The Stranger

"Oh shit yes," she said through clenched teeth. "Fuck me. Make me your slut. Oh fuck yes." Right now she wanted him as bad as she had ever wanted anything.

He began stroking his cock in and out of her. She responded by wiggling her ass, shoving it back to meet each thrust and using every dirty word she knew to express the joy he was giving her, "Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cock feels so fucking good. Oh so good. That's it just ream my cunt with that raging prick. Give it to me Luiz give it to me hard so I scream like a slut obsessed by your cock. Oh fuck yes." She even swore in the Spanish that some past lover had taught her.

When Luiz was satisfied that he didn't need to hang on to her hips to hold her in position he slid his hands forward so he could fondle her tits that were hanging down from her chest swinging loosely as he pounded her. She squirmed and pushed back in response. He pinched her nipples, pulled on them, squeezed her breasts together, all with pain, but pain that felt so good to Carolyn, and there was that continuous frisson from his touch, his fingers and palms on her tits and his cock in her cunt. Carolyn was lost in passion.

There were none of the little orgasms his fingering had given her on their drive over from the City. Now her body was building up to a giant orgasm, the kind he had given her when he spent the night with her. She could feel it coming, her body winding up, needing, wanting, calling for, demanding, the release it would bring. Oh she so wanted to cum, but as with sex with him in the past, what he was doing now was so good she didn't want it to stop. She started to reach for her clit and then stopped herself. No, she thought. Let this go on for as long as it will.

Luiz, the master lover that he was, knew just how to hold her on the edge, continuing to deliver pleasure without letting her trip into orgasm. But even Luiz had his limits. He could feel his own orgasm coming. He had been thinking about fucking her for days now and like her, he needed release. So he let it happen. He did nothing to halt the rush of cum up his cock that he felt coming, but instead reached beneath her and pinched her clit. He growled and groaned as his cock emptied stream after stream of his hot pearly jism deep in her cunt and she screamed as each wave of a massive orgasm or series of orgasms, she had no idea which and didn't care, swept through her body.

Afterward they lay on the floor of the shower gasping with warm water from both ends and the ceiling raining down on them.

"Gracias," he said. "You are magnificent."

"As are you," she responded. "Is there more?"

He laughed and responded, "Of course. You are a needy woman Carolyn, but do not worry I will always have more for you. Your passion is magnificent. So like your..." He stopped without finishing the sentence.

She looked over at him and saw that his dick remained fully erect standing straight up from his body. Immediately forgetting his unfinished sentence she said, "Oh yes, you do have more." She swung a leg over him and rose to her knees so she was riding him cowgirl style. As she eased herself down, his dick slowly filled her cunt again, she asked, "Don't you ever get soft?"

"Not for you Carolyn. Never."

They fucked for the next two hours in a variety of positions, some repeated. In the shower, on the bed, Luiz holding her in his arms with her back against the wall and legs wrapped around his hips. It went on perpetually with multiple orgasms for each until Carolyn could finally take no more. She slept, awakening only as the sun was sinking into the Pacific.

After she awoke, their passion satiated, they were seated in the home's living room. Carolyn was wrapped in a soft terry cloth robe. They were drinking an elegant white Burgundy that Luiz had procured from the homeowner's wine cellar.

"Now Luiz," she said, her head clearer than when he had first touched her arm hours ago in Golden Gate Park. "We need to talk. Is this where you live?"

"Oh no. It belongs to a friend. She is seldom here so I use it for my San Francisco base."

"So where do you live. Luiz? What address do you put on your tax returns?"

"I live here and there up and down the coast usually with friends. And as for tax returns, I haven't paid taxes in a very long time."

"You have no income?"

"Nothing the government could try to tax."

"Are all your friends women?" she asked.

He thought for a moment and then said, "Yes, I would say so. I know some men, but it is the women I count as friends."

The man is a gigolo, Carolyn thought.

"No I'm not that," he said. "Not what you think."

"There are things and places that I own. Perhaps even people. And they provide me with the resources I live on. After all my travel with you on Flight 387 didn't come free."

"And how do you do it?" she asked intending to change the subject without clearly explaining where she wanted to go.

"How do I do it?" he echoed.

"You know that sensation when you touch me and the way it relaxes me?"

