My Masked Stranger Pt. 02

Monday, 7:00 am

Swan: Is it another perfect day in Miami?

VB: 78 degrees this morning, full sunshine.

Swan: God I wish I were there. Freezing cold here.

VB: And where are you, exactly, again?

Swan: Can’t. It’d reveal too much. Let’s just say I’m much farther north than the equator.

VB: How much anonymity do we have to keep here? You’re not like, secretly married with a family of five are you?

Swan: God no. I’ll send you proof of the depressing single room I’m sleeping in.

After a moment, a picture of a tiny, cramped but meticulously clean image appears in the chat.

Swan: This is my home for the next six months.

VB: You should be careful. I could enhance this photo to see out the window.

Swan: Okay Detective Benson. Relax.

VB: Is it so wrong to stan the only decent member of the NYPD??

Swan: Are you from New York? I thought I picked it up in your accent.

VB: Anonymity, remember?

Swan: Come on. It’s a city of millions. That hardly narrows it down.

VB: Fine. Yes, Brooklyn born and raised. What about you?

Swan: A combination of Cartagena, San Diego, and mostly South Texas.

VB: That explains the accent. You kind of have a drawl.

Swan: You think I sound Texan??

VB: A little.

Swan: Well yeehaw I guess. I’ve got to go meet the squad. I’ll text you later?

VB: Yeah cool.

**

Monday, 6:00 pm

Swan: Truly the longest day of my life. And yet I think we get two hours less of daylight than Miami.

VB: Another clue.

Swan: I told you I was NORTH. I meant it.

VB: So it’s cold and dark up there.

Swan: Lonely. You forgot lonely.

VB: Poor Swan.

Swan: I keep thinking about you.

Swan: Maybe this is too much to say but I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night.

VB: Me neither.

**

Wednesday, 1:14 pm

VB: Just got an email from an undergrad who says they need to interview a grad student about a career in the sciences. They sent me three essay questions and, oh yeah, it’s due in two days.

Swan: Be gentle. We were all once that dumb.

Swan: Well, you probably weren’t.

Swan: And TBH I wasn’t THAT dumb.

Swan: but I was pretty dumb.

VB: Probably an important lesson about boundaries to be taught here.

Swan: And also don’t-make-demands-of-a-grad-student-about-to-finish-her-thesis, maybe?

VB: Yeah that too.

Swan: Can I read your thesis

VB: That couldn’t possibly be interesting.

Swan: But I’d get to see what you’re working on.

VB: And you’d see my name. Which would, you know.

Swan: I know. Anonymity.

Swan: It’s annoying.

VB: But kind of hot right?

Swan: More than kind of.

**

Friday, 9:23 pm

VB: Spent all day working. Just got home. About to devour a pint of oat milk ice cream and fall asleep on the couch.

Swan: Are you vegan?

VB: In a past life.

Swan: Interesting.

Swan: I feel like I’m assembling data points about you. Very slowly.

VB: We’ve only known each other for a week.

Swan: Shit.

Swan: I didn’t get you anything for our one week anniversary.

VB: I think one week anniversary is the text anniversary, so you can consider this your gift.

Swan: Thank god.

**

Friday, 10:45 pm

Swan: I still have the mask, you know.

VB: You’re not wearing it around work, are you??

Swan: Haha. No. My day job is not a freelance superhero.

Swan: Despite what some of my colleagues seem to think.

Swan: I swear every one of these guys thinks they’re saving the world.

VB: I still have the bat mask. It’s my trophy now.

Swan: What are you doing tonight?

VB: Well the falling asleep on the couch plan didn’t come to fruition so I’ve been doing a jigsaw puzzle and pretending it’s me reconstructing my mind.

Swan: What if we FaceTimed in fifteen minutes?

VB: Seriously?

Swan: kapaklı escort Yeah. I’m alone.

VB: Masks on?

Swan: Of course.

VB: Twenty minutes?

Swan: Sure.

Swan: I can’t wait to see you again.

I run into the bathroom frantically, turning the water on in the shower and grabbing my toothbrush. The fact that he can’t actually smell me doesn’t matter. It’s not just about being the Bat for him, it’s about being the Bat for me.

I manage not to get my hair wet as I rinse and shave, nicking myself with how quickly I’m moving. Fortunately, Miami is hot enough that I’ll dry almost instantly. I slip into the sexiest bra I own and my pink silk bathrobe, willing my hand to stop shaking as I apply vampy maroon lipstick and mascara.

I’m ready in nineteen minutes, if slightly out of breath, and I drink a glass of water so aggressively that I need to reapply my lipstick. I test the camera on my laptop, covering my lamp with a pair of pink linen pajama pants so that the light is soft and red. If I look around my room, I can see the detritus of single grad student living: the pile of laundry in the corner that I’ve sorted into whites and darks, but haven’t washed because it’s too hot to motivate myself to lug things to the basement wash room. The stacks of books and notes. The cheap Ikea furniture I got from the previous tenant.

