-century modern home perched by itself on a platform carved out of the hillside giving it a marvelous view of the Pacific coast. Carolyn had no idea where they were and no idea how many orgasms his finger fucking had given her since they had driven away from Golden Gate Park.

"Where are we?" Carolyn asked, her mind a little fogged.

"My friend's house," Luiz responded in his usual uninformative fashion.

Carolyn pulled her shoes back on and stepped out of the car without bothering with the laces. As she stood in the cool wind coming off the ocean her head began to clear. "Oh we're by the ocean."

"Si. Let's go inside before you chill."

Once inside Luiz gave her a tour of the beautifully decorated midcentury modern home. It's expansive glass windows provided a stunning view of the coast to the north and south. "Come with me we can use the shower."

Shower, Carolyn remembered. This is where he is going to fuck me again. Her libido, which had cooled with the ocean breeze leapt back to life. Oh yes, she remembered. That's why I got into this stranger's car. To fuck him. The concept of unraveling the mysteries about him were lost in the sudden rush of lust she felt as he put his hand behind her back to guide her toward the shower.

The large shower was made of floor to ceiling tempered glass on two sides—one of which faced the bedroom and the other of which was on an outside wall looking south along the coast. Apparently privacy was not a paramount issue for the home's owner. There were nozzles and controls on both walls and a comfortable bench seat on one side. The walls at each end were decorated with floor to ceiling ornate mosaics of a nude man and a nude woman at opposing ends, done in the Belle Epoque style. It was stunning and erotic. The woman was holding her breasts out to the viewer and the man was staring at her from the other wall of the shower with lust. His partially engorged prick hung beside his leg like a snake.

Carolyn quickly disrobed and stepped into the shower. The water flow was controlled digitally by a panel on the side of each end that allowed control of temperature, flow volume and spray style. The ceiling had additional spray nozzles that could create the sense of a tropical rain. All quite modern and obviously newer than the house. When Luiz arrived she was standing beneath the flow at the female end with warm water cascading over her head and down all sides of her body. She pushed her hair from her face to stare at Luiz as he stepped naked into the shower. His body was lean and muscular and like the mosaic behind him his half-engorged cock hung down along one leg. There was a round red scar on the left side of his chest. This was the first time Carolyn had ever seen him naked. He was breath taking.

He stood letting water flow over him from the other shower heads as he stared at Carolyn. "Dios mío," he said. "Eres tan hermosa como tu madre". (My god. You are as beautiful as your mother).

His slip did not go unnoticed by Carolyn. She knew enough Spanish to understand what he had said and what it implied, but just now she was more interested in having sex with him than in trying to sort out his relationship with her mother. "How did you get the scar on your chest," she asked.

"It was a long time ago," he responded with a non-answer.

"Come here," she said.

Yes," he said, walking slowly toward her, his partially engorged dick swinging lewdly beside a leg. "Let me lather you."

She turned away from him, saying, "Start with my back."

He spent the next 15 minutes lathering her body from head to toe with extended caressing of her tits, her buttocks, her inner thighs, and her sex. As he soaped her body down his hands transmitted repeated jolts of his trademark frisson. Carolyn was tremendously aroused and yet completely relaxed. What he was doing he could keep up forever even though she wanted him to move beyond his languid caresses to more aggressive sex. When he thought her sufficiently clean or he believed her sufficiently aroused, he guided her to the bench and pushed down, his hand on her shoulder. His now fully erect cock was sticking straight out and she quickly grabbed it and sucked it into her warm wet mouth.

"Oh yes, that is good Carolyn. So good." He let her suck for a moment or two and then pulled back. "But it is not yet time for that my dear. There are other things we must do first." He began by rubbing the head of his cock against each of her nipples. Each initial touch brought the frisson his touch always brought but each these touches from his erect cock sent a powerful shock directly to her pussy. Dropping to his knees he replaced his cock as his instrument of choice with his fingers and lips, suckling on her nipples as he massaged her full breasts. Carolyn spread her legs in response and began to masturbate her dripping pussy.

"Oh you are in such a hurry little one," he said. "When will you learn to wait. The finish is always better if you have to wait, is it not." He pulled her hands away and said, "Now behave or I will have to tie you up." Although tempted by the idea of being restrained, she behaved, groaning, crying, occasionally biting her knuckles, as the waves of passion he was generating became unbearable.

When he got to her sex he cupped her buttocks in his hands, pulling her forward off the bench so he was holding her, her legs spread lewdly and her engorged sex before him like a plated dinner in a fine restaurant. And dine he did, licking her pussy lips and clit until he sent her into a strong orgasm.

"Now," he said, "we fuck." He picked her up and placed her on her feet facing the tempered glass on the outside wall, exposed and naked for anyone to see. There was no one to see her, but the possibility of someone, perhaps an afternoon hiker or jogger climbing the hills, added to her excitement.

Luiz pulled her ass back and spread her feet to open her pussy to his assault. She knew what he wanted and she wanted it too. She arched her back and thrust her ass towards him. Luiz grabbed her by both hips and then slid his big cock into her cunt. He was slow about it. It felt like an invading snake.

"Oh fuck," Carolyn groaned as his prick filled her and stretched her cunt to its limits. He let it rest, filling her with his meat. It took only moments before Carolyn relaxed enough to begin to squeeze the invader in her cunt with its muscles. She wasn't content to let Luiz do all the work. She wanted a role as well.

"Oh, ahora mi pequeño puta (So now my little whore)... he paused trying to return to English.

"You are ready and willing? Ready for my big cock to fuck you? Are you ready Carolyn? Ready to be my slut and fuck me until I squirt my cream in your cunt? Are you?"