"Oh... Well, I really don't know. It doesn't happen for all women."

"Can you tell? Can you tell when it's having an effect?"

He smiled. "Yes. They usually go to bed with me."

Carolyn smiled. "You are very good at sex."

"Gracias." He paused for a moment. "Would you like some more?"

"Wine?" She knew he meant sex.

He laughed at her subterfuge. "No Carolyn. I was asking if you would like to fuck some more?"

As he spoke, Carolyn let the robe slip from her shoulders baring her breasts. She tugged at the loose belt and pushed the robe apart so her sex was clearly exposed. "Yes." she said. "I would love to fuck some more."

Three hours later Carolyn stepped from the passenger door of the Mercedes in front of the door to her apartment building, dressed only in her running shorts and a tank top. Her shoes and undergarments were rolled in a ball. Luiz, always the gentleman, had opened and held the car door and escorted her to the entrance to her building. As she opened the door he leaned forward and kissed her on a cheek imparting the customary burst of energy. "Vaya Con Dios, Carolyn. I shall see you again."

"When?" she asked.

"Oh as it happens," he responded before walking down the stairs and sliding behind the wheel of the Mercedes. As he drove away the car merged into the street's heavy traffic and vanished, becoming indistinguishable from the remainder of the stream of cars.

Following yet another shower, this one without sex, Carolyn sat almost naked in her living room wearing yet another terry cloth robe, this one her own, and thought about her afternoon as she watched the lights of a freighter rolling through the Gate and into the Bay. The run was a good one. I think I'm ready for the Dipsea. The sex was just fucking unbelievable. His wine was excellent, better than what I am drinking now. But the day was a failure. I didn't learn anything about this mysterious stranger. But then she remembered what he had said in Spanish; that she was as beautiful as her mother. He had slipped up. "Did he assume I couldn't speak Spanish?" she asked herself, "Or was it just a slip in a moment of passion. I either case, he clearly knows my mother and importantly he knows her in the nude."

She took a long drink of her wine and said aloud, "I need to talk to my mother. She will know more than I do about this man."

It was another week before Carolyn received a phone call from my mother, Julia. "Mom," she said. "Where have you been? I called you ten days ago. I was beginning to think you had gone on another sabbatical."

"Oh I'm sorry. I went down to Carmel for a weekend. I met some friends there and it turned into a week at their place down in Big Sur. I had no classes to teach because it was Spring Break, so..."

"I understand Mom." Well at least Carolyn understood that her mother really didn't know how to use a cell phone for much of anything except placing an outgoing call and she wasn't going to do that to check with her office for messages when she was in Big Sur. Sometimes Carolyn envied her mother's lifestyle.

"I'm sorry dear. What do you need?"

"We need to talk. Something has come up."

"Oh certainly. What's the problem?"

"No, this needs to be face to face."

"Oh. I'm not sure I have time to come up to the City right now. I've been away and I have classes to teach this week and my T.A. has just made a mess of her life so I need to work with her on her dissertation, and..."

"I know Mom," Carolyn interrupted. "I'll come to you. Are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Of course. Where shall we go?" Her mother's natural reaction when it came to meals was to go out. She was a brilliant historian but a terrible cook who hated the kitchen. But no, Carolyn thought, I don't want to have this conversation in a restaurant.

"No Mom. Let's eat at your place. I'll bring takeout from Buca di Beppo, a Palo Alto restaurant." She knew her mother loved their takeout, especially their eggplant parm. Takeout was an acceptable alternative to going out for her mother, especially if there was someone around to do the dishes. Washing dishes was another function of the kitchen she hated.

"Oh yes," Julia responded showing enthusiasm for the first time in the conversation. "Can you get their eggplant parm. You know I love it."

"Of course Mom. I'll bring the wine also." For someone who had been born and raised in California, Julia had terrible taste in wine. She had never grown out of her Modesto heritage.

"Great dear," she said. "I'll see you about seven, okay. I've got to run now. I'm late for a lecture." She hung up before Carolyn could say anything more.

At seven that evening Carolyn showed up at the little house on the Stanford campus she had grown up in. She simply walked in without knocking. After all it was home, or at least it had been. She found my mother sitting at the dinning room table grading papers. The house was, as it always had been, a mess with books and papers stacked everywhere.

