Chapter 2
It was quite a chore looking for an apartment in Manhattan on my return from California. I was actually looking for more than six weeks and when I finally found an apartment it was only through a fluke. That's the way these things happen in New York.
I had answered an ad in the newspaper for an apartment on West 56th Street. When I got to the apartment, it was a very nice studio with a sleeping alcove and a cheerful kitchen.
However, the apartment was in the front of the building and it was directly across the street from a very noisy construction sight.
Despite this, I reasoned that New Yorkers do not move often and I was looking for a place that I could move into and stay in for a long, long time.
"Do you know how much longer they are going to be building that place across the street?" I asked the super who was showing me the apartment.
"Years!" the man answered in a clipped tone as he seemed bored by the whole thing.
Even though it would have been dreadful to live there with the noise of the construction right across the street, I was seriously tempted to take the apartment.
After looking for an apartment for a month and a half a conveniently located apartment in the west 50's of Manhattan for only three-hundred and twenty dollars sounded too good to pass up.
But, I told the super that I would have to take a walk around the block to see the neighborhood first. It was not as lovely a neighborhood as the upper west side where I really wanted to move. But it had the advantage of being near everything in the city.
As I walked down Ninth Avenue, I noticed a charming little restaurant that served French food and another restaurant that served health food. There was a place with a wood-like exterior on the block what was called Bobby Ray's. I wondered what sort of establishment that was. The block was really nicer than I had expected.
The thing was, it was one of those areas that was just slightly out of the way. Anyone who was going anywhere would usually walk along Eighth or Seventh Avenue or would use Broadway. This was just one block further to the west and it was a block I had never even been on in my life. But there was an undeniable charm.
That charm was actually tempting me to take the inadequate apartment. But then as I rounded the next corner and walked past a few buildings I noticed that there was a sign out in the front of the one of the buildings that said, "2 I/2 rooms".
I knocked on the front door of the building, since I saw a man in work clothes who was in the lobby. "Could I see the apartment?" I called to him.
Opening the door for me, he said, "I'm the handyman. It's 2 I/2 rooms and it's three-hundred and ten."
"Fine!" I said. "I'd like to see the apartment." I was quickly surveying the lobby and noticing the fact that the building was beautifully kept.
"Do you make at least two-hundred and fifty a week?" he asked me.
"Yes!" I lied. It was not at all uncommon for New Yorkers to put up with rudeness in hopes of getting an apartment. It was also not uncommon to lie when necessary.
An hour later I had already seen the management office for the building and I had paid them the first month's rent and the month's security.
The following week I was in there, trying to paint the apartment. They had painted it, but they had only put one coat of white paint over three other shades of ugly colors that the previous tenants had used on the walls. I wanted the apartment to be bright and sparkling and cheerful, so I was covering everything with enamel paint.
I had almost finished the bedroom after the first day of painting. One of the problems in fixing up the apartment was that the walls had all sorts of beautiful moldings on them. There were double glass doors that separated the living room from the bedroom. All of these things were beautiful to look at, but they were difficult to paint.
My muscles were aching and I decided that I needed to get out of the apartment so that I could get a breath of air. I had my sleeping bag on the floor of the living room. Although I had been staying with a friend, I was going to sleep in my apartment that night so that I would be there the following morning when the phone repairman came.
I pulled my hair back so that no one would notice the paint that had streaked it. When I left the apartment, I just naturally went in the direction of Ninth rather than Eighth Avenue. Even though Eighth would have been closer to the theatre district bars and to the heart of the city, I thought that I would explore the more out of the way street.
Going up the block I saw the assortment of restaurants as well as the thrift shop and the hardware store and liquor store, all of which looked more noticeable closed than open.
I also noticed Bobby Ray's once again and I saw a tall, handsome man walking into it. I followed him. For all I knew it could have been a nice bar and they would have kicked me out since I was wearing my jeans and a sweatshirt that I had in the apartment.
