1 Apartment Hunting

"I don't suppose I could ask two questions?"

"Very well."

"What's your name?"

"Morgan."

"A distinct pleasure, Morgan." I licked pussy juice off my lips. She smiled dreamily.

"Secondly, is there anything I could borrow to hide my nudity?"

"No." She grinned evilly at my surprise. "I rather like the idea of hot studs running naked in the halls. It'll give me such nice dreams."

And then Morgan rolled over and seemed set on falling alseep. I had the distinct feeling she was watching me for any unauthorized borrowing. I decided to pass on whining or begging. I knelt down and gave her a light kiss on the lips.

"Until next time."

I strode to the door, cock keeping time like a fat baton, peeped out on an empty passage, and exited. Thru the far too familiar stairwell door and, without incident, bounded up to Floor 5. Tabatha's apartment was 402 and flanked the stairwell door. One floor up, #501 flanked the other in mirror image, so no more hallway sprints. Finally, I was here. I knocked. No answer.

What the hell do you mean, no answer?

The elevator chimed, making me jump. I knocked again, louder. Shit, oh, shit. One of these times, the tenant would scream bloody murder, or rape, and that would be that. The elevator's hydraulics sighed wearily and the doors groaned open. I pressed into the shallow alcove that shielded 501 from immediate view, wishing very hard that the passenger turned left off the elevator.

She turned right. Not only right, but nearly collided with me as I stood in front of, apparently, her doorway. High black boots dripping with slush and snow. A knee-length coat of a subtle emerald plaid. Left gloved hand holding toque and scarf. Right gloved hand holding a large black duffel back. The face of a butterscotch-skinned goddess looked at me with shock.

"Please don't scream!" I nearly blubbered, my dignity and machismo fading with repeated trauma. "I just want my clothes. I won't hurt you."

The great green eyes had been wide in shock and then narrowed in defiant anger. Her duffel bag and accoutrements had hit the floor and she had pulled a can of pepper spray from her pocket faster than Wyatt Earp. She had the nozzle pointing at me as I finished my plea. I cringed back hard against the door, eyes scrunched shut, hands raised...

Nothing. I had never been hit by pepper spray, but I think there would at least be an aerosol hiss. I ventured a peek, swallowing hard.

The amazing jade eyes in the exquisitely molded face regarded me with a quizzical suspicion that brought a flutter of hope to my racing heart. She absently fluffed at her thick, shoulder-length coffee-brown hair. The pepper spray remained at the ready, but the tension eased out of her arm.

"Your clothes are in there?"

I nodded like the village idiot.

She cocked her head. "Okay...who lives there?" A test. A quiz.

"I have no idea."

The pepper spray came up again.

"I don't!" Somewhere in there, my spirit had decided to go out standing on my own two, bare, feet rather than give in to whining. I dropped my arms and stood erect. My flagging penis also stirred back up. This beauty of this woman would stir a statue. "All I know is that I went out today apartment hunting and let my cock do my thinking for me. I don't regret a single fucking moment, or moment of fucking, but I don't know if my heart can take any more shenanigans."

I jerked a thumb behind me. "As far as I know, Kyle and Leslie Ann Poirer are in there with an unknown number of pranksters who stole my clothing. They're not answering the door. If you have a key, you had better use it before I injure myself trying to kick it down."

A brilliant white smile quirked the full lips. She tucked the pepper spray away and held our her hand. "I'm Marita."

I shook her delicate hand. In her boots, Marita nearly stood as tall as myself. "I'm Zach."

"I'm really sorry about the pepper spray. In my line of work, I get some weird encounters."

I waved away her apology, smiling in happy relief. "It can be a scary world, when it's not being absolutely amazing. Today has been a generous mix of both."

Marita picked up her scarf and toque off the floor, shoving them into jacket pockets. She remained down in a squat a moment, openly examining, and if the smile was an indication, admiring my cock. It perked up at the attention, bouncing like a puppy. She smiled slyly and stood up, big eyes now hooded by long lashes. "I'll say."

She dug out a ring of keys. I stepped aside to let her reach the lock. Her cloth coat brushed against my nude body. My cock rasped across the material and prodded a firm hip.

She twisted the doorknob. I gallantly scooped up the duffel bag before she could make any request. Marita dimpled and stepped inside. I followed, crowding past so she could close the door.

Our noses immediately told us that people had recently gotten sweaty, and gotten sweaty having sex. Some of the aroma came from the drying Morgan juice on my face, but not all.

Our eyes took in a living room bachanal. Or, the aftermath of one. Kyle and two younger men lay sprawled around a comatose Leslie Ann. Splashes of cum still gleamed in the soft light on all their bodies.

