by Meg Ripley
“Please stop thinking those things,” he pleaded with a pained look on his chiseled face.
“I was watching you. Figuring out how to approach you, talk to you...to show you. And then I heard them, Charlotte, and I had to intervene,” he tried to explain emphatically.
She should have been frightened to learn that he'd been following her, particularly given the display of strength she'd just witnessed, but she wasn't. The gentleness in his eyes held her captive now and she could not reconcile that gentleness with violence in that moment. “Why,” was the only thought that came to her mind.
“I think it would be best to get you home for now. You've been rather shaken, and I will explain more later. I promise.”
He met her eyes, and the determined expression in his told her there was no point in arguing. In truth, her body was still feeling overwhelmed by what she knew would have taken place had the stranger not intervened—had he not saved her. She was also more tired than she could remember being in quite some time, so she nodded and let him escort her the remaining few blocks to her home.
When they arrived at her house, he continued to follow her to her front door. She found her keys hidden at the bottom of her purse and inserted them into the lock. Charlotte half expected the stranger to follow her inside, but he lingered on her door step. “Um, do you want to come in?” she queried, not certain it was appropriate to invite a stranger off the streets into her home, but given that he'd just saved her from a trio of sinister thugs, she felt rude sending him on his way.
“Thanks, but you should just get some sleep. Rest assured, we will meet again soon.”
He reached for her hand slowly, careful not to scare her, and raised it to his lips. He kissed the soft skin of the back of her hand and then released her just as gently. And then he was gone. He turned, strutted down the front walkway and was out of her sight just seconds later. While she wasn't big on following orders, the stranger's words only seemed to confirm how tired she really was. Charlotte climbed the stairs to her room to collapse on the bed, asleep only seconds later.
****
She awoke early the next morning—a good thing given that she'd forgotten to set her alarm the night prior. She showered robotically, washing her hair and face, and soaping up. But as her slippery hands ran over her body, thoughts of the stranger came to mind. His tall, muscular body and unusually chiseled features; the iridescent markings that adorned his face; his dark hair—when she saw it beneath the street light's glare, it seemed to shimmer iridescently like the markings on his face. And she could have sworn his tanned skin looked somehow paler last night than it had when she'd seen him in the bar and there was a slight azureous hue to his complexion.
The more she thought about the stranger, the more her body responded to her touch, sending tiny sparks of arousal coursing through her veins. She indulged in the sensations for a moment, enjoying the throbbing that began between her legs as she rubbed her soapy fingers back and forth across her nipples.
And then her alarm sounded, letting her know it was time to get moving and shaking Charlotte from her erotic play. She dropped her hands, shut off the water and hopped out of the shower. She had twenty minutes to dress, brush her hair, grab a quick bite to eat and then get to work before her boss lectured her on the consequences of tardiness—like he did the only time she had been late for work this year.
She was working a double shift today; a fill-in for another waitress with a pressing engagement. Though, if it turned out she'd be stuck chiding inebriates at a bachelor party again today, Charlotte swore she'd be walking out and leaving Michael to entertain the group. “Let Michael dress up in my uniform and spend the night being manhandled. See what he thinks of the naughty little things then,” she amused herself and then darted off to finish her morning routine.
She locked the door behind her as she left her house and glanced surreptitiously down the street. Though it was broad daylight outside, her run-in with trouble last night still had her feeling a little uneasy. Charlotte squared her shoulders and made her way down the front walkway. She wasn't going to cower at home forever, so it was time to get to work.
Eight hours later, she wished she had opted to cower at home. She couldn't remember a Sunday ever being so busy. And while most of her customers were pleasant enough, she really wished she could tell them to go eat elsewhere.
“What a horrible thing to think,” she chastised herself. But, with several hours still remaining on the clock, she thought her advocacy for another sports bar didn't sound like a terrible idea.
To Charlotte's surprise, she made it through four more hours of waiting on customers. And even more shocking to her was Michael's catching up with her on her way back to pick up another order.
“You've been working your butt off, Charlotte. Go ahead and take twenty minutes for yourself.”
He patted her back in a cordial “way to go” manner, and then took the tray and order pad from her hands. She was baffled until a thought came to her mind suspiciously. She turned and looked toward the darkened corner of the bar, and there, at the same table he'd occupied the night they met, sat her stranger.
Funny how he went from “the” stranger to “my” stranger, Charlotte mused silently as she walked over to him slowly. A smile crossed his face briefly at the same time, and she knew that somehow, he had heard her observation.
“Hello,” she greeted him when she stood before his table. It wasn't what she wanted to say; she wanted to know how he seemed to be influencing her movements; why he'd followed her last night; how he appeared to know everything she was thinking; and how on earth did he acquire some uncanny power over her boss. The latter made her grin, thinking of the good she could do with that kind of control over Michael—new uniforms, longer breaks, and absolutely no double shifts! But, given that her stranger was the one responsible for saving her just the night prior, it hardly seemed right to launch into an interrogation.
