The Stranger (part 6)

This is an interactive story. I’ll be writing short bits and then asking for input from readers about where it should go next.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

There was a warm breeze, and it felt heavenly against Emily’s skin.

They stood on the balcony, overlooking the downtown street, buzzing with pedestrians and cars, bicyclists, couples and groups enjoying meals and drinks on busy restaurant patios. The hum of life surrounded them, the lights of the city blinking in reds and greens and yellows. A few stars, strong enough to withstand the glow of the city, twinkled above, and the moon was just past full.

Behind them, a woman was setting the table, and another was bringing in small platters of food.

The young man from earlier, Malcolm, appeared with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He said nothing, but simply poured the wine and retreated back through the open French doors, transparent white drapes fluttering on each side.

Charles waved his hand toward the table, a wordless shall we? to usher them into the next phase of the evening.

Emily and Charles spent the next several hours, laughing and getting to know one another in the usual way. They spoke of their children, their first lives with other lovers and spouses. And they did, indeed, drop of a few tiny pieces of cheese on passersby below, hiding and giggling like school kids.

They ended the evening in the usual way, as well. Charles walked her the few blocks back to her own apartment, took both of her hands in his, kissed the back of each, and bid her good sleep.

Over the next couple of weeks, the pair spent several nights between their two homes, visiting various pubs and bars and restaurants, getting to know each other better and better. Each night that Charles walked Emily back to her apartment, he’d hold her hands in his, kiss them, and bid her good sleep.

Until one night, when Emily stopped him. “Charles?”


“Don’t you think it’s time we maybe…kissed?”

He raised his brows, eyes widening a bit, sparkling as the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile.

“I think it’s been time for awhile, Emily…but I didn’t want to rush you.”

“You aren’t rushing me. I’m ready for this. I’m so ready for this.”

Emily’s breathing was visibly deepening, her cheeks flushing. Charles could see the signs of a woman in lust, and he was hungry to experience this next step.

She put the key in the lock, turned the knob and bid him follow her in, re-locking the door behind them. She felt his hands on her hips, his breath on her neck. She placed her own hands over his, pulling them into her, guiding them upward to her breasts. He pressed against her, and she was pleasantly shocked to feel his erection against her backside. She wasn’t expecting it, but it assured her that he would likely have no trouble in that regard, and she smiled to herself as she turned to face him, taking his own face between her hands, guiding him toward her for their first kiss.

There was a sweetness to it, like thick honey, slow and sticky, their tongues entangling in slow motion. She’d not kissed a man like this in so long, she nearly lost herself to it right there, but she managed to guide him, while walking backwards to her small bedroom.

She unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, as he untucked her shirt, unbuttoning the front. Somehow, they managed to remain connected, fumbling though the undressing, until they were both there, naked accept for their socks. They separated, long enough to remove them, and Charles found his pants on the floor, retrieved his wallet, and removed a condom.

“It’s been a while since I needed one of these, but I assure you this is new…not because I was presumptuous, but because I am of the fair mind to always be prepared. And I’ve always been endlessly hopeful.”

“Oh, shush…just put that thing on and get in here…” Emily pulled back the quilt and sheets and slipped under them, holding them open for him to follow her. He rolled the condom over his very awake cock, Emily’s eyes watching every move with anticipation. She was surprised by how much desire she felt, already wet between her legs.

Charles slipped into the bed beside her, wrapped his arms around her body, and found his way on top of her. She spread her legs invitingly, her hands moving to his hips, guiding him toward her. When the tip of his cock found her slit, she breathed in sharply, her mouth opening hungrily, and he slowly slid inside.

They moved together, as if they’d been with one another for years. It wasn’t quick, but it was passionate, and every kiss and touch was orchestrated by an intense desire that seemed electric.

They lay together, afterward, her thighs sticky with the evidence of pleasure. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she pressed her cheek against his chest. He smelled sweetly of sweat, and she noted that she loved the scent of him.

They both left the bed for a few moments, to clean up, and get some water, but they returned to sleep, his body and arms wrapped around her like a cocoon, until the morning sun glinted through the thin curtains, waking them.

Emily made them coffee and heated up a few of her homemade scones, and they enjoyed them in her tiny kitchen, still wrapped in the lull of the night’s events. There was a tangible change in their connection, and the air between them was pregnant with possibility.

There was a knock at the door, which startled Emily, who wrapped her robe more tightly around her and headed off to answer it.

Through the peep hole she could see a white-haired man with a beard in a pin-striped suit and a bowler hat. On his arm was a very young woman in a trench coat, with rabbit ears adorning the top or her head. How strange, Emily thought to herself, as she unlocked the door and opened it up.

“Can I help you?” Emily asked.

“I do so hate to cut into your morning, but I am under the impression that Charles might be here?”

“Um, who may I say is calling?”

“Tell him Virgil must speak with him for just the slightest of moments,” the man tipped his hat, and smiled, exposing a gold tooth. It took a few back-and-forths through her mind to place him, but she remembered the man from the street…the one who caught the note those weeks ago. The one who disappeared into a shiny black car and drove away.

“Just a moment,” Emily didn’t close the door all the way, but she also didn’t invite him in. Something about him seemed untrustworthy.

She padded quickly back to the kitchen, whispering to Charles, “There’s a man at the door named Virgil who says he needs to speak with you?” It was a question, rather than a statement.

Charles’s countenance shifted. He became visibly nervous.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

But, Emily followed, hiding by the edge of the kitchen, listening in on the conversation.

“Virgil, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I need the keys to my apartment. Malcolm and the others aren’t in today, as it’s Sunday, and I’ve business to attend to there,” he grinned conspiratorially and nodded toward the blond on his arm, who smiled stupidly and bounced her curls in response.

“Virgil, you weren’t supposed to be back until the end of the month!”

“I know, I know…but things change, brother. You’ll have to find another pad to crash. Maybe your girlfriend will let you stay here?” Virgil laughed, and it sounded horrible to Emily’s ears. She cringed. And then she cringed further upon the realization of what this meant.

That apartment didn’t belong to Charles.

She looked around the corner just in time to see the bunny girl blow a kiss as Charles closed the door and walked back to the bedroom, presumably to get the keys.

Emily didn’t say a word about it, but later that day, after they’d parted, as she looked wistfully with disappointment at the bulletin board in her storefront, she found, beneath a flutter of papers, a wrapped condom with a heart drawn on the package. It was tacked, very carefully at the edge of the package. On the back was an address, a date, and a time: 22783 W. 17th Street, Suite 3, Friday, 8 pm.

Emily didn’t know what to say…or think. Part of her was angry about the lie, and another part was frightened. Who was Charles? What about Virgil? And what were they up to?

The most interesting thing of all was…that underneath the anger and the fear…there was still desire.

Emily held the condom in the palm of her hand and considered her next move.

My inspirations for this part of the story:

–April Fool’s – Erotic Fiction Deluxe
–Tricks – 4 Thoughts or Fiction
–Blow a kiss – Wicked Wednesday
–(Sexy) Rabbits – MMM Monday & Lustitude
–Mrs. Fever let me know they should, indeed, drop a piece of cheese on someone’s head.
–Some time ago, Elliott suggested a condom on the bulletin board.

Remember, this is an interactive story. I’m taking ideas from readers and using those to guide where the story will go next. DM me on twitter (@brigitwrites), email me (, or used my contact form. Let me know where the story should go next. I’m a big fan of twists, and I’ve set things up for a big one, but I’m not sure what it will be. Help me out!

Aw yeah…look at me go with all those memes!

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