Strangers In The Night 16

A fine shiver raced up Kat's spine, and she knew it was more from the darkness that clung to the curves of the hiking trail than the autumn air that was far too cool for the Capri yoga pants and cropped tank that was her running outfit. Overhead, Spanish moss draped from the boughs of ancient trees, casting shifting shadows, and she questioned once more the intelligence of being here. The silence was broken only by the whispering step of her well-worn sandals on the dirt ground. There was not the usual crowd of joggers and nature wanderers that usually frequented Kat's favorite running haunt. Then again, she usually did not come here in the dead of night.

She startled at the sound of a cracking branch, and calmed only slightly when a stray cat emerged from the thick brush to whisk across her path.

What the heck was she doing here? She knew better than to listen to her friend, Danni, but at the time her words seemed to make perfect sense.

"You need to break out of your routine, Kat. Every day is the same! You get up, you jog, you have a yogurt for breakfast, you go to work and let that slimy-little-cretin-of-a-boss dump all his responsibilities on your plate, you come home, you watch Law and Order while you eat dinner, and then you go to bed. What kind of life is that?"

So here she was, one o'clock in the morning, pretending to be jogging while her heart was thudding with nervous anticipation, thinking that her routine really hadn't been all that bad. Was it?

Kat slowed as the woods opened to a small meadow. She stepped from the paved path, summer browned grass crunching beneath her feet, and made her way to one of several picnic benches that was lit by the feeble glow of a half moon. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the rarely seen sight of stars uncounted, usually concealed by the city's powerful illumination.

Her eyes dropped as another snapping branch disturbed the stillness of the night. In the heavy wood before her, a shadow moved in the darkness. It was not the slight movement of a small wood creature; the presence was large, yet graceful in its movements as it slid from the gloom of the trees. She froze as her uncertain nervousness quickly soared to panic, and as the man advanced on her with silent intent, Kat knew that she could blame no one but herself for creating this situation.

"You need to break out of your routine, Kat. Every day is the same! You get up, you jog, you have a yogurt for breakfast, you go to work and let that slimy-little-cretin-of-a-boss dump all his responsibilities on your plate, you come home, you watch Law and Order while you eat dinner, and then you go to bed. What kind of life is that?"

"Well, geeze, Danni, why don't you tell me how you really feel."The sarcasm on her tongue soothed the sting of her friend's words, but the truth behind them bruised her already aching heart.

Danni closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Kat. I know that was rather brutal," she opened her eyes, and caught Kat's hand in hers, "but I'm trying to be honest here. Just because he left you doesn't mean your life is over. Jake..."

"Jake," Kat said with a harshness that spoke volumes of the pain she had been carrying in her for the past few months, "didn't just leave because he didn't love me anymore, Danni. He told me... he said that it was like being with a corpse! That I was so unmoving and cold that it was a wonder that he hadn't found someone else sooner. He said..."

"Screw what Jake said. He's a moron who couldn't even get a job. I couldn't figure out what the heck you were doing with him anyway." Danni cupped Kat's face in her hands so that she was forced to look at her. "You are the least cold person I have ever met. Why do you think I hang out with you? Whenever I start feeling myself being jaded by the people I defend in court every day, I know I need a big dose of Kat. Five minutes after being with you, and your warmth and optimism helps me remember that I'm not my mother! Talk about cold and unmoving..."

Danni bounced from the couch, and pulled Kat to her feet. "What you need is something new to spark your interest, and I've got a great idea." Kat mumbled something derisive about Danni and her "great" ideas as she was pulled along.

The miserable woman was pushed into a chair at the kitchen table, and Danni pulled another up next to her. From her extra large, violent purple purse, she took out her small, notebook laptop. After flipping it open and booting it up, she typed in a few words and up popped a dating website.

"Oh, please. You can't possibly be serious."

"I am! You can meet a few guys on here, go out on a date or two, and remember what life was like BJTA."

"'BJTA?'"

"Before Jake the Ass." The two women giggled, and Kat felt better for it. For a lawyer, Danni wasn't always the most tactful friend, but she had the most giving heart Kat had ever known. "Anyway, since I know you won't do it, I already made your profile for you; a bio, your habits, hobbies... that kind of stuff." Danni cut over Kat's protests to add, "All you have to do to finish it is put in what kind of guy and relationship you want."

"Who said I wanted a relationship? I'm not ready to do this all over again. I don't want to date, or fall in love, or get married."

"Who says you have to?" Danni reached for the wireless mouse and clicked a few times, bringing up a screen that asked about relationship preferences. The list was rather staggering: pen pals, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, lovers, marriage, ménage a trois, open relationships, fuck buddy. "Maybe all you need is a new friend, but I honestly think, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, that you need to get laid."

