Wednesday, April 6, 2011

The Window - Erotic Fiction

Your heels make metronome like clicks on the concrete. You rummage through your purse, struggling to find the slip of paper with the restaurant address. Unhurried you have time to spare. It has been a long day and getting there early for a few moments of solitude off your feet with a drink sounds wonderful. Enjoying the warm spring breeze you find the note and as you reach for it a gust sends it tumbling down the alley. You roll your eyes with a heavy sigh and rush after it.

You see the note get caught on a half crushed Pepsi can and slow your pace. Looking around you realize you are behind a fairly nice downtown apartment complex. Reaching the note you bend down to pick it up and upon rising a movement catches your eye. You find yourself looking through a half open shower window. A man with his back to you is rinsing his hair. His calf muscles flex as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. Your gaze makes its way up his tanned legs and past his knees. His skin becomes noticeably lighter mid-thigh from wearing shorts.

Your pounding heart causes you to quickly look around. You are alone. You look back to the window. Mesmerized you watch as the soap rolls down his strong back, white bubbles contrasting against his golden skin. He begins to turn around. After seeing his eyes are closed you realize you had been holding your breath. He leans back and the water cascades down his face, the hair of his chest is flat against his skin. He reaches out and his hand returns with a bar of soap. He begins to lather his chest, now belly. He soaps his pubic hair; his other hand lathers under his sex. You watch as his manhood becomes erect, hard; his hand slowly stroking its length.

Feeling naughty, but enthralled, you take a small step forward. The toe of your shoe inadvertently kicks the pop can the restaurant address had been caught on. The noise is jarring. Your hand jumps to your mouth in fear. Returning your eyes back to the window you find his eyes looking back at you. Your chest grows cold and tight as recognition hits, you know this man! Jolting as if struck you turn quickly and hurry toward the street.

You think, "Oh my god! It was the guy who delivers packages to the office!" Upon reaching the street he is suddenly rounding the corner toward you; bare feet, bare chested with sweat pants. You freeze and you feel your cheeks reddening. Suddenly he is standing before you.

Grinning sheepishly he says, "Umm well I guess we should talk, huh?" You nod your head dumbly, too embarrassed to speak. "Ok, well why don't you come back to my apartment.", he says. He turns walking back the way he came. In a daze you follow.

You walk past a large bay window facing the street and he turns and opens the door to his apartment. You step inside. He closes the door and says, "Well since I see you a couple of times a week I thought it would be best if we just get this awkwardness settled now rather than later. So... ummm... how long were you there? What all did you see?"

Your mouth moves but no words come out at first. You look down and see the bulge in his sweat pants. You feel the heat of your embarrassment warming your face again. You look back up to his face. With a gush you say, "I'm... I'm... so sorry."

His eyebrows raise, "Oh that long huh?"

"I'm sorry... I... I... just better go.", you reply. You step toward the door and he steps in front of you. His hand reaches behind your neck pulling you in for a kiss. You feel his hardness against you barely concealed by his sweat pants. Overcome, your heart pounding you find yourself pushing him onto the couch under the window and wriggling out of your soaked panties. You pull down the sweats, straddle and lower your self on to him. Within a couple of breaths he is fully inside you. With one hand against his hard stomach and the other stroking your sex, your bodies buck as one. Soon your moans are echoing within the apartment and you are arching your back. Heat blooms within your core and you shudder from head to toe with orgasm.

You slump onto his shoulder panting through your hair. Sitting up with a smile you look out the bay window and see your friends across the street in front of the restaurant where you are supposed to meet them; one of them is looking right at you, brow furrowed, with their head inquisitively cocked.

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