But in the little screen on my computer, I look like a sex goddess straight out of a seventies late night horror-thon.

My computer rings with Swan’s phone number. I could just close the computer, block his number, never see him again. Disappear.

But of course I’m not going to do that.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hey,” I say.

He looks just as gorgeous as I remember him. Those pillowy, dark lips. Those haunting eyes. Even the grainy image makes my stomach flip.

“Sorry about the quality. Internet’s not amazing here. But it should connected.” He says.

“It’s not bad, just a little dark.” I say.

He grins. “Can’t let you see too much.”

“You already showed me a picture.”

“And I know how depressing that was. I don’t want you to think I’m in some international prison cell.” He pauses. “Is it weird that I kind of miss you?”

“I don’t know. I kind of miss you too.”

“You look really beautiful.” Swan says. “I thought I had to be misremembering. But you’re gorgeous.”

“Only in this dim light.” I say, blushing.

“I doubt it.” He says, leaning in. His hair looks slightly more disheveled than it did on Halloween, his stubble grown in slightly. He’s wearing a white t-shirt that unfortunately covers up the incredible arms I remember well from that night, but I’m staring at his lips anyway. “I’ve been dreaming about your freckles.”

“Oh god.” I blush harder, and my hands instinctively go to my cheeks. “I hate my freckles.”

“Are you kidding?” He says. “They’re incredibly sexy. The entire night I was wondering if you had freckles all over your body. I fall asleep thinking about them.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do!”

I pause. I can feel the moment about to pass. Whether we fulfill the fantasies we’ve been living in for the last week, or whether we devolve into shy chit chat until we awkwardly sign off and never speak again.

I don’t want that.

I want to burn again.

I want him.

I want the mask.

I run my finger against my neck and smile. “You want to see some more of my freckles?”

“You know that I do.” He growls.

I open my robe slightly, not revealing cleavage yet, just more of my neck. He shakes his head.

“Beautiful.”

“Do you want to see more?”

“Of course, baby. I want to see anything you’ll show me.”

I’ve never done this before. Much less with a stranger. But that mask — again. Something about it. I don’t feel like me, like Taylour Dennis, aspiring marine scientist.

I feel like the Bat I’m dressed as, a creature who survives on instinct and blood and heat.

I open my robe more.

“Fuck. karabağlar escort You are so fucking sexy.” He whispers.

“I bet you wish you were here right now.” I say, tracing a finger down the curve of my breast. I reveal more of myself, letting him see my breasts and bra.

“Can you squeeze them for me? Just a little?” He begs.

“Take your shirt off.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Am I turning you on?”

“You wouldn’t believe how much.” Swan says.

“Do you want to touch yourself?” I reply.

“Is that okay?” He growls.

“I want you to.” I say, softly.

“How do you touch yourself?” He says, his voice smooth and low. “Can you do it for me, now?”

“I have a vibrator.” I whisper to him. “Would you like to see it?”

“Show it to me, baby.” He commands. I reach across to my drawer and remove the slender, silicon form from its satin bag. “Why don’t you turn it on? And play with yourself a little?”

“Do you want me to?” I ask.

“I need you to.” He says, his tongue thick against his teeth. I hear the sound of his pants unzipping as he shifts back and forth. “I’m touching myself right now.”

I think about asking to see his cock but I want to focus on his face, his beautiful face. And that mask. It’s alluring, and terrifying, and I can’t stop thinking about him, or it, or what the pair of them do to me.

I press the vibrator against my clit and warmth begins to circle me. I moan into the screen. “I wish you were here.” I coo. “I wish you could be kissing me again. Holding me.”

“I’d pin you to the wall.” He says. “I’d tear your panties off and seeing how wet you got them. I felt you at the bar. How wet you were. I wish I could’ve tasted you. I bet you taste so, so sweet.”

“Would you fuck me against the wall?” I ask, as I shift the vibrator upward.

“Not at first. I’d just kiss you. Every inch of you. Every freckle. I’d undress you and lay you down. Massage your entire body, bringing my tongue to taste every part of you. And then I’d kiss your mouth. I’d make you suck on my tongue. I’d bite on your lip, just hard enough so you couldn’t let go of me. I’d squeeze your breasts with my hands, then your waist, then your hips, then your ass.”

“And then what?” I say, breathless.

“Then I’d play with you. Feel you get wetter to my touch. See how you liked your clit stroked. If you liked how it felt when I slid a finger in you, and then I’d slide another one in. Just slowly, finger fucking you as you whimper on my hand for me. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Swan.” I respond obediently.

“And then I’d go down on you. Kissing every part of you, sucking your clit, tasting each last drop you gave me. I’d drag you across the bed, fucking you with my tongue. Savoring you.”

