Apartment 409

It's really a strange thing, how you can live in an apartment and go for months without ever meeting your neighbors. Yeah, you see them in the hall, maybe the lobby, and exchange a few words here and there, but you rarely ever make what you could call a 'connection'. I lived in apartment 409, in one of those trendy downtown apartments for a year before I actually met my neighbor. We were both young anyways. I was 24, I figure she was she was around there too.

Every day since I moved in, I'd see her, often in the morning, but more usually at night. Five or more nights a week, we'd usually get home at the same time, exchange hellos, and slink into our rooms. She was short, maybe five feet, possibly a bit taller. She had very light skin, almost pale, and black hair you could tell was dyed, but I wasn't complaining. Her green eyes were absolutely amazing, too. You could see just how bright they were, even in the dimly-lit hallways, from the six foot distance between our doors. The word enchanting always came to my mind. It was cold in the City at night, so she'd always wear a long, warm looking coat and the hottest boots I'd ever seen. It was always closed, so aside from those boots, and occasionally gloves, I never really knew what her 'style' was. For about a year, we exchanged helloes almost every night, but never actually met.

I had a girlfriend that year too, so I never really put much stock in going out of my way to approach a new woman. It seemed like it would be pretty sketchy, and I really wasn't the unfaithful type so, I was happy to simply continue our brief meetings. My girlfriend would see her occasionally on her way out or in, and every so often the two would talk, but I wasn't ever really present. My girlfriend didn't like her all that much, but she was the type of girl to smile to your face, and scowl behind your back.

One day last week, the shit hit the fan, so to speak. I'd call it the worst day of my life. I took a massive cut in pay and hours, for budgeting reasons. I was asked to cut my shift short, lost my wallet on the bus, got punched in the face for not giving a homeless guy a cigarette—I don't smoke—And my girlfriend was waiting for me when I got home. She normally called ahead. She seemed like she was in a good mood, so I figured the day was looking up. We went upstairs and headed into my apartment. I barely set my keys down before she said, "I've been thinking a lot lately about us, and I don't think it'll work out. I'm sorry." She left. That was literally all she said, and I was left there, standing in my room, dumbfounded. Reality came back after a few minutes of just standing. I didn't really know what to do with myself. I figured I'd get coffee, try to calm my nerves. I grabbed whatever change was on the table next to the door and slipped out. I just stood in front of the door for a bit, going over the day's events in my head again. I reached into my pocket, for my keys, to lock the deadbolt—the knob was always locked, but opened from the inside, and I always locked the deadbolt for good measure when I went out. My keys weren't in my pocket.

It was like I was in a haze at this point. It was like walking though syrup as I meandered to the manager's door and knocked. Nothing. I called his cell. No answer. That was the last straw, the one that broke the camel's back. I wasn't just tired from the day, I was drained. I wandered back to my door and hit it hard as I just let myself kind of fall into it with my back and slid down, sitting in front of my door. I buried my head in my hands and fell asleep to the sound of someone's TV blaring the 6 O'clock news.

I don't remember what I dreamed, but I woke up to the sound of giggling. I didn't even look up when I opened my eyes at first; I figured it was someone wandering past my door. There were boots in front of me, and the person stooped down. It was my neighbor, still giggling.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Half-coherent, I straightened my hair a bit and rubbed my face. I must have been sleeping on the crease of my pants, because I could feel it on the side of my face. I finally looked up at her.

"Yeah, yeah... Just locked out," I said, pushing the best smile I could manage to get out. She smiled back, her smile had genuine warmth. Her coat was opened; I could see she was wearing a cute dress that accentuated her full breasts. It stopped mid thigh, showing just enough skin to give a hint just how shapely her legs were, until they disappeared at the boots, which rose just under her knees.

"How long have you been out here?" she asked, after a moment.

"Maybe an hour, I think?" I looked at my phone. It was nine thirty. "Make that three."

She shrugged a bit, but her smile returned, "Well, your girlfriend's on the way, right? I just saw her heading into the Outlander, are you supposed to meet her there?" The outlander was a notorious pick-up place.

"We... Just broke up."

"Oh..." She looked down and away, her expression turned serious. There was a long pause. Her smile returned. "Have you had dinner, yet?" I shook my head.

