Too Fucking Hot

Rain fell in heavy, wet drops that rebounded off the pavement and splashed back down. Another blistering Chicago summer day had given way to a sleepless night, air so thick and hazy it was hard to breathe. A white flash lit the sky, followed seconds later by a rumbling boom in the distance.

Jenna sat on the wood steps that ran from her second-story landing up to the third-story landing and stared out at the storm, tired, too numb to think. God, she was sweaty everywhere. She wore her lightest cotton tank shirt; no bra (couldn't stand the feel of fabric clinging to the slick underside of her breasts); and a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts.

David's boxer shorts. The bastard.

But nothing seemed to help. It was too fucking hot and David-the-fucking-bastard-of-an-ex-boyfriend had taken the air conditioner with him when he'd moved out.

She was miserable. Lonely, sweltering, and miserable.

With a sigh, she pressed her bottle of beer against her cheek, enjoying the fleeting relief offered by the frosty, wet glass on her flushed skin. The bottle dripped with chilled condensation. She rubbed it down one side of her neck, then around to the other, pressing it against her pulse points and letting out a soft, fatigued gasp of pleasure. Warm rivulets of sweat trickled down over the swell of her breasts. Letting her eyes slip shut, she slipped the bottle along her cleavage, awash in the blessed cool that faded all too quickly in the oppressive heat. One by one, she teased her nipples through her thin shirt with the slick, icy base of the bottle. Her little buds tightened beneath the damp cotton, which clung to her like soap film and was almost as transparent. Tracing the hard, prominent outline of her taut peaks with the ice-cold beer, Jenna shivered.

Jesus, she was pathetic. It had been too long -- way too long. Even before David moved out, they'd stopped having sex. Oh, she masturbated all right. A lot, actually. And she played with her tits, like now. But there was just no substitute for the feel of a man's hands running all over her, feeling her up, teasing her, working himself in her deep and slow.

And it was too fucking hot! The entire city was one, big, goddamned oven.

She whimpered and leaned back, resting her elbows on the steps, loosely clutching the bottle in one hand.

Down below, a metal click and the rattling of the chain-link fence signaled that one of her neighbors had just returned through the gate to the back alley. At the hollow thud of steps on the stairwell, Jenna began to shift herself aside to allow her neighbor to pass.

"Hey, Patrick," Jenna greeted him when she saw who it was.

"Hey." He flashed her one of his boyish grins and paused on the steps. "Too hot to sleep?" he asked.

With a wan smile, Jenna muttered, "The bastard took the A/C with him."

Patrick grimaced in sympathy. "You okay tonight?"

Oh, God. Yeah, so he'd seen her falling down drunk a couple of weeks ago when she was going through the worst of her I-can't-believe-David-left-me depression, and she'd been embarrassed as all hell for the next few days. But Patrick had been a good guy about it; not once had he looked at her like she was a crazy lady or a pity case.

In fact, more often than not, he looked at her like he was looking at her now, his eyes flicking appreciatively over her body but never lingering long enough to be rude. Just...interested.

Jenna caught him glancing at her chest. Even though she felt like she must look like crap, all sweaty and gross, she also knew that her humid cotton top was so saturated that it was more a shadow than a real covering. The wet fabric clung to her skin like glaze. Discreetly, Jenna took a quick peek and wasn't surprised to see the dark outline of her areolas around pert nips that poked up in blatant invitation.

She really shouldn't. Patrick was a nice neighbor, right down to holding the dumpster lid open for her when they both happened to be taking out their trash at the same time. And as the saying went, "Don't shit where you eat".

But he also worked out and right now he looked too good to resist. He was tall and chiseled, his sculpted muscles lithe and powerful rather than grotesquely puffed up like some of the more obsessive body builders. Patrick's dark hair tended to be on the unkempt side, with stray locks flopping down over his brow. Jenna often had the urge to brush it away from his face so it wouldn't hide his beautiful, green eyes.

She really, really shouldn't. Because, building romance? Disaster in the making. Think of those awkward encounters at the mail boxes if it doesn't work out, she rebuked herself inwardly.

The thing was, she didn't really want a romance, wasn't ready for any commitments or attachments yet. Jenna just wanted sex -- plain, simple, down-and-dirty, raw, ride-me-hard sex.

"Okay as I can be," Jenna answered with a sigh. Gesturing with her beer bottle, she added, "Not drinking to get stupid, sideways drunk this time; just to cool off."

