Haley's Ladder

"Hey, don't hold on to that if you're gonna fall again."

Humiliated, she pushed away, wobbled a bit and started walking. She got considerably farther this time when she felt a hand again, this time on her shoulder. She had enough composure to slow down and cock her head. The man was tall so she assumed it was the same one that helped her to her feet.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted over the music. "That was my drink you slipped on. Let me"—the man had to narrowly avoid a collision with a guy swinging glow sticks like they were dual light sabers—"let me buy you one to prove I'm sorry!"

I could use a drink—superseded—that's a horrible pick up line, in her brain's priorities. So she let him lead her around a combination of wallflowers and people trying to sell various 'party favors'. She hesitated when he started climbing an aluminum railed set of steps.

"The good bar is up here," he shouted, half turning at his hips while he walked up.

She flicked the reins on her bravado and started climbing. The better bar was still one of those cheap setups you see in furnished basements. The room she walked into from the staircase wasn't quieter like she had started privately hoping for halfway up. Incredibly it was somehow more crowded compared to the sea of bodies below. They continued their shuffle forward patiently in the sardine coffin, until they got close enough to get a frantic bartender's attention.

While waiting for their drinks a couple of random people made some form of half intelligible small talk with her escort. She vaguely recalled another man, almost as tall, being introduced as a friend. She only nodded her head and kept moving amongst the writhing bodies surrounding her.

Somehow a cup found a way into her hand and when she followed the arm, she recognized her knight in shining armor had come through. She sipped it without a thought as he squeezed through a couple of shirtless guys his size that were on route to a different destination, to stand towering almost a full head over her.

"It's good," she commented while nodding her head and taking a few more sips.

"Wanna go somewhere we can breathe?"

"Please... yes," she honestly answered.

He led her back to the stairway. She was more puzzled but decidedly comfortable going up again, instead of down to the crowd. When they couldn't go any higher her companion pushed a door labeled emergency exit with enough force, it bounced back and almost smacked him in the face while stepping through.

They were both laughing as they eventually stumbled onto the rooftop, resulting in an awkward and teetering embrace. The night air was so brisk, fine body hairs shot erect instantly.

"Hey. You didn't bruise or strain a knee when you fell downstairs did ya?"

Haley felt her new friend's free hand gently grab her knee, then with little pretense, slide up the back of her thigh to cup her ass.

"Hey," she gasped while giggling. "That's not my knee."

"That's not your knee?"

"Naw," she squealed while struggling to push his hand away with hers; swinging her hips side to side, in evasion. She had little success for the most part.

Enjoying the attention as much as she was resisting, Haley allowed their brief eruptions of laughter and chronic smiling to signal she wanted to play; but by her own flexible rules. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that she was intoxicated, perceiving enough denigrated self control to grant her a false sense of security. The ground might not have felt quite level at all times, but she surmised she was still walking and balancing well enough. It wasn't like she was a lightweight after all. At that moment she regretted not knowing what was in the cup she was still holding.

"Say-" was all she got out before she was cut off.

"Wow. You weren't kidding."

She wheeled around to the sound of a new voice while still grappling with one hand. "Who the fuck are you?" she slurred.

There were three more guys standing by the door the couple had recently barreled through. While she took note of general appearances and grinning faces, she continued the mock struggle with her partner. Her inhibitions slipped further and she leaned into the man behind her while pinning both their free hands between their firmly pressed torsos.

"You called it. She definitely looks fun," commented the redhead standing closest to them. Excited by the sly compliment she moved the arm she was holding, around her, and just under her ample and heaving chest.

She tried to take another sip and coughed when she felt the masculine arm squeeze, shift and then grope her breasts.

"Hey," she yelped with a grinning mouth that she had trouble closing for some inexplicable reason. But she didn't try to physically fend off the attention. "Can I—Can I finish my drink?"

Without waiting for a response she began gulping the sweet liquid slowly. This apparently encouraged her audience into beginning a 'drink' chant, so she eventually downed the whole cup. The resounding applause and cheers from the small quartet of males prompted her to bow low, which almost toppled her.