As soon as I entered the place I looked around and saw that it was a nice neighborhood bar. I went up to the bar and when the bartender came up to me he said, "Don't I know you?"
I looked at him, a little startled and said, "I've never heard that line from a bartender before this." But as I looked him up and down I could feel my pussy oozing.
He smiled a veryingratiating smile. He wasn't a big man, but what was there looked like it was all muscle bulging under his tee shirt. He had black hair and black eyes and a black moustache that accented the well-tanned features on his face.
His slightly turned up nose gave him a somewhat boyish air, although his powerful gaze made me feel certain that he was all man.
"I own this place. I'm Bobby Ray," the stud bartender said as he looked right through my clothes at my tits.
I leaned back, enjoying the way that he was looking at me as I said, "I just moved into the neighborhood. In fact, I haven't even moved in yet. I'm just painting the apartment now. So, it's impossible for you to have seen me before."
"Wait!" he said, snapping his fingers. "Were you ever in the Wild Thing on Columbus Avenue?"
I nodded my head and immediately recognized him as one of the bartenders from that place. "But, they were always so crowded. How did you remember me?"
"I never forget one that looks like you, babe," he said, running his fingers over my hand.
At that moment, he could have slammed me down onto the bar, pulled all my clothes off and fucked the hell out of me right in front of everybody in that place.
I was so incredibly hot and horny with him coming on in that sensual way that he had.
But, I looked around the bar and pulled my hand away from Bobby, saying, "I don't want to get a reputation around this place. After all, I am a new face in the neighborhood!"
"And what a new face you are!" he remarked under his breath.
"Let me have a white wine," I said, smiling at him in an encouraging way.
He gave me my wine and then started to tell me about the bar. He had bought it from the old management because he saw the potential of building up a big business for it.
"It seems like an out of the way block," I said, looking around. It was not crowded, but the crowd seemed lively and there were certainly enough good looking guys there to satisfy me.
"I'm really gonna make this place into something. I did it when I was the manager of the Wild Thing and I'll be able to do it here!" he insisted.
"Well, I'll be a regular customer. It is very close to my place," I said, giving the handsome man a meaningful look.
He rubbed his finger up and down across the back of my hand as he said, "So, your place is right near here? That's really convenient."
"Yeah," I purred at him, pressing my legs together as I sat on the barstool. I was sure that I was going to be glued to the barstool because of the creamings of my pussy.
"I'd like to take you up on that someday," he said in an even tone of voice.
"Someday?" I asked, repeating the one key word in the sentence.
"I just got back together with my woman and I've gotta save it Up for her. I mean, I just moved in there last night again. Maybe in another week or two when things are cool for me, it'll be easier. If you know what I mean?"
I pulled my hand away from him quickly and smiled at him as I said, "Sure. I'll see you around here, Bobby." Then I brought the wine to my lips as I looked away from him.
When I turned back I saw that he was gone. The bar was a rectangle in the middle of the place so that there were patrons on all four sides of it. Then there was a small area with tables and pinball machines in the front of the place and there was a balcony.
As I walked toward the back of the bar, I glanced over at some of the men who were looking at me. I could see in their eyes that they thought that I was appealing and that meant a great deal to me. My pussy was steaming up and I knew that I couldn't keep it waiting for long.
I looked up at the balcony and then I walked up the steps. It was a small area and there was a table with chairs to one side of it.
Going to the other side of the balcony I stood next to the railing and looked over. I wondered whether I had been too obvious in coming on to the handsome manager.
Then I heard a voice to the side of me saying, "Hi! Are you new around here!"
I turned quickly to the side. That was a very old line and yet, in this instance, it happened to be the truth of the matter. "Yes. I am," I said.
The young man who had spoken leaned very close to me and said, "I thought so. I was getting awfully tired of seeing the same faces around here every day."
"Do you come in here every day?" I asked.
