The Block Party

Author's note: For David (as promised), and dedicated to the real-life Steve, thoughts of whom inspired this story.

*

It was the second Friday in May, a gorgeous and warm spring evening, when a block party was in full swing on Grand Boulevard, a popular shopping district in East Fairview. Live music was playing, store owners were displaying their wares on the sidewalk, and people milled leisurely on the street, which had been closed to traffic, or enjoyed drinks or a meal al fresco at the numerous bars and restaurants lining the boulevard.

With a sigh and a red plastic cup full of beer, Steve settled down on his front stoop to better listen to the live band playing around the corner from his building. A handsome man of average height, with medium-brown hair and closely-trimmed mustache and beard, he'd worked as an emergency room physician at a nearby hospital for over a year now. His hazel eyes wandered the boulevard, watching the block party attendees as they passed him.

He knew Anne planned to bring a few friends with her to the block party (he'd seen her post about it on Facebook as she had helped organize it), and he hoped to see her.

Steve and Anne had formerly been neighbors; she and a friend had owned a clothing boutique on the first floor of his building, while he lived in the apartment directly above. Despite the economy, her shop had done extremely well, so she'd relocated to a larger space a block away. Because of that, and his crazy schedule in the ER, he didn't get to see her as much as he used to.

As much as he liked to.

A casual acquaintance blossomed into friendship which at first had consisted of humorous text messages back and forth between them, an occasional drink together at the bar two doors down from them or on their shared front stoop, and then dinner once at the bistro across the street. Over time, he started finding himself extremely attracted to the pretty, petite brunette with large whiskey-colored eyes; unfortunately for him she was married.

Then on Mardi Gras, Steve had invited Anne upstairs after work to share a drink with him to celebrate the holiday. One drink turned into three, and everyday conversation turned into one in which Anne revealed that she was very unhappy in her marriage -- that she and her husband were more like roommates who shared a bed and occasionally had sex -- and that she was thinking of leaving him. For his part, Steve admitted that he was having a hard time meeting women because of his schedule, and after a fourth drink he said, "And the ones I do meet don't really meet up to my standards."

"Still as modest as ever, I see," Anne laughed at the running joke between them, nodding as he lifted the bottle of whiskey to offer her a refill.

He poured her some more whiskey, then before he could stop himself he impetuously confessed, "No, that's not really it, Anne. I always compare them to you, and they never measure up."

Her eyes widened and her pink lips parted slightly as she stared at him, almost in shock at his frank declaration. Shit, he thought, now I've done it. They sat there in silence for a minute or two, then Anne reached for his glass; taking it from him, she placed it together with hers on the coffee table.

Then she leaned close to him and kissed him, hesitantly at first, then deeper as moments passed, their lips and tongues moving hungrily against each other. She crawled onto his lap and straddled his hips, her fingers moving to stroke the back of his head.

He moved his lips away from hers to kiss and lick her neck, and she threw her head back in delight over what he was doing to her, pleased at the feel of his cock stirring against her crotch. "I want you, Anne," she heard him murmur. "I've wanted you for the longest time."

And before she could stop herself, Anne replied softly, "Then take me. I'm yours." And with that, she got to her feet and held her hand out to him; clasping it in his, Steve led her down the hallway to his bedroom, where they hastily undressed and commenced getting it on, starting in a 69 and ending over an hour later with Steve fucking Anne roughly from behind.

After this first sexual encounter, their text messages became more lustful in nature, with Anne sending Steve photos of her tight, toned self dressed in a skimpy black bikini, or in black lace boyshorts, then moved onto sexting. Finally, to his delight, a few Fridays ago they had participated in a session of extremely hot phone sex during which she told him (in very explicit detail) about sucking his cock, then getting on top of him to fuck him, wasn't it wonderful how wet she was without his having to do anything to her, then finally rising to her hands and knees so he could do her doggy-style, her favorite way to fuck, letting him pound her as hard as he wanted, because that's what she wanted; at this he came so hard he shouted into his phone, making her wince and drop hers.

