Two Women

Have you ever noticed that women have a practical and opportunistic streak in them? It's true. They talk a lot about love and genuinely mean it, but they can still be ruthlessly practical where affairs of the heart are concerned. I actually ran into this ruthless practicality a while back.

I'm nearly thirty and unmarried. I like the ladies but there hasn't been one that's caught my eye enough for me to want to make the relationship permanent. I suspect that this will change before too much longer but for now I was just having fun where relationships were concerned.

My current residence is a single bedroom unit in a block of flats. For some reason the architect had designed each level with a three-bedroom unit, a couple of two-bedroom units, and a single bedroom unit, mine. Relatively cheap rent so I was able to save some extra cash which I would use as a deposit on a real house somewhere in the near future.

The other tenants in the block of flats ranged from an elderly man in the single unit on the ground floor through married couples, young and middle-aged, with and without children and several single people (like me). Being an observant young man I knew most of the tenants by sight and name, especially the female tenants. What can I say? I have an eye for the female form.

One Thursday I took advantage of a slack time at work to knock off early. I figured I'd go home, grab a bite to eat, and then join some friends at the local pub for a few drinks and a game or two of snooker.

Normally when I get home I run up the stairs. Good exercise, don't you know. This particular day I was strolling very casually up the stairs, because there was someone else ascending ahead of me. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't holding back for the sake of politeness -- there was plenty of room to pass if I was actually in a hurry. No, the reason I took my time ascending was because there was a delightful tush swaying from side to side as a young lady climbed the stairs in front of me.

If my memory served me correctly, and I was sure it did, that lovely bottom swishing about in a pair of yoga pants was owned by Karen, a young lady in her early twenties (very early) who was the lovely young wife of Gregory, the resident of one of the two-bedroom units on my floor.

Reaching the landing Karen flung the door open. She happened to glance back and see me and from the look on her face I wouldn't have been surprised to have her slam the door in my face. Good manners prevailed and she held the door open for me.

"Afternoon, Karen," I said, smiling. "A beautiful day, isn't it?"

She tilted her head to one side as though considering my question. Then she shook her head.

"No," she said. "All things considered I'd have to say it's a crappy day."

"Really? Ah, what things am I failing to take into consideration?"

"Well, for a start it's Greg's birthday tomorrow."

"I'd have thought that that would be a plus," I suggested. "You know, celebrations and gifts and cakes."

"Yes, I know, but the thing is that, while I've baked the cake, I don't have his present yet and that's what makes it a rotten day."

"I still don't see the problem. The shops will be open for hours. Run, don't walk, to the mall and spend a relaxing hour shopping for the ideal present."

"I did," she yelled. "I found it weeks ago. I put a deposit on it and I've been paying it off. I was going to pick it up this evening but then I found I don't have the final payment. I overspent on groceries this week, completely forgetting I had to pick up the present. I was feeling really chuffed because I could do such a big shop getting the damn groceries. Now what am I supposed to do. Paying it off next week will be such a letdown. I wanted Greg to find it first thing in the morning, not next week."

We'd been drifting down the hallway as we talked, coming to a halt outside my door. Before she continued on her fuming way I had a suggestion to make.

"What you need is a way to make a little extra money quickly," I told her.

"I know that, but what the hell am I supposed to do?"

I unlocked my door and opened it before continuing.

"Well, this is just a suggestion, but if you care to step inside and take off your clothes I'm sure we could come to a mutually satisfying agreement."

As expected she promptly blushed and started to get angry.

"Do you really think that I'm going to go and do a strip tease for you just for a few lousy dollars?"

"Certainly not," I protested. "The stripping would only be the start of the fun."

"You're disgusting," she snapped.

Maybe I was and maybe I wasn't. She was still standing there ready to argue about it.

"Don't be silly. It's perfectly natural behaviour. I'm sure that I'd enjoy it immensely. It's also the perfect solution to your problem. Half an hour of your time and then you'll be free to do the run, not walk, bit down to the mall to pick up the present. Think how Greg will feel when he sees his present first thing in the morning."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that," she said in a voice loaded with snark. "How about you consider how Greg will feel when he finds out that I was fucking you?"

