Laura burst through the apartment door. Bags of groceries swung from her hands as she gnashed the st

Laura burst through the apartment door. Bags of groceries swung from her hands as she gnashed the strap of her purse in her teeth, kicking the door closed behind with her heels once she got inside. Safely hidden from the outside world she allowed herself to collapse against the door, resting her aching head against it as she closed her eyes and breathed out the complete and utter bullshit of a usual Monday. Work had been a complete bitch, with every person there seeming to forget how to do their fucking jobs over the weekend and her voicemail jammed with messages. Each one being more annoyingly bitchy than the one before. She kicked her shoes into the corner, hissing through her teeth as her burning feet nestled softly into the carpet. The Louboutins were a gift from her boss, and she was obliged to wear them on occasion but, despite their absolute sexiness, the fucking things hurt like hell by the end of the day. She was glad to finally have the damned things off and spent a few glorious moments wiggling her toes in the carpet. She slid off her jacket, hanging it on a peg by the door, frowning as she discovered yet another stain on the white linen sleeve. The jacket was one of her favorites but seemed to spend more time in the cleaners than in her closet. Examining the stain, Laura thought back trying to remember which of the complete assholes that worked at her office had been drinking coffee within ten feet of her. Whoever it turned out to be was going to have a very painful shoe shoved up their ass come morning. She found herself cursing under her breath, words she didn’t normally think, let alone say. The whole day had just been frustrating. Stupid and long and frustrating. She needed a drink. She needed a shower. hell, she needed to get laid!She dragged the groceries to the kitchen actively not thinking about it. Not thinking about the break-up. Of being alone for the seven months since. Of the half-full pantry where he had kept his cereal and artisanal breads. The half full closets where his suits once hung. The half-full rooms. Her half-full bed. Even the damned refrigerator which stared at her glaringly empty as she slid in what little she needed to keep herself fed for the week. For the fucking life of her she never thought she would miss a gallon of fucking pineapple juice so fucking much. She took a bottle of white wine from the door and slammed the refrigerator door cursing at herself. She had already tossed out all the magnets that had covered the fridge. Ones from Disneyland and the Grand Canyon, from St. Martin and Hawaii. All the places where they had gone, and laughed, and loved, and fucked like porn stars with him threatening to get her pregnant with every heated thrust. The wine bottle was already opened, and she poured herself a glass before heading to the bedroom. Then pouring herself another once she got there. She plopped down on the bed, setting the glass aside long enough to peel her stockings off. Of course, they had ripped down the back, another pair to toss into the garbage from the dozen she had thought might last her at least through the damned month. Laura would kill to go bare just once, but her boss and his ridiculous dress code forbad that idea. He had said it that being fashionably dressed lent an air of refined posh to the place, but she had always suspected that the old pervert just had some kind of stocking fetish going on. She stood up, unzipped her skirt and folded it neatly on the bed, doing the same with her blouse. Then with a sigh of sinful pleasure she reached around to unclasp her bra, letting her breasts fall free of the strangling chambers of straps and wires. She walked over to the mirror clad only in her panties, massaging life back into her breasts, caressing them in her hands, squeezing the pink nipples between her fingers… the way he used to do. Laura was not a fashion model. Her body was all soft curves and delightful suppleness that a man could hold onto and squeeze tight. When she was growing up her dad had once called her ‘sturdy’. The ultimate compliment a life-long farmer could give a girl. Laura’s mother had been ‘sturdy’ too and had also been the complete and only object of her father’s lustful affections. As the existence of her six brothers and sisters would testify. Laura found herself posing in front of the mirror, sliding her hands from her thin waist over her wide, inviting hips and back to cup her ample but firm-as-hell ass. Her breasts were not monstrous, but large enough to gracefully fit her frame. They stood high on her chest, with only the slightest sag; her sensitive nipples standing out just from the briefest grazing of her fingertips. For a moment she thought of going to the drawer and getting out her little friend, all eight solid rubber inches of him. She dropped the idea with a sigh. She was exhausted and miserable and frankly needed more than to waste away the evening in bed accidentally moaning his name. By now the wine bottle was empty and Laura decided that she need to clear her mind. Laura smiled ruefully as she slid her panties off, heading to the shower. She grabbed one of the fluffy burgundy towels she’d bought at an overpriced home store and opened the door to the bathroom. The radio was tuned to a local jazz station and she let the slow, sultry music seep into her. She turned n the water, sliding it all the way to ‘Super-hot’ and stepped under the spray. In her mind, she had all kinds of plans to get herself out of the apartment. To find some handsome guy. To suck and fuck his perfect cock. She was so fucking horny as she placed her hand on the shower door and stepped slowly and carefully inside. There was lots of steam escaping from the shower as she slid the soap all over her body, feeling the warm lather sinking down into all sorts of lovely places.Roman placed his hands on his hips, satisfied that he had finally emptied every box and wayward bag in the apartment. He had rented the place just two weeks ago and had spent every moment of that time alone here painting, moving, stowing, and cleaning every square inch of the place with his meagre belongings. Every shirt and pair of socks was in its correct place and the moving boxes carefully stacked and tied in one corner. Still the place looked depressingly empty. He expected every second to hear his sister-in-law call from the other room, his brother banging away in the basement, their kids running and screaming like maniacs from one end of the house to the other. To them he was Uncle Roman. Babysitter, role-model, the loving uncle that lived in the spare room paying five hundred a month rent and coming home looking like a ghost, covered in plaster dust from his latest job. That changed when his brother had told him about their fourth child being on the way. After that he was Roman, the beloved brother who had to get his ass out of the house before the new kid came along to lay claim to his bedroom.To be truthful both his brother and his family were sorry to see him go, but it was about time he got out of there anyhow. Within a few months he had piled his few things onto a friend’s truck and found himself a not-disgustingly expensive, two-bedroom walkup on the lower east side. All it needed was a decent paintjob, some drywall, and a new kitchen. All he did himself with the blessings of the landlord who did not bother offering to reward his work with a touch off the month’s rent. Whatever. With the last of his socks safely tucked away, Roman was wondering what to do next. That’s when his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten all day long. He cursed under his breath for forgetting item number five hundred on his to-do list. Stock the damned fridge. He had plates, forks, knives, cups, pans, and pots aplenty… but not a scrap of food in the place. Running his hands through his thick black hair he sighed and thought to himself that it was about time he met his neighbors anyhow. He brushed his jeans, sliding on a clean shirt and decided to knock on the neighbor’s door. He wasn’t sure what to expect but hoped borrowing a couple of eggs and a stick of butter wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. He checked himself out in the mirror before he left, running a hand over a rough growth of beard. It wasn’t that bad, more manly than sloppy so he decided to go without bothering to shave. Roman locked his door behind him. One could never be too careful in a new location after all and walked across the hall to the only other apartment on the floor. Part of him hoped it would be a kindly old widow that just happened to have an entire roast turkey in the stove for no apparent reason. On the other hand, it could also be some crazy cat-lady with a shotgun and poor eyesight. He knocked on the blaringly white door of 2B with a solid but neighborly fist hoping for the best. The door slid open before him, obviously unlocked. He stood there a moment with his fist held in the air, his eyebrows knit in worried curiosity. How many episodes of CSI had he seen that started just this way? The apartment beyond the doorway belonged to a woman. At least that was one thing he could be sure of. A pair of heels lay scattered in the foyer and the place had the scent of lavender about it. The type that came from one of those expensive-as-shit candles that no man would be caught dead buying. He called out, hoping to get some sort of response. Nothing. Just an empty apartment and the low hum of a refrigerator. He stepped inside placing one foot carefully past the threshold, preparing himself for an irate and territorial boyfriend or husband to come bounding fist-first around a corner or from behind the ungodly pink couch. Once again, nothing. Getting bolder he walked into the apartment, for some reason closing the door behind him. That’s what you do with open doors, after all. Bending his ears, feeling like some sort of cat-burglar, he heard the shower running, a woman’s voice coming from the bathroom singing along to a scratchy radio station. Curiosity getting the better of him, he figured, what the hell, it was as good a way to meet a new neighbor as any. He walked in through the bedroom noticing the clothes scattered across the bed. Skirt, blouse, bra… panties. Feeling rather bold he decided, what the fuck, and slid quietly into the bathroom for a look.Laura slid her hands through her hair, squeezing the shampoo from her long red locks as she raised her face up into the spray. The station was playing her favorite tracks, all Whitney Houston and Toni Braxton hits that she knew every word of. She was almost done with her shower and her body shone with a clean, healthy glow. All thoughts of her previous misery had been washed away along with her exhaustion. The steam opened her senses, the heat relaxing her, as she sang along to the music. She felt alive again and ready for a Friday night that didn’t just amount to a microwaved dinner and another lame episode of Housewives. She was still deciding what to do, who to call, where to go when she heard the shower door open. He was tall, dark, and handsome. A cliché, yes, but the description suited him well. He was indeed tall, although Laura was only about 5'1" so most everyone was tall to her. He had serious-looking, blue eyes as well. The type that pierced a woman to her core. Either way, he was hot as hell, totally her type, and she melted a little as she watched him slide silently through the steamy fog and into the shower with her. She should have screamed, or yelled, or… whatever, but she didn’t. Instead her eyes simply fell down across his hairy muscled chest, down his solid abs to rest on a hardened cock that put her happy little toy simply to shame. “You should get out,” Laura managed to whisper to the absolute stranger that had invaded her shower. Perhaps it was the bottle of wine, or the sensuous fright of the moment, or the delicious feeling of the hot water making its way between her cleavage down between her thighs to caress her lips that was getting her… uncomfortable. Perhaps the heat was getting to her. He stood there, just stood there, like some marble statue in the shape of a god. Waiting. Just waiting. Without reason she found herself reaching her hand out to touch his cock. Her hand wrapped around his thickness and she almost swooned to how good it felt to her touch. Suddenly she wanted it inside of her. It had been months since she had felt a man and Laura could only blame her own horniness for what happened next. She looked up into his face, half hidden by the steamy rush of the shower, his piercing blue eyes pinning her in place with their ferocity. “Stroke my cock.” the said, his voice deep and rich, soft yet commanding. Melting like dark chocolate sex over her ears. Laura looked up into his eyes as she began stroking his cock with both hands. His face was fixed into an expression of pleasure that twisted ever so slightly with every move my hand made up and down along his shaft. He let out a slow moan that made her want to stroke him faster. God, it felt so good to have a real cock in her hand again, so long since she had heard a man moan at her touch. It felt so good and yet so wrong. She knew this was insane, a strange man and a strange cock making her feel this way. But she didn’t dare ask any questions. "That feels so fucking good.” His voice dripped with a sexiness she’d never heard before and she found herself welling with pride from his statement. She stroked him faster until he gripped her by the shoulders and roughly pushed her down to her knees. “Suck it for me.” Laura said nothing but obediently wrapped her mouth around his cock and sucked it the best way that she knew how, determined to give him the best blowjob he’d ever had. His was different from her ex’s cock. It was far thicker for one thing and she was having trouble getting it past her throat. It was just too damned big. She tried her best, looking up into his gaze, hoping he could give her some direction. He said nothing but instead pushed his cock further down her throat until she was gasping around the head.“Yessss… That’s what I like. Choke on it for me.” He pushed his cock another inch down her throat and she began choking on it for him. Just as he liked and somehow proud to do it. She let him continue to fuck her mouth even as the warmth in her pussy grew to an ache. Laura needed to be fucked. She needed to cum. Fuck, she knew that it was wrong and that she should have ran out of the shower screaming for help the moment she had seen him. Instead, she felt more alive than she’d felt in months, maybe years, and she couldn’t wait his cock inside of her. Surely the stranger was planning on fucking her. Wasn’t he?“Please. Fuck me,” she begged in a quiet whimper. Laura was shocked at how pathetic and desperate she sounded. She wasn’t a slut. She wasn’t some needy whore. Blame the wine if you wanted to but she was that fucking horny and just didn’t care anymore. She just wanted a cock in her pussy. To cum screaming with a man thrusting between her thighs for all he was worth. Roman sat down on the floor of the shower, pulling her down so that she was straddling him, the steaming water still pouring over their heads. Laura lowered herself down onto his cock slowly and was surprised by how wet she was. Maybe it was Roman’s thick cock or maybe it was the wrongness of the entire situation that was making her pussy so desperately wet. She wasn’t sure. And she didn’t really give a fuck. All she wanted was to fuck his big, beautiful cock until he blew his load. It didn’t take much Laure off; not after she had gone without for so damned long. She was cumming on his dick in less than a minute. The very wrongness of the situation made her scream to shake the walls as she shuddered and shook on his lap, spraying her cunt-juices madly along his shaft. Roman held her steady, burying his fingers into her soft hips as he grunted and clenched his teeth, fighting to hold back his own orgasm. Laura continued bouncing up and down his shaft, writhing and moaning as the steam thickened around them until she could barely see his face. It didn’t matter. She didn’t even want to see his face. All she just wanted was his thrusting cock pounding bare into the depths of her cunt threatening to blast a load of deadly male seed into her womb.“Turn around.” Roman cried “Yeah, just like that. Now fuck me! Fuck the shit out of me!” as Laura obediently turned so she was riding his lap facing him. She gripped his wide shoulder in her hands as he grabbed her tits, forcing wails of blessed agony out of her lungs as his starving mouth found her over-sensitive berry-ripe nipples. “Fuck, yessssss!” she wailed as she began to ride his cock. In this position, his cock hit was hitting even better spots. Laura screamed loudly as she came this again and collapsed weakly against the side of the tub. Roman’s hand reached down to her clit and began to stroke it as he continued thrusting up into her with long, deep strokes. He pressed his thumb into her clit and began to rub hard and fast. A slow warmth of pleasure began to rise slowly inside of her, building as her breathing grew into quick, heavy pants. Laura let out a few loud moans and then a series of wild screams as her pussy spasmed all over his cock. “Fuck! I’m about to cum! You’re making me fucking cum!”, he roared as his own body tensed then grew rigid under her. Laura tried to get up and off of his cock in time, but she didn’t quite make it. Most of his load had driven up inside of her, filling her with his blessed warmth, more blasted up her belly to splatter in thick streams of white across her shuddering breasts. When she had caught her breath, she reached out and turned off the shower. "I think… do… do you have to go now?”Roman opened the sliding door to the shower, grabbing one of the thick burgundy towels and began to dry himself. “Not if you don’t want me to.” Laura hesitated, accepting a towel from him and grateful to have his help getting off the floor of the tub. She was still woozy from her last orgasm and staring in mute wonder at the heavy streaks of white ball-seed that was still dripping from her breasts. “So… why are you in my shower, anyway?”“I just moved in next door,” he said. “I just came over to see if you had some food to share since I forgot to go shopping and your door was open.” “Yeah, you always fuck the hell out of women whose doors are open?”"Only the insanely sexy ones. Like you.” he shot back, wrapping the towel around her and drying her back and shoulders as she stood there shivering naked in front of him. "Okay. Well, thank God for that!” she laughed. “I’d hate to think you’d fuck just anyone after all.”"Like I said, just the sexy ones.” Roman chuckled. "Yeah, well I guess I’ll just have to keep taking showers with my door wide open if you’re going to keep fucking, huh? And making sure the fridge is Full?” Laura’s eyes were full of mischief and she hoped he knew that she was mostly kidding. Well, mostly. "Not really”, he replied with a warm but still smarmy smirk on his gorgeous face, “We could do it on your bed too. Bet you’d look incredible, laying there waiting for me with that smile on your face.” Laura was blushing head to toe now, his arms wrapped around her with the towel, his warm body pressing against her back as his hot breath slid sensuously along her ear, “Well… I mean we could… but…” “Want to?” Roman teased, his lips brushing along her offered neck. “Wait. You mean right now? Didn’t you just cum?” “Yes, but can I help it if you’re making me horny again.”“Wow. Mike… I mean my ex wasn’t like that. But we broke up months and months ago. Don’t… I mean…’ Laura stuttered, starting to panic over the mention of her boyfriend. Her ex-boyfriend."Shhh, don’t worry. And it’s his own fault for not seeing how fucking sexy you are,” Roman shrugged off his towel, revealing his renewed hard-on as he led her into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. Laura still couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. It was so much smoother and wider than her ex’s. Without hesitating she dropped to her knees between his legs and attempted to take his cock deep down her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her skull with the first taste of his precum. A slow moan escaped her lips. Her mouth was so full of his cock and her pussy was so full of pent-up longing. By the time his cock was thrusting inside of her again she was already trembling from pleasure. She could barely hold herself together as he brutally slammed his cock into her from behind as she bent over the shaking bed. Laura was still hot and steamy, dripping with pussy juices and sweat as he hammered her into another orgasm… and then another. This was the best sex of her whole damned life and she didn’t bother uttering a word as he at long last gripped her hips tight and slammed his meat in as deeply as he could, the tip of his cock erupting in a spine-twisting surge of hot man-cum. The next morning Laura pulled out all the stops, cooking him the biggest breakfast he ever saw. Something about sex with him had breathed new life into her. She was hornier than ever before for one thing and every bit of that horniness was spent keeping him happy, hard, and in her pussy the whole weekend. She even had a better attitude towards work on Monday, something everyone at the office instantly noticed.“You are so bright and cheerful today,” her boss mentioned as they broke for an afternoon coffee, “What’s changed? Pilates? Zumba? You just seem so full of energy this morning.” “Nothing’s changed. Must be my bio-rhythms or something. Chinese New Year, maybe.” Laura shrugged, hiding her smile in the overpriced cup of watery cappuccino.“Well, whatever you are doing, keep doing it. I like you like this.” He grimaced, glancing at his watch, “I have to go to upstairs for a meeting now. I’ll see you later on to discuss next week’s training schedule, right?”"Right. Have a nice meeting!” she called out to him as she watched him walk to the elevator. Her phone buzzed I immediately as a text came through.*Tonight?**Yes.* she typed back, biting her lip and hoping no one was around to notice her blushing. God, it was only one damned word from him, and she was already getting moist. *Hope you are hungry.**For you, always.* -- source link

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