"I hear that," Patrick chuckled and gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder as he resumed his journey up the stairs.

From the third-floor landing, Jenna heard the jingle of Patrick's keys as he let himself in his apartment. She let out a long, slow breath. Alone again.

The rain kept coming down in torrents.

Jenna took a swig of beer, then went back to running the cold bottle over her skin. She rolled it along her arm, pressing it against the soft crook of her elbow for a few moments. Then she held it to her temple. A little buzzed, she decided what the hell, leaned back, let her knees sag open, and brought the bottle between her thighs. It was deliciously cool against the soft, tender skin just below her boxer shorts. Slow, easy strokes and her taut nubs were aching. Shedding her last inhibition, Jenna dragged the bottle along the entire length of her pussy. As she ground it against her clit in gentle circles, the fabric at her crotch grew saturated from both sides.

Upstairs, Patrick's screen door slammed, snapping Jenna out of her private world. She hastily set the beer bottle down on a step, and none too soon, because he appeared with a gin and tonic in his hand and came to sit on the step just above hers.

He'd changed from his street clothes into his own "heat-survival" outfit: a pair of baggy, green swim trunks. Jenna let her eyes sweep over his broad chest and briefly imagined teasing her fingers through the light fuzz of hair on his pecs. Then, smiling at him, she raised her beer bottle and said, "Cheers."

Patrick grinned back and clinked his glass to her bottle. "Cheers."

They sat and sipped their drinks for a few minutes, exchanging mundane chit-chat about the day and the heat. Jenna finished her beer and was about to get up and get another when she noticed the intensity of Patrick's gaze on her. He was so caught up in staring, she realized, that he didn't notice her looking back. Glancing down, Jenna discovered that as they'd been talking, she'd leaned forward slightly to rest her elbows on her knees. Her tank top, damp though it was, had peeled away from her skin and hung just loose enough that, from his seat on the step above her, Patrick could see her naked breasts.

That did it. Jenna decided she should see just how interested he was.

She looked at her empty beer bottle and mused, "You know, I think the main appeal of beer in this weather is that you can cool yourself off by pressing the bottle against your skin."

Laughing, Patrick rattled the ice in his near-empty glass and said, "Same with this." As an afterthought, he held it against his throat.

"That looks like heaven. I think I'm going to go get myself some ice," Jenna announced.

"Here, have some of mine," Patrick offered. He reached into his glass, pulled out a dripping ice cube and extended it to her.

Rather than taking it, Jenna just smiled, closed her eyes and tilted her chin slightly in invitation.

After a few, hesitant seconds, she felt the brush of fingertips and wet ice along her jaw line and then down the smooth column of her neck.

"Oooh, that feels good," she moaned, her eyes still shut.

The icy, wet trail continued around to the nape of her neck and Jenna held her long, brown hair away from her shoulders in a clear invitation to Patrick to continue teasing her with the ice cube. He traced light circles on her shoulder, then ran the welcome chill along her collar bone, pausing at the center long enough to send thin, melting streams down her chest. As the trickle of water slid over the curve of her breast, Jenna felt him move the ice cube just enough to adjust the flow so it ran directly over her nipple.

She shivered and let out a breathy moan. The ice cube was removed.

A moment later, Jenna felt it rubbing lightly over her straining nipple through her cotton tank top. Ecstatic, she arched into that teasing, delicate touch. Moisture began to pool between her nether lips as she felt Patrick circle the ice cube in broad strokes over her areola and nudge her hardened, fleshy bud.

Opening her eyes, Jenna looked up at Patrick to see him staring raptly back at her, but also somewhat uncertainly, like he wasn't sure how far he could go. Her gaze locked with his, she laid back against the stairs and slowly raised the hem of her tank top, baring her breasts.

Patrick just breathed. Slowly, he shifted to position himself over her, took another ice cube out of his glass, and slipped it in his mouth. Then, he lowered his head to her breast and closed his lips around one tender peak. Jenna let out a gasping yelp that immediately became a satisfied groan as he bathed her pebbled flesh in a frigid wash, lightly flicking with his tongue. Patrick began rhythmically sucking, his cool, wet lips lightly squeezing her tender peaks, steadily increasing the pressure of his milking motion. As he drew her yielding flesh in and out, her body obeyed his skilled command and began to release a flow of salty, feminine juices from her pussy.