“Sit down, Charlotte, and I will explain,” he spoke when she was finished her thought.
Charlotte sat, but before he could explain, her curiosity and concern bubbled over and she couldn't resist just one question. “My boss? And when I walked over here the other night? Please tell me. How?”
“I will not lie to you. I possess the ability to control one's movements, but you, Charlotte, I will never force. I may suggest to your limbs that they move toward me, to encourage you to stay here at my table, but if ever opposed to my suggestions, your body will not comply. I would never force you against your will,” he finished simply and then his eyes met hers and held her gaze.
“What victory is there when you come to me, if it was not you who decided to do so? I could have you strip off every inch of clothing, bare every inch of your beautiful body to me, and have you lay down naked on this table. You would be unable to resist every ounce of pleasure I could offer your body. But where would my victory be when the cataclysmic orgasm courses through your body? It would not be you who submitted yourself to me, but merely my control over your physical body. When you are writhing naked beneath me, Charlotte, I assure you that you will be in full control of your actions,” he finished but maintained his gaze.
“Oh…” Charlotte swallowed hard. He hadn't been this forthright during their brief meetings before. And certainly what he had said before hadn't conjured such erotic images in her mind. She barely knew him; her stranger who was beautiful, but didn't look quite human; who was powerful, but restrained every ounce of his strength he possessed around her; who seemed to want her for something, but she couldn't understand why.
“I have searched far and wide, among my own species, on distant planets and finally, here.”
Charlotte's eyes widened. Had she heard him right? Distant planets? Her stranger had to be insane! And yet, it made more plausible sense than any explanation she could fathom.
“Nowhere else did I feel the affinity for which I search, but, while orbiting your solar system, I began to feel it tug at me, pullin
g me in your direction. But still, even once I arrived, my search continued; watching, listening, for the one that was designed to be my mate,” he paused just briefly to allow her to digest what he was saying.
“You see, this affinity that I speak of, it is how our species finds our mates. Whatever it is that is out there, it has a design for us, and apparently for you, too, because it has brought me here. I don't know that I believe it is a supreme being; but rather what you would call fate or destiny. The grand plan of the universes, that is what has drawn me here.”
Charlotte didn't know what to make of her stranger's preposterous story.
“It is not a preposterous story. I assure you,” he cut into her thoughts gently.
“Then what you're saying is...you're an alien? You're from another planet?” she asked incredulously. This sort of thing only happened in movies. Real aliens didn't show up looking for real waitresses because the fates had conspired. She suddenly needed time to think; to figure out what was going on. Was she going insane? Was the man sitting across from her insane? Was everything she had believed her entire life so incredibly far from the truth? Were there really little green men out there abducting people?
“To the best of my knowledge, no. I have traveled to many planets, and never come across the little green men your news tabloids speak of. Those seem to be the concoction of your species' own imagination,” he finished seriously.
As her stranger spoke, she saw her boss from the corner of her eye, making his way over to their table. She once again braced herself for the verbal onslaught about to ensue.
“Charlotte, you look tired. Why don't you take the rest of the night off to collect your thoughts and rest,” he offered with an easy smile. And though she knew without a doubt that she was taking advantage of her boss, who had not made the offer of his own volition, she couldn't resist. She was tired, confused and her feet felt like she'd been walking around in stilettos for the past week.
“Sure, Michael. If you don't mind, I would really appreciate that.” Charlotte spoke to Michael, but all the while her gaze remained locked with her stranger's, letting him know she knew exactly what was going on. He just smiled.
She excused herself from the table and collected her belongings from the back room. She had expected her stranger to be gone by the time she reemerged, but he was still there, waiting for her.
“Shall I walk you home?” he asked, a hint of concern evident in his eyes.
Though it had to be the most absurd scenario she could imagine, it felt nice to see the concern in his eyes. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had been genuinely concerned about her. A sadness crept across the stranger's face, and she bristled slightly, knowing he had been privy to her silent thoughts.
“Oh no. You will not pity me!” she whispered voraciously.
“I felt no such thing. You fascinate and inspire me, Charlotte. Now, how could I pity that?” he replied, assuaging her indignation instantly.
He offered his hand, and she felt compelled to accept it. And then she raised an eyebrow at him inquisitively.
“No. You were in control of your actions. I was not.”
The honesty in his eyes confirmed his words and Charlotte placed her hand in his tentatively. They walked out into the night and down the few streets to her home. Her stranger didn't speak, and she spent the entire time trying not to think. All the while a new kind of electricity hung in the air between them making Charlotte aware of the sensual way the fabric of her clothes rubbed against her skin as a gentle breeze blew toward them. When they arrived at the house, she found her keys and opened the door.
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked before stepping over the threshold. “Jeez, how cliché is that?”
“That sounds great,” her stranger replied, his voice a little huskier than she remembered.
Charlotte headed straight for the kitchen, flipped on the light, threw a disc in the coffeemaker and readied the mugs before the brew was finished.