"Well I have no intention of telling him and if you were silly enough to do so you'll find that I would flatly deny that it ever happened."

She stood there giving me a glowering look but her busy little brain was thinking it through.

"Just what do you intend doing?" she demanded.

"Basically what I just suggested. Have you come inside and then watch you as you get undressed. Once you're nice and naked I'll be touching you all over, finishing up by introducing you to Wee Willy Winkle for some healthy horizontal exercise."

"You don't even know how much I need," she pointed out, but I just waved that away.

"Incidental," I assured her. "You've got too much pride to cheat me on this. I'll take your word for the amount."

I reached out and placed the tips of my fingers on her elbow and gave a gentle push, encouraging her to move towards the door. She did so, hesitantly at first, but once she started moving she kept on going. I thoughtfully close and locked the door behind us.

Karen stood there looking a little nervous. I gave her room, sitting in a convenient chair and leaning back slightly. Leaning forward could be seen as threatening and I didn't want that.

"Why do I have to take my clothes off?" she grumbled. "I'd have thought you'd want to do that."

She thought right. I'd love to tear her clothes off. But if I started undressing her she might panic and bolt. If she did it she would be accepting what was going to happen and would also start getting aroused. I mean, she'd be stripping in front of a man who was going to make love to her. It couldn't help but get through to her as a rather basic level.

"I just feel that you'll feel better if you do it," I told her. "That way you can stop at any time if you change your mind."

She stood there, looking at me, chewing on her lip, and fiddling with a button on her blouse. When the button popped open her hands automatically dropped to the next one. Once she'd started she was going to find it very hard to stop, despite my saying she could change her mind. If she stopped once she'd started she'd feel that she'd lost a contest and she wasn't in the mood to be a loser.

One after the others her buttons popped open, the blouse gaping to reveal a lacy bra and a very nice pair of breasts. She pulled her blouse loose from her yoga pants, not looking directly at me but certainly taking surreptitious peeks to ensure that I was watching her. I was. I most certainly was.

Once her blouse was loose she slipped it off, laying it neatly on the other chair. Her hands dropped down and she slid her thumbs inside the waist-band of her yoga pants. She started to push them down then hesitated and lifted her hands away. Watching me she reached behind and unhooked her bra, letting it drop away, having it join her blouse on the chair. She also watched me closely to see my reaction to her breasts being on display.

I nodded in genuine appreciation. She really had nice breasts, high and firm, creamy white with nice pink tips. Watching them I could see her nipples crinkling, starting to stand out. Why was the simple act of getting undressed so arousing to a young woman? The knowledge of what was going to happen to her very shortly?

Her thumbs went back to her yoga pants and she started easing them down. Not just pushing them down but easing then gently down past her hips, watching my reaction as she did so. She also collected her panties as she went, turning slightly to one side to stop me getting a full on view.

As she bent down, sliding them down, that side view gave me an excellent view of her breasts as they dangled below her. I could just imagine how they would feel in my hands while I stood behind her, thrusting into her.

She didn't catch on to a little mistake she'd made until she went to push her things over her ankle and foot. She was wearing large sneakers, and there was no way those yoga pants were going to slide over them. She froze, not quite knowing what to do. If she sat on the floor to take her sneakers off she was going to be showing everything in a rather blatant manner. If she tried to take them off still standing then she could always fall over. She finally shuffled back a bit to the chair, sitting down to undo her sneakers, hurriedly pushing both them and her pants off, blushing furiously.

She continued sitting on the chair so I stood up and crossed over to her. I held out my hands to her and then encouraged her to stand, standing back and holding her arms wide while I looked at her.

"Outstanding," I said softly, letting go her hands and reaching out to lightly caress her breasts. She gave a little gasp as I rolled her erect nipples around in my palms.

Stepping back I loosened my tie, undid a couple of buttons at the top of my shirt, and then hauled shirt, tie, and singlet off with one move, tossing them casually to one side. Watching her as I moved I toed my shoes off, winking at her when she noticed me doing so, enjoying her blush. Then it was belt undone, trousers unzipped, and trousers and undies coming off with one swift move, tossing them to join my other things.

