Elizabeth gazed out over the blue waters of the bay. Ships and boats dotted a scene framed by snow-capped mountains rising up from the far shore. Her luxurious apartment was one floor below the Penthouse suite on the 24th floor of a high-end downtown hotel apartment complex. It was decorated in the traditional style with wallpaper, pastel colours, indirect lighting and elegant wood trim. Security was excellent with private elevator access to her floor.
She enjoyed standing alone on her outside deck on nights such as this, sipping a glass of red wine while contemplating the turn of events that had resulted in this satisfying lifestyle. Her early years had been much more difficult.
Elizabeth was a widow, Bill her wealthy husband having died three years prior. He had been almost 25 years older than her and a widower with adult children when he asked her to marry him. At the time, she and several other college girls had formed a call girl ring to finance their education. They had been smart as well as beautiful, operating through discreet connections to corporations seeking female companions for visiting business clients.
Bill had been one of these clients and after one afternoon in bed with her became totally smitten. He pursued her for several months before Elizabeth accepted his proposal of marriage at age 22. Bill’s children had been less than enthusiastic about their father marrying a much younger woman and were not shy in showing their resentment. As the year’s passed however they had grown to appreciate her as she cared for their father through a lingering illness that ultimately culminated in his death. His estate had been divided amongst his children but they had readily accepted his provision awarding Elizabeth the apartment along with a generous guaranteed income for life. The apartment alone was worth millions, but she could not imagine ever selling it.
Bill had provided Elizabeth with the most stable part of her life going back to her childhood. She had been raised in a broken home in a very poor part of a small town and only her physical beauty and mental toughness had allowed her to emerge in her early twenties as a confident woman. She had used her body and natural enjoyment of sex to make her way in life and had been fortunate to survive unscathed through that uncertain journey.
Following the death of her husband she had, at age 50, resumed her interest in sex but only at her pleasure and choice. She had always been careful of diet and exercise and continued to be recognized as a very beautiful woman. She was a head turner in any public appearance.
She had an eclectic preference in lovers, was always discreet but cared little if her friends or acquaintances became aware of them. She did not view her occasional affairs as a means to find another husband, but simply for the pleasure and affection provided by short-term intimate contact. It had been several weeks since she had last enjoyed the company of a lover, and she was getting restless as she relived her last encounter.
He was a tall and thin Jamaican, a piano player and crooner who performed nightly at one of her favourite restaurants. He appeared to be in his mid thirties, one of Elizabeth’s preferred ages for lovers. She particularly enjoyed his version of many of the soft ballads of Nat King Cole. She had been in the company of other people on each occasion but locked eyes with him often as she danced with one or the other of her companions. They smiled each time that she had turned to face him and she could sense his eyes on her body when she turned away. She knew that he desired her as she had grown to desire him.
She dined alone one night. He recognized her immediately and was turned in her direction for the entire evening. She wrote a note requesting a song, and included her cell phone number. He looked her way after he received the note from her waiter, kissed it and placed it in his vest pocket. He sang the ballad she had requested, ‘The very thought of you’. Their eyes never wavered as he sang and Elizabeth’s loins weakened imagining him between her legs.
He had barely left the stage for his next break when her cell phone trembled in her purse. His lilting voice purred, “Can we meet soon?”
Elizabeth replied, “I’d like that, are you free after your show.”
He replied, “Oh yeah, when and where?”
She said, “Grosvenor Apartments, private entrance, exactly at 11, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”
He replied, “Perfect, will be there. My name is Derek, and you?”
“Call me Liz.”
A pause and then, as if making sure that he fully understood her intentions, “Liz, I’m hard already.”
Her simple reply, “Good.”
Elizabeth was waiting in the entrance lobby as he emerged from a cab. She buzzed him in and they entered the elevator without a word. She positioned him in a corner, and pointed directly up at a camera over his head in warning. They chatted about the weather and other irrelevant manners as the elevator carried them to Elizabeth’s floor.
They remained calm as they entered her apartment, Elizabeth suggesting kuşadası escort that he wait on the outside deck as she moved to make drinks and select some music. He was peering out over the water as she returned to hand him a martini. They toasted each other, standing close with eyes locked.