"Here's your eggplant parm," Carolyn said, holding up the takeout sack in one hand, "And here is a good bottle of Syrah," which she held in the other hand.

"Oh lovely." Just let me get this table cleared. She began stacking up the papers haphazardly pushing everything to one end of the table to make room for the two of them. Setting the takeout bag on the table Carolyn went into the kitchen to get plates and utensils. The kitchen was neater than usual. Had someone been visiting, she wondered?

As she brought out plates, wine glasses, and utensils Carolyn asked, "Mom, where is the corkscrew. I need it to open the wine." She had given her mother dozens of corkscrews over the years since she had left home. Somewhere in the house there was a black hole that simply swallowed them.

"Oh. Isn't it a twist off?"

"No Mom, it isn't a twist off."

"Oh well, let me come and look. Maybe I can find something."

"Never mind Mom. I have one in my purse." Carolyn had learned over the years to never bring a good bottle of wine to her mother unless she brought a corkscrew along in her purse.

She was nervous about bringing up Luiz so the dinner conversation was mostly about the classes Mom was teaching and her traumatized TA, who it seemed had broken up with her boyfriend and had become essentially dysfunctional as a result. "You know dear, women just shouldn't let themselves fall in love with men. It's just too hard when it unwinds. That's why I never keep a relationship going for more than six months or so."

"Really? Carolyn said, screwing up her courage. "What about Luiz?"

"Luiz?"

"Yes, Luiz. I think your relationship with him has been much longer than six months. He's Spanish, born in Monterey, or so he says, mid to late thirties I would guess, salt and pepper grey hair, blue eyes," and can fuck like a Satyr. She left the last part out knowing they would get to that later.

"Oh,... Oh... Yes. that sounds familiar. I do know a Luiz that kind of fits that description."

"Yes, I think you do Mom, and small world that it is, I know him too."

"Oh. I see. My this is awkward."

"Really Mom. I can't believe you have an exclusive relationship with him. He and I certainly don't. He just kind of shows up and then..."

"And then you fuck," Mom interrupted, putting all pretense aside.

"Yes, we fuck Mom. And Mom, he's marvelous. The best I've ever been with. He can do anything and does. And he never wears out. It's supernatural."

"Yes he is, isn't he."

"So how long have you known him, Mom. How long have you been sleeping with him?"

She laughed. "There isn't much sleeping involved, is there Carolyn. It's mostly just fucking. The sleeping can wait until he's gone."

"I've noticed," I said. "But how long have you known him?" Carolyn repeated.

She sighed. "Since just after you were born."

"What?" Carolyn hadn't expected that answer. "He must have been about 8 years old then," she said.

"No he wasn't. This is going to take some explaining. And it's going to require more wine. There's a jug in refrigerator. Would you get it please." As Carolyn rose to go to the kitchen Julia continued, "Oh and get some drinking glasses. These little wine glasses are too small for the kind of drinking this conversation is going to need." Carolyn returned from the kitchen with a pair of 16-ounce glasses and a chilled, mostly full, gallon jug of Gallo's finest red table wine, straight from their winery/refinery in Modesto. Julia poured each of them a glass, filled to the brim. "Now drink up and listen. You've a lot to learn."

"His full name is Luiz Joaquin de Arillaga y Moncada. His father was the governor of Alta California when it was a part of Spain. Luiz was born in Monterey in 1801 while his father was governor of Spanish owned Alta California. He died in 1834 when he was stabbed with a rapier in the hands of the jealous husband of a woman he had seduced."

"Wait a minute Mom. This makes no sense. That would make Luiz a ghost, nearly 200 years old." Saying that she thought of the scar she had seen on Luiz' chest.

"Ghost, spirit, whatever. I don't know. I gave up trying to figure that out years ago. But you may have noticed that he has some talents that other men, I mean mortal men, simply don't have."

"Yes, well he can fuck forever with a recharge time of just about zero, but..."

"That isn't what I meant although that's also true. But tell me daughter, what does it feel like when he touches you? What happens to you internally when he does that?"

"Oh yes that," Carolyn said, thinking of the electrical frisson she felt when he touched her and the way it relaxed her.

