by Opal Rai
"This is absolutely mind-boggling. Who you know you sound like? You sound like Jennifer Garner during her slumber party in 13 Going on 30."
"I know I've been working out," Liz replied, flexing her arms. "But I don't quite have the biceps yet."
"You could give the other Jen a run for her money, babe. Seriously. If you keep at it, you're going to make me look like the DUFF."
"Oh please."
Jen laughed. "Back to the point. Why does it sound like you actually like him?"
"Hang on."
SweetStranger: I'm talking to Jen right now. Can we talk tonight?
Anonymous: Can't wait.
"Tell him that you're busy tonight," Jen sniffed.
"Why?"
"You promised me you'd come bar-hopping tonight."
"I did?"
"Yes! Last week!"
"Come on, Jen. You know that's not really my scene."
"Liz. You need to get laid. My vagina is weeping for you as I watch you get hotter."
"What if I don't want to get laid?"
"Why?" she demanded, "Because you'd rather write love ballads to Prince Charming? The Hunchback of Notre Dame is probably who you're chatting with."
"He's not a hunchback!" Liz laughed. "And fine. I'll tell Michael that we're having a girl's night out."
"Good idea. Oh, right... you've seen his washboard abs and his di -”
"JEN!"
"Just tellin' it like it is. See you at nine, babe," she blew her a kiss and left.
Liz sighed. She was not looking forward to tonight.
Jen popped her head back into the opening to her cubicle. "And for the love of God, do not show up in jeans."
SweetStranger: Hey! Sorry for leaving you hanging last night. Jen was being Jen, and I did promise her that I would go.
Anonymous: How did it go?
SweetStranger: The usual. Chatting about our boring lives over drinks.
Anonymous: Really? Nothing exciting happened during bar-hopping night?
SweetStranger: Jen is concerned that I've been having an online affair for five months and still haven't gotten laid. I almost made her proud when I got hit on.
Anonymous: Who hit on you?
SweetStranger: This young accountant working at EY. He came over and complimented me, and Jen tells him that if he can make me laugh he gets to buy me a drink. So he tickled me :)
Anonymous: So you went home with him?
SweetStranger: Nah. He just flirted a little and got my number.
Anonymous: Okay.
Anonymous is typing...
A few seconds had gone by, and he was still typing, so Liz set her phone down and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She was in the parking lot outside the gym. It was true that she had been receiving considerable more attention from other men since she started working out and cutting back on junk food. But Anonymous never brought it up when she sent him photos.
Anonymous: Guess it was a little naive of me to expect that a cheater would be exclusive.
Liz re-read his message in disbelief.
SweetStranger: Excuse me?
Anonymous: Go ahead and sleep around. Doesn't make sense for you to stick with one guy.
SweetStranger: I'm not sure what your problem is, but I gotta go. See ya.
Liz quickly switched her phone to airplane mode and climbed out of her car. She didn’t want to hear any more bullshit. A wave of cool, air-conditioned air washed over her as she walked into the gym. She felt the anger in the pit of her stomach threaten to boil over in the form of tears.
What the hell is wrong with him? What right does he have to speak to me like that?
She walked over to the free weights and began her routine. This was her time. Her time to relax and gather her thoughts, but here she was fuming over a faceless man she had met over the Internet. She couldn't help but think about him. She loved talking to him, more so than she ever did when she had first met Michael. He had coaxed out the confidence that her listless marriage had shattered. She loved coming home to questions about her day, teasing and bantering, and knowing that she was desirable; he took a genuine interest in her life. Michael never bothered asking.
Liz exhaled sharply and heaved the weights back onto their stand. She forced herself to think about something else and remembered that Michael had seemed awfully suspicious yesterday when before she had left with Jen.
“Where are you going?” he had demanded.
“Girls’ night out, Mikey,” Jen replied, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms.
“I wasn’t aware that you needed to put on a skintight dress and perfume to meet Jen,” Michael snarled.
Liz had paused by the door, glancing between Jen and Michael uncertainly. They were glowering at each other with such intensity that she almost expected them to begin circling each other.
“You don’t give a shit about her unless it suits your needs,” Jen said, her voice dangerously soft. “Let’s go, Liz.”
And with that she had seized Liz and marched down the driveway, slamming the door in Michael’s enraged face. Jen described various aspects of Michael as they drove, painting a portrait of him with strings of colorful expletives as Liz listened with a small smile on her face. They pulled into the parking lot of the bar, and Liz walked around to pull Jen into a hug.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t you dare thank me,” Jen mumbled into her hair. “That asshole has had it coming for a while.”