He was very tall, lithe more than thin, his movements as smooth as were his renditions of Nat King Cole. Elizabeth moved in closer until her breasts and hips brushed against him. He bent and kissed her softly, their tongue tips touching in exploration. She pulled back a little and said, “Hold that thought, will be back in a minute.” She kissed him again and floated off to her bedroom. She was certain now.
Elizabeth returned to find him waiting expectantly, watching her as she glided towards him clad in a sheer negligee that highlighted the fact that she was not wearing bra or panties. He drank in the sight of her breasts swaying as she moved, the brown nipples erect and visible through the thin cloth. Ah God, her pussy was shaved, how hot can it get?
She moved in tight against him with her head tilted up, her lips anxious to taste his.
His hands went down her back to cup her cheeks as she sucked his long tongue. He whispered, “Hi Liz,” as they laughed softly, “Pinch me, I can’t believe this is happening. You are so very beautiful. I want to make love to you.”
She hungrily sought his mouth once more with her tongue tip tracing the outlines of her parted lips, rubbing her breasts and hips on his. She pressed her mound hard against his erect cock and whispered, “You are certainly hard now.”
The sex had been great, even perfect. He was a patient lover, taking his time and making sure that she was ready for each next move. While Elizabeth preferred choosing whom, when and where, she expected that once sex was initiated that her lover would take charge. It worked perfectly on this occasion. Derek’s fingers played her body like they played the piano, smooth and flowing, touching and caressing as he relieved her of the negligee. She surrendered her mind and body to his relentless ministrations.
Her eyes closed now as she relived that first feel of his cock slipping between her legs as they stood naked beside her bed. Long and thick, the hot hard shaft pressed upward on her slit. She recalled the feel of the knob jutting out between her cheeks behind. His kisses and hot hands described his mounting passion as Elizabeth slipped her pussy lips back and forth along the hot smooth shaft while grinding her tits and belly against him. She was nervous about her capacity to take his cock, its size being a definite challenge, but she was desperate to feel it inside her.
Derek could sense her concern. He had been down this road before with uncertain ladies and took his time preparing her, going down on her first, nuzzling and licking and sucking on her pussy. He mounted her and positioned his knob to rub her slit. Elizabeth grasped the shaft and rubbed her pussy lips on the knob as he applied pressure to enter her, working it into her in short jabs. Her hands circled his back and she dug her fingernails into his butt as she pulled him in. He was up on extended arms watching her reactions as he slow fucked her with about half his cock. She groaned softly as he slipped further inside of her. He sucked in his breath as her vagina relaxed completely and the tiny hot tongues of her folds lapped his probing shaft.
He slowly pulled his cock out accompanied by Elizabeth’s complaint, “What, what, why stop now?”
He whispered, “I love the taste of a half fucked pussy baby, and I am dying to taste yours, you’ll love it.”
Despite her protests he went down on her again and ran his tongue the full length of her slit. She pulled his head against her to rub her pussy on his mouth and face. She was ready to get off to the same degree that she had wanted him to leave his cock in her.
Once more he changed pace to lift off of her before nestling between her legs on his knees. She frantically raised her pussy upwards to meet his cock. There was less resistance to his entry and he was soon fully inside of her. He began to screw her with his full cock. His body was a steam engine, with arms, legs, hips and hands combining to drive his cock in and out of her pussy, using long slow strokes at first, increasing in speed and power as he hunched down over her, doing chin-ups on her body as his butt rose higher and higher only to thrust more quickly into her pussy with each stroke.
Elizabeth began to lose control as he pounded her, first arching her back to meet his thrusts then stretching her legs high above him as their bellies slapped together. She cried out in delicious agony as her body convulsed and jerked before merging into a mindless orgasm. He paused, still buried deep inside of her, allowing her to freely enjoy the release of her pent up sexual tension, as she clenched and twisted and vibrated around his steel like shaft.