She was gently raised back up by strong hands from behind and recognized another guy had moved in front of her, trying to make a Haley sandwich. Similar to the ones she was enjoying earlier while dancing.

"Ok, ok. Let me breathe," she gasped while still balancing her cup in the air even though it was empty.

"C'mon," the man behind her whispered in her ear, trying to be seductive. "Don't be a frigid bitch," he continued quietly, hands wandering freely.

"Ok," she said more forcefully, some of her addled wits returning. "That's enough." She squirmed and freed herself at last, face flushed and angry now.

"I said that's enough!" she yelled defiantly, while panting and backing away.

"Aww, c'mon," one of the strange men protested while moving toward her. The others echoed similar short phrases in support.

She took two long steps back from them again and planted her feet. "I'll scream," she said acidly. She supposed she meant it. They came to the same conclusion as they grumbled and muttered sullen catch-phrases.

A moment later they were all shuffling to the door, Haley stumbling behind them and keeping a car length's distance. Just as she was about to follow them through the open doorway the man that led her to the rooftop slammed the door shut.

She yelled and banged on the door, much to their satisfaction—judging by the laughter coming from the other side. Furious she didn't have a name to call out, she hurled generic insults at the raucous voices on the other side. She kicked her feet at the door and threw her empty cup in a pathetic attempt at rage, but their fading barbed insults and clanging feet sounded like they were moving farther away.

Great, she thought while she stood there, attempting to calm down and collect her thoughts. Just great.

A few deafened minutes went by and she kept hoping the door would magically open. The cold air and fuming anger were sobering, and the hope quickly disintegrated.

Still furious and realizing her phone—that she had safely left with Gary—was useless in her current predicament, she paced around the largely barren roof. A few raindrops hitting her bare skin indicated things were going to get worse. She then noticed a curved ladder farther along the flat landscape, spilling over the edge. Curious she wandered in its direction.

Peering over the unguarded edge, she had a brief uncontrollable bout of vertigo. The height was probably forty feet. She never recalled having vertigo before and started to conclude her last drink might have been more than simply strong. The ladder ended maybe ten feet down on a small horizontal platform. After steadying herself and strengthening her drunk—possibly drug tainted resolve—she forced herself awkwardly onto the metal ladder.

Carefully, she had just gotten her feet secure three rungs down when she heard a soft groan. For a reason she couldn't comprehend, she looked up at the precise moment the ladder shook with a loud metallic snap. Nervous and frantic she remained motionless, arms wrapped around a rung.

After several heartbeats of quiet nothing, she began feeling and hearing a more regular pattern of raindrops. More scared of staying put, she quickly scurried down. She landed softly on the platform, standing next to a medium sized window.

Pausing only briefly to see there was no way to continue her descent, she tugged at the lower half of the simple two-pane window. Locked. She beat on flimsy glass twice with the palm of her hand, wondering how breakable it was. Before she had a chance to plan her next move she recognized movement inside.

The room wasn't well lit but there was definitely a human shape standing in a doorway, several feet on the other side of the window. The brighter light behind the shape did nothing to reveal the side facing her. She thought to call out, but an absurd notion that maybe it was a dummy or mannequin stopped her.

She was relieved when the shadowy figure moved in her direction.

Steve?

She flailed her arms in the light drizzle, shouting coarsely and weakly, relieved when the window finally raised after a dull click.

She earnestly squeezed through the lower half, feeling stiff hands and limbs assisting her.

"Jesus Haley, what were you-"

"Don't ask," was all she could muster with intent to cut him off. But he babbled while they straightened each other out. She eventually found herself sitting on the corner of a cheap twin bed moments later; breathing deep, but measured. Her skin shivered and convulsed on its own but it didn't take long to relax again.

"Is it raining out there?" he asked with a forced laugh.

"Yep," she replied with a feigned smile while fixing her hair. She felt ridiculous and embarrassed but to his credit, Steve had stopped asking questions and said little once she was settled on the bed.

