I Called a Stranger at One in the Morning

I’m back to writing, and before I begin, I want to apologize if there were any mistakes in what I wrote before. I write almost everything from my phone, in stolen moments, and sometimes being in a hurry wins out over wanting to do things well. This time I promise to take care with every word so you can really enjoy what I’m about to tell you.

I already told you how I started to like showing myself off, wearing very little, and feeling other people’s eyes sliding over my body. I also told you about that afternoon with three men at once. To keep the thread going, let’s remember that back then I was twenty-eight, with a firm body, light brown skin and, according to those who had been with me, an ass worth looking at. My breasts were average, neither big nor small, and at last I had stopped fighting all of that.

After that adventure I felt different. Freer, more confident. I’d lost the fear of having all the sex I wanted, and I discovered that fear was the only thing that had held me back.

The gym became my favorite place, and not just for training. Tiny shorts, thongs showing through, thin blouses that with a little sweat and no bra left little to the imagination. I enjoyed every day the way they looked at me. Over the weeks it stopped being a daring choice and became my normal way of going out. I’d finish training and go to dinner or for a walk dressed the same way, with no intention of changing.

One Friday, about a month after that, Mateo — a friend from the gym — suggested we grab something light to eat at a nearby food court. I said yes. We left late, around nine, and when we got there there were only a few people, but the few who were there couldn’t take their eyes off me. I was wearing a very short gray pair of shorts, ending right where my ass did, a string thong, and on top a loose but tiny sky-blue blouse. I had to measure every movement when I bent over; there were families around and, although the situation didn’t make me uncomfortable, it did make me a little shy.

“After this some friends are drinking beer nearby,” Mateo told me while paying. “Want to come?”

“The same ones from last time?” I asked.

“No, different ones. They’d just gone running and stayed to have a drink in the parking lot.”

I went with him. There were five guys and two girls, all in tight sportswear, sweaty, just back from working out. The atmosphere was calm, with laughter and cold cans resting on the hoods of cars.

We stayed a while and, while the others chatted, I stepped away with Mateo. I brought up that other night with his friends.

“And what do you tell them about me?” I asked, amused.

“I told them you’re mine,” he replied with a half smile. “That I only shared you with them for a little while.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or get serious. I liked the answer, that much is true. He came closer and kissed me, slowly.

“I like you a lot,” he murmured against my mouth. “It turns me on being with a woman as hot as you.”

“That word only works for me in bed,” I told him, laughing to ease the tension. “Honestly, I don’t know what to say to you.”

“I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend. I just want us to get to know each other and have a good time.”

I told him about my breakup, about how I was discovering new things, about how becoming exclusive to someone was not in my plans. And then he said what finally convinced me.

“I don’t want you to be exclusive to me either. On the contrary. Keep sleeping with whoever you want. Just let me be part of it. Let’s go out, fuck, and then you tell me everything you do with the others. We could even look for adventures together.”

I never imagined there could be a man who enjoyed something like that.

It was completely new to me, but the idea turned me on. Obviously I said yes.

***

It got late and we headed to my place. The conversation had left me wet, so while he was driving I leaned over and started sucking him off without caring whether anyone might see us at the traffic lights. When he reached my street, he parked.

“Want to come up and finish?” I asked.

“I can’t, I start early tomorrow.”

“Then give me your load right here.”

I kept going, and at the same time I pulled my blouse down and let my breasts out so he could touch them. It didn’t take long. There was so much that I tried to swallow it all, and some of it escaped, staining his pants.

“How do you shoot so much?” I told him, and we both laughed.

I cleaned myself up with some tissues I had in the glove compartment, got myself together, and went upstairs.

***

I don’t think I mentioned it, but I live in an apartment complex. Mine has five floors and my apartment is on the fourth. I almost always leave the curtains open. That night I came home fired up and sweaty, so I took off all my clothes without thinking about who might see me from the other buildings. I got in the shower, got out, dried off, and stayed naked. I turned off the lights and lay down on the sofa in the living room, in front of the window facing the building across from mine, and started touching myself.

