A Night With a Stranger.

I wanted to get laid that night.

My boyfriend for the past two years just walked out on me. He met a slut one day and they decided to go to Europe together. I thought my life was devastated when he told me he was leaving me. I locked my self up in my apartment and cried for days.

“I am a nice looking woman. I have a good slender body and a nice personality, so why in the hell was he leaving me for that bitch?” I kept asking myself.

I am still in my thirties, I have a good job and I was doing well for myself, so who cares what he thinks! It is his loss. That night I was all out of tears and I wanted revenge. Most importantly I wanted sex, raw passionate sex, to get my mind away from that idiot. I wanted to find a nice looking guy for a one night stand. So I took a taxi down town and I ended up having sex with the taxi driver. Well, how hard could that be in 1985 in NewYork?

I was dressed up in a sleazy red dress that barely hid any of my charms. He kept looking at me with the car’s rear view mirror. Our eyes met and we stared at each other for a few minutes. Was I taking a big chance here? Was he the guy I was looking for? This was the first time I was doing such a thing and I was terrified, but I did not back up.

He broke the silence first, “Is it the dress you are wearing or your eyes are a little red?” he asked.

I have not heard such an awful pick up line since a long time, but I was relieved that he was also interested in me. “No, I was crying all night and my eyes are all puffed up,” I replied.

I did not know why I was spilling my guts out to this stranger, and a taxi driver at that. He looked like a fairly handsome man whom I could use to help me release my built-up anger. He seemed a decent guy, clean shaven, in his forties with a fair complexion, so what the hell. We ended up in his place that night.

It was a small but tidy roof top studio on the upper side of Manhattan. We had a few drinks and we talked about trivial things at first. Then we walked out on to the patio overlooking the city. The scene from the terrace was not the usual landscape of tall bright skyscrapers one would imagine of NewYork. But non-the-less it was a nice view of the other side of the city with the far dim building lights beneath a dark cloudless sky. Everything looked good so far and the tension I had was slowly fading away.

There was a light early summer breeze that night so we sat on two recliner chairs staring at the night sky. He pointed out the names of the stars and the various constellations in the heavens. I was fascinated. I had not bothered to look up to see the stars in this town before. I did not know that I could even do that with all the bright lights suffocating this city.

He pretended to help me bring down the back of my chair so I could see better when he suddenly kissed me on the lips. I froze up waiting for his next move. He kissed me again and I surrendered to his touch.

His hands started to probe underneath my dress until he reached my wet panties. Suddenly, he stopped again. He looked in my eyes while slowly caressing my undies. His eyes were asking my permission to proceed. I moaned quietly giving him the go ahead to continue.

His other hands started to grope my breasts. He squeezed gently at first then harder until my nipples almost shot out of my tight outfit. He inserted his hands inside my dress and lightly caressed my tits and nipples. I was prepared for that night so I was not wearing a bra.

His cold hands were like electricity going through my entire body. He brought my dress all the way down and helped me take it off then threw it on the floor. That night I only wanted sex and I got my wish.

I was lying in a stranger’s apartment, entirely naked, with only my panties on. Suddenly, I remembered that I did not even know that man’s name.

Who cares. I was having sex with a complete stranger under a beautiful night sky and having the time of my life.

He stood up and started taking his clothes off. He had a fairly good body for a man who spent most of his time sitting in a car. He wasn't one of those muscular athletic men but he looked like he took care of his body. He had slight round muscle structure with minimal of fat on the waist and stomach.

He stood completely naked in front of me. His dick, a little hard, was dangling a few inches away. I thought that I was lucky to have picked that guy up the first try.

While still on by back I grabbed his cock and squeezed gently. We were looking directly into each others eyes. I sat up and pulled him by his shaft bringing him closer to me. I started playing with it, caressing the tip then squeezing and pulling to make it harder.

I kissed it a few times, then put his entire cock in my mouth. One of my hands was holding it tightly while the other was playing with his balls. I brought it out of my mouth and started licking it one inch at a time.nI reached his balls, kissing at first then licking until I put each ball in my mouth and sucked them as if they were large pieces of deliciously sweet candy.

