I Never Asked Her Name

Note: I have used the word condom several times, which is the British English word for what is known in America as a rubber.

As a writer of erotic fiction I often wonder what it would be like to be in the shoes of one of my characters. I write about all sorts of erotic encounters; the sort, which men dream of but my own sex life is pretty normal. I have a girl friend. Though we don't live together, we are close and the sex is good. I can't imagine writing about sex with my girlfriend though.

I had harboured this desire to somehow live out a fantasy for months. It wasn't that I was running out of ideas, just that I wanted to see if I could actually do something genuinely erotic and then put it to paper.. I didn't want to have to imagine for once. I wasn't sure what this scenario would be and for weeks I left the idea on the back burner. It was when I was writing a story the other day that the idea appealed to me again. It had to be erotic, but feasible. I decided, just once that I would go out and try and have sex with a complete stranger and write about it. It's a common enough fantasy but I had no idea how plausible or doable it was. I would try. I entered into this with a degree of excitement, trepidation and some guilt. Yes, I would be cheating on my girl friend. However, I wasn't married, not even engaged. She was a girlfriend.

It was New Year's Day and I had gone into town to see if there were any bargains to be had. One of my favourite haunts is Waterspoon's Bookshop. It has a nice Starbrook's coffee house, where one can have a chocolate cake and latte after browsing the books.

The city centre was quiet but there was enough lovely young women to at least give me some encouragement. I was pleased to see that the trend of leggings with no skirt or pullover was showing no sign of fading and there was many a fine, pert ass and cute little mound for me to ogle and feed the lust for my writing.

I meandered the quiet side streets, which look so quaint when there are few people about although I was concerned the bookshop might be closed, as it seemed very few businesses had bothered to open. It was New Year's Day, but I had figured, albeit wrongly that everywhere, or at least most places would be open. However, to my surprise Waterspoon's was indeed open and I went in by the corner entrance. I was about to take the lift to the third floor and the coffee shop when a flash of white caught my peripheral vision. I turned and almost had to catch my breath.

There was a girl behind the fancy postcard and stationery counter, who I swear had the best tits I've ever seen. I'm not going to be able to do them justice on paper, but I'll do my best. She was eighteen or nineteen I guess, with short dark brown hair and just the most butter-wouldn't-melt face I ever saw. She had dark brown eyes, a cute nose and full, rosy pink lips. To be honest she made Bambi look like the Elephant Man. Then there were her breasts. They weren't huge, but they were big. Not just big, but round like water melons, so that from whatever angle you viewed them, they were perfect. If that wasn't enough, her nipples had begun to point through her T shirt and brassiere.

I had no chance with this girl. She looked so good, she must have had no idea how good she looked and I suspect she was a virgin. I made an excuse to go right up to the counter and made a spurious enquiry about something. She spoke with a middle class, Daddy's girl accent and she really was just a total sweetheart. As confident as I am with the opposite sex, even trying to get it on with this beauty was futile. I thanked her for her assistance, while spending as long as was reasonably possible getting an eyeful of her puppies and caught the lift to the top floor.

Undeterred I browsed the wildlife section and then the shelves with politics and political biographies, which is an area I enjoy reading. There was a waft of coffee drifting my way from Starbrook's, and it won the battle for my attention with a polemical chapter on the British economy. I joined the queue and set my heart on a piece of hazelnut cake. The café was quite busy and I had begun to look for a place to sit before I had been served. Two places in front of me was a woman in her late thirties, with a beige pencil thin skirt, within which her ass cheeks nestled like a pair of peaches. She turned to the barista and I noted she also had a fine pair of tits, which were embraced by a lacy-looking bra, evident through her white blouse. Her hair was long, mousy blonde. I would say she was a legal type or at least a professional. She wasn't gorgeous but good-looking. I decided she was a candidate for my adventure. I would try to fuck this woman.

I was served presently and conveniently found my self in an area with no free seats and casually asked the woman if I could sit at her table. She said that she didn't mind.

'Everyone seems to be in here, town's quiet today.' I said, trying to engage her early on.

'Yes. The one's I needed to go to, were open though.'

'Got anything good?'

