Dirty Fantasy with a Stranger
Fucking a Stranger in different Fantasy
Sam and his friends had come to the seedy hotel bar for an edgy taste of the rougher part of town but had soon grown bored with the lack of music and energy. Half had already left and the rest were paying their bills when the odd stranger approached him and made the astonishing offer.
“Dude…what?” Sam asked, really looking at the stranger for the first time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but thin, and the skin of his hands and face were deeply tanned by long hours in the sun. His severe-looking clothing looked to be hand-made from heavy, home-spun cotton; white shirt buttoned to the top, black jacket and pants, simple leather boots with traces of field mud dried around the soles. A black cap hid his short hair completely. His face was clean-shaven and unsmiling.
“I said, pardon me sir, but would you accept an offer of five hundred dollars to have intercourse with my wife?” The stranger’s oddly-accented voice was even and bland as if he were asking for directions to the mall.
“Are you serious? Are you fucking with me?” Sam looked to his friends, but none were paying attention to the exchange. If this was a joke none of them were in on it
The stranger pulled a small manila envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it over. “I’m not joking, sir, I would consider it a favor and pay you as I said.” Inside the envelope were five crisp hundred-dollar bills. Sam was just drunk and horny enough to ignore any sense of caution and agreed with a nod of his head.
“She’s upstairs.” The stranger said, then turned and walked to the elevator. Sam gave his friends a vague excuse and followed.
As the ancient Otis clanked and shook its way slowly to the fifth floor, Sam contrasted his own appearance with the stranger standing stonily beside him. Beach tan, sandals and board shorts, blond hair tucked under a backward-facing ball cap, and a red t-shirt that proudly proclaimed ‘I Fuck On The First Date.’ For all their similarity in age, build, and height, the two men in the elevator couldn’t be more different.
“So, uh, you from one of those religions or something? Like, the ones that kind of keep to themselves and don’t like technology?” Sam asked.
The stranger continued to look straight ahead. “Aye.” “Oh…uh…Cool.” Sam waited but the stranger elaborated no further.
The elevator clanked to a halt and the doors opened. The dingy red carpet and beige walls of the hallway seemed to absorb light, making everything appear dim and indistinct. The stranger led Sam down the hall, past door after dark brown door, until they reached the last one. He knocked three times and listened for a reply that never came. Then the stranger fished a key out of his pocket and slid it into the lock. He paused before turning it.
“No talking inside. Do what you must then leave when you’re done.” Sam nodded, and the stranger opened the door. Sam stepped inside.
The room held a single bed and on that bed lay a woman. The hotel bedding had been balled up and discarded in a corner, instead, she lay upon a patchwork quilt made up entirely of vibrant shades of red. Over here was a white sheet that covered her upper body and faces completely, and draped over both of her bent and spread knees. The outline of her curvy shape was distinct under the sheet, and her hard nipples pushed the thin cloth into little points on top of her small but shapely breasts. Below, a section of the sheet had been neatly cut out, exposing her no more than necessary to do what he’d been hired to do.
His eyes were drawn between her legs. A shock of curly black pubic hair contrasted sharply with what he could see of her pale, smooth skin. Within the tangle of hair, he glimpsed pink folds, open and glistening in the weak light of a single lamp.
Seated in the shadows along the walls on each side of the bed were six old men, three to a side, each dressed as the woman’s husband was. Their top lips were neatly shaved but long, grey beards hung from each of them. Their faces and hands were craggy and weathered, and Sam was reminded of an old saddle he’d once seen in a frontier-town museum. All eyes were on him but none of them spoke as Sam stared back at them.
Impatiently, the oldest-looking among them gestured sharply with his chin towards the young woman on the bed, and his eyebrows furled ominously. Sam had never felt less turned on in his life, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to at least try.
He walked over to the bed and stood at the foot of it. With unaccustomed solemnity, he removed his hat and kicked off his sandals. He pulled off his shirt to reveal smooth muscled arms and a lean but powerful torso. Hesitating only a moment, he inhaled deeply and slid down his shorts and boxers. The old men regarded his limp cock with what he could only interpret as some degree of buyer’s remorse.
He tried to clear his thoughts, narrowing his eyes and focusing on tuning out the rest of the room beyond the woman. Gingerly, he climbed onto the bed and knelt between her open legs.
He could hear her breathing now, soft and steady and just a little fast. He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath and admired the curved swell of her tits. He shifted closer to her and heard her breath catch for an instant. She seemed intently aware of him, unable to see him but clearly focused on every sound he made or shift of his weight on the bed.