As he suckled at her, one hand roamed up from the curve of her hip to cup her other breast. Gentle lips and tongue soon gave way to teeth. Carefully, Patrick bit down until his teeth held her nipple like pincers, then stretched her fleshy tip taut. Her moans grew louder as he dropped his hand from her breast down to her buttocks. Jenna parted her thighs to let him settle in between.

Immediately, he cupped her fleshy cheeks in both hands and ground her against him, rubbing his erection along her pussy. At Jenna's fevered encouragements, Patrick slid his thumbs inside the legs of her boxer shorts and held apart her slick folds, allowing him to brush his straining cock as close as he could possibly get with their clothes still on.

"Oh, God, Patrick, can we go inside? I really want you to fuck me," Jenna murmured.

Letting her nipple slip from his mouth with a wet pop, Patrick raised his eyes to hers and chuckled, "I thought you'd never ask. So..." he hesitated, momentarily sheepish. "Uh, your place or mine?"

Okay, so it was kind of funny. Jenna grinned. "Mine. It's closer."

They were barely inside her apartment when Patrick tugged her sweaty shirt up and over her head, tossing it on the floor as he pulled her into a hard kiss. Their tongues dueled as each of them fumbled with the other's waistband and dragged their shorts down. Parting only for the few seconds it took to shove their shorts completely down and off, their mouths dove back together and they slowly devoured each other. Jenna felt Patrick's hands cup her buttocks and as he lifted her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

His hard, thick cock nudged its way between her engorged pussy lips.

"Can I fuck you here? On the table?" Patrick panted, shifting her weight slightly so that the slippery tip of his penis teased at her opening.

"Mmm...unh...no, not sturdy enough," Jenna managed to grunt out. "Bed's the best."

Patrick groaned in disappointment, but staggered back toward her bedroom, carrying her on his hips and stumbling occasionally because he couldn't bring himself to stop kissing her.

When they finally reached the bed, he didn't bother with finesse. He slid her body down and followed with his, not losing contact for a second.

Jenna was in heaven. Patrick was giving her exactly what she wanted, what she needed, and it was hard and fast. He eased her thighs apart and leaned down, resting his shoulders in between and forcing her legs open even wider. With delicate fingers, he opened her pussy to him and lowered his mouth to flick at her throbbing clit with his tongue. Jenna's breath hitched. She raised her hips, grasped Patrick's head very lightly, and slowly began rocking her hot, wet cunt against his face. Patrick pushed his tongue into her slick channel and let her fuck into him.

When she was trembling with need, Patrick removed his tongue and thrust two, long fingers deep into her slick channel. At first he pumped into her slowly, grinding hard against her mons with his palm. To Jenna, it seemed like he was feeling for something as he nudged the tips of his fingers against the walls of her pussy. She wished he would just fuck her, and was about to say something when he brushed against a particular spot in her depths and sent a tidal wave of pleasure crashing through her.

"Oh my GOD!!!" Jenna shouted, arching off the bed and seeing stars.

Patrick stroked his fingers over the same, sensitive spot again, a little more insistently. An involuntary shudder rocked Jenna's frame.

"OhGodohGodohGod!" she panted. "Oh fuck! WhatareyoudoingGodthatfeelssooooogoooooooooood!!!"

She began to push back against his intruding fingers. Between them, they set up an erotic dance. Patrick led, guiding her with smooth, powerful strokes that hit the mark, that wonderful mark, every single time. Jenna dug her feet into his shoulders, gripped with her toes and pulled, tensing her thighs and calves as she worked her dripping hole back and forth on his flesh. There was no shyness. She wanted to be fucked, and she was getting as good as it gets. The pleasure was almost too much -- more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. At last, she knew what "wanton abandon" meant. No longer caring about grace or style, she rutted furiously against Patrick's incredible, talented digits, her breasts jiggling and bouncing on her chest.

Primitive, unladylike grunts fell from her lips and grew louder as a fierce, fiery pleasure mounted in her belly. Finally, Jenna let out what sounded like an agonized scream as she came. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. Her whole world squeezed down to a tight ball of ecstasy that rippled out from within.

For several moments, all Jenna could do was lie helplessly against the sheets and gasp for air. Her heart, still thumping against her chest, began to slow back to a normal pace. All of her muscles felt deliciously weak and sated.

To her horror, Jenna finally noticed the torrent of wetness that had flooded out from her. The sheets were drenched! Oh God, had she peed? This was too embarrassing!

