The Guy in Apartment 10a Ch. 02

Nearly a dozen young women were scrubbing stains off the floor, buffing the olive patina off brass fixtures and polishing the scarred walnut bar top to a mirror sheen. More were pulling the moth eaten decorations off the walls, dusting the hanging light shades and chasing the spiderwebs out of long forgotten corners.

Some of those arachnids probably had squatters rights given the length of their occupancy.

And every single one of the industrious females was performing the grimy chores in her underwear.

Again, just for accuracy, Georgia corrected herself. Underwear was a stretch because the tiny undergarments actually stretched over the variety of barely clad womanly figures were obscenely objectifying and they were definitely performing in them.

For whom? Georgia had a sneaking suspicion.

The mildly familiar redhead wiping down the booth seats wasn't merely cleaning the faded vinyl. The fiery haired strumpet was doing so in strappy heeled sandals with her long smooth legs crossed at the ankles and her full toned behind thrust up in the air as she bent invitingly at the waist.

Her blemishless pale butt cheeks were unobscured by the dental floss thong riding high over supple wiggling hips and her impressively globular breasts swayed within a racy red demi-bra at each circular sweep of the rag upon the shiny seat-back.

The shameless tart wasn't cleaning like a normal person but more like some sultry late night television advertisement trying to sell the idea of domestic housework to dumb, horny male viewers.

She wasn't the only one either.

A glossy brunette in scraps of snowy lace that clung to her substantial tanned curves was buffing the brass knob at the end of the bar rail in a decidedly suggestive fashion.

She knelt before it, the high heels of her matching white pumps dimpling her cushiony ass, stroking an oily cloth along the length of the gleaming support before swirling it over the spherical end with her painted ruby lips parted inched away and the tip of her moist pink tongue flickering out.

Even the dusky skinned beauty dusting the corners in a lavender chemise and frilly hipster panties did so by arching her slender back and rising up onto her tiny toes. As though to best present an immaculately lean honed physique that befitted a gymnast. Her long midnight hair tickling the top of her taut derriere as she swished alluringly from side to side with the movements of her ridiculous feather duster.

"Can you two stop blocking the doorway? Some of us have work to do, you know."

Georgia almost didn't recognise the porcelain pale figure scowling up at her and Linh, clutching a musty stack of sombreros to her modest chest. It might have been the streaks of dirt on her cheeks or the ebony corset, panty and garter belt combo the inky haired coed was salaciously sporting but eventually...

"Emily?" She gasped, eyeing the under-dressed Bronte sister incredulously. Where were the torn jeans and floral grandma blouses? Where was the Boho beanie and ironically chic flannel? "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Who's Emily? My name's Rebecca and I've got to dispose of all this crap before opening time." Emily, nay, Rebecca replied curtly. "So if you don't mind..."

"Ah, Linh. Georgie. You girls are right on time." Sammy called from a door behind the bar. "Please, let the young ladies get back to work and meet me in my office."

Georgia pushed past the barely dressed hipster, nearly knocking the armload of hats from her grasp, as she stormed across the bar to confront her boss. Linh trailing in her wake, looking a bit stunned.

They ducked under the end of the bar and Georgia all but kicked the door to Sammy's tiny cluttered office open in her outrage.

"Alright, where is he--" She began then stopped dead in her tracks. "Sammy... what happened to you?"

The blonde manager was just sliding her desk drawer closed and fanning at the air as Linh squeezed into the confined space behind Georgia.

"Where is who, dear?" Sammy asked politely as she leaned against the cracked timber desktop and folded her hands patiently in her lap.

Sammy looked... different.

Had she got extensions? Because her usually shoulder length golden hair fell in long voluminous tresses down past the middle of her back. A back bared by a small crochet bralette top that pushed up her full breasts just as her taut midriff and toned thighs were exposed by a high waisted pair of ivory cut-off jean shorts.

This wasn't Sammy. This vivacious figure with a knowing little smirk on her full strawberry lips who lounged on her boss's desk. Sammy wore business-like blouses, midi skirts and practical footwear. Those kitten heeled white cowboy boots belonged to a woman looking to spend a night on her back, not on her feet running a bar.

