The Stranger (Wicked Wednesday #368)

My muse has been a flighty, uncooperative wench recently and really needs a good spanking. It took much longer than it should have to write this story, but I eventually got it done—despite my wayward muse.

I really couldn't resist the Wicked Wednesday prompt. My story "Dirty PillowTalk" was actually a bit of a tribute to my favorite Doris Day movie, Pillow Talk. For this story, I focused on the "A Guy is a Guy" song. This is an idea I've played with before—once in a private story I wrote for someone a long time ago and in "If You Dare." Although it stands on its own, it might also be a prequel to "His Turn."

Please click on the badge below the story and read all the other Wicked Wednesday posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)

Website: http://www.riarestrepo.com

Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RiaRestrepoAuthorPage

The Stranger

By Ria Restrepo

Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

I was staring, and I knew I should stop. Any moment, he was going to look up from his phone and catch me gawking at him like some moon-eyed teenager. That would be incredibly embarrassing, yet I couldn't make myself look away.

Since I first saw him, I tried coordinating my visits to the nearby coffeeshop for my morning caffeine fix at the same time, hoping I'd see him again. Much to my pleasure, I did. He'd always get his coffee and sit for a while, busily doing something on his phone. It seemed the merciful universe gave me this opportunity to obverse the most intriguing man I'd ever encountered.

If you asked me what it was about him that captured my attention so thoroughly, I couldn't point to any one thing. He was a guy like so many others—good-looking, to be sure, with strong, masculine features. Despite his thick mane of silver hair, he looked to be in his prime, the lines on his face only making him more attractive. Then there were his eyes, which were bluer than a cloudless sky.

Maybe it was the sound of his voice as he ordered his coffee every morning that hooked me. The warm richness of it was an aural aphrodisiac, sending shivers of delight rippling throughout my body, making every sense come alive. It was a good thing I was sitting down the first time I heard him, because I swore I had a mini-orgasm.

The polite way he smiled at the barista who shamelessly flirted with him was also strangely enchanting. I took an unreasonable amount of satisfaction that he didn't seem interested in what she was clearly offering. Although I empathized with the cute blonde, I found her irrationally irritating.

I should have been spending every waking moment getting my specialty bookstore ready for the grand opening, but instead, I was lingering there over my coffee, gawking at my handsome stranger.

Just when I was about to exercise some self-discipline, he looked up from his phone and his gaze met mine for the first time.

My heart stopped for a couple beats, then picked back up double time.

His mouth slowly curved into a mischievous smile. That was not the same bland look he gave the perky barista and it thrilled me to no end.

For a long moment, we stared at other, the air between us growing charged as the attraction built. A wildfire of need flared to life low in my abdomen, tightening the muscles there and even lower. I shifted in my seat, feeling the slick evidence of my desire sliding between my cunt lips.

His gaze dropped to my mouth and I realized I'd been absentmindedly sucking on the spoon I used to stir my coffee. I quickly set it on the table, then rolled my eyes at myself.

He flashed me a panty-dropping grin.

Before I could do anything about it, his phone buzzed, recapturing his attention.

Hmm, panty-dropping. Now there was an idea. But did I dare? Fuck yeah.

Not giving myself a chance to chicken out, I went to the restroom and slipped off my panties. With them discretely balled in my fist, I returned and approached him.

He was still looking down when I got to him. I draped my panties on his phone and headed for the door of the coffeeshop. Just as I pushed the door open, I looked back over my shoulder and saw him holding up the scrap of black lace.

Recognition dawned on his face and his gaze met mine again.

I gave him what I hoped was a very coy smile, then turned and walked out of the coffeeshop.

Halfway down the block, I glanced back and found him hot on my heels. His eyes were blazing blue fire and he had the steely expression of a predator stalking his prey.

My heart rate quickened, the pounding in my chest in syncopation with my quick steps. Pure excitement raced through me despite the risk I was taking—maybe even because of it.