"Come on," she said, holding out her hand. She had a surprisingly firm grip and managed to yank me up off of the floor, and went to unlock her door. "I'm Karen, by the way," she said, fiddling with the lock.

"Judah," I replied.

"I like it," she said, opening the door. "Is steak okay? I have so much, I really want to get rid of it," she said with a giggle. "I don't know why I bought so much."

"Yeah, that's fine," I said, following her in.

Her place was clean. Everything was dusted and in its place—it wasn't abnormally clean or anything, I'd just never seen such organization. We had the same apartment setup, but hers just seemed so much bigger. She had a lot of posters up, almost lining the walls. Movies, events, some bands I'd ever never heard of. Furniture was somewhat sparse though—Just a couch and a coffee table. She lived alone from what I knew, so I guess it wasn't all that strange.

"Oh, go ahead and sit anywhere," she said, from the kitchen. There was only that big black couch in the center of room, leather. It looked comfy, so, I felt free to plop down. I gave a look over to the kitchen. She was smiling at me, but turned back to the refrigerator when I looked over.

"I'm really sorry about your girlfriend," she said, rustling some things out of the refrigerator. Most of them went onto the counter, but a bottle of champagne and a bottle of cheap vodka ended up on the table in front of me. She took her jacket off too; she had a very thin, slightly athletic build. She went back to the kitchen and came back with two beers, opening hers on the edge of the table. The cap rolled under the couch. I moved to reach for it, but she waved her hand.

"Cleaning lady'll get it," she said. So, that was the secret. "I'll start cooking in a bit, I just want to sit down for a bit," she said with a smile.

"No worries," I replied, slowly drinking my own beer.

"What kind of music do you like?" She asked, reaching for a controller on the table in front of us.

"I can listen to whatever," I responded, and she smiled, pushing some buttons.

"Well... Tell me what you think of this," she began, "It's rock, kinda garage-y, but it grows on you. I need to start cooking," she said, smiling. Her beer was finished; mine was still almost at the top. She rose and went into the kitchen.

"Need any help in there?" I called after her.

"No, no, relax. Enjoy the music, or change it if you want."

She spent the next fifteen or so minutes in the kitchen, cooking at lightning speed. I glanced over a few times. She was smiling right back at me about half the time.

We ate. We drank champagne. We drank Vodka. We talked. We listened to garage bands. It was the ultimate turnaround. My day was horrible, but my night was looking up. The conversation was good, though—we talked about this, that, and whatever other stuff came to our minds. We had a lot in common and both worked in art. We finally reached a point where we were satisfied with food, drink, and company, and resolved to simply listen to music for a bit. I didn't notice at first, but one of her feet was resting on mine, across the table.

"You can take your shoes off, if you want, by the way," she said, just as I realized where her feet were. I smiled and figured I may as well—the clock read 12:39 and I wasn't getting back into my apartment. She got up too and started fiddling with the music. She stopped on one song that had a middle eastern-ethnic feel to it, and an amazing female vocalist. Once my shoes were off, she grabbed my hands, and in the middle of her floor, we started to dance. I never danced. It was nice though, like having our own little club in her room. I was a bit awkward at first, I never could quite get moving the way I wanted to, but that didn't bother her one bit. We danced face to face, and so close I could feel her body almost pressing against mine. She kept pulling me closer and closer. I was tall, so I had to lean down a bit—certainly didn't help my grace, but it gave a more intimate feeling. She smiled, almost deviously. I could feel her breath on my neck. Then her lips. Then her tongue. We weren't dancing anymore.

I was in sheer ecstasy. I couldn't move, I could barely form coherent thoughts. Her arms were around my waist now, tightening as she sucked, licked, blew, and breathed on my neck. She stopped, and a hand moved to the back of my neck as she looked up at me. Her eyes were the most gorgeous green. Her lips came up to meet mine. I was amazed. She was gentle, rough, and playful all at once.