After the bars, Liz had gone home with Jen and spent the night at her place. She groaned now, thinking of what she would come home to when she returned tonight.
Still, she found it odd that Michael had expressed a hint of… jealousy? He hadn’t paid her any attention over the course of an entire decade, much less cared where she went. She doubted whether he even knew what she looked like anymore or noticed the changes in her physique.
Do I even give a damn if he's suspicious? It’s not like he’s ever been straight with me in this marriage. It’s only a matter of time before it ends.
Liz wiped the sweat from her face with the collar of her t-shirt and grabbed her bag. As she walked back to her car, her thoughts wandered back to Anonymous. A slight itch in the back of her mind nudged her towards an explanation that would explain his behavior, but she immediately dismissed the idea as a result of narcissism on her part.
Sighing as she climbed into her car, she pulled out her phone and tapped an icon to turn airplane mode off. Within a few seconds, a message from the SilentMeet app popped up.
Anonymous: Stranger. I apologize sincerely for my rude behavior. I had no reason to get jealous. We met online and you don’t owe me exclusivity of any sort… my reaction was all kinds of stupid on my behalf.
Anonymous: It’s just that, recently, I’ve been aware of my feelings for you. I don’t know how to explain it. I love talking to you. I live for the rush I feel when you send me a message. It’s frustrating and confusing for me… that you have such control over me with your words. I don’t know if that makes any sense. I’m incredibly sorry. I hope you can accept my apology.
Surprised and happy, Liz instantly typed out her reply.
How could I not forgive you?
No. She erased it.
As the emotions washed over her, Liz realized that what she wanted more than anything was to hold him in her arms. Tell him that he had no reason to be jealous to begin with, because she felt the same way. Hell, she had even set her SilentMeet account on private; she used it for the sole purpose of chatting with him. Plant kisses all over his face and tell him what he’s done to her. Liz smirked. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted.
SweetStranger: Apology accepted… if you meet me in Room 151 tonight at the Marriot.
SweetStranger: I have specific requests of you tonight. If you acquiesce all of them adequately, I may find it in me to forgive you.
She had never done this before.
She felt like a criminal, sneaking around and waiting
for a secret meeting. She wanted to see him and understand his secrets. Liz had sent him instructions on where to come, what to do, and how to do it in order to earn her acceptance of his apology. She hadn't waited to see if he would agree or not, mortified by the idea of being rejected.
If he doesn't show ... at least I have a nice room for the night. And a bottle of Chardonnay to myself. A win-win situation if I've ever seen one.
Now she lay sprawled across the bed, wearing nothing but an old, over-sized T-shirt whose hem grazed her leg mid-thigh. She had considered wearing the black lace lingerie he liked, but she decided that she would have been too embarrassed by her own foolish hopefulness if he never came. If he did come... well, she had worked hard enough to achieve her figure that she was quite comfortable being nearly naked.
It was eight o' clock. Liz decided to use the room to its fullest, reminding herself that she did pay a hundred for the night. She poured herself a cup of wine, laid on her stomach, and began flipping through the channels. She found herself checking the clock every few minutes and mentally berated herself for it.
Eight-thirty. The nervousness kicked in. She didn't have the slightest idea when he would arrive, if he did at all. This fact made her all the more reluctant to check her phone's messages. She stared at the sitcom playing on screen, neither paying attention nor attempting to. She up-ended the remnants of the glass and stood up to pour herself another one.
Suddenly, she heard a knock on the door. Her heart leaped into her throat. Was he here?
"Front desk," a soft male voice called from outside.
Liz sighed, irritated with herself. She slid the remote into her hand and turned off the TV. Forgetting the way she was dressed, she walked over to the door and opened it to a tall man in a black hoodie.
He pushed into the room. She caught a glimpse of his smile underneath his hood. Before she could scream, he grabbed her hands and pinned her to the wall, kicking the door closed behind him. Gently, but firmly, he pushed her jaw up and kissed her neck.
"Stranger," he mumbled with his lips against her neck.
"You... you're... Anonymous?" she gasped.
"Stefan," he replied, grazing his teeth against neck. "And you?"
Liz tried to slow her breathing as he continued his trail of kisses down to her collarbone. He smelled like lemons. She tried to free her arms so that she could get a look at his face, but he tightened his grip on her. How did he expect her to reply while he was doing this to her?
"Liz," she finally managed to get out.
Without a moment's hesitation, Stefan threw Liz over his shoulder and carried her over to the bed. He was playing along with her fantasy. While she struggled, he reached into his pockets and pulled out a soft length of cloth to tie each of her hands to the bed posts. He mounted her and pushed her shirt up to her mouth to gag her. Still straddling her, he reached for the lamp on the bedside table and shut it off. She watched the outline of his figure pull his hood down. She strained her eyes to get a look at his face, but she could only see his silhouette.