"I come in here more often than I should!" he said, beaming a boyish smile at me.
He really was very appealing. He had a sort of rounded face and a very youthful look about him. His short black hair made him look even more boyish than he was. It was as if there were something anxious about his face.
"My name is Patrick," he said with a thick
Midwestern twang.
"I'm Diana," I said, reaching my hand out to touch his. When he took my hand, he held onto it for a long time and kept on looking into my eyes.
Then he and I went through all of the basic questions that get so tedious in finding a sex partner. Where do you live? Where are you from? Why are you in New York? How old are you?
It was mildly amusing for me to find out that Patrick was twenty-three and was an actor. The first time I had dealt with someone who had fit that description I was a starry eyed kid of fifteen who was willing to lose her cherry.
Now there I was, two years older than the boy was and feeling about as jaded as I could get.
The one thing that I certainly felt was the steaming sensation in my hot pussy.
I knew that I was ready for sex and I felt that Patrick was a pretty likely candidate. Then I asked him, "How do you like the new management as compared to the old one?"
"Things seem to be very pleasant around here," he said with a wry smile. "Just last week I was with an Italian girl. I won't tell you her name because you're bound to meet everyone around here in time. She was so stoned and she was so horny that she sucked my cock right up here on the balcony."
I looked down at the guys playing pool almost directly below us and then I looked over at the two people who were sitting at the table on the other side of the balcony.
"Right up here?" I asked Patrick, feeling hot due to his remark, even if it turned out to be an idle boast.
He nodded, gazing at me with his bright eyes and then he pointed and said, "Over in that corner it's pretty dark, but it was bright enough to see what she was doing."
I couldn't help but smile at the thought of it. But, I was new in the neighborhood and didn't want to get such a trashy reputation before I had even moved in.
"I'm not sure that I would go for doing something like that on the balcony," I said softly.
"Oh! I'm not saying that you should do that! I'm just telling you what happened!"
When he pressed his hand down on my hand, I looked at him and asked, "You live just one block to the south, Patrick?"
Nodding, he said, "My place is a mess. You live right around the corner. Can we go to your place, Diana?" As he spoke he pressed his body against mine.
"I d-don't have any furniture," I explained, weakly. "I was going to sleep in a sleeping bag."
Ten minutes later, Patrick and I were back in the empty apartment. I had placed the sleeping bag in the living room because the bedroom window was open due to the paint fumes that filled up the place.
I turned to Patrick and said, "Well, I warned you about the apartment."
"It looks fine to me," he said, as he pushed me down onto the hard wood floor. The landlord had just done the floors and so they were all nice and shiny and well-finished.
That didn't help any when my round butt landed smack on the floor. Patrick was on top of me and was rubbing his body back and forth across mine. I reached up around Patrick's body and I ran my hands along the hulking form. He was a little bit husky, although he was certainly not a football player type.
As I was feeling his back, I kept on pulling his shirt up out of his pants. Then I ran one of my hands along the warm flesh of his back and pushed the same hand down into the back of his pants, feeling the tightly muscled ass that would be so good when he fucked me.
He was working my sweatshirt up, which was a pretty easy job. Once he had pulled it off and he was running his fingers over my tits, he said, "I just knew that you had pretty boobs like this underneath those loose clothes!"
"Thank you," I whispered, loving to receive compliments like that.
"But I'm feeling a little cold," he said, as he pulled his shirt off.
"We should get into the sleeping bag," I said, reaching for my own slacks and peeling them down. "If this kept me warm in the freezing nights of the Mojave, then it should keep me warm in own apartment in New York."
I watched as he pulled his pants and shorts down. His enormous prong slapped up against his belly and then he reached down into the pubic bush and scratched himself as if to call attention to the handsome staff that was pointing at me.
I got into the sleeping bag and then held it open for him. As he climbed in we soon discovered that it was a tight fit for him. But I reached around behind him and zipped the bag shut so that we were both locked together inside of the satiny thing.