I kept eating his cock for the next couple of minutes. I gradually felt the pressure building up and I expected his dick to explode in any second.

He tried to pull away, afraid that I did not want him to come in my mouth, but I kept going. He grabbed me by my hair and pushed his cock deeper inside my throat. I kept licking and sucking keeping his entire shaft in my mouth. He burst his seeds and I tried to drink it all up. His come kept flowing until it filled my mouth and started dripping out on to my chin.

I lay back on my chair waiting for him to recover. I spread my legs wide apart inviting him to go down on me and he obliged. With his tongue he licked my wet panties a few times. Waiving them aside he exposed my pussy and started licking it all the way up then down. Then he narrowed his attack closer and closer to my clit until it started to tingle uncontrollably.

My heart started to pound faster and faster with every stroke of his tongue. Suddenly, my heart stopped and a large surge of juices shot out of me. My nectar mixed with his saliva covered his mouth and face.

He lay back in his chair waiting for me to recover.

"By the way I forgot to ask you your name," I managed to say after regaining my breath from that wonderful orgasm.

"It is Murad," he replied.

“Can you tell me a story? please," I asked.

I did not know why I asked him that question. Maybe I wanted to learn more about him without getting too much involved in his life. I expected him to tell me about his experiences driving the taxi around NewYork. I did not expect the kind of tale I would be hearing next.

He brought back his chair to an upright position and started telling me this strange story.

“Berg was almost ten years old when he escaped with his family across the river. They bombed his village for three days. Almost every house in the village was destroyed. Many of his friends and neighbors were either dead or dying underneath the ruble of their own homes.

All the people in his village ever talked about were the killings and massacres which had been committed against his people. Every one said that their village would be next. So his family decided to run across the border to escape with their lives.

They were tired and hungry from days of running and hiding when they came across a small farm house. They were hoping to find shelter or buy some food for their journey.

They knocked on the door and an old man opened for them. He invited them in, offering what little he had of food and insisted that they stay in his house until they rested.

The old man was called Murad. He was living with his wife Aysha in that old derelict farm house.

That night a bomb shell struck Murad’s house nearly leveling it to the ground. Every one in the house was killed except for Berg and Murad.

For days Berg and Murad hid in that half destroyed house not knowing what to do. Murad was severely injured in that incident and his health was deteriorating rapidly. He developed a high fever and was constantly shivering all day.

Berg wanted to go to the next village to bring a doctor but Murad refused to let him go. He was afraid that Berg would be caught or killed.

Murad died the next day.

Berg was devastated. He lost his family, his friends and now this stranger who was kind enough to give him shelter when the world was abandoning him. He blamed himself for not insisting on going to bring the doctor earlier.”

When Murad finished this sad tale I was dumbstruck. I did not understand the meaning behind the story or the reason he was telling it to me. Two complete strangers whose lives were accidentally brought together in a terrible and unfortunate circumstance. Was their story mirroring our own? or was he telling me something else.

I was afraid to ask anymore questions after that. I kept trying to comprehend what I just heard that night. We continued sitting there looking at the night sky until the early morning light crept between the buildings across the city.

We went back inside Murad's apartment and snuggled up on the bed together. We played with each other for a while. I played with his cock and he caressed my nipples to get the blood flowing again then we had sex. It was plane old sex.

He climbed on top of me and thrust his dick in my pussy. We continued at it until we both simultaneously came together. That was the first time that I slept in someone else's apartment. I soundlessly slept until noon.

The next day I woke up feeling wonderfully satisfied and fully recovered from my boyfriend's treachery. I dressed up to go back home, eager to start my life anew. Murad offered to take me home but I declined. I didn't want him to know where I lived at that time until I get my head straight. He walked me out of the building and called me a cab. He kissed me goodbye hoping that this would not be the last time he would see me again.

"What ever happened to Berg?" I finally asked him with my head out of the taxi window.

Murad smiled and said, "he managed to reach the US, get married, had a son and a daughter and worked as a taxi driver until he died in this city last year."

The last words I heard while the car was pulling away were, "he was my father."

The End.