“My turn baby, going to fuck that tight pussy of yours, got a big load for you baby, going to bury it deep.” Only then did he take his own pleasure, rubbing his cock side to side, top to bottom as he screwed her without stop. He used an arm to lift one of her legs up beside her body as he released several belts of hot cum. Elizabeth followed quickly with a second less intense orgasm.
Derek had been insatiable and she ignored her own rule that a first time lover could not stay the night with her. He treated her with reverence, never really stopping his seduction efforts, fondling and kissing and screwing her relentlessly.
Finally, and totally exhausted, she had given him a hand-supported blowjob in the shower at about 5 am and sent him on his way.
As he departed they kissed and he said “will call you soon.”
Elizabeth smiled her goodbye but as soon as he was gone, picked up her cell phone and blocked his number. More erotic nights like that could complicate her life.
During Elizabeth’s reverie, Marty the maintenance man was twenty floors below in his basement apartment. One could say that he enjoyed a much lower elevation in society as well, but Marty would disagree. He was 35 years old and had lived a life the reverse of Elizabeth’s. Born to wealthy parents he had been provided every opportunity; cars, sun vacations, golf and yacht club memberships along with a University education, cut short when he quit to join the armed forces. Quitting his education was both a claim of independence from his parents and a desire to do something exciting and dangerous.
He had excelled in the service, volunteered for and served in the Special Forces while seeing action in the Middle East. Slated for officer training, he had resigned at the end of his five-year term and decided that his niche in life was to fix things for people and to be a handyman of some sort.
He had enjoyed taking things apart and putting them back together since being a child. It was his way of understanding how things worked. He became expert in a variety of repairs and inadvertently stumbled into his current job in building maintenance. He was very good at the work although certainly capable of much more in life and he knew that at some point in time another experience would beckon him. One can think that way with wealthy parents. He was the only one of the maintenance crew to live in the building and was often called for overtime work while off shift.
His time in Special Forces had turned him into a fitness freak, his body a compact rubber band of sinew and bone. He worked out in a nearby gym and ran miles after each shift. The rest of his time was spent indoors working, reading or studying. He was insatiable in his search for knowledge.
Everything else that he needed or desired was right there in the building including sex. Marty had never sought a permanent relationship with a woman, had never enjoyed more than a ‘friends with benefits’ affair let alone considered marriage. But he did enjoy sex with a willing woman and seldom turned down an opportunity to partake.
The building had almost one hundred suites and apartments to keep in order, with one service man on call throughout the 24 hours. His boss Ed supervised Marty and his three partners who rotated through shift work and time off. Ed personally took care of the most exclusive apartments on the top three floors and it was only when Ed was not available that Marty or his mates were called to service the ‘elite class’.
Most apartments were owned or rented by married couples while widowed or divorced ladies lived alone in about thirty units. For the most part these ladies were of mature age ranging from thirty through seventy. Many of them were sexually active and Marty tended to react positively if one showed erotic interest in him. The only determining factor in his selection of a partner for sex was the level of desire he sensed coming his way. He was very discreet and timed his sexual encounters for quiet times.
He ruled out dallying with any of the married gals. Nothing noble about his preferences in that regard, he just did not wish to become involved in messy situations and discouraged, or better said, did not respond to, advances made by attached ladies.
That was until the previous week. Mary was a young married gal about 22 years old whose older husband had parked her in an apartment shortly after marriage and departed on a foreign assignment. She had been in the building for about a year. She appeared to be both shy and erotically interested in Marty, an interest that Marty did not encourage.
Well admittedly, he did not attempt to discourage it either and made no attempt to hide his appreciation of her soft round body, Bambi-like eyes and pouting lips. She was a strawberry blond with freckles, burgeoning boobs, round hips and ass covered by silky marsh mellow skin. Her scent lingered with him for hours after a service call. He maintained his control however while religiously responding to her every request for help. This poor young woman apparently aching for sex was very pleasant to look at.
Mary’s calls for assistance usually occurred at the end of Marty’s shift, the intent being to catch him with some time to dally with her. The calls involved problems with the Internet or her computer. This was a grey area in regard to the responsibilities of building management. As the calls for assistance continued unabated, Shelly the building manager told Marty that he did not have to respond unless it involved the Internet service provided by the building. Marty’s response was that the only way he could determine that was to go and check.