But before he could continue this erotic reverie about her, Steve glanced to his right and saw Anne crossing the street towards him, chatting animatedly with two women. He watched as she crossed the street, noticing her smile when she saw him sitting there. "Hey, Steve," she said in greeting as she approached him. 'How're things?"

"I can't complain, Anne. How about you?"

"Things are going great. Keeping busy?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yep." She quickly introduced her friends Meredith and Jamie, then asked Steve, "Will you be around later?"

He replied, "I'm not sure. I might run out and see what's doing in the other blocks."

"Well, maybe we'll see each other later on then. Have fun." And with that, the three women walked away.

Steve watched them leave, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. He'd hoped for more than that from her. Then, impulsively he pulled his iPhone from his pocket and drafted a text message. He waited till Anne disappeared from view to send it to her.

Meanwhile, as Anne and her friends strolled aimlessly down the block, her BlackBerry chimed, indicating that she had an incoming message. She took it from her purse and grinned when she saw Steve's name and photograph on the display screen; his message read, "Is that all you got for me? I thought we were friends!"

Anne thought for a moment, then said to Meredith and Jamie, "Hey, girls, I really should have chatted more with Steve, seeing as we were neighbors for a little while. Mind if I go back and hang out with him for a couple minutes? I'll catch up with you in a bit."

Jamie replied, "Sure," with a shrug, while Meredith said, "No problem. See you later." The three women parted ways, and a smile slowly spread across Anne's face as she headed back to Steve. "What's up?" she asked as she approached him for a second time.

"I think you know what's up," he replied slyly. At this, she raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like it's up a lot," she joked.

"Maybe," he told her, as he crooked his index finger at her.

"Think we could have a little more privacy?" she asked, so with a nod he rose to his feet, and opening the door to his apartment indicated that she should precede him inside.

Once the door was shut and locked behind them, and the shade drawn to ensure they could not be observed by passersby outside, Steve seized Anne by her hips, pushed her against the wall of the stairwell and kissed her, causing her to drop her purse. "Oh, baby, what got into you?" she wanted to know when he wrenched his lips from hers.

"Thinking about you being a very bad girl is what got into me," he fairly growled in response. "Thinking about how you love to tease me is what got into me." He stared hard at her for a moment, then before she could react he quickly turned her to face the wall. "Take off your panties," he commanded.

"Here?" she asked, a puzzled expression crossing her face as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"There's nothing to see back here -- face the wall and take off your panties." She did as he told her. "Drop them on the floor," he added, when she moved to hand them to him over her shoulder.

"But what are --?"

"You'll speak when you're spoken to, you fucking cocktease," he replied angrily. "Now put your palms flat against the wall, step back a little bit towards me, and spread your legs."

"I don't --" A sharp stinging slap on her ass silenced her. "Be quiet," he ordered, and after a moment or two he said, "Since you've been a very bad girl lately, I'm going to have to search you and make sure you don't have any weapons or other contraband on you before we go upstairs together."

Where the fuck did this come from? Anne wondered, then after second thought decided, the hell with it. Just enjoy it, whatever he's going to do. He isn't going to hurt you. She slowly raised her hands over her head and placed her palms against the wall.

Steve's hands moved to her left wrist, then patted slowly down her bare arm; this gesture he repeated on her right. "Nothing there," he murmured against her hair. "But now I'll have to move on." He lowered his hands to the hem of her tan floral-print sundress, and she gasped when she felt his fingers gently graze her thighs. She squeezed her eyes shut as his hands rose to massage her breasts, first through her bra, which he then unfastened to expose her sweet little tits to his exploratory fingers, making her moan with pleasure.

He played with them for a bit longer, then his hands slid down over her flat abdomen, stopping at her hips. "Still nothing," he told her. "But I'm sure I'll find something soon enough," and she made another small sound as she felt his fingers stroke her pubic mound.