Karen's eyes zeroed in on my erection, blushing again but apparently unable to not look at it. I was quite flattered, assuming that it was appreciation she was showing. If it wasn't, I didn't want to know.

I took a step towards her, pulling her flush against me, her breasts crushed against my chest, my cock pressing firmly against her lower stomach, something she was acutely aware of from the way her eyes widened.

I ran my hands down her back, closing over her bottom and squeezing slightly. From there they migrated around to her front, brushing against her mons before moving up to capture her breasts again. I cupped her breasts, holding them up slightly, nipples exposed. Bending my head I captured first one nipple and then the other, sucking lightly, teasing them.

I played with her breasts for a while, keeping one eye on her reaction. Apart from making a couple of surprised sounds she didn't say anything, maintaining her silence until I sank down onto one knee, my mouth not losing contact as I descended. When my mouth drifted over her mons and started kissing her vulva.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice having a strained sound to it.

"Just tasting you a little," I said, drawing my head back for a moment. "Don't worry. You'll get your turn."

Then my mouth was back, my tongue exploring her, while I ignored her questions about what did I mean, her turn.

When I finally drew my head back her lips were puffy and parted, her inner lips protruding and waiting. I rose to my feet, took her hand and placed it against my cock, gratified to feel her hot little hand wrapping around me.

"Your turn," I said, lightly touching her lips.

She looked down at the prize her hand was clutching, realization dawning on her. She swallowed rather nervously and then sank down to her knees, her mouth opening and engulfing me.

Ye gods but she knew what she was doing. Mouth, tongue, and teeth, all combined to torture my poor cock. I could feel it swelling even more, painful in its fullness, and she wasn't relenting, teasing and tasting and doing her best to drive me wild.

I suspected that she was going to keep going until I exploded, deriving me of her tender young body, but I didn't really care. I was watching her head bobbing as she tormented me, surprised when she suddenly turned her head and looked up at me. Apparently she saw what she was looking for because she released me, rising to her feet.

"You have a glazed look in your eye," she calmly informed me. "I'll count that as a win to me."

I wanted to yell at the rotten little bitch but was feeling too strung out to do so. Instead I dragged her up against me again, my hands clamping over her bottom.

"Spread your legs, damn you," I said in a rather hoarse voice as I lifted her, dragging her up against me.

The rotten minx was giggling at me as she did as she was told, spreading her legs and wrapping them around me. She was high enough for my cock to settle between her legs and I started lowering her again, hearing her gasp as my cock pressed firmly against her. She reached down with one hand and adjusted my position slightly and then she was settling down onto me while I did my best to thrust all the way home with a single stroke.

For a moment I just stood there, enjoying the feel of her being impaled on my weapon, both of us breathing hard. Deciding that just standing there wasn't going to get the job done I settled down onto one knee and then leaned forward, pressing her down onto the carpet and covering her, holding her there with my weight.

Then I started moving, pulling back and driving in firmly. Ha, who am I kidding? I was driving in damned hard and she was flexing her legs, pushing urgently to meet me, giving as good as she got in a frenzy of excitement. We were both far too worked up to take it nice and easy. Hell for leather was the mood that suited us and that's what we were doing.

I banged away hard, knowing I wasn't going to last long and not giving a damn, because I was just as sure that she wouldn't be lasting very long either.

She'd started off silently enough but she was now giving voice, urging me on, demanding that I satisfy her and to do it NOW!

Then I was at the point of no return and exploding deep inside her, hearing her give a deep groan as she clamped down on me, her own climax driving her wild.

"That was something different," she finally said after we'd separated. "And you owe me for the final payment of Greg's present."

I determined the amount and paid up like a gentleman. It was actually less than I'd expected. She tucked the money into her purse and reached for her clothes.

"Before you get dressed," I suggested, "I think I'm capable of a second round."

"You have to be kidding," she said frowning at me. "I don't do that sort of thing."

I just stood there, stunned at the sheer audacity of that statement, while she calmly dressed. Then she gave me a casual wave and departed, presumably off to the mall to pick up the present.