His eyes traveled down her, his view nestling once again on her exposed pussy. Closer now, he could see how wet and open her lips were, how full her swollen, red clit was. Her wetness seemed to pool in her soft, inviting opening. His cock was responding now, growing and swelling with anticipation. Reaching out with his hands he gently pushed against her thighs, spreading her open even wider. Her breath shuddered in her throat and he watched as a single drop of her juices escaped her pussy and ran lazily down the crack of her ass. He breathed in the taut, light musk of her excitement and felt his body fill with need.
He ached to put his hands on the rest of her body, to kiss her, but the almost- ritualized way she was draped made him feel it would be inappropriate. His cock was painfully hard now, and he gripped it in his fist. Pushing his cock down he squeezed a tiny drop of pre-cum from the tip, then, with exquisite care, rubbed it gently onto her clit. She gasped, sucking air in through her teeth as she felt the slick touch. Pushing himself lower, he positioned the head of his cock near the entrance to her pussy, feeling it throbbing in his hand, and leaned slowly forward…
…She felt the smooth, warm swell of his cock-head touch the lips of her open pussy, and instinct took over. Pressing her hands flat on the mattress she lifted her feet, pulling her knees back, tilting herself up to meet him as he pressed into her. She felt herself stretch around him, mouth open in silent wonder, and continue to stretch some more. His thickness felt endless and, for a moment, she panicked that he wouldn’t fit inside her. Then the stretching eased and she felt him began to fill her. A slow, tight, liquid slide, his cock smooth and soft and unbelievably hard. She ached to open herself wider to him, legs quivering as she tried to spread them further. Deeper into her body he pushed, possessing her, owning her, deeper than anything she’d ever imagined something could go.
She felt his hips press into hers, the soft touch of his balls against her ass and realized he was all the way inside her. There’d been no pain, no tearing, nothing she’d been warned to prepare for. Just the right fullness, the stretch in her hips from her open legs, the heat of him inside her. He paused now, with a low groan that made her stomach flutter and her face flush with heat. His hands were pressed into the bed on either side of her as he held himself above her. She could hear his breathing, deep and urgent, as he fought for control.
She was just beginning to wonder what came next when he began to move inside her and all thoughts fled.
Pulling back, he started sliding out of her and she felt emptiness follow. She fought the wild urge to grab his ass and pull him back inside, almost surrendering to it before he stopped and began pushing back into her again. Breath she hadn’t realized she was holding rushed out of her. Again he pulled back and pressed back into her. Over and over. Gradually the pace increased, his cock plunging into her and his body pressing against her clit. Her hips writhed as she matched his thrusts, grinding herself against him each time. A tickling ache began to grow inside her, coiling like a spring and building towards…something. She collapsed into it, focusing on it as it grew, losing everything around her in the sensation. He was fucking her hard now, slamming into her and driving the breath out of her in tiny grunts. The tension inside her suddenly flared, held her in ecstasy for an instant, and then collapsed into wave after wave of shuddering pleasure.
Gasping, her senses returned. He was still fucking her, hard and fast, and the wet noises of his cock pistoning in and out of her filled the room. For the first time since the man had entered her, she became aware again of the elders. She heard the low rasps of their heavy breathing as they watched intently. She felt the power of it around her, the sounds and smells of lust were universal. For the first time she could remember, she knew she was in complete control now. She moaned at the throbbing in her pussy, letting the sound spread her lust into the room. She imagined their dry throats, their bodies straining forward to hear, blood filling their withered cocks as they watched her.
Such marionettes, and all the strings led to her. In her mind, she laughed. No wonder they ruled as they did; they feared this power that they could never control and never resist.
She turned her focus back to the man above her, lifting her hips and matching his rhythm once more. His breathing grew ragged and she felt his arms begin to quiver on either side of her. With a roar, he buried himself deep inside her and she felt his cock spasm deep within, over and over and over as his body shuddered. Panting, he collapsed on top of her, the heat of his body radiating into her. She felt the faint twitches of his spent cock, still inside her, and the hammering of his heart against her chest.
Soon he would be gone. The elders would file out, and her husband would wait for her to dress and emerge. They would leave this city and return to their life, perhaps bringing new life with them. She felt his breathing slow and reveled in the heat of him as he softened inside her. Soon yes, but not yet. For now, at least, this moment was all hers.
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