Stefan leaned over and massaged her breasts, licking her sensitive nipples occasionally. She could barely keep her voice down, but her sounds were muffled through the cloth of her shirt. He took one in his mouth and sucked on it aggressively, pulling on the other with his hand. She protested loudly, but settled to content herself with a quiet moan, letting a wave of pleasure wash over her. Fortunately, the rooms on either side of them were vacant.
He went in for her neck again while groping her breasts, with the clear intent of leaving a hickey behind her ear, away from the eyes of any man in her life. Once he had finished, Stefan dismounted her. Liz protested again, wanting nothing more than for him to continue. In the dark, she could vaguely make out that he pulled off his sweats. He turned back around and pulled the gag out as Liz glared at him.
"Why did you -”
Without bothering to let her finish, he reverse-straddled her in sixty-nine position and pushed his cock against her lips. She obliged and felt her core tense in pleasure. He pushed in deeper, knowing from their dirty chats that she loved giving head. He used his hands to find her clitoris; then, let his tongue do the rest of the work. Liz didn't even pause to let herself feel embarrassed by thinking about how wet she must have been. Everything felt too warm and urgent. She tried to moan in order to relieve some of the tension, but he was so far into her mouth that it prevented her from doing so.
Exhaling sharply, his legs began to tremble as he finished in her mouth. It was a lot, and she had no choice but to swallow. He pulled out and started kissing her slowly, alternating between her lips and her breasts, making her beg before he pleased each spot. She could smell herself - taste herself on his lips for the first time. He slid down again and pushed his tongue deep into her. She yelped in surprise. He responded by using his hands, too: one to massage her breast and the other to stimulate her clit. His warm breath and his cold hands made her feel numb with ecstasy; nothing else was of issue but that he continued.
Liz thought she could be addicted to this, never knowing how good foreplay, how good oral sex, how good fingering were. Until now, the men in her life had never thought to please her, only what they wanted until they came. Stefan began moving even faster, and all thoughts in her head ceased. It was all she could do to stifle her screams to moans and struggle to move her locked arms. She wanted to grab his head and push it in. This was unlike anything she had ever imagined when she pleased herself to thoughts of him.
He lifted his head and she begged for more, but he ignored her. He straddled her once more and moved his hand roughly down her body, pausing at her belly button and then again just outside her vagina. She was expecting it, pleading for it, hoping that he would finger her, he continued down to her inner thigh. Stefan seemed to take pleasure in watching her struggle and lose control as he teased her torturously. He would move his hand onto her vagina and dip a finger in, before he quickly removed it and resumed caressing her inner thighs. Her legs wouldn't stop twitching from the excitement, her body growing weak on her.
He decided it was time. She was finally weak enough. He removed her arm restraints and stood her up, pushing her bare ass back against the cold wall. Chills ran down her spine in anticipation as he drew closer with something in his hand. He clicked a switch and it began vibrating. He pushed it up into her, and she had barely gasped before he pushed his hand down to then massage her clit. It took no more than thirty seconds for her to cum and collapse against his chest.
He held her there briefly, kissing the top of her head as he pulled out the vibrator. But he wasn't done with her. He roughly pushed her back against the wall and stuck two fingers up into her. She could barely stand, but every time her knees buckled, his fingers went deeper into her. She was already sensitive from coming, and she could hardly last much longer. Just as she was about to cum again, he stopped.
Hissing in frustration, she seized his neck and jumped up, straddling his waist. She could hear him breathing heavily now, betraying the fact that he was on edge, too. He moved forward until her back was pressed against the cool wall once again, and she let him thrust into her as she clawed at his back and bit his neck to keep silent. She couldn't believe how this position felt; how anything but cowgirl felt. It didn't take him long to cum. She felt his warmth flood into her and allowed herself release at the same time.
She dismounted Stefan and tugged on his hand to pull him into the bathroom while they cleaned themselves up.
Before he could stop her, Liz quickly flipped the lights on. Startled, his hands jumped up to shield his face, but not before she saw him. Pulling him towards her, she gently pulled his hands away. Cupping his face in the palm of her hand, she pushed his face towards her and gently kissed every inch of his burns, ignoring the way he averted his eyes and resisted against her hand.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
His eyes finally snapped to hers, and he furrowed his brows in confusion.
"That's it?"
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"That's it."
His features relaxed, and he returned her affection with a small smile before he spoke.
"Sweet stranger."