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Kicking a path through drifts of rain-wet gingko leaves, I followed Lynch Street up and over the hump of a hill, then followed Gower down the far slope until it emptied into Holly Park. I lingered for a moment by the gate and looked across the wide green field toward the apartment house where Erin and I lived. It was a red brick box perched on the shoulder of a low ridge, and was called The Riverside, even though the river was five blocks away. Looking up, I could see the third-storey window of the bedroom where Erin and I slept (as opposed to the window hidden around the corner, which belonged the bedroom where we fucked). The sash was pushed halfway up to let in the unseasonably warm autumn breeze, and the row of blue glass insulators aligned along the sill glinted in the fading light. I set out on the ascending path, feeling weightless despite the nagging tug of gravity. It had been a long day down at the studio where I worked, and all I wanted now was to take Erin into my arms and kiss her long and deep.
The shadow of a lonely cloud chased me into the foyer, then the sun reemerged and spilled a wine-colored glow into the lobby. The brass trim around the elevator door shone bright gold, and the checkerboard tiles of the floor revealed a network of ancient scars. I liked this old building a lot, especially the old-fashioned mailboxes with their combination locks and tiny windows, and the ceiling lights that were vaguely botanical, with globes like ripe buds hanging from thin stems. The whole place gave off a tangible aura of history, a sense of memories tucked away like paper prayers in every corner and crevice. Besides, it was nice to finally live outside the confines of the student ghetto, where we’d had our first apartment. Here in the fading heart of the city there were all different kinds of people living out their individual stories, and we liked to speculate upon the secret adventures that might be going on all around us. After all, we were both, at heart, unrepentant voyeurs.
As the elevator chimed past the second floor, I thought back to how Erin and I had laid on our stomachs and listened to the people downstairs the night before. We had been sharing a tightly-wound little joint when we heard the apartment under us come to life, the muffled sounds of doors opening and closing rising up through the gaps between rugs. No one actually lived down there, not full-time, anyway. Instead, as far as we could tell, a couple was using it for a meeting-place, somewhere to spend a few stolen moments once a week or so. Since Erin worked nights, she was often home during the day, and she occasionally woke up from her afternoon slumber to find the room filled with moans and sighs and the insistent pulse of a headboard pounding against the wall. She liked to sit by the window and wait for the couple to leave, so that, like an amateur spy, she could study them and illegal bahis imagine the details of their affair. By now, we thought we knew the general pattern of their relationship, though it was erratic at times, with trysts now and then happening in the middle of the night, or during the mornings for weeks on end.
This time, there must have been a good opportunity on both sides for arranging a rendezvous in the early evening. We heard water running, or rather sensed the sympathetic vibration in the tiles of our bathroom. Then we could hear the murmur of voices, a subtle hum flowing like live current under the floorboards. Erin looked off into space and smiled to herself while plucking absent-mindedly at the waistband of her panties. I lay the wet brown roach in the ashtray on the end table, then leaned over to nuzzle Erin’s neck. Her hair smelled good, her skin smelled better, and my cock grew warm in anticipation of sometime soon getting to revel in the scent of her delectable pussy. But Erin pushed me away with a quiet giggle, then put her finger to her lips. She scooted her ass off the futon sofa and sank to the floor, grabbing at my hand as she rolled over on her belly. I followed her down and lay beside her, pushing all the scattered rugs and pillows into a pile against the baseboard. We turned our heads sideways so that we could face each other. Erin grinned and looked deep into my eyes while a mischievous spark danced in her own.
When I pressed my ear down, I could hear someone knocking about as if they were shifting furniture or going in and out of dresser drawers. It would have been really nice to be able to see through the floor, to hover above the couple downstairs and watch them as they moved through ritual toward sex. But listening was good, too, because then you could picture almost anything in your mind’s eye. Plus, it was arousing as hell, knowing that soon our whole apartment would soak up the ghostly essence of a clandestine screw.
I lay a little apart from Erin and reached across the space between us to hold her hand. She squeezed my fingers, then sucked gently on her lower lip, excitement bringing a flush to her cream-colored skin. Now we could hear nothing but cars gliding slowly up and down the street outside. I whispered, “They’re kissing,” and Erin nodded and mouthed a silent yes. I was tempted to follow our neighbor’s lead and take Erin’s tongue into my mouth, but I also liked watching as she rolled over on her side and began toying with her erect nipple through the thin cloth of her t-shirt. So I stayed where I was, connected to my soulmate only through my fingertips and gaze.
