Sex with the Proper Stranger

From my twentieth story office window, I could see a silvery strand of headlights running from the hillside of the city to the ocean. It was a winter rain. The kind that makes you shiver just to look at it. I moved away from the window to my desk loaded with papers, proof sheets, video tapes. We had three days to complete a six million dollar ad campaign for Chocolite, the thin candy bar with the gourmet taste. So, at eight p.m. there I was, beyond exhaustion, still in my glamorous office. Concepts had taken on garish proportions, tumbling and burning across my mind. Things weren’t going well. Annette sensed my anxiety and brought me my fifth cup of coffee for the evening. I hated to refer to Annette as my secretary. She was much more. A friend, a confidant, occasionally a conspirator, always a trooper. She must have been as tired as I was, but she didn’t show it.

‘You know what I do when I’m in over my head?” Annette said as she settled into a soft mauve, leather chair. ‘I get myself thoroughly fucked.” I chuckled to myself. Easy for a sexy little twenty year-old party girl to say. Turning away from the window, I paused to study the reflection of myself in a long mirror. A tall, trim woman, closer to thirty, tailored, successful, attractive but not pretty ... and pretty much burnt out by now.

“Thanks for the suggestion, Annette. But, I’m not like ... that. It wouldn’t work for me.” I’d started to say, “I’m not like you.” Which is true, but not kind. “Why not?” Her disbelief was sincere. I appreciated that. “Call up that artist guy whose been bugging you. He’s not bad looking.” She thought again. “All right, he’s not so great.” she giggled. “You really don’t have anyone special right now, do you?” Before I could object, Annette had collected the phone numbers of a dozen men that her friends swore were attractive and “great in bed.” Her plan was simple. All I had to do was call these good house¬keeping approved studs, pretend it was a wrong number, and maintain a conversation until someone asks me out.

The whole idea was delightfully sophomoric, and since it would never work, it seemed a harmless diversion. The chocolate account could wait. Anyway, I would probably do a better job with it after some diversion. I dialed the first number and was greeted by a smug, egotistical male voice on an answering ma¬chine. “Hi ... this is the one and only hot buns, Daryl. I’m not in at the moment, but honey, I know I wouldn’t want to miss your call.”

Annette listened to the rest of the message on an extension, practically rolling on the floor in laughter. Two more calls netted George, who was obviously not hurting for female company that night, and Don, who was far too anxious to take on anyone. By this time, we were having a ball.

On the fifth call, I hit pay dirt. He was an easygoing attorney. His voice was sexy, yet comforting as I apologized for dialing a wrong number and he said it was perfectly all right. He wasn’t doing anything, and if I wanted to talk, he would enjoy the conversation. He drew me out and I found myself dumping the past few weeks of frustration and anxiety on him. He bore the load effortlessly. Then the conversation took an intimate turn. As if reading my mind, he began sharing an erotic fantasy he had where he’d meet a woman’s eyes in a crowd and without so much as exchanging names, they’d join hands, walk into a nearby hotel, make love for hours and then go their separate ways.

He hesitated. I could tell he was sizing up the energy in our conversation thus far. Then he said: “I’m six foot, have blond hair, brown eyes, I’m wearing a leather jacket and I’ll be at the corner of Wilshire and Bedford in twenty minutes.” Click. The line went dead. Annette dropped the extension, “Come on boss lady, let’s fix your makeup!” I didn’t know if I could go through with it but Annette kept pushing every inch of the way, and with me wanting any excuse to get away from that chocolate account, I did it.

I felt like an utter fool standing on the busy corner in the pouring rain, waiting for a stranger to lead me off. Ten minutes passed in humiliating silence. Maybe he checked me out from across the street and changed his mind? I was ready to bolt when I felt him watching me. Turning slowly, I met a pair of sexy brown eyes. Without a word, he walked through the crowd and took my hand. I felt a jolt of electricity at the contact. The chemistry between us was overpowering. I wanted this fantasy as badly as he did.

Holding hands, we walked several blocks to the Hilton Hotel, where he had booked a room before meeting me. The door closed and we dropped to the floor in each others arms. So great was our urgency that he stretched aside my panties and fucked me through the fly of his pants. I came within seconds after his hard cock slid into my cunt. He continued to thrust like a raging bull for another few moments then came deep inside me with a great gasp of satisfaction.

Completely at ease with each other, we lay side by side on the floor, waiting for the resurgence of desire we both knew would carry us away again. I closed my eyes picturing his beautiful, throbbing cock. With the picture came a wave of desire. Rolling over, I let my lips trail down the line of fine hair of his hard muscled stomach and beyond. He groaned softly as my tongue flicked the tip of his spent masculinity. Dampening my lips, I gently pulled him into my mouth letting my tongue trace the swelling folds and veins. My actions defied him to move, When at last, he could no longer stand the precious agony, he carried me to the bed. I was ready, but it was his turn to tease. Spreading my legs, he slid two fingers inside of me while his thumb massaged my clitoris in gentle, damp strokes. For what seemed like hours, I hung on the edge of an orgasm. Each time I reached the brink of ecstasy, he changed his position or pace. The effect was devastating. When I was writhing and panting in a frenzy of mindless lust, he rolled me over on my knees, grabbed my long red hair with one hand, my breast with the other and fucked me like a dog. He couldn’t have known what sex in that position does to me, but he quickly found out. My body is trim, but my butt is full. When I’m on my hands and knees and it is turned up, my pubis bulges out behind me and my cunt lips loom large and part easily. As soon as he entered me, my vagina went firm with desire and gripped his shaft like it would never let go. My clit grew to a firm erectness that might frighten an insecure man, and my breasts were covered with goose bumps. Releasing my breast, he wet his fingers and applied them to my erect clit, rubbing it back and forth. My ass went into motion as though I were a horse trying to throw a rider. Only he wasn’t going to let himself be unseated. He was going to hang on and ride me all the way. And he did. I came with a scream and felt his ejaculation explode inside me!

For thirteen hours, we did everything a man and woman could possibly do together, without ever uttering a single intelligible sound. Finally, we showered together, shared a single tender kiss and went our separate ways.

When I showed up in the office the next day wearing a smug grin and the same clothes, Annette knew my catharsis had been a rousing success. During her lunch break, she had the phone number blown up and framed as a memento. Although I’d never break the magic by calling the number again, I’d like the mystery lover to know the ad campaign was a huge success, and his phone number still hangs in an honored place over my desk.