Georgia shook her head, trying to clear it. The tiny office felt stuffy and her pale skin tingled in the warm, close air.

"Vince!" She demanded, "He's here somewhere, isn't he? Do I need to check that goddamn bathroom for--"

"Calm down, dear." Sammy clucked her tongue with a small shake of her head, giving off an air of maternal disappointment that made Georgia want to scream. "It's only us girls here. Though I think you need to closely examine this infatuation you have with young Vincent. It doesn't sound entirely healthy."

Georgia gaped at the preening blonde and turned to Linh for support. The cute Asian coed didn't catch her eyes, instead she was looking around the tight space as if expecting to find something that wasn't there. Her dainty hands clenched together beneath her pert bosom and her nostrils twitching.

No help from that corner.

"Then how do you explain what's going on out there?" Georgia insisted, pointing back at the door. It was closed and she blinked at that unexpected revelation. She hadn't closed it.

"Simply some long overdue spring cleaning and redecorating." Her boss said in a weary tone used to soothe upset children. "The girls outside are prospective new hires. Think of today as their auditions for a job here at the First Edition. Frankly, we need the extra hands given how busy we've been lately."

"They're not wearing anything, it's indecent!"

"They're cleaning, dear. Nobody wants to get all that dust and grime on their new uniforms." Sammy explained as though it were the most rational statement in the world. "Besides, many of them are wearing significantly more now than at their previous place of employment."

Sammy's eyes fixed on Linh for a moment then with a nearly imperceptible nod of satisfaction she turned back to Georgia with a more concerned look. "Are you feeling any better today, dear?"

"Stop calling me that!" Georgia wanted to tear out her own hair in frustration. "You can't tell me that... that man isn't behind all of this. Just look around and ask yourself if this all seems like normal behavior."

"Georgie..." The blonde bar owner let out a long, suffering sigh and got up to approach her, drawing in close to place a hand on her shoulder. "I will admit that I spoke briefly with Vincent earlier today to offer him a part-time position working the door and checking IDs."

"I knew it!"

"...which he politely declined and excused himself to head off to his day job. I had to work very hard to persuade him to help us out in the evenings. That was the entire interaction, Vince was here for less than fifteen minutes." Sammy said calmly, looking into Georgia's eyes with a kind, if searching expression. "I know you have been unwell and are struggling with all the sudden changes but this business has been riding on a knife's edge for months now. We need to adapt to a new paradigm or close our doors forever."

"Wait... so Vince is going to be working here now?" Linh asked, her voice sounded hopeful, excited. Her slender hips began to gyrate minutely in her tight denim daisy dukes.

"I can't. I just can't..." Georgia whined, shaking her head and feeling a tight clench of anxiety deep in her gut.

"Why don't you head home, dear? One of the other girls will be more than happy to cover your shift." Sammy said kindly, stroking a lacquered fingernail down her cheek affectionately. "Rest up and come back to us when you are feeling well. Everything will be fine, better than fine, you'll see."

"O--Okay..." Georgia's head was spinning and the office felt terribly claustrophobic, the fight seemed to drain right out of her. Was she finally smelling something? She rallied heroically, "But this isn't over."

"Of course not, dear." Her boss crooned, opening the door for her and gently ushering her out into the bustling bar full of lingerie clad beauties feverishly working in a pornographic parody of cleaning. "Get well soon and come back to us, 'kay?"

Georgia turned to fire off one last retort but couldn't find the words. Her head felt stuffed full of cotton candy. Sweet, cloying, sticky.

"Did you say something about new uniforms?" Linh asked eagerly, bouncing in place beside the coffee-stained desk. "We never had uniforms before."

"I did. Come see." Sammy said with a pleased grin as she reached into a large cardboard box marked 'same day delivery' in big blocky letters stamped on the side. "It's nothing special but it's a start..."

Georgia saw her hold up a slinky black tube top with the 'The First Edition' printed in gold lettering across the front. There couldn't have been more than six square inches of elasticated fabric to the entire garment.

"O.M.G! That looks super hot but... do you have any makeup I can borrow? I want to make my eyes really pop before my shift starts."

"Of course, dear." Sammy replied, and Georgia saw her boss reaching into her desk drawer before the office door swung closed on its rusty hinges.