She selected "Fuck Buddy," hit the submit button, and up popped another screen. There, with pictures attached, were hundreds of men who all wanted the same thing: SEX. No strings attached, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am fucking that required no emotions at all whatsoever beyond pleasure. Unable to help herself, Kat quickly scanned the first few men that the small screen allowed her to see without having to scroll down.

Each picture was followed by a raunchy screen name, age, sex, and general location. Below was a small bio, where the men quickly described, in the most base and simplistic vocabulary possible, what kind of fuck buddy they were looking for.

Kat read the first one out loud, hoping to dissuade her friend by the vulgarity of its words. "'If u want a hung stud to ride 2nite, then I am ur man. 10 in. long, and thick. Don't bother if ur a dog. I only fuck hot chicks. Big titties a must.' Well, there you go. The perfect man for me."

Danni rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Don't you get it, Kat? The idea is that none of these guys are the perfect guy. You won't be taking any of them home to meet your parents. This," she jabbed a finger at the screen, "is your chance at living your fantasy rather than the crappy life you've dug yourself into. You can escape reality with one of these guys, be whoever you want to be, do whatever you've wanted to do. Trust me, whatever the fantasy you've got hidden inside you, there will be a hundred guys willing and happy to oblige."

Kat was slammed back into the reality of the cold night as the man's rumbling deep voice spoke. "You must be Jessamine."

Kat had originally chosen the alias to protect herself, but quickly realized the anonymity of using a name that was not her own gave her a sense of freedom and power that became part of her fantasy. She was no longer herself, cold and unmoving as a corpse. The woman who responded to the online requests to be her personal fuck buddy was not the same woman who stuck to the same, dull routine for the past eight months. She wasn't even the warm, optimistic friend Danni thought her to be. Jessamine was bold and in control of her desires. She was wanton and promiscuous, and was willing to use any man for her own pleasure.

As the man neared, she saw that he was as he promised: well above six feet tall, and heavily muscled. The moon cast just enough light to see that his face was the same in his profile picture. It wasn't a face that most would call handsome. It was a hard face, with sharp lines and thin lips. She knew, without being able to see, that his eyes were a blue so light that they almost appeared to be colorless. His hair did not soften his appearance any; his onyx black hair was shaved so short that he would pass for military muster.

Despite the strength and hardness of his appearance, his voice was like honey. It was deep and smooth, with the sound of the south in it, in an oddly cultured kind of way. The way he spoke the name "Jessamine" evoked a sense of silk running over her naked body. Suddenly, Kat was no longer Kat. She was Jessamine. Her unease and fear was replaced by confidence and lust.

"You must be Devon." Kat wondered if he had the same need as she to be someone unlike herself. Jessamine thought the man was just as delicious and dangerous looking as she had hoped him to be.

His eyes, which glittered silver in the moonlight, slowly appraised her from head to toe. They lingered on the heavy swell of her breasts. She felt her nipples tighten in response, and Devon smiled.

"You are exactly like you said you'd be."

Jessamine smiled and said wryly, "There's little point to lying, when I knew we would be meeting."

"Very true." With a suddenness that took her breath away, Devon was upon her. Without touching her in the slightest, his head dipped down to the arch of her neck, and he inhaled. "You didn't tell me how intoxicating your perfume was."

Kat barely managed a timid whisper, "I'm not wearing any perfume."

His lips grazed her neck, and suckled the lobe of her ear. "It's only you," he groaned, and he backed her to the bench, licking and kissing his way along her jaw.

Devon's hands circled her waist as he lifted her to sit upon the table. Jessamine reached out to catch her fingers into the waist of his jeans, and she pulled him into the spread of her thighs. He leaned her back so that he could dip his lips down her collarbone and further. Needing to feel his lips on the aroused buds of her breasts, she pushed him away so that she could shed her tank. He watched hungrily as she unfastened the clasp of her bra, and, with a knowing smile, let her breasts spring free of their confines with a perky little bounce.

Jessamine then hooked a hand around the back of his neck, and pulled his head to the breast she held as an offering. His lips closed over the hardened nipple, and he sucked even as he ran the tip of his tongue across the aching tip so that she cried out with pleasure. She released Devon so that she could cup both mounds for him, and his mouth moved from one to the other; feasting upon her generosity with ever mounting hunger.

His hands were no less busy than his tongue, moving to push her pants over her hips and down her legs. Without the soft cotton as a barrier, his pants chafed against the tender skin of her thighs, yet Jessamine reveled in the sensations it created as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Through the rough fabric, she met the rigid firmness of his erection with the softness of her body, and, with the thrusting of her hips, proceeded to drive him wild with her shameless abandon.