I ticked that off as a one-off. I wouldn't mind a chance to play another round of slap and tickle with her but I suspected that it was unlikely to come about. There was one unexpected spin-off from that little episode.

A few weeks later there was a knock on my door and when I opened it I found a sweet young thing standing there. I knew her but hadn't realised that she knew me. Her name was Michelle and she lived in a unit on a higher floor. My understanding was that she was married but I didn't know for certain.

"Um, can I come in for a moment," she said, sounding a little nervous and looking up and down the hallway. "Karen suggested that I talk to you."

I shrugged and stepped back letting her enter, closing the door behind her. She stood there nibbling on her thumb, looking at me with an increasing nervous gaze, trying to work out how to approach what she wanted to say. Finally she bit the bullet and just said it, gabbling it out as fast as she could.

"I need fifty dollars and Karen said you'd probably give it to me as hush money if I didn't object to being raped."

I slowly digested that, wondering just what sort of rumours Karen had been spreading about me.

"Taking that a bit at a time, you need fifty dollars?"

Michelle nodded, looking hopeful.

"Ah, I was under the impression that you were married. Why not just ask your husband for the money?"

"Because he'd be furious with me. I'd forgotten he'd given it to me to pay a silly bill and went and spent it and when he asked me about the bill I assured him that I'd paid it. I can't now tell him that I spent the money."

"So Karen told you that I might let you have it. Um, did she actually say that I'd also rape you?"

"Not in so many words but her meaning came through clearly enough. I mean, it's not as though I'd agree to have sex with you so it has to be rape."

"I get it. So you have no objection to my raping you as long as you get the fifty afterwards?"

She nodded, giving me a hopeful look.

"Wouldn't facing your husband's wrath be better than being stripped naked and ravished?"

"No," she said in a most uncompromising voice.

This was a first for me. A young lady practically demanding that I rape her. Should I or shouldn't I?

"But what's your husband going to say when he finds out that you've been raped?"

She gave me a look that was plainly asking if I was insane.

"You don't think I'd tell him, do you?" she said, sounding horrified. "He'd think it was my fault. Besides, the fifty is to make sure I don't tell anyone."

"Not even Karen?"

She looked undecided there, and then sighed.

"All right," she said, sounding very put upon. "Not even Karen."

Why didn't I believe that? Still, even if she did blab I didn't see that it would matter.

"OK, then. Ah, if I'm going to rape you then perhaps you should take your clothes off."

"What?"

"Your clothes. You will need to get undressed. I can't rape you dressed like that, now can I?"

"I, ah, thought that you'd, um, take off my clothes," she said in a small voice.

"Me? Oh no, that wouldn't be right. I might get all impatient and tear something and your outfit looks very nice. It'd be a crying shame if it got torn or damaged by my crude attentions. Far better for you to undress yourself. It's, ah, not as though I'm giving you a choice. I'm demanding that you get undressed."

I'm not sure how completely she swallowed that garbage but I guess it helped her rationalise what she was doing. She was still looking nervous but she unzipped her dress and laid it neatly over the back of a chair. She was wearing a very nice set of matched undies in a lacy lime green. I read somewhere that if a woman expects to get naked in front of a man she'll wear a matching set of undies so that she looks her best as she strips. Apparently that also applies when you expect to get raped.

It seemed to me that Michelle showed a certain amount of élan as she slipped off her underwear. Now naked (apart from her sandals which she'd retained for some reason) she stood there facing me, hands behind her back, a slight blush on her face, while she gently bit her lip. She was a sight well worth seeing.

I was proved right once again about getting undressed in front of a man being arousing. She was breathing slightly harder and this was doing delicious things to her chest. Her nipples were blatantly erect and she was twisting about a little, as if reluctant to have me look at her. For all her apparent reluctance she was making sure I got a good view.

I moved closer and started admiring her tactilely, stroking all those lovely curves with honest appreciation. I'll swear her breasts swelled slightly under my touch and I damn well know her vulva did. I could feel the heat and the dampness already there. She started moaning at this stage. As in moaning in complaint, not lust.