Last week’s call came once again at the end of his shift and once more was an apparent Internet problem. Marty had been without sex for over a week and was horny, but not really expecting any action with Mary other than a lingering gawk at her body combined with an intense desire to throw her in bed.
He almost stumbled into the room as Mary opened the door in response to his knock. She was dressed in a skimpy halter-top, jean shorts cut just below the ass, and bare feet. She looked like Daisy Mae from Lil Abner. Her normally shy greeting had been replaced by a bold and inviting leer as she stood there holding the door.
Marty regained control of his faculties, “Hi Mrs Short, trouble with the Internet again?” He moved past her sideways not daring to brush against any part of her.
“For God’s sake Marty, call me Mary, we’ve known each other long enough.” She provocatively placed one hand on his arm knowing that she was making an impression on him. He could barely pull his eyes from her tits. “And yes, more trouble, but all I know is that I cannot get online.”
Marty caught a glimpse of her ass, barely covered by the frayed edges of her jean shorts, as she turned away to shut the door. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘be strong Marty’. He was just as captivated as she turned to face him with the sight of her bare white belly; pink halter-top struggling to contain her freckled boobs, bare shoulders, delicate neck, rosebud lips and pale blue eyes.
He took a deep breath and said; “Better get right to it, end of shift is near,” and turned to enter the bedroom. She followed him as he moved to a small office set-up in one corner of the room. He could smell her scent.
He knelt to check the connections under the desk, pulled the swivel chair out and sat down and started the computer. Mary moved closer behind him, her hand resting on the back of the chair, her breath wafting over his ears and the back of his neck.
Marty’s preference for not engaging married gals was evaporating and he maintained his control by the slimmest of margins. He subtly shifted the knob of his erection up under his belt so as not to advertise where his thoughts lay. It was not subtle enough as Mary caught the move and bit her lip.
Problem resolution did not get any easier as Mary, emboldened now, moved her hand from the back of the chair to his shoulder, then down his arm to softly caress his bicep and back up to his neck. “Mary”, he turned his head to look up at her.
Mary no longer appeared as a shy young woman simply seeking affection or human contact. Her eyes were dull and lusty, her tongue tip tracing the outline of her pink lips, and her free hand casually caressing one boob. Her entire demeanour shouted, ‘Fuck me please’.
It was game over for Marty, one thought only now as he rotated around slowly, one knee spreading Mary’s legs as she moved towards him. Marty lifted one beautiful freckled tit out of the cup and kissed then sucked the nipple. Mary quickly freed the tie on the halter-top and both tits tumbled out to rub on his face and active tongue.
Marty released a nipple from his lips and groaned, “Been dreaming of these Mary, been dying to suck them.”
“You could have had them for months now Marty, why wait so long? Oh God, suck them hard.”
Marty fumbled with the button on her jean shorts, freeing it and sliding his hands in under the waist band and around behind to cup her soft silky ass cheeks. More groans from both of them as she moved back to allow him to force the shorts down around her hips and cheeks to the floor.
“Naughty lady, no panties, you were waiting for this weren’t you?” His hands worked up along the back of her legs to her ass, cupping her cheeks, caressing that erotic crease between her cheeks and legs. He could smell the musky scent of an aroused pussy as he kissed and licked her belly and hips.
“Took them off just before you got here. Left them on the floor beside the door for you to see. Guess you missed them.” Mary bent down for a wild wet tongue swirling kiss as he moved one hand around to her belly.
“Want to see you,” Marty ordered as he pushed her back a little and dropped his eyes down from her tits to a rust coloured trimmed bush. “Watch my fingers Mary,” who spread wider as he slipped two fingers between her legs, one each side of her swollen pussy lips. “Look at me Mary.” Her opaque eyes captured his as she felt him move one finger along the length of her slit, lowering her hips just a little in invitation. He hooked the finger into her pussy hole and moved it gently in and out as Mary’s knees weakened and bent. She lifted a breast to his mouth as he clasped the heel of his hand down hard on her mound and finger fucked her with two fingers.
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