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The Apartment
The Apartment There was no other name for it. It was called "the Apartment", only known to the select few who were deemed trustworthy. As luck would have it, the apartment was located a few minutes from my place of work downtown. It was a brief period of time -- maybe three years all told -- when I had access to the apartment before it disappeared. The rumor was that a couple who commuted to downtown by ferry initially rented the place so they would have a place to stay if they worked late or needed to be ready early in the morning. I never met them. They had delegated out the day-to-day management to a woman who tracked the details, changed out keys when the apartment was being miss used and set up the calendar. The only thing that was missing was an elevator. The apartment was on the top floor. I think it was the fifth floor though it felt like the fifteen by the time one made it up all the stairs. I made arrangements to meet J there. J was a lover I met here on MenNation.com soon after I moved to Washington. She was married but bored. She had the quality that leapt off the page when I saw her profile. It was a certain combination of realness and playfulness. She was clear about what she wanted and unshy about getting her needs met. We were lovers and friends who chatted between meet-ups. She told me about other men who were courting her. She knew that I loved to hear the details. I didn't even know the term cuck at the time but that certainly describes an aspect of me. She picked me up from my office in the early afternoon. I knew had had three hours when I would not be missed and often worked late to meet my deadlines anyways. I got in the car and we headed off together. She handed me her phone and encouraged me to look at the messages in her MenNation.com profile. The messages themselves left a lot to be desired, the typical dreck of men assaulting her inbox for her attention (and a valuable lesson in what MenNation.com looks like from the female side). But what turned me on was her openness and trust in me as a friend. It was the way she knew me and was willing to indulge a side of me that rarely gets seen or acknowledged. That part felt real and delicious. Parking was a never easy near the apartment but persistence was rewarded. We walked together up to the front door. I used the key code and key entrusted to me by the apartment manager. And then we walked hand in hand to the stairs. My lover was wearing a knee-length summer dress and wedge heels. She had pretty manicured toes. I was never a full foot fetish man but heels always draw my full attention. We started up the stairs. She led the way, two steps above me. There was a sway to her hips that was impossible to ignore. I loved the shape of her hips and the way her heels elevated her calves. We made our way up with that mix of enjoying the moment but the impatience of needing to be intwined in one another without further delay. And finally we were at the door. I unlocked it and led her inside. Door locked, we made our way to the bed. And this is the part that is seared most clearly into memory. J slid her dress over her head and laid back on the bed. I already knew that what she craved most was a man who would take care of her from head to toe. A man who would take his time with her body and her pleasure. We kissed. It was that good feeling of a familiar kiss of a lover who you know well. The welcoming back into her inner sanctum. I ran my hands over the smooth soft skin of her shoulders and chest. I paused to appreciate the sensitive areas around her areaolas and breasts. Her breathing changed and her legs parted. She was impatient now and her hands guided my tongue over the beautiful nerve endings below her bellybutton to her waiting pussy. I kissed her there. I kissed her the way I would kiss a lover who just arrived at shore from a long journey at sea. I kissed her clit without a hesitation and with full adoration. I tasted her on my lips. I felt her wetness on my chin. I ducked my head so that the tip of my nose made circles around her swollen clit with enough pressure for her to feel the intense closeness of my skin pressed against her body. She was so open. I make no secret of my desire to be let in. Let into my lover's mind, into her fantasies and desires, and into her body. And here, there was no need for metaphor. She was opening the center of her sex and pleasure for me to dive in with all the pent up lust and desire from weeks of flirting text messages. I wanted to feel the feedback of her pleasure against my tongue. I dipped down run my tongue over all the neglected areas of her thighs. My fingers slid into her and found familiar places -- places with a name or precise location. They are the places where I can feel the electricity of our connection. Where the tips of my fingers buzz and I can feel her hips squirm in reaction. Places that feel so infinitely good that they call to me. My fingers were finding those beautiful places and my tongue wanted to take care of her completely. I circled my tongue over her ass. In the past that was a step too far for me. I couldn't conceive of it. But in that moment it was so obvious that in needed to happen. Her body was vibrating. I couldn't deprive a million nerve endings of the pleasure they were due. No words were spoken. just a seamless giving and receiving of pleasure. Her hips bucked against my hand. If settled into a rhythm and only deviated from it enough to make sure it was not entirely predictable. But it was a reliable pleasure that she could depend on as her pleasure built. I was hungry for everything building in her body. I felt the pleasure of giving. I appreciated the feedback of her breath and the way her hands were still as let the pleasure wash through her body. She came beautifully with the trembles and jolts of pleasure that are past the point of knowing and controlling. She clenched around my fingers and I stayed pressed up against her, a solid presence as she found her release. The rest of the afternoon is now a blur to me. Mental snapshots of moments that might be confused with a different day or time. But there was something so pure about the moments captured in the story. I am unlikely to ever stop reliving it in my head. |
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Loved this...glad others are finding this too! ~~~" Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift." --Mary Oliver~~~
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