The woman, who spoke with a cultured but local accent was clearly not overly accustomed to being chatted up by a complete random and eyed me with a little suspicion I felt. I tried to make my body language as comfortable and reassuring as possible. I was happy though, when she was the next to speak and I took the opportunity to play all my cards right.

'Have you found the book you were looking for?' She asked.

I wasn't sure if this was asked out of genuine interest or politeness while I temporarily shared her space.

'Actually no. I was browsing the political section, but I got the urge for coffee. How about you?'

'Yes, I got Nigella Lawson's latest book, with a token that my Sister got me for Christmas'

'Oh Nigella Lawson. There's a woman.'

'Like her do you?'

'Like her! Doesn't every man?'

This was a good opening. I saw a way to engineer the conversation from hereon in.

'She's a domestic Goddess.' I could write a story about her.'

'A story, you are a writer?'

'Indeed I am. Erotic fiction is my genre. I am out today on a sort of experimental folly. To get inspiration if you like.'

'Erotic fiction. Oh!'

The woman looked genuinely interested.

'What do you mean by an "experimental folly."

'I intend to sleep with a complete stranger and write about it.'

The woman, possibly involuntarily, shuffled in her seat and adjusted her blouse. I admit I felt a surge of adrenaline as I contemplated how she might react and what she was thinking. She could either take me for a complete weirdo and move to a different table or find my idea a turn on. I wasn't sure what to expect.

'Really?'

'Yes.'

'Anyone?'

'Not anyone no. They need to be fuckable, if you will excuse my language.'

The woman's face appeared to brighten up at my use of the word "fuckable."

'Are you serious?' She asked.

'Of course. As much as I use my imagination, I think doing something like that will just make a great story as well as being enjoyable. I hope.'

'What do you do with the stories? Do you publish them?'

'I'm currently writing a novella, which I hope to get published, but most of my stories go on a website called Literotica.'

'Literotica! I've never heard of it.'

'Are you married?' I asked.

There was quite a pause when she said nothing. I had had some scruples about following this line of conversation. It was intrusive and she was still slightly ill at ease. Then she smiled, what I thought was a warm smile. Her frostiness suddenly thawed as if the dawn itself had suddenly broken over the horizon.

'No, I'm not.'

'Boyfriend, partner?'

'No. Not at the moment. I am going to surprise you.'

'Oh how?'

'I am bisexual. I am seeing a woman.'

She was right. This was a surprise. I suppose I should have been happy, in fact talking to a reasonably hot woman who had just declared that she was bisexual would normally be very interesting, not to say erotic, but I suddenly saw it as a possible fly in the ointment.

'I wouldn't have guessed.'

'What, too feminine am I?'

'It's not that, though you are feminine. I don't know, I just wouldn't have thought you were bisexual, but it's not based on anything.'

'Well I am.'

'I guess you must know these aren't random questions. I am not in the habit of asking women about their personal lives.'

'Yes, I worked that out. You're confident I will give you that.'

'I don't feel confident.' I assured her.

'Why have you chosen me? There are lots of attractive women.'

She gestured across the café. There were indeed a number of good looking girls and women of various ages, who might easily fit the bill.

'I saw you in the queue and I just thought. "She's the one, I want to fuck her."'

'If I say no?'

'I would look for someone else, I suppose, but I'm not sure now. I don't know if I could do this again. I feel like I have come this far and it's like the cork is out of the bottle and half the wine has been drunk.'

'And if I say yes?'

'If you say yes, I would like to go to a hotel and fuck you. I don't want to know your name even. I want to fuck you tonight, then say goodbye in the morning.'

'Do you have a girlfriend?'

I nodded my reply.

'You're not bothered about cheating on her?'

'I don't see this as cheating. It's in the name of art.'

'Is that what it is?'

She looked at me as she sipped her coffee and helped herself to a piece of my cake. Then I felt her shoe brush my calf. She looked at me in a way that was half way between desire and contempt.

'Then yes. I've not slept with a man for nearly a year and to be honest I wouldn't say no to a really good fuck. You're not a bad-looking bloke either. As long as you wear a condom, why not!'.

'What about your partner?'

'She won't know, will she. Anyway I would feel more guilty if I slept with another woman.'

'OK, well that's amazing. Where shall we go? What time do you need to be back home?'