Soon, we could hear a bedspring creaking, though there wasn’t yet a rhythm to the sound. It was more like the noise you make when you first tumble onto the mattress with a lover and playfully wrestle around, visiting every erogenous zone with a fast illegal bahis siteleri lick or caress. Erin got a faraway look in her eyes and sat up long enough to pull off her t-shirt. Her cherry-colored nipples stood out like the triggers on a joystick, but I didn’t reach out to touch them, instead inventing an unspoken rule for tonight’s game: look and listen, but don’t rush anything. Erin and I were in synch at times like this, and I knew she would read my mind and follow along.
She lifted her hip off the floor after she lay back down, and slipped off her panties one-handed, kicking them into a corner. Then she crooked her leg and let her hand drop toward her well-trimmed little bush. Inspired, I got undressed in turn, adding my clothes to the cushiony pile behind my back. I traced the length of my erection with a slow finger, up and down and up again. I kept my head flat on the floorboards, and could now hear a murmuring female voice. I thought I could even make out the occasional word, but that might have been half wishful thinking. Looking across at Erin, I could tell she was concentrating hard, even as she dipped her finger into her sex and brought it up to spread juice on her nipple.
After a while, the rocking began in earnest. The lovers downstairs had moved through foreplay a little faster than usual, perhaps under pressure to get back to their separate lives before some deadline or other. They began to fuck in unison, making their borrowed bed tap then pound against the wall. I could hear both of them moaning, crying out, telling each other without words all about the pleasure they shared. Meanwhile, Erin and I stayed as quiet as possible, and avoided moving too much lest we make the floorboards squeak and give us away.
I began to stroke my hardon while Erin splayed her fingers across her wide-open vulva. Together, we masturbated in a slow and relaxed way, stealing glances at one another, mutually excited by being so close, yet touching only by holding hands. We listened to our neighbors as they made the walls thrum to a sexy beat. They were lost in their moment and grew loud enough we could hear their voices come in through the half-open window, as well as from below. Then, when we heard the unmistakable shout of someone riding the crest of an immense orgasm, we giggled and began loving ourselves a little harder and faster, and raced each other toward bliss.
Erin came first. She strummed her swollen clitoris with her middle finger, her other fingers held up and away like the spread limbs of a spider. Then she suddenly arched her back and bit her lip, and a tear trickled down her cheek as she moaned deep in her throat. I held her hand tight while watching her squirt love-juice into a puddle between her thighs. She was so beautiful like that, her perfect small body wracked with wave after wave of pleasure, her ripe breasts tipped canlı bahis siteleri with nipples hard as candy, the muscles in her neck tensed to draw out the glow of her come.
Now a man’s voice rushed up into the ceiling and out the floor. He was coming hard, his semen probably bursting out in a flood from being pent-up too long. I became hyper-aroused and stroked my hardon as fast as I could. Erin, still floating down from cloud nine, rolled over to watch me from under heavy eyelids. Her breasts jiggled as I pounded my fist up and down my cock, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to cover them with sperm.
I sat up on my knees and held my cock out toward Erin. The lovers downstairs had gone quiet again, no doubt basking in the warmth of their secret love. I could feel the heat of an impending orgasm rise up through my shaft, and I slowed my strokes so I could glide into a smooth come. I looked down and watched my cockhead swell, then watched it twitch as a ribbon of milky jism flew out and landed with a smack on Erin’s skin. She immediately picked the strand up on her fingertip and touched it to her tongue. My cock spasmed again and again and emptied my balls of juice. Erin spread my semen all over her tits and belly, while grinning wickedly up at me. I sat back and let her tongue my throbbing shaft until she had licked it clean.
We heard water running again as someone flushed the downstairs toilet, then heard the sounds of doors closing, one after another until the lovers had left the apartment entirely. Erin reached up to switch off a lamp, then leaned on the windowseat to keep an eye on the street below. It wasn’t long before she gestured that I should I join her. I put my arm around her and watched the couple walk out of the building and down the sidewalk toward separate cars. They were both somewhat older than Erin and I, but attractive. The woman had dark red hair, kept curly and short; the man was tall with longish black hair. He slightly resembled a professor I’d had once for anthropology, but I couldn’t be certain it was him from this angle, especially as dusk had finally settled on the neighborhood.
Later that night, laying sleepless in bed, we talked about spying on them for real sometime…sneaking into their apartment to watch them from a hiding-place. We also fantasized about contriving a way to invite them up for a night of sexual adventure. In the end, though, we agreed that they seemed like a private couple, and that we might be better off just leaving them alone. Who knew what their true story was, after all….
Lost in this reverie about the night before, I had sleepwalked from the elevator to my door. Shaking off the daydream, I found myself standing there with the key in my hand, reluctant as always to knock in case Erin was napping or busy. Glancing toward the window at the end of the hall, I could see that the sun had sunk low in the sky and was now a bloated tangerine on the horizon. I slipped the key in the slot and turned the knob, then stepped inside to look for Erin so I could give her the kiss I’d wanted to give her all day….
To Be Continued…
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