Cigarette man's rhythm, thrown off by the fall, and then by him pulling back to grip the door, resumed, a steady pounding that restoked the passions the fall has slowed. Past my anonymous lover's head I made out the features of the stranger who caught me.
I writhed in his arms, dimly realizing he must be the latest boyfriend of my neighbor Rita. My orgasm rolled over me as our eyes stayed locked, mine with pleasure and shame, his with shocked amazement and dawning lust.
My mind dredged up the last time I'd met one of Rita's boyfriends. I'd come back from a party I hadn't even wanted to attend, having been dumped not long ago by my then-boyfriend. My neighbor, Rita, whom I'd always assumed to be a stripper, had just entered her door, opposite mine when I'd come staggering into view.
My clothes were in disarray from my last tryst with my boyfriend, at the end of which he'd called out, of all things, Rita's name. It came out then that he'd been visiting her across the hall, sometimes before and sometimes after he'd been with me.
I hadn't cleaned up or re-arranged my clothes on my way home and as I came around the corner I saw her disappear through her door. A rough-looking guy, one of those bad-seed types that look and feel so good, but are in fact so bad, was behind her, his hand firmly on her firm ass.
My thoughts before seeing him had been torn between collapsing in bed for days or killing Rita. Now, seeing him, I froze. As if sensing prey his eyes took on a predatory cast.
"Hey, I forgot something in the car. I'll be back in five," he said into the apartment.
Rita said something back to him, maybe even his name, but I never knew what it was. He closed the door firmly, his eyes boring into mine, and he motioned me forward.
Like a puppet on a string, my eyes never leaving his, I walked forward timidly, stopping hesitantly in front of him. His hand reached out, cupping my rump like he was comparing it to Rita's.
"Turn around," he said, and I did, trembling as his hand lower to the hem of my dress, reaching under until he found my panties. With one swift tug he yanked them down, gravity doing the rest of the work until the fell to the ground. Obediently I stepped out of them. the sound of a zipper made my middle clench.
Was he going to kiss me? Was he going to finger me, or rub my breasts? Surely there'd be some kind of foreplay?
But no, he just shoved me into the door, and while my hands caught me against the door he lifted my skirt and pushed himself in.
Without even a condom - every boyfriend I'd had was forced to always use one - he pushed himself deeper and deeper with rough in and out motions.
I simply leaned my head against the door, my body for him to use as he wanted. His hands pulled me harder and harder against him as he thrust deeper and deeper.
When my orgasm came it hit me with total surprise, and the hands holding me to him shifted to holding me up. Abruptly he buried himself as far as he could, and within my spasming sex I felt a feeling I'd never experienced before; a man spreading his seed within me.
He'd left me there, sliding down my door and my skirt above my waist. Calling out something he opened Rita's door and disappeared inside. I never saw him again and I never knew his name.
My anger at my boyfriend didn't fade, but I never confronted Rita, avoiding her whenever I could.
Now I was halfway inside her room, a man who must be her latest boyfriend holding me up as a man I didn't know fucked me in his arms. With the same predatorial eyes as his predecessor our eyes locked, my own asking him to do something. Anything. |