'There's no rush, I'm not seeing her till Wednesday. Shall we find a hotel?'

At this point I have to say that this had been easier than I had thought. I don't know how I had expected things to happen. Here I was with an attractive woman, who I had somehow persuaded to sleep with me in the name of a good story. It felt weird.

We got up and walked down the stairs to the ground floor and out onto the street. It was quite mild for the time of year but rather gloomy.

'What do you do for a living?' I asked.

'I work for a car dealership as a Sales Assistant.'

'I know a gentleman should never ask, but how old are you?'

'Is it important?' She asked indignantly.

'Not at all, I had you down as thirty eight or something, so just wondered. It's for the story you see.'

'I was 41 yesterday.'

'Really! Many happy returns for yesterday!'

'Thank you.'

'You must let me buy you a drink. Let's go in that bar there.'

I ordered a glass of rum and coke and she had a vodka and lime.

I toasted her and our glasses clinked.

'Here's to great sex, your birthday and a Happy New Year.'

'Yes, cheers. Happy New Year to you too.'

A few more people were in town now than earlier. The results of the previous night's celebrations could still be seen outside with numerous broken bottles, spent fireworks and a smashed window in a nearby bank.

'Are you parked nearby?' She asked.

'Actually, I walked into town. You?'

'I caught the tram.'

'Well that's all good then. Shall we go the Wellcome Inn?' There's one behind the theatre.'

'Sounds good.'

'What about dinner? Are you hungry?'

She shrugged her shoulders.

'Let's see what they've got at the hotel.'

I gave her ass a playful slap and we walked the quarter mile or so up the hill to the hotel. It had a shiny, red and gold entrance. The man at the desk greeted us as though he would rather be doing something else. Clearly he was not happy in his work and having to work New Year's Day was not something he relished and it showed.

'Yes Sir.' He said, as if I had earlier done him some misdeed.

I proceeded to book a double room with breakfast for what I considered to be a rather pricey £90, but there you go. I was given two room keys, which were those sort of white credit card things. The hotel had an a la carte restaurant. There were only a few diners and we were seated straight away and we enjoyed a light meal. We agreed that sex on a full stomach was not the best idea and we opted for a Thai style starter, which we shared and a dessert each.

Afterwards we caught the lift up four floors. I looked into my companion's eyes on the way up and for the first time felt aroused. I suppose I had not allowed myself to believe this was all happening, but was now unwound and relaxed and felt completely horny.

The room was warm and decorated with terracotta walls and a couple of modern prints. The shower room was spacious and there was a honesty bar and Satellite TV.

'I'm going to have a bath.' She said. 'I like a long soak and I might as well get your money's worth!'

'OK, why not, shall I order a bottle of champagne?'

'If you like. Won't it be a bit expensive for you?'

'Oh it's OK, this is a one off, we might as well do it in style.'

I watched the soccer results while my companion soaked her body in the tub. My team won 2-1, which was good, so I was just about in the best mood ever when the porter delivered the bottle. I knocked on the bathroom door politely and took her a glass of the sparkling wine. She was up to her neck in the bubbles and looked delightfully relaxed. I lay on the bed again, but it wasn't too long before I heard the door handle and she appeared wrapped in a large, cream towel. We swapped places as I went for a shower, while she plugged in the hair drier. I had trouble with the shower controls as I always do, but after much fiddling got there in the end. I made sure I used every last drop of the free shampoo and shower gel and was quite fragrant when I emerged.

When I came out she was sitting up on the bed completely naked. The sheets and pillows, which were piled around her, were those silky ones, the colour of milky coffee. Her hair was now fluffy and luxuriant and she had a warm, pink glow about her face. She looked gorgeous and sexy. I let my towel fall to the floor and she had a good look at my body. I might be 40 years old, but I go to the gym and run regularly, so I hope I cut a reasonable figure. I sat on the bed and looked over her body. She had a full, voluptuous figure, her breasts rising to the little peaks of her large juicy nipples. She had a carefully trimmed bush and neat, pink pussy lips.

I lay next to her, our bodies touching and I tickled her legs with my toes. She looked at me minutely, surveying the growing shadow of whiskers and then she kissed me. She kissed me softly, so that shivers of excitement ran through all my nerve endings.