She maintained her labored breath evenly and watched him leave her line of sight from the corner of her eye for just a second. Her eyes automatically locked on the cup in his hands when he returned.

"Oh. Did you want me to... bet you could use a drink, huh?" he asked, slightly confused, but sincerely.

"No!" She blurted quickly—too quickly. Before he could react she seized the initiative again by grabbing the cup out of his hand.

"What's in it?" she asked reflexively while inwardly crediting herself for a change. Late was better than never.

"Rum and Coke," he offered. "Mostly Coke," he added sheepishly.

She gulped it down quicker than she thought possible.

"Damn." Was his only response.

He had a whimsical smile on his face so she replied with, "You should see me at a keg party." Luckily his smile was infectious and it allowed her mind to relax a bit more, along with her partially numb body.

The seconds on an invisible clock ticked away in relative silence, barring the thumping music coming from below. Eventually she took his suggestion to move to a more sociable environment.

"This place really is sick," he insisted as he led her down a sparsely populated hallway. He brought her to a half filled room, spartan but furnished with serviceable futons and love chairs.

"Have a seat. I'll get us drinks. Rum and Coke again?"

She nodded and added with what she believed was a flirtatious smile, "Mostly Coke."

He laughed eagerly and disappeared. She maneuvered her way around a few people talking and standing to an empty futon next to a low coffee table. The plain looking table—surprisingly, was made of solid wood and felt fairly sturdy when she tested it.

You'll test tables but not rooftop ladders, she chided herself. Several minutes passed while Haley waited for Steve to return, soaking in her new surroundings to pass time.

The room was emptier than when she entered but there was still a couple kissing in an uncomfortable looking embrace, stuffed in a love chair on the other side of the room. She didn't linger on them. A few people stood in a corner talking, and there was a multitude of voices and people streaking past the doorless entrance at irregular—but frequent—intervals.

Steve returned, two cups in hand. After relinquishing one he began polite conversation, getting comfortable next to her, tactfully avoiding the topic of how she came to be hovering outside a window at least twenty feet off the ground. It was a good idea but she had a better one.

Setting her untouched drink on the table she brought both knees up, over Steve's lap and leaned in, to kiss him with an open mouth. Thinking about the other couple fooling around across the room made her feel bolder. Thinking about anything except the rooftop excursion made her feel better.

She sensed he felt uneasy at first but they both relaxed into their make-out session. Gradually some light petting was exchanged as their tongues found each other. Breathing and anticipation quickened and she felt right again, regardless of the head-swirling effect from the alcohol.

He bent low to suck on her exposed flesh, high on her left breast while one of his hands massaged her inner thigh. She took in the scent from his hair, noticing the sweet smell of cigarette smoke, amongst other kinds. Her own hand moved his, directly to her vaginal area, so his massaging could be more effective. He continued his manual labor without protest, while she tilted her head back, enjoying the sensations kindling her arousal.

When her head snapped forward she noticed her black kitty with the white ears from earlier was sitting opposite them, in the previously vacant chair across the table. Already sporting a look of shock on her face from seeing the woman appear out of nowhere, she added a gasp when she felt teeth nibbling around the edge of her bra. But after her initial hesitation, eyes locked on the other woman, she began to moan—intentionally encouraging her male partner.

She cursed herself for not wearing something he could easily slide his hand under, but enjoyed the rubbing pressure on her cloth-shielded pussy nonetheless. The voyeur sat still, legs crossed, both hands on one knee. She silently and clearly mouthed, I like to watch.

Perhaps it was an explanation. But with a newfound excitement Haley recognized it as an opportunity. Pushing her partner back into the couch to a more standard sitting position, she climbed her legs up so both knees were planted deeply in her own cushion. She brushed her lips against his ear, fumbling with the belt buckle threaded around his fine-threaded slacks, pausing a second to take a gentle nibble on an earlobe with her teeth.

"She likes to watch," she whispered.

"Wha-what?!" he exclaimed in confusion as she worked to get his stiffening cock free.

