Wednesday afternoon. April. Light traffic means I get home early. Our apartment hallway smells of fresh laundry. Footsteps echo. Soft creak of parquet. I turn the corner. There she is. Angélique Denglin. My neighbor from 3B. That black dress hugs her. Square décolleté plunges deep. Short red hair catches hallway light. filtering under doors. She fumbles keys. Recognizes me instantly. From audits years ago. Stagiaire blondie. Then newlywed. Now divorced bombshell.
“Monsieur Carlier?” Her voice husky. Eyes blue-green. Lips pink. We chat. Past dinners. My advice on bad marriages. She kept maiden name. Invites me in. “Quick coffee? Papers to review.” Her home office setup. Works freelance HR now. I cross threshold. Door clicks shut. Heart quickens. Thin walls. Neighbors napping. Risk already.
The Contact
Inside. Desk cluttered. She sits. Dress rides up. Legs sheathed in dark bands. Stockings? I stare. Cleavage taunts. Two swells held by black lace. We talk procedures. Like old audits. But here. Her place. Next door to mine. Parquet groans under chair. Light slits through blinds. Shadows dance on skin.
She leans. Points at doc. Décolleté gapes. Pear-shaped tits. Slightly pendulous. Nipple edge peeks. Rosy areola granule. Perfume hits. Musky. I stand. “Water?” Kitchen run. Cool air. Cravat straightens. Back. She rises for book. Ass rounds out. Dress hikes. Garters flash. Thighs gripped. Ondulates back. Fragrance wave. Sits. Half-view better.
Procedure three. Bullshit. She bends over desk. Right tit squashes wood. Left spills free. Almost. 50 cm from nose. Flesh bulges. Lace strains. Areola fully out. Nipple dark nub. Hardens. Finger points paper. I ignore. Crack.
The Indiscretion
Lips crash. Soft first. No pushback. Fever. Tongues tangle. Hands in her hair. Mouth to neck. Dive cleavage. Taste salt. She moans. Muffled. “Shh.” Walls paper-thin. Neighbors home. She pulls shirt. Nails rake chest. Belt unbuckles. Zipper rasps. Quiet. Her hand grips cock. Strokes hard. “Fuck me.” Whisper.
Desk clears. Papers scatter. She hikes dress. Black thong soaked. Rip side. No time. Legs spread. Stockings taut. I thrust. Wet heat engulfs. Grunts stifled. Hips slam. Desk creaks loud. Parquet squeals. Her tits bounce. Nipples graze chest. Bite one. She gasps. Hand over mouth. “Quieter!” Eyes wild. Fear thrill. Blinds rattle. Shadow outside? Door light flickers. Someone passes?
Pound harder. Balls slap. Juices squelch. Dirty wet sounds. She claws back. Arches. Cums first. Body shakes. Bites lip bloody. I pull. Hose tits. Cum ropes lace. Drips. She smears. Licks finger. Wicked grin. “Took long enough.”
Breath ragged. Fix clothes. Kiss soft. Door opens slow. Hall empty? No. Old lady downstairs. Nods. Heart hammers. Stairs creak under feet. Key in lock. Inside. Alone. Secret burns. Replay every thrust. Neighbors oblivious. For now.