"Damn them." Marita wailed thru clenched teeth. "Having that kind of fun without me, leaving themselves on display like that. These selfish assholes know how horny I get after I put in a matinee stripping, but they couldn't wait. Oh, GOD, I'm on fire."

She turned to me, green eyes on fire now. Her eager smile had a predatory aspect that both excited and slightly worried me. "It looks like your story checks out. Now I'm going to fuck your brains out before I go crazy."

Marita whipped open her long coat and revealed a fully nude body that bugged my eyes and made my jaw open. The deep, golden caramel skin swept down in streamlined curves, unmarred by blemish. Her full, round breasts jiggled and begged to be cupped. The thick brown nipples and wide areolas were made for all-day sucking. Her hips curved perfectly over the round melons of her superb ass. Her legs, my god, her legs went on forever, sleek and slim. A tasteful little landing strip of hair showed between her legs.

She gave an inarticulate growl and launched herself at me. Tight muscle rolled under that satin cocoa flesh and I staggered back. Her lovely big tits spread against my chest, her nipples pressing hard into my pecs. I thudded back into the wall as her sweet full lips crushed into the nape of my neck and her arms locked me in a crushing hug. Then my lust swept up and took control. My arms surrounded her slim torso in a bearhug and I growled into her ear. My hands swept over the smooth skin from the neck under her wild mane of hair down to the pert globes of her amazing ass. So warm and smooth. I worried a moment that even my sissy artist hands were too rough and gritty.

She writhed against me and I gripped her tight. Skin is the body's largest erogenous zone and we couldn't get enough contact. My breath panted hot and she breathed steam into my ear. My cock stiffened into a hammer that could punch holes in concrete as she gripped and stroked it with her thighs. Her pussy spread fire and oil across the top of my cock as the lips ran its length.

With a heaving gasp, she tore herself away. Marita's eyes burned with raw animal instinct as she fought for breath. She took my hand and dragged me down a corridor, a tight bodied amazon wearing nothing but sleek black boots. A twist of a doorknob and I was pulled inside a dark bedroom. I was pushed and fell unseeing on to a wide, firm mattress and cool satin sheets. The dim light from the door silhouetted my goddess as she bent and jiggled. Two quick zips and the boots came off. One leap and she was on me.

We resumed our writhing embrace, working with the pull of the earth, letting it sink us into the luxury of the mattress. My lips savaged her full lips, and our tongues danced. I felt Marita's hand grope between our slick bodies until she found my cock. Gripped tight in slender fingers, she reared back. My eyes had adjusted to the faint light. Her curves and form made me ache. Women like this only existed in the slickest magazines, the most elite mansions. A guttural moan came up from the pit of my groin and out my mouth.

Marita didn't waste a moment in teasing or flirting. The woman said she was horny and she proved by driving her sopping hot cunt down on my cock in one lunge. We both groaned now, a harmony of driving lusts. She braced herself on my chest with clawing fingers and she began, as promised, to fuck my brains out.

She had legs of steel. She bounced madly above me, slamming down so the room filled with the sloppy sounds of hot sex. The slaps of us meeting us ripped like machine gun fire. I'm usually quiet during sex, but the two of us could not stop muttering and moaning and groaning. Her palms flexed and spasmed on my chest, her nails digging into the muscle. My world was bubbling over with sensation, all pouring down to my gyrating crotch.

Marita's moans built and crescendoed to a wail. She came down hard, her cunt trying to swallow my cock and me whole. Her body clenched, her magnificent legs gripped me, her hands went into my chest in a death grip. Then she slumped with a very contented whimper, her amazing tits slipping in our mutual sweat.

Fuck this!

I had a live bomb between my legs. I pushed and slid her off me. Marita blinked in momentary confusion. I floundered across the damp tangle of sheets and scrambled to my knees, my cock spraying love fluids as it flailed. I grabbed her hips and pulled her ass up.

"Yeah, baby. Fuck me like a dog!" Marita roused herself to my needs. She reached under and helped guide my straining prick. I drove it like a missile into her steaming, dripping pussy. It still gripped me tight and sweet.

Feet and knees braced, I began to drive my cock into her. The pressures were so close, I reckoned they would blow out my ears if I didn't get release. Marita's moans ramped up again. Sweat cascaded off me on to the arching butterscotch back.

"Oh, Zach, FUCK ME! LORD, you're hitting so deep and good! RAM my pussy!""

My crotch jackhammered against that sweet pillow of her ass. My palms slipped on the wet skin, so I gripped her hips harder and I fucked!

Marita's obscene chatter became gibberish howls. I grunted like a crazed grizzly bear. My heart pounded triple time. My cock plunged in and out. My whole life focused on the hot clutch of a superb cunt.

I shouted and pulled her back. My balls exploded and my cock fired and fired and fired. Marita's vagina squeezed and spasmed as she enjoyed a second climax.

And then I fell over. I