She fled with Linh's squeal of delight echoing in her ears.

________________

Georgia lay awake in her narrow bed and stared furiously up at the cracked plaster ceiling above.

The evening felt unseasonably warm and a quick glance at her phone told Georgia it was just past eight o'clock in the evening. For once, things were blessedly quiet. No banging of furniture or heavy grunts coming from upstairs. No crashing of breakables and girlish moans of ecstasy. She could finally sleep undisturbed.

Eight o'clock.

Georgia sat bolt upright. Eight o'clock meant the First Edition would be in full swing, a term that seemed more apt for the bar than ever before, and Mr Growly Grunts would be busy working the door.

Apartment 10a would be empty and ripe for a little... investigation.

Slipping out of bed, Georgia grabbed a butter knife from the kitchen then climbed out her bedroom window onto the fire escape. The night was overcast and the lack of windows in the building across the narrow alley kept it dark as she snuck barefoot up the steel stairs to the small landing outside Vince's window.

Security in the building was a joke. Other than the single deadlock on each apartment's front door, there was little to stop even the most unmotivated thief from helping themselves to the residents belongings. Georgia figured none had bothered if only because nobody in this dump had anything worth stealing.

So when she slid the dull blade between the frame and the window sill, it was no surprise that the latch sprang open at a touch. Easing it open, Georgia ducked inside and almost reeled when the pungent stink of the unlit room pierced her stuffy olfactory.

Oh fuck.

It reeked of sweat and sex, and underlying that thick haze was a powerful odour of something almost spirituous. Sharply chemical.

Georgia covered her nose with one hand as she tiptoed across the room and fumbled for the light switch. Her foot bumped against something with a glassy clink and when she turned on the light she saw what it was.

A pink perfume bottle with a silver label.

It was empty and it was far from alone.

Dozens more just like it were strewn across the floor among discarded beer cans, fast food wrappers and rumpled clothing. Some of that clothing was unmistakably female. Five different pairs of scanty women's panties, clearly soiled and discolored in the gusset, were hanging from a curtain rod like hunting trophies on display.

Georgia was disgusted. How did any woman not take one look at this filthy trash heap and run away screaming? Her eyes were beginning to water and her skin prickled unpleasantly as she leaned down to inspect one of the glass bottles.

The spray nozzle had been removed, as though a few spritzes weren't enough and the bastard had just been dousing himself in the contents straight out of the top. This was evidence. Of what she couldn't rightly say, the choking stink in the air was making it hard to think clearly but Georgia knew she really wanted that bottle.

Maybe to compare to the one she had hidden under her mattress downstairs? To check the Russian writing on the label and make sure they were the same? That sounded like a good idea and she only stopped herself from mindlessly scooping it up at the last minute.

Georgia shouldn't handle it with her bare hands. That was, like, a safety concern, right? Instead she picked up one of the less filthy looking shirts laying on the floor and wrapped the suspect container up in it.

"Vince, Baby. Are you home?" A whispered voice accompanied a gentle rapping at the front door. Georgia froze in panic. "I saw the light from under your door. Ummm... Not that I was watching for it or anything. Let me in, Stud. I need to feel you again sooo~ badly..."

Georgia didn't recognize the voice but it was soft, breathy and desperately feminine with the edge of an animal whine to it. She stood with her prize clutched to her chest, rooted to the spot with indecision.

"Pleeeease~ Vince. Gimme a little taste you." The voice was growing more insistent, more urgent. The tapping on the door taking on an added ferver. "Fuck me raw, treat my throat like a pussy, whatever you want, Baby. I just need it so bad right now."

Georgia began to creep her way back towards the open window, carefully placing her feet as not to disturb any of the trash covering the floor. She didn't make any noise but the woman outside seemed to sense the movement.

"I--I know I said I didn't do... that but if it's for you..." There was a new plaintive, beseeching note to the begging, "You can take me in my butt. I've never let any man fuck me back there. It's tight and untouched and all yours, Sexy. Please just let me in. Then you can bend me over the couch again and dump a fat load of your yummy spunk deep in my virgin asshole."

Georgia's hair wanted to stand on end as she reached the window.

