The cool night air hits my face as I stumble out of the building, heart still hammering from Jenn’s naked curves and that damn phone ring. Marion’s call killed it. Fuck. I pace the street, cock throbbing in my jeans, mind replaying her heavy tits in the mirror. Can’t go far. Need to cool off. Head back inside after five minutes, stairs creaking under my sneakers.
Hallway light flickers dimly. Shadows dance from under doors. Everyone’s asleep, or so I think. As I reach my floor, a door cracks open two units down—Alicia’s. That curious girl Carla texted about. She’s in a thin tank top, no bra, nipples poking through like invitations. Short shorts hug her ass. Hair messy, eyes wide. “Seb? What’re you doing up?” Her whisper cuts the silence. I freeze. Parquet groans as I step closer.
The Contact
“Couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, voice low. Her gaze drops to my bulge. She bites her lip, steps out, door clicking shut soft. Bare feet pad toward me. Hallway smells like her—vanilla lotion mixed with sleep sweat. “Me neither,” she breathes, close now. Too close. Our eyes lock. Her hand brushes my arm. Electricity. Risk screams in my head: neighbors, thin walls. But fuck it. I grab her waist, pull her against me. She gasps, quiet, hand sliding to my crotch. Hard as rock. Decision made. I back her to her door, kiss her rough, tongues sloppy, wet.
She fumbles keys, door swings in. We tumble inside, not bothering lights. Her room’s pitch black, just streetlight filtering through half-closed blinds. Strips glow on her skin. I shove her against the wall, hands yanking tank up. Small tits, perky, pale. Suck one nipple hard—she whimpers, stifles it with her palm. “Shh,” I growl. “They’ll hear.” Her fingers claw my shirt off, nails scraping. Jeans drop with a zipper rasp too loud. She strokes my cock, pre-cum slicking her palm. “Fuck me quiet,” she whispers, dirty plea.
The Indiscretion
I spin her, bend her over dresser. Mirror reflects her face—eyes wild, mouth open. Shorts ripped down, thong aside. Her pussy’s shaved, lips puffy, already wet. I spit on my hand, rub her clit. She bucks, thigh quivers. “Now,” she hisses. Thrust in raw—no condom, balls deep. Tight, hot, gripping. She bites her arm to muffle moan. Plap-plap of skin, wet slaps echo soft. Parquet creaks under us. I cover her mouth, pound harder. Her ass jiggles, sweat beads. “Gonna cum,” I grunt low. She nods frantic, pussy clenches. I pull out, shoot ropes on her back—thick, hot spurts. She shudders, fingers her clit to orgasm, silent scream into my hand.
We pant, sticky. She wipes with a tissue, quick. No words. Pull clothes on fast. Heart slams chest—did anyone hear? Light under neighbor’s door? No flicker. She peeks hall, nods clear. I slip out first, stairs down quiet, cock softening, cum drying on my tip. Cross old guy in lobby—Mr. Peters, night owl. He grunts hello, eyes squint. Did he hear? Fuck. Back to my door, key shakes in lock. Inside, collapse on bed. Secret burns sweet. Jenn asleep? Doesn’t matter. Hallway heat lingers—risk, drip, thrill. Neighborhood sleeps oblivious.