With the sleeping bag completely closed, we were forced into a position where his body was pressing down on mine. We rolled around and around on the floor and the sleeping bag kept moving across the living room floor as we were moving.
"I like the way that your boobs feel against my chest. And I like the way that your legs feel against my legs!" Patrick said.
"Yeah!" I groaned. "Tell me about it!"
I was looking right into his face because the light was on in the living room. He pressed his lips against mine and he kissed me.
Now that I am in my twenties I no longer have to be coaxed to open my mouth in response to a man's tongue. As his lips parted, my lips parted also and I could feel our tongues intertwining. I pushed my tongue all the way into his mouth and then he pressed his teeth down on my moist mouth muscle, sucking on it hungrily and sending chills through me.
As soon as he pulled his mouth away from mine, he pushed on my shoulders and pushed me down into the sleeping bag. I resisted a little bit. The sleeping bag was crowded enough already.
But as he pressed me down, he mumbled, "Come on, babe, suck that cock!"
I could feel the heat that was rushing through my body and I knew that I wanted to give him satisfaction. As I moved down along his body, my lips rubbed lightly against the hair that was in the middle of hisvchest.
Then I was facing the hard dick that was sticking up so thickly from the bush of black pubic hairs. My tongue thrust out and I rubbed it along the head of the cock. Then I slid my tongue down the length of the hard prick.
Rubbing my tongue lightly along the thickness of the dick, I was wetting the whole thing. Then I slid my tongue up around the head of the hard-on and I could taste the little trickling dribble of pre-cum that was oozing from the cock head.
Quickly, I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and tasted Patrick's gism. It was sweet and it was getting my pussy even hotter.
Licking all around the length of the hot meat, I moved all the way down to the balls that were so big and round and hairy and filled with cock cream.
Rubbing my lips along the wrinkled flesh of one of the balls, I enjoyed the feeling of it against my lips. Then I licked at the flesh and sucked on it.
Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I took one of the balls into my mouth and pressed my lips and teeth down so that I could keep it captive where it Was.
Then my tongue slid all around the luscious and musky smelling morsel that was in my mouth. I pressed the firm egg-shaped testicle against the roof of my mouth, using my tongue for pressure against the sensitive flesh of the ball.
Sucking in my cheeks I knew that I was bringing pressure against the guy's balls. My nose was pressed in against the sweaty area that was on the inside of his thigh.
As I slid my lips around the testicle and moved my mouth off the ball, I looked up and could see the living room light that was shining down through the gold, satiny fabric of the sleeping bag. Everything was getting close and warm for me in the confines of the sleeping bag.
Moving my mouth from the ball, I managed to grasp one little bit of his wrinkled flesh between my teeth and to press my teeth down against the soft and sensitive flesh.
I could hear him moaning out loud. Then I flicked out my tongue once again and I pushed it between his left testicle and his left thigh. There was a hot and close area there that was messy with the sweat and the sexual odors of the day.
All day long that part of his body had been locked in between his balls and his leg and the moisture had grown intense on his skin. As I licked, I felt like I was being turned on the more that I was slobbering up.
I had to reach down to my pussy lips so that I could press my fingers between the warm folds of the hot flesh. I spread the lips apart and started to frig myself.
As I did that, I opened my mouth wide and took the head of the cock between my lips. I began to suck on the thick prong for all that I was worth. When I moved my lips all the way forward, I pressed my nose into his pubic patch and my chin rubbed against his balls.
While that was rubbing back and forth, the head of his cock was rubbing back and forth against the smooth flesh that was all the way to the back of my throat.
Then I began to slide my lips back and forth along the dick. I was pressing my lips down and I could feel the firmness of the flesh as I squeezed all along the length.
At the same time, I was playing with my cunt. I could feel the thrills rushing through my body and I knew that I needed more than the simple feeling of my fingers against my pussy flesh. I knew that I had to have a cock shoved all the way inside of me.