We somehow managed to stagger back to the couch without breaking connection. She broke the kiss and returned to my neck as soon as I sat down. Her hands were opening the buttons on my shirt. She worked so fast, I could have sworn she was a professional. She went back to my neck. Her breath was just as stimulating as every lick, bite, kiss, and suck she made. I was rock hard and throbbing. I held her by the waist and pulled her up, she immediately straddled me and her lips returned to mine. This time, I broke the kiss, sliding the spaghetti straps on her dress down. She eagerly slid the cloth out of the way, revealing her gorgeous breasts. Her pink nipples were already hard, waiting to be sucked on. I never was good with breast sizes, but they were at least a handful and that was nothing to be ashamed of. They were nice and firm, but soft to the touch. It seemed like my touch was electric. She gasped and shivered as I gave her breasts the attention they deserved, and not just the nipples. I nibbled, sucked, and kissed everywhere.

Her hands ran along my arms and neck, her nails occasionally planted themselves. She was out of her mind. Without warning, she slid down, and fumbled with my zipper. This wasn't nearly as swift as the shirt, she was almost shuddering with anticipation. It took her a few moments, but she finally pulled out my cock, and just held it for a moment, almost sizing it up. Then she gave the head a long kiss, and slowly—Very slowly—started to take the length into her mouth. She moaned softly as she grasped and fondled one of her breasts with her free hand. Her head slowly came back up, then slowly down again. She repeated this for a few minutes. I'd never had any suck so slowly, so thoughtfully. It was amazing, and I couldn't keep quiet. I was a pretty quiet guy normally, but she forced the loudest moan I'd ever hear come out of my mouth. She looked up at me with those green eyes, filled with hunger, passion, and lust. I could have sworn she cast a spell on me then and there.

Her hand moved down her stomach, and under her dress, I could hear just how wet she was. I could hear when her fingers moved in and out so clearly, it just served to make me even harder. She started bobbing her head faster, and went down as far as she could. She deep throated the whole thing, and stayed there for a good few seconds, and I'm a large-than-average guy. I could feel her throat twitching, tightening on my rock hard cock. She came back up, and half-standing, kissed me again. That hand that was exploring her pussy came to my face. Her fingers were drenched, and slid between our lips. The taste was almost sweet, and the smell was intoxicating.

She moved to straddle me again, one foot on the floor, the other on the couch by my thigh. She held onto the couch with one hand, and her other rubbed my cock against her wet pussy. I'd never felt a girl so wet, I would have sworn it was lube if I didn't know any better. I could feel her juices running down my cock; even her thighs were getting wet. She rubbed my cock all around her vagina and thighs, and held it against her clit, rocking against it.

She brought my cock back down and slowly began to lower herself, teasing. Just the head for the first few moments, moving between slipping just the tiniest bit into her hot, wet pussy, and rubbing her clit with my cock. Finally, she brought her other foot up onto the couch and brought me all the way in. Her body was hotter than any human body I felt before, and she began to fuck herself with my cock, gyrating her hips with amazing speed and fluidity. My mouth returned to her tits, and one of my hands found its way to her pussy, rubbing her clit with my thumb. She changed position a bit, getting more onto her knees, I could feel myself penetrating deeper into her, her muscles tightened on my cock as she slid back and forth. I grabbed her hips again, and now I began to thrust, rhythmically with her. She rose up a bit, to really feel the length of my cock sliding in and out of her.

The music was somewhat loud, but she overpowered it as moans turns to screams and almost shrieks. We started fucking harder and harder, both of us coming dangerously close to what could only be an amazing climax. Her voice changed a bit as she got closer, more high pitched, faster, frantic. She wasn't using words anymore—she was in such ecstasy, she was almost crying. She let go of the couch and grabbed onto me now, nails almost piercing my back as she clawed her way closer to an orgasm. All at once, she wrapped her arms around my neck and started to ride me harder than anyone in my life. She was beyond sounds now. She was almost silent, the expression on her face looks like she was screaming, but completely mute. Her body tensed, and her pussy just became so tight I couldn't take it anymore. She forced herself down the moment I came, but never stopped rocking her hips.

She finally began to slow down after what I counted was her third orgasm. She slowly lifted herself off of my cock, some cum still spilled down her legs and onto my cock. She barely managed to roll over onto the couch next to me. We sat there for at least 10 minutes before either of us said anything.

"Do you work tomorrow?" she asked.

"No," I responded.

"I'll make some coffee," she said with a very broad smile. We were going to be up for a while.