"Just enjoy it," she breathed, already moving on before he could stop her. Her hand plunged into the boxers he was wearing underneath, and almost ripped his hardening member through the soft cotton.

"Oh," he let out with a gasp. "Ok."

His cock was pulled free and she hoped his response meant he realized they had an attentive audience of one. One, who's passive-aggressive body language, was starting to make her unbearably wet.

With abandon she plunged onto his exposed cock, mouth open, engulfing almost all of it on the first try.

"Oh—that's—ugh!" he shouted incoherently.

She held him in her mouth for just a moment, making sure he wasn't going to prematurely blow his load. He was smaller than most of the guys she'd experienced. Still, it tasted like all the others, and the warm familiar sensation of her tongue sliding on hard meat got her more revved up. Not nearly as much as the smile she glimpsed out of the corner of her eye though. The smile wasn't his.

Satisfied he wasn't going to explode she started sliding up and down his shaft. Slowly at first, but upping her tempo the more she felt reassured he could control himself. She could feel his torso vibrating in contortion as she bobbed, causing her to moan with encouragement.

After just a couple minutes of sucking him to a more suitable size, she lamented that he wasn't going to get any bigger. But she was so turned on from being watched she decided she didn't care enough about that. So she continued to suck him eagerly and happily.

Another minute later he warned her that he was going to cum if she kept it up. Wickedly she released him and brought her face next to his. The smell and taste of him still lingered on her heated, sticky lips.

"Does that mean you want me to stop?" she teased, doing her best to look innocent when she batted her eyelashes.

"It means I'd like something else even more right now." The wolfish grin he beamed made him look more masculine. It was the first time she considered his face.

I really am a slut, she thought—and that turned her on even more. At least I know his name.

Taking the hint, she mechanically got up from the couch and started undoing her own pants. She didn't feel sexy trying to get out of her tight jeans but she was hungry. She had just gotten them down, leaving the material clinging to one of her ankles when she heard the couch behind her slide. But her focus was on her audience; and with her thong still crooked she took the time to down her drink, eyes locked. She watched the paradigm of powerful femininity staring back at her. She didn't blink the entire time it took to down the liquid courage and casually drop the cup on the floor.

Readjusting her thong back to its original position she turned to see Steve had already freed his lower half. He was pushing the couch back with a leveraged bare leg.

She examined his five inches better and decided it was more than enough with how the stiffness curved up slightly. The large mushroom head looked promising and she wondered how it didn't bother the back of her throat while she went down on him—the way most guys did.

Before she could figure out what to do next he commanded her to bend over. Unsure at first, she allowed him to position her in front of the only furniture in the room that wasn't meant for sitting.

"Hands on the table."

She complied and only then realized, with her ass high in the air, how close her proximity to the watcher was. She nervously anticipated what was unfolding. Her G-string was slid aside so her sex was completely open for invasion.

She was wet already but felt additional moisture rubbed into her tight college-tested, fuck-hole. She wasn't sure he was using his fingers or his cock to prepare her, and that excited her even more—not knowing.

He gently kicked at the inside of her right leg, prompting her to spread herself vulgarly.

She looked down, over her massive chest and between her thighs as best she could, so she might see what was happening. The air currents in the room made her skin tingle and contract, as her labia was massaged. Cold flesh clamping down on her hands startled her.

When her head snapped back up she was looking directly into the eyes of her admonisher. She didn't think she could get any more aroused, which made the timing of the fat cock-head pushing against her soft entrance perfect.

After a small pinch of pleasurable pain from being pierced, she was fully penetrated. It felt amazing, heightened by the stern gaze that met hers. And those eyes...

The eyes almost made her forget her surroundings while the cock shoved itself straight up her vaginal canal, as deep as it could go. The other people in the room were forgotten. The events that led her to this bizarre situation, also forgotten.

She thought she kept up with all the latest artistic trends but this woman had eyes that made her envious. Some type of contact lenses, she guessed, changed the color of her irises. Her eyes were shining sharp, vivid iridescent gold. There was some black and red checkered in as well, creating a wild and alluring effect.