'I didn't expect we would kiss.' I said.

'Kissing is part of sex, I can't do it and not kiss, can you?'

'Not really, I just didn't think you would want to. I'm glad you do though. Your kisses are spot on.'

We kissed again and I stroked her legs. They were soft and smooth. We looked at each other. Her green-blue eyes twinkled as she looked at my dick and stroked it with her index finger.

'Do you want me to suck it?'

'I guess that would be a good start, yes.'

She looked at with reproof before licking the underneath of my cock. I winced and it twitched as she lingered around my glans. She held it between her middle and forefingers as she sucked me. She sucked me so slowly - lovingly almost. She was really very good. I lay there with my eyes closed enjoying the sensations, stroking her hair for a long time it seemed. In the end I had to stop her because I could feel I was getting a bit too close.

I sat up and squeezed her breasts, firmly but carefully. They were wonderfully soft and her nipples were just perfect. I sucked her breasts, and received a good measure of approval, both from her verbally and from her pussy, which my fingers discovered was flowing as if from a pot of honey, warmed by the sun. I continued kissing her breasts all over before moving in little stepping stones down her front until I reached her labia. I parted them with my fingers and licked her and lapped up all her lovely warm juices. I do enjoy giving oral sex, particularly when a woman is as wet as this one was. She smelled good too.

'What way do you like sex, the position I mean?' I asked.

'I really don't mind. As long as it's good sex, I don't think it matters.'

'Doggy then?'

'That's fine.' She said with a broad, naughty smirk.

I reached for the condom, which was one of those, which are meant to feel like the real thing and handed it to her. I always prefer the woman to put it on, it seems better and sexier that way. She slipped it on and rolled it along my absolutely rigid prick before getting on all fours. I was inside her straight away, due to her absolute arousal and I began to pound her pussy as I held on to her hips. She had a nice meaty ass and it quivered delightfully as I fucked her. I alternated my rhythm between hard fucking and long, slow glides. She had started off in the "looking for a contact lens position", but finished up almost flat on her belly with me still inside her.

Women express themselves in all sorts of ways when they have sex. This woman was one of the more vocal ones. She yelped out a loud moan with every stroke. I do mean loud too, almost distractingly so, but I was so turned on, it didn't matter. I was fucking a woman I had met four hours earlier, whose name I didn't know. I was really turned on and thoroughly enjoying myself. I am quite fit, but needed a breather and I asked her to turn over.

'Can you go on top?' I asked, wiping a bead or two of perspiration from my brow.

She didn't speak, but I lay on the bed and she climbed on me and guided my cock into herself. For a while she rode my cock as I fondled her breasts. We were both expressing our enjoyment in our own way. Her hair draped around my face in one moment and I was kissing her breasts in the next. She was a sensual woman and she knew exactly how to please a man. The tenderness of this position was quite lovely, but I decided it was time to move up a gear. I pulled her towards me and kissed her neck. Her reaction was as instant as it was rewarding.. There was a great sloshing, slapping sound of cock and balls against pussy as I pounded her cunt. She said she wanted to be fucked hard and she got her wish. Her moans now virtually had become squeals as she began to orgasm. When she came I felt like she was going to break me and the bed. It must have looked spectacular. She gripped my shoulders and threw her head back, with her thighs locking round me, vice-like I could feel her entire body tremble as she climaxed. I was close to coming myself but I am good at holding back, when it's necessary.

'Where do you want to come?' She asked, when she had recovered.

'Would you let me come in your mouth?'

'I knew you were going to say that.'

She dismounted and to my delight, she just lay on the bed with her head on the pillow and opened her mouth for me. I had already been close to orgasm, but she just sent me over the edge and it took no more than a couple of wanks of my dick and I ejaculated a huge load of spunk down her throat. Quite a bit went in her mouth, but more just ended up spraying over her face, on her chin and I even managed to get it in her hair for good measure. Let it be noted that I was also very, very noisy when I came.

I fetched a towel from the bathroom and wiped her down, but she insisted on washing it all off in the sink. She came back and we finished off the champagne while watching a film on the TV. It was a rerun of one of the Harry Potter adventures.