Steve's right hand dropped even lower, and his index and middle fingers started rubbing her clit, gently at first then more insistently as minutes passed. He wrapped his left arm around her waist to hold her up, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Some nice little weapon you got here," he told her as he continued playing with her, and she moaned again, loving the feeling of his fingers on her clit. They dipped even lower, and he grinned when he realized how wet she was. 'You're dripping," he added with a laugh. "Is this turning you on, you little whore?" She quickly nodded, feeling it was all she could do as she was so far gone. "Tell me you're my filthy little whore," he demanded.

Anne took a deep, shaky breath then whispered, "I'm your filthy little whore."

"Tell me you want me to fuck you like the dirty bitch you are, you cocktease," he continued.

"I want you to fuck me like the dirty bitch I am," she told him, and she had to admit she was getting extremely turned on by the way he was talking to her, so she decided to ramp things up a bit. "I want to suck you off before you fuck me, baby," she added in the sexiest tone she could muster. "Let me get down on my knees in front of you and worship your cock with my mouth. I want to make it up to you for being such a cocktease." And with that, he unwound his arm from her waist and turned her to face him once more. "You better make it good," he informed her roughly, before shoving her to her knees. He undid his shorts, and she took hold of the waistband and together with his boxer shorts, slid them down his legs to his ankles before seizing his cock. "Suck it," he ordered.

She took it into her mouth and started lapping at the head, then plunged it deeper into her mouth; this time it was his turn to moan his pleasure as her greedy lips and tongue consumed his shaft. "I like fucking you in the face, baby," he murmured, as his hands moved to either side of her head to stroke her hair. "I like the feel of my cock in your mouth."

I love it when you fuck me in the face, she wanted to tell him but of course she couldn't as her mouth was otherwise occupied. I love having your cock in my mouth. She continued expertly blowing him until he jerked away from her. Pulling her to her feet, Steve stepped out of his discarded shorts and underwear and moved toward the stairs. "No," he told her when she started heading up the steps. "We're staying here. Bend over and put your hands on the steps. And spread your feet apart." Again she did as she was told. He slid her dress up to expose her fantastic little ass, and she squealed when she felt him force his erect cock into her still incredibly wet pussy. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," he told her, and with that he grabbed her legs just below her knees, lifted her feet off the floor and held her legs straight out behind him. She braced herself even harder on her hands as he started fucking her, at first moving slowly to gauge the angle, then once he figured it out he increased the speed in which he forced himself inside her. "You like this?" he demanded.

"Yes," she groaned in reply.

"Tell me how much."

"I love it, baby, I love it, it feels so good ..."

"I knew you'd love it, all filthy little whores like you love it."

"I do love it, I'm a filthy little whore and I love the way you fuck me, baby ... do it harder, fuck me harder, make me come, oh please, Steve, make me come," she wailed softly; this plea aroused Steve so much that he came not too long after hearing it, bellowing "OH SHIT!" as he did so, his load fairly exploding inside her. Anne's equally strong orgasm answered his, and she wailed again, longer and louder this time.

They remained there, Anne's hands still gripping the step, Steve standing upright between her legs, until she said weakly, "My arms are starting to hurt, baby ... will you let me up?" This he did, and when she stood to face him he hugged her. "That was fucking awesome," he breathed, before kissing her hair.

"You think anyone heard us?" she wanted to know.

"Who gives a shit? I don't," he laughed, then leaning down he kissed her gently on the mouth.

When their lips parted, Anne said, "I really should get going ... Jamie and Mare are probably wondering where the hell I am. Mind if I clean up in your bathroom?"

"Go right ahead. But before you do ..." Steve snaked his arm around Anne's neck, his hand cupping the back of her head, and he pulled her face to his for one of the hot, opened-mouth kisses of his she loved so much. "Come on, baby," she murmured against his mouth, "I gotta go."

"All right," he replied, so she retrieved her discarded panties and purse and carefully headed up the steps to his apartment, her legs still shaky at the furious fucking she'd just received from him.

After thoroughly cleaning herself up, Anne rejoined Steve at the bottom of the steps. One final passionate kiss later, Anne reluctantly left to find her friends on the boulevard, while Steve hastily showered, poured himself another beer, and returned to his seat on the stoop to enjoy the block party festivities, hoping for another glimpse of Anne.