She needed fresh air, the dank funk of the sex sodden apartment wanted to cling to her, seep through her clothing and into the pores of her goose-fleshed skin. She was practically panting for breath as she ducked through the small opening.

"Danny, my boyfriend... We had a fight and I kicked him out. He was so weak, so inadequate when compared to you, Vince." The hammering on the door was replaced by the scratching of fingernails, like a distressed house pet scrabbling to get inside. "He knew it too. He proposed to me, can you believe that? Tried to lock me down and take me away from you. You should have seen his expression when I laughed and threw the stupid ring back in his stupid face. Let me in, Baby and I'll describe it all to you around my hot mouthful of your huge tasty cock..."

Georgia didn't even close the window behind her as she rushed out into the balmy night. Back down to her apartment where she hid under her bed sheets and fought to breathe.

________________

Her body was on fire.

Caught somewhere between dreams and wakefulness Georgia tossed and turned in her sweaty sheets. Her nipples ached, hard against the cotton of her t-shirt and her pussy thrummed like a plucked guitar string.

It was like someone had plugged her pleasure centers into an amplifier and turned the volume up to eleven. She burned to be touched, to feel someone's hands thrilling across her most sensitive parts, teasing and pleasing her until she crested the peak into a glorious soulful climax.

Georgia was delirious with desire and in her fevered state she could almost see them. A faceless, formless figure sucking puffy pink little nips, licking a searing hot circle around her pierced navel, spreading her drooling pussy wide and...

"Oh gawd~"

Georgia's eyes fluttered half-open as her painted pitch fingertips quested down into her damp lacy boy shorts to rub frantically at her rosy nub and dip between her dewy folds. It wasn't enough. Georgia wasn't a habitual self-gratifier but she had more than a tourist's familiarity in finding the path to her own pleasure.

She stroked and circled, rubbed and swirled. She curled her own slender fingers deep inside her slick channel, grazing that sweetest of spots but kept coming up just short of explosive relief. Georgia wanted to howl in her desperate need as her slim hips bucked up off the bed and her skinny thighs flexed.

She was caught in her own personal edging nightmare and needed somebody... anybody.

Anybody but Vince.

Never him.

"No, please no..." A soft whimper came from outside Georgia's bedroom door.

She groaned and rolled out of bed, landing heavily on her hands and knees. Her inky hair clung to the perspiration on her porcelain skin as Georgia crawled to the door and peeked her head out into the shared living space. Linh was on the beat up old couch and hunched over, her small body naked and trembling as she gasped out her own yearning cries.

"Linh, what--" Georgia began then stopped as her roommate spun in surprise to face her.

"Georgie, oh Goergie!" Linh sobbed, her beautiful almond eyes were caked in mascara that ran with her tears and big fake lashes that had to be over an inch long. "It's awful. I want him so badly and I know it's all wrong but I do!"

She was clutching something to her chest. It was hard to make out in the dark but it called to Georgia and she crawled closer as Linh began to babble. Her senses alight with the primal need to be touched.

"I remember what you told me and I saw it at the bar tonight. All those gorgeous women fawning over Vince like--like he was someone special..." Linh hiccuped then buried her face in her arms and sniffled, huffing at the familiar looking bundle before coming up again with an anguished wail. "But he is special! I don't know how or why but he is. He shouldn't be, I can see that now but there is something deep within me that is screaming for his touch. To taste him, drink in his scent and feel him stretching out my aching pussy."

Georgia was close enough to reach out and place a trembling hand on her friend's bare knee. Both of them moaned at the skin contact and Linh dropped what she was holding as her lithe body arched into the touch.

It bounced and rolled onto the floor; Vince's shirt and the empty glass bottle of scent. Georgia glared at it and growled as a righteous fury blazed in her small breast to rival her incandescent arousal.

"Vince did this to us and I won't let him get away with it, Linh."

"But... But I need him, Georgie."

"No, you don't. We have each other." Georgia hissed, kneeling on the grubby carpet between the Asian coed's knees and smoothing her fitful hands up over the shuddering girl's parted thighs. "I know his game now and I think we have everything we need to beat him at it."

She withdrew from Linh long enough to pick up the dirty shirt and slip it on. It was a depressingly blue plaid and had a wet mark where the last few drops of the bottle's contents had soaked into it.