At the end of the block, I turned down the alleyway and headed for the back entrance of my bookstore. I looked over my shoulder to see him follow me around the corner. I flashed him another flirty smile before I let myself in. Leaving the door open, I leaned against the wall just inside and waited.

He came in, found me, then closed the door behind him. "What is this place?"

"It's my bookstore."

He looked around and raised an eyebrow at a display I was putting together featuring books on the Kama Sutra. "What kind of books?"

"Everything you could possibly want on sexuality."

"Fascinating." He braced an arm on the wall beside my head and leaned closer. "That was a bold play back at the coffeeshop."

"I know. I just couldn't resist."

His warm breath teased my ear. "I could have been a very bad guy."

"The first thing I did was install an alarm system. There's a panic button right behind me—if I think I need it."

Shifting back, he pulled a gold badge from his pants pockets. "Luckily, I'm a cop."

"Some would say that makes you more dangerous."

"What do you say?"

"Do you have handcuffs?"

"Not on me."

"Pity."

He chuckled. "You are a naughty girl."

"Not usually, but for you, I definitely could be."

"Mmmm, I like the sound of that." He put the badge away and retrieved my panties from the same pocket. "Did you want these back?"

"No, they're yours."

"They're rather damp." He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"That's why I thought you should have them."

He shoved them back in his pocket. "I made you wet."

"Oh yeah."

Leaning close again, he lightly trailed his fingers up my inner thigh. "Do you taste as good as you smell?"

"Only one way to find out."

I gasped when his fingers found my slick folds, then shuddered as he delved between them and grazed my clit. It was a good thing I had the wall for support, because I didn't think my weak knees would hold me up for much longer. Craving more, I shifted my legs further apart to give him better access.

"I love how fucking soaked you are," he rasped in my ear.

"All for you."

He groaned, then brought his wet fingers up to my mouth. With a feather-light touch, he carefully painted my lips with my own juices.

Once they were entirely coated, I parted them and snaked my tongue out to lap up some of my cream from his fingers. Enjoying the tangy flavor, I sucked him into my mouth, slow and deep.

"Such a dirty girl." He withdrew his fingers and claimed my mouth in a fierce kiss.

I kissed him back just as hungrily, loving the combined taste of him and me. Needing to feel him, I reached down and stroked his blatant erection through his slacks.

He pulled back. "Take it out. See how hard you made me."

Only too eager to comply, I unzipped his slacks and freed his hard length. He filled my hand perfectly, the head of his cock already glistening with pre-come. I gripped him firmly and slid my hand up his shaft, using my thumb along the underside to give him more pleasure.

A low rumbling sound reverberated deep in his chest as I moved my hand up and down his cock in a steady rhythm. He returned his fingers to my drenched slit and circled my clit in time with my strokes.

Staring into each other's lust-filled eyes, we got each other off, our steamy breaths mingling as our arousal built.

He slid two fingers into my tight sheath while his thumb worked my clit hard and fast. My inner muscles fluttered around him as my orgasm threatened to overtake me.

"Come for me, dirty girl."

Unable to resist him, I let go and surrendered to the intense pleasure he gave me. Even as my body quaked from the aftershocks, I managed to keep jacking him off, increasing my pace.

"I'm going to fucking come all over that pretty skirt."

"Please, do," I said between heavy breaths. "I should have a souvenir too."

"Fuck!"

With several harsh grunts, he shot his thick pearly load all over the front of my black skirt.

We stayed like that for several long moments as our breathing calmed, then his phone buzzed.

He cursed, but retrieved it. After a quick glance, he looked up a me. "I hate to do this, but I have to go."

"No worries."

"We're not finished here." He gave me a brief kiss, then he was gone.

I probably should have been annoyed about him running out on me, but I felt sure I'd see him again.

What I didn't know until much later was that my bold move in the coffeeshop would send me down a path that would change my life. Because he wasn't a stranger at all. That inexplicable, almost instantaneous chemistry was my soul recognizing the one person who sang a song only I could hear. And what a song it was.