The problem is that it’s incredibly hard for me to finish alone. That night I wanted to come with all my strength and, no matter how much I kept at it, I couldn’t get there. I thought about who I could text, but I still didn’t know that many men and I didn’t have the contact information for the ones from the other time. Then I remembered something: in my first story I told you that in a bar a guy had left his number written on a piece of paper. I looked in the purse I’d used that day and, to my surprise, there it was.

Nervous and turned on in equal measure, I sent him a simple “hi.” A couple of endless minutes passed.

“Hi, who are you?” he replied.

“The girl from the bar, the one in the black dress. You gave me your number on a little piece of paper.”

It was one in the morning on a Saturday.

“Aaah, of course, the beautiful girl in the black dress. I didn’t think you’d ever write to me.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“At the same bar where we met.”

I got straight to the point, no beating around the bush.

“Want to come to my apartment? I’m all alone.”

“Send me your location.”

I sent it in seconds. The reply came instantly: “I’m on my way.” I wasn’t really sure what I had just done. I was about to bring a stranger into my house in the middle of the night. But I’d already sent him the address; there was no turning back now.

I put on a loose fabric sleep shorts set, so short it showed a few inches of my ass, in a very pale pink that was almost transparent. This time I didn’t put anything underneath. On top, a little blouse from the same set, tiny and the same sheer pink; any sudden movement let my breasts slip out, and even so they were a little see-through anyway.

He arrived in about fifteen minutes.

“I’m outside already,” he texted me.

“I’m coming down.”

I got into his car and he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek.

“Wow, what a cute pajama set.”

“You like it?” I said, laughing.

“Obviously. It looks amazing on you.”

I asked him if we could stop and buy something to drink at a 24-hour mini market. When we got there, I got out with him.

“If you want, wait for me in the car,” he offered, surprised.

“No, I want to go in. It’s just that I like it when people stare at my ass,” I said, joking.

“Then we should hike that short up a little more, so it looks better,” he replied, playing along.

“Pull it up yourself.”

He was obedient. He tugged the fabric up until half my ass was exposed, and that’s how we went in. Inside there were only two customers and the security guard. The three of them froze, staring at me. I loved making them part of the scene; the guard and the guys couldn’t look away, and that turned me on until I started getting wet right there between the aisles.

***

Back in the car, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I wanted to be naked, I wanted to feel him inside me and, at the same time, another one in my mouth. I held out until we got there. The moment I got into the apartment, the first thing I did was take off my clothes.

“I’m so fucking horny,” I told him.

He got naked just as fast as I did. I got on all fours on the living room sofa, with the window open to the night. He came up behind me and thrust into me in one go, hard, again and again. His thrusts were loud, the impact of his body against my ass filling the apartment’s silence.

We stayed like that for a few minutes until I sat up and got on top of him. I rode him at my own pace, enjoying every movement, until I felt him coming from very deep inside. My back arched on its own and I screamed without holding back; it was delicious. But he still hadn’t finished and I was still on fire, with an energy that wouldn’t let me stay still. I wanted more, I wanted to do a thousand things.

The only thing I could think of was to get down on my knees and suck him off, still hard and wet. I stayed like that for a good while until he started coming. I took everything on my face and in my mouth; what went in kept spilling out while I kept going, and I didn’t stop until I got the very last drop out of him.

After that, everything slowed down. I went to shower, and when I came out I told him he had to go. I was still naked.

“I’d like to see you again,” I told him. “But I’ll be the one to look for you.”

I saw him out at the door, like that, completely naked. We kissed for almost a minute while he touched me, and it was incredibly hot: standing in the doorway of my own apartment, groped by a man I barely knew. When he left, all I could do was sleep.

I loved everything I did that night. I felt free, desired, exactly the way I wanted to feel. And believe me, the adventures are only going to keep increasing.

See you soon.