When he moved to free himself for the claiming, Jessamine knocked his hand away. Devon looked up at her with his brow wrinkling in frustrated confusion, only to smooth away when she pushed him down. With that little encouragement, he slid his way south, the cleverness of his tongue tracing little paths of pleasure down her abdomen, into the valley of her navel, so to settle deeply in the folds of her femininity. Jessamine moaned her pleasure as he circled his lips around her nub, and then cried out as he suckled even as he had with her breast.

The wonder of his mouth upon her was unequal to anything she had experienced before. He did not merely kiss or lick, but consumed. There was nothing that escaped his attention, not one inch of skin neglected. And as Devon took everything from her body, he gave her the most incredible of delights. Quickly, the lapping of his tongue pushed Jessamine beyond the building of pleasure, and when it came upon her, it was as if waves of ecstasy were washing over her body.

Before she could even begin to recover, Devon was pushing his fingers into the well of her body. Slick from the thrill of her lusts, he slid in one, then two; pumping them in and out with a steady rhythm.

"Oh, god, yes," she moaned, moving her hips with the thrusts of his fingers. Devon stood over her, watching as she writhed beneath his touch. One of her hands moved to stroke her breast, pinching and rolling it between her fingers, as the other hand reached down to slide through the wetness Devon created. Her fingers slipped in and around his working fingers, exploring the pleasures of her body with him before moving on to the pleasures of his body.

The rasp of his zipper being lowered was accompanied by the growling of Devon as he attempted to keep control over himself. Freed from the confines of his pants, his cock was a pulsating testament to the glory of her womanly power over him. Jessamine reached for it, circling him as her hands descended, and grazing her nails along the silky skin as her hands ascended.

"Ahh, darlin," Devon hissed as he arched himself into her hands, "You're just asking for trouble."

Guiding him by his cock, Jessamine sat him down on the bench. She slowly eased herself to straddle his lap, pressing his rigid shaft against her slick center. She moved against him, rocking herself against the length of his cock. Devon gripped her hips and lifted her so that his smooth, domed head settled at her entrance. Yet Jessamine held herself away, teasing him with shallow thrusts of her hips that tormented him with luscious agony.

"I do believe that I am not the one in trouble here," she whispered in his ear. And then she plunged down, impaling herself fully onto his cock. The decadent sense of being filled with such a man was positively exquisite. Jessamine could feel his every inch caressing her from within. She threw her head back, delirious from the scents and sensations of Devon, and began to ride.

Like the leisurely delights of a merry-go-round, the rolling of her hips was at first slow and unhurried. Jessamine reveled in the velvet hardness of him sliding in and out; could feel the broadness of his crown plummeting through her slick depths, grazing against every nerve in her body.

As she moved with titillating indolence, Devon grasped at the full curves of her hips with clenching hands. The woman was like a goddess of sin, rising and falling at his lap with such wanton lasciviousness, that she took his breath away. A single dainty hand twisted painfully in his hair as the other followed the lines of muscles along his chest and shoulders. His eyes feasted upon the sights of her delectable breasts swaying and bouncing with her every move, the arch of her neck, and her mouth opening with a groaning gasp.

Then, as if she had lost herself to the power of their joining, Jessamine's movements quickened. The world spun away as she drove herself faster and faster upon him, and unable to resist her sudden, abandoned frenzy, Devon forged up and into her generous body. Their bodies came together with brutal force, and the silent meadow was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the bellows and cries of shared pleasure.

Devon pulled Jessamine down upon him by her shoulders so that he speared ruthlessly through to spill his lust deep into her. Jessamine's world shattered into shards of silvery light as the pulsing of Devon's cock pushed her beyond the edge. The ripples of pleasure rolled through her, and she collapsed from their power into his arms, heavily built with muscles that were left limp by their incredible release.

Their bodies heaved in tandem as they fought to pull enough air into their lungs to calm racing hearts. Devon chuckled softly, and squeezed Jessamine's ass. "I think I should get in trouble with you more often."

She smiled, thinking and wondering about the possibilities. Then Kat stilled, the enormity of it all crashing over in. What she did, so very unlike herself, with a man she didn't even know. She was not even certain that she knew his real name.

"Is Devon your real name?" The question slipped from her mind and out of her mouth before she could stop it.

After a slight pause, he asked, "Is Jessamine your real name?" Again, he squeezed her ass, and his tone dipped to a low rumble she could feel to the tips of her toes. "Does it really matter?"

Kat thought about her abnormal boldness with this man, the carnal sensuality that sparked between them, and the extraordinary sensations he created in her. "I suppose not."

He looked at her, and a shiver raced down her spine. It wasn't from the cold of the night, or dark shadows, or the truth that she had a stranger's cock sheathed within her body. It was the knowing flash in his eyes that promised another night of pure, unbridled passion. "Tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

"I've had this fantasy about dark theaters."

Kat leaned close, her lips brushing against his. "What a coincidence, so have I."