Pulling my lips off the enormous prong that had been fucking my face, I cried out, "Fuck me, Patrick! Patrick, I need to feel your big cock all the way inside of me!"
"Suck it!" he snarled, viciously, pushing my head down in the sleeping bag.
The air around my face was humid and foul and I really couldn't breathe any longer. But it was a struggle to get out of the inside of the sleeping bag. Patrick was the one who was struggling with me as he kept on snapping and shouting, "I want you sucking my dick!"
"Just let me breathe!" I called out as my head came up through the top of the sleeping bag.
"You wanna get fucked?" he sneered at me. "I'll show you some fucking!"
I cried out as he pushed me down onto the floor. The sleeping bag was actually between me and the floor, but that didn't provide much padding at all.
Patrick was pressing down on top of me and I could feel his hard dick, still wet from the spit of my mouth, pressing against the pussy patch that fringed my cunt lips.
He really couldn't spread my legs very much because of the confining nature of the sleeping bag, but he managed to position his cock with the head at my cunt lips.
Soon he was working his dick into the hot and wrinkled flesh of my pussy. He pushed to the right and to the left as he tried to get it inside of me.
I arched my hips up a little bit in an effort to get the cock all the way into my cunt. I wanted to help him fuck me and I wanted to feel as much of the cock as I could.
"You're really hot for it, aren't you?" he laughed as he grabbed my tits viciously.
"Yes!" I replied. I suppose that I caught him off-guard with that reply.
Then he slammed the full length of his dick into my cunt and cried out, "If you wanna get fucked, I'll really show you what it is to get your pussy fucked!"
I looked over his shoulder and I could see the sleeping bag moving up and down wildly as he fucked my cunt. There we were in the middle of the bare living room floor with his cock all the way up my pussy and his ass moving at a mile a minute as he worked the flared cock head against the tender and sensitive cunt flesh.
I was turning my head from side to side and I could feel gooseflesh that had risen up on the back of my neck and on my hands and feet as the cock was ripping into me.
Looking up at Patrick's face I could see a wild and demonic look on the otherwise playful and boyish face. There was perspiration that was standing out on his body as he worked his cock in and out of the undulating pussy slit.
Then I cried out, "Yes! Fuck my pussy! Fuck my hot pussy!"
He gasped and snorted as he felt his balls pressing up against his body and knew that he was at the end of his fucking strength. The full length of his cock shoved all the way into my hot pussy just as the cunt flesh around my pussy imploded and clasped the dick.
His lips were pressed down against mine and I breathed in unison with him as we felt our genitals locked together in a hot combination.
There was a satisfied grin on his face as he pulled the cock out of my cunt. Then he looked over to the side and, before I could say anything, he unzipped the sleeping bag.
As I saw him pulling his underpants up his legs, I said, "You don't have to get dressed."
"I'm going home," Patrick said as he grabbed up his pants.
"I have coffee here," I said. Adding, almost apologetically, "If you want to stay for breakfast."
"I should go. I couldn't sleep on the hard floor," he said, pulling on the rest of his clothes.
I was going to sleep on the hard floor. But, then again, it was my apartment. For a moment I thought of inviting myself back to his apartment, which would have had a bed. But, then I decided that if he didn't make the offer, I wouldn't.
As he was getting dressed, I said, "I'm having my phone put in tomorrow morning, so I don't have a phone number yet that I can give you."
"I'll see you around the bar," he said, turning to the door. I was going to ask him for his phone number so that I could give him my number when I got it. But it was obvious that he wasn't interested. He wasn't even going to pretend that he was interested.
I got out of the sleeping bag, naked as I was, and I went to the door with him. He gave me a polite kiss on the lips and said, "Good luck in the new apartment."
When I had shut the door and locked it, I said to myself, "Maybe my way with men is improving. This time the guy kissed me and wished me luck after fucking me!"