"Yes that," Julia said. "Just with his touch he can seduce you. He's done it hasn't he?"

"Yes," Carolyn admitted, "and more than that." Taking a long pull on the retched red wine she launched into the story about Flight 387.

"Oh my," Julia said when Carolyn had finished. "He's never done that to me. He reads my mind, he seduces me, he controls my ability to reach orgasm holding me on the edge forever, and all the other things you described, but he is always in the same room with me and touching me."

"Well, he was on the plane. At least I think I saw him board and I know I saw him de-plane. But I never saw him come up to the front of the plane where I was. But I have to admit that the whole experience inclines me, as irrational as it may seem, to believe your ghost story. Or maybe it's just this retched red wine we are drinking."

Mother and daughter spent the next hour or so talking about their various sexual exploits with Luiz. Needless to say, Julia had a lot more experiences to relate. As they talked the level of wine in the jug decreased regularly until they were both getting sloppy drunk. The wine didn't improve any. When Carolyn realized they were nearing the bottom of the jug she worked up the courage to ask her mother a couple of questions beyond, 'How many ways did he fuck you?'

"Mom," she said, "there is something Luiz told me that I have to ask you about. He said he is sure I have no Irish blood. That I am pure Spanish."

"Oh?" Mom was looking even a bit drunker than Carolyn felt.

"Yes. He said he could tell because I was so passionate when we had sex. But I kind of got the impression part of it was based on something you told him. What did you tell him Mom?"

"Blabber mouth. That's the trouble with Luiz. Usually he's the height of discretion. But every once in a while when things get passionate he throws discretion to the winds. Fortunately it's usually in Spanish so most of his lovers don't understand him." She chuckled and added, "or even care by that time."

"Oh you mean when he told me in Spanish that I was as beautiful as you?"

"He said that?"

"Yes we were standing naked in a shower lusting at each other."

"Damn him," Julia said. "He wasn't supposed to tell anyone he knew me much less share his evaluation of how I look in the nude." She sighed and took another long pull on the wine. "But none of that matters. What matters is what he said about your father. Let me explain. The fact of the matter is I don't know for sure who your father was."

Carolyn must have looked a little wide eyed because Julia shook her head and said, "No it's not that bad. I'm not a complete slut. It's between two candidates. At the time you were conceived I was having sex with two lovers, Tim O'Reilly and Ernesto Sanchez. Ernesto was from Sevilla and Tim was from Dublin. We were all three grad students at Cal. When I discovered I was knocked up I told them. They both proposed. I picked Tim for just about the dumbest reason in the world. I was tired of being discriminated against as a Latino so I wanted to be named O'Reilly and I wanted you to be named O'Reilly. Ernesto was classy. He stood up as Tim's best man. Then two weeks later Tim was killed in a car crash, but by that time the deed was done. You and I were O'Reillys."

"What happened to Ernesto?"

"He was killed in the same crash."

"Shit." Carolyn poured herself the last of the wine. "Was Luiz involved in any of this?"

"No. He didn't turn up until a few months after you were born. I met him in the Bancroft Library at Cal."

After a long pull on the wine Carolyn said. "Mom I know this will sound terrible, but none of that matters to me. I was raised by you. You're the only parent I ever knew and the other maybe was, could have been, or whatever, parent don't matter. I'm sorry you had to live through that trauma but,... you're still my only parent and I love you."

"Gracias." Julia responded.

Cheers," Carolyn said in a slurred voice as she raised the glass with the last of the wine. They had finished the last of the gallon jug of wine Carolyn had brought from the kitchen.

"Wow," Julia responded, shaking her fogged head. "This has been quite an evening, but I have an 8:00 a.m. class to teach so we better call it a night."

"Wait Mom. There's one other thing. What do we do about Luiz?"

"Fuck him," Julia said with a giggle. "That's what I've been doing for 30 plus years—at least when he takes the time to show up. I suggest you do the same thing. He's a great fuck and neither one of us going to own him. He has women like us all over California, so we might was well enjoy him when we have the opportunity. Will that be okay?"

"Sure why not. Besides I'm not sure we really have a choice. He will just seduce us when he wants us. Right?"

"Si."

Mother and daughter laughed and staggered off to bed.