I grab a pillow with my left hand. “Fuck, Swan.”

“How badly do you want me right now?” He says, a faint sneer on what’s visible of his face.

“Really, really fucking badly.”

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says. “Squeeze those tits for me again. Oh fuck.”

He whimpers as I do, pulling my breasts upward and squeezing them together. “I’d let you fuck this. Right here. Let you slide your cock right between my tits.” I say.

“God you’re going to make me cum already, VB.”

“Tell me how you’d fuck me.”

“I want to fuck your mouth first. Your perfect mouth. Let you use your tongue on me.”

“I have a small mouth.” I tease.

“I know you can take it.” He says, and I shiver. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you VB?”

“Yes.”

“Say it to me. I want to hear you say it, baby.”

“I’m your good girl.” I say, my face burning red again.

“That’s my girl. I’m not going to cum in your mouth. I’m going to fuck your mouth until I can’t stand it anymore, and then I’m going to make you cum. With my fingers. With my mouth. With that little vibrator of yours. And while you’re cumming that’s when I’m going to fuck you.”

I whimper. I can feel myself about to burst on the vibrator. I want to karabük escort pull it off of me, but I’m also too swollen, desperate for release.

“I’m going to cum, Swan.” I whisper.

“Not yet. Wait for me, baby. Wait for me to tell you everything I’m going to do to you.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

“Good girl. That’s my girl. You just wait for me.” He licks his lips. “Because when I cum, I want you on top of me so I can look at those gorgeous tits of yours, and feel your ass on my legs. I want to be looking at you. Look at me, VB. Look at me when you cum. Are you going to cum now?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl. Cum for me. Cum for me, baby, cum for me.”

I close my eyes as the vibration washes through me. My free hand reaches out to grab my pillow as I convulse on my vibrator. “Oh fuck Swan. Fuck.”

He whimpers from the screen, tossing his head back as he groans. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment as we both moan together, shivering with pleasure from opposite sides of the world, our faces still obscured by our masks. I still don’t know his name. He still doesn’t know mine. I squeeze my breasts as we both shudder together. I try not to collapse as my entire body relaxes, writhes, convulses. It’s never felt like this before. My eyes flutter.

We sit there for a moment, both of us breathing hard, unsure of what to say.

“That wasn’t weird right?” I whisper.

“That was fucking amazing.” He says. “You are so incredibly sexy.”

“I’ve never done that before?”

His voice lowers as he asks, tenderly, “You’ve never had an orgasm, VB?”

“No! God, no.” I laugh nervously. “I mean. With someone, online. I’ve had an orgasm before. And an orgasm with someone. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Relax. I don’t normally do this either. And definitely not…” He points toward the mask. “You look incredibly sexy though. I’d really like to show you more, next time. If that’s okay. You don’t have to show anything you don’t want to, I mean, I know we don’t actually know each other that well.”

“No, it’s okay. I think I want to. Besides.” I point at the mask. “Kind of hard to tell who I am. Just another girl in Miami.”

“An incredibly sexy girl.”

I flush.

“You act like no one’s ever told you that.” He says, incredulous.

“You haven’t spent much time in Miami. Everyone here is gorgeous.”

“Of course. I’m not saying they’re not. I’m just saying that — you, VB. You are exactly what I want.” He pauses. “Are you newly single?”

“How could you tell?”

“Just a hunch, I guess.”

“It’s not that new. It’s been eight months. But we were together for four years.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry to hear that.” He smirks. “Well, not that sorry.”

“He’s engaged, actually. I just found out this week. To like, the most incredible woman I’ve ever heard of.”

“You broke up eight months ago and he has a fiancée?” He asks, incredulous.

“Well, he broke up with me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone leaving you.” He says, shaking his head.

“You barely know me, Swan.”

“Well I’ve seen what you look like when you cum, and I would do almost anything to see it again.”

“What about you?”

“Not much to mention. No one serious in a long time. I travel a lot, it’s hard to form a real relationship when you don’t have a permanent address.”

“So this is kind of an ideal scenario?” I say, gesturing at the screen that separates us.

“No, a dream scenario would be that I could teleport you here and tie you to the bed for the week. But until that becomes part of our quantum reality, I’m happy to do this some more.”

“Me too.” I say softly, grateful once again that the lights are dim and this mask covers my face.

We talk quietly for another hour, and I can feel sleep overcoming me. But I’m reluctant to say good night.

“I can hear sleepiness in your voice.” Swan says.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m normally an early riser.”

“It’s late here too.”

“I should go to sleep.”

“You should. Maybe we can talk again this week?” His voice wavers, slightly, as if he’s uncertain of my answer. But there’s no uncertainty in my response.

“Definitely.” I say, smiling. “Good night, Swan.”

“Good night, my bat.”

This is the final part of this little story. I hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading!