Page 28 of Christmas Candy

Michael

Ishouldn’t have. I knew it, but when I’d felt her eyes on me that afternoon, I couldn’t take anymore. I’d approached her. Finally. I asked her name. I already knew it – Jess Shakoor. I asked her about her classes. I already knew about those, too. There was very little I hadn’t been able to learn about my shy neighbor. She was my obsession. I’d taken more photos of her in the past months than I had of actual models at my shoots.

I ran a hand over my face as I sat in the chair near my door and waited for her to return that night. It was late for her, though not for me, when near-silent footsteps sounded in the hallway. She was being quiet, but I heard her key in the lock.

I rose quietly and watched her ease inside her apartment. She dressed demurely in baggy t-shirts and ill-fitting jeans. But I knew what was underneath. Her plump ass haunted my fantasies and her large, round tits were made for my palms.

I couldn’t help the smirk that turned the corner of my mouth. She thought she was slick, thought I didn’t see her watching me for the past few months. Of course I knew. What she didn’t know was that I was watching her, too. I knew where she was from, who her parents were, what she was studying, and that she’d been accepted to law school. I knew everything, except the one thing that I wanted most.

I wanted to know what she tasted like.

My cock hardened at the thought of finally getting a little bite of Jess. I opened my door and went to hers. There was no plan. I was going to knock, introduce myself a bit more cordially and then …What? What would I do?I wanted to barge in, throw her on the bed, and fuck her. But that was frowned upon, generally speaking.

I looked down and realized I wasn’t wearing a shirt, just some gym shorts. I couldn’t knock on her door like this. I was about to take a step back when I heard her voice. Or rather, heard her exhales and a low keening sound. I moved closer, putting my eye to her peephole. There was nothing except some dark strands of hair. She must have been leaning against the door.

The sound came again. This time it was definitely a throaty moan. My cocked kicked to attention as I pressed my ear to the door. It was as if I could feel her heartbeat vibrating through the wood.

“Yes, please.” The lightest whisper from her side.

My palms were hot against her door, and I eyed the handle. Had she locked it?

“But I want him so fucking bad.” Her voice was desperate. And then there was a knocking sound, as if she were hitting the back of her head against the door. “Why are you so hot, Michael? Why?”

That was it. The end for me. I had to have her. There was no turning back.

“Jess?” I asked.

A sharp intake of breath and then silence.

“Jess, let me in.” I was going crazy just imagining her on the other side of the door, her eyes wide, her fear something I could taste.

The lock clicked over.Shit.

I leaned in closer, so I was looking right at her through the peephole. “Jess, I know what you were doing in there. I know you were thinking about me.”

I was so hot and my cock so hard that it was already leaking precum at the thought of getting inside her.

“I was just . . .” Her voice was shaky.

“Were you touching yourself?”

“I . . .”

“Don’t lie, Jess. I’ll know if you do.” I ran my hands up the cool wood, tension in every one of my muscles that demanded I break down the door and take what I wanted.

“Yes.” So soft I almost missed it.

“Then open the door for me. I can make you feel good, Jess. My tongue, my hands, my dick. I’ll make you come as many times as you’ll let me.”

A moan and the same knocking sound came through the wood.

“Just open the door, Jess. I’ll show you.”

“I can’t.” She sounded tormented, as if she’d cry on the last syllable.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve never. I, um, I’ve never done anything like what you just said.”

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