"Oh...oh God! Patrick, I'm so sorry, I'll go get a towel," Jenna apologized in a panic.

He looked at her quizzically. "What? Why?"

Nervously, Jenna glanced between her legs, then back up to Patrick who had propped himself up on his elbows. "It's...erm...kind of messy. I'm sorry, I didn't think I had to go."

Patrick's expression went from quizzical to warm pride, touched with a hint of lust. He shook his head and gently reassured her, "You came like a freight train. It was beautiful."

"Came?...That's...?" Jenna's voice was very small and her eyes widened in dawning comprehension. She had never believed that women ejaculated. Well, never before now.

Gazing incredulously at Patrick, she murmured, "That's never happened to me before. It was...you were incredible. No one's ever made me feel...not even..."

She couldn't bring herself to say David's name.

Patrick grinned broadly and his eyes twinkled in devilish merriment. "It's called an orgasm, Jen. And the next guy is always better than the last guy -- it's a rule. C'mon, where are your bed manners?"

Jenna's face lit up with an answering grin. She threw back her head and laughed deeply, her whole body flooding with giddy delight at the realization that Patrick had just given her a gift. Her first, real, honest-to-goodness orgasm. It was like she'd been in a holding pattern until now, like she'd never really discovered her own body.

"Come here," she whispered softly when she'd sobered.

Green eyes fixed on hers, Patrick crawled up to lower his mouth to hers in a deep, passionate kiss. Jenna could taste her own, tangy desire on his tongue and sucked it down greedily.

When he broke the kiss, they stared at each other for the span of a few heartbeats. Then, grinning wickedly, Jenna spread her legs wider and reached down with one hand to part her pussy lips.

"Fuck me, Patrick," Jenna breathed her demand in a low, seductive purr.

Patrick's expression turned feral and, with a slow smile, he grasped her left ankle and drew her leg up, pausing to place a wet kiss just inside her knee before hooking her foot over his shoulder. Kneeling on the bed, he brought her other leg up and draped it across his arm, opening her to him fully. Still spreading her slick folds with one hand, Jenna took his hard, weighty cock in her other and guided him into her.

She groaned as her moist, velvety channel yielded to the sweet invasion of his girth. His cock felt massive, relentlessly pressing forward into her depths. Jenna hadn't had a chance to get a good look at him in the dim light of her apartment, but it wasn't his length that mattered. All that mattered was how sweetly he was stretching her.

"Jesus, you're so wet!" Patrick gasped when he was seated fully within her.

"You made me so wet," Jenna agreed, resting her hands on his forearms. "You got me so hot and ready for your cock. Please, please fuck me."

Patrick answered her with a hard thrust of his hips, driving his shaft even deeper into her. He pulled back, bringing his fleshy tip almost out of her pearly-slick entrance, then rammed back in, plundering her welcoming heat. With each forceful stroke, Jenna's pussy gloved his throbbing staff. Soon, they were both letting out steady pant-grunts as their pleasure built.

Shifting his weight back so he could balance on his heels, Patrick brought his hands between Jenna's gaping thighs and stretched her pussy even wider. He pistoned his dick in and out, gliding deliciously between her clinging folds. As the juicy smack and slide of their flesh filled the silent room, he fingered her engorged clit, rubbing it and rolling it as he worked himself in her cunt. His thrusts got deeper and deeper, bringing his tight, velvety balls up to slap against her smooth ass. With every jerk of their hips, Jenna's round, firm breasts shimmied from side-to-side on her chest.

Wrapped in a haze of pleasure, Jenna felt Patrick's thick, meaty penis swell even further. She squinted up at him through heavy, lidded eyes and saw his face screwed up in a grimace that looked almost painful. He panted with his mouth wide open, gulping down breaths, and his entire body seemed to stiffen with unbearable tension.

"So...close..." he bit out, craning his neck.

Even racked with the pleasurepain of near-orgasm, Patrick managed to feel out different angles until his cock thrust directly against that divine spot he'd found earlier. Jenna instantly went rigid and cried out in ecstasy. Having found her hidden treasure, Patrick attacked it relentlessly, sliding his rigid length over it again and again until Jenna was mindless with pleasure.

"Oh, you feel so good...Patrick, god, your cock feels so good...want it in me...fuck me...fuck me hard just like that oh GOD!" Jenna found herself chanting beneath her breath.