“I'm sorry, but I have very little time,” he spoke, breaking the silence.
“Oh, but the coffee will just be a minute,” she replied, a little perplexed given that they'd walked in the door just three minutes prior.
“That's not what I mean. The affinity that I spoke of. It is strong, and I am sure. But I have been away so long that I cannot afford to stay away from home much longer,” he explained.
“But you're an alien. You're a species from a different world. How can you possibly have been destined to choose me? It just isn't possible.” Charlotte couldn't remember ever having spent so much time confused.
“I am not so different from you, Charlotte. Though our homes our worlds apart, our species are connected more than you know,” he said softly. She looked up at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.
“We are the purest form of your species, untouched by evolution and environment. On my planet, the environment is what adapts, not its inhabitants; it warms and cools, rises and falls, grows and rests, all in adaptation to our needs. On earth, it is you—humans—who have adapted, evolving to your environment over the millennia. You have lost your ability to read, to communicate, to see more than what your eyes can show you. You age faster and your bodies are weaker, but you and I are inherently the same.”
“Oh.” It seemed to Charlotte she was spending an awful lot of time speechless, too.
“Then let me show you instead,” her stranger said huskily, leaning toward her slowly, meeting her gaze while wrapping an arm around her waist.
He bent down to press his lips against hers, gently at first, but after a moment, Charlotte's lips began to respond and he plied at them with his tongue, eager to gain entrance into the warmth of her mouth.
Then she was pressed back against the wall, her stranger's eyes meeting hers while her arms moved above her head of their own volition. His eyes remained locked on hers, searching for any signs of resistance in hers, but he found none. His hands came out and fidgeted with the top button of her blouse, then the next and the next, until her blouse spread open revealing her lacy white bra beneath. He reached for the clasp in the front and the bra fell away as her breasts sprung free. He admired the view before him, and then returned his eyes to hers. Charlotte knew he would find no resistance there, just a heated gaze, proof of the fiery heat spreading throughout her body.
His hands came up again, but this time to squeeze her tits, eliciting a moan from Charlotte's lips. As he moved his gaze to her tits, suddenly she felt an exquisite pleasure spreading through her, as if he had begun teasing her nipples with his fingers or his tongue. But his hands had remained kneading her flesh; only his eyes had settled on her nipples. Charlotte gasped.
Her stranger's hands slid down her ribs, to her waist and then around to the back of her skirt. He slid the zipper down and let the skirt fall to the ground. The thong she wore beneath hid the last few inches of her naked body from his view.
He knelt before Charlotte, sliding his fingers down her hips. One hand continued on, moving to her thong and pulling it aside to expose her naked pussy, her throbbing clit. He didn't touch her, but his eyes settled there, staring at her clit. The fiery heat coursing through her body settled in her clit and set her pussy ablaze.
Charlotte stood there with her arms above her head and her stranger on his knees before her; he was stimulating her clit without touching a single inch of her body. The pleasure increased as he stared more intently. It felt so erotic to have this man before her, just staring at her pussy. But she knew he was somehow doing so much more than that. Her body began to writhe against the wall, and she wished she could move her arms, desperate to speed along her stranger's pleasurable torture.
He must have heard her thought, because in the next moment Charlotte's arm was free, and she moved her hand to her clit swiftly. Her fingers pressed hard against the bundle of nerves, rubbing fast circles around her sensitive nub. And in the next moment, the combination of her stranger's odd pleasure tactics and h
er own fingers working herself right there before his eyes, sent her over the edge and she began to cum, moaning loudly as her back arched off the wall.
She stood there, breathing hard. The only thing that kept her body from collapsing in the aftershocks of her orgasm was her arm, still invisibly secured above her head. Her stranger stood and met her gaze once again.
“That could not work with everyone. It is only because an affinity exists between us that I can be so in tune with your body to control it in such an intimate way,” he explained, his voice still husky, but she could also hear the restraint in his voice, like he was gritting his teeth to hold back his own arousal.
A light blush spread across her cheeks as the orgasm subsided and she realized what she'd done. Not only did she stand there naked while an alien being pleasured her body, but she'd been so horny, so on fire, that she'd stimulated her body in front of him, in a race to an orgasm her body so desperately craved.
“Don't be embarrassed. That was never my intention. Look inside, Charlotte. After such a connection, you will feel it, too. You will know that I speak the truth and that we were destined to be together,” he spoke emphatically.
Charlotte was silent for a moment, so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had completely forgotten she was standing naked but for a thong pulled aside, still revealing her recently-pleasured pussy. Her stranger tried to tune her out, giving her a moment alone with her thoughts while he focused on her slim, beautiful body.
“I don't understand what it is I feel. I don't even know your name, and yet I feel this pull toward you. I want to go with you. I'm fighting with every ounce of strength I have to stay right where I am,” Charlotte looked down then and the blush crept across her face again. But her own thoughts drew her attention back. “But I don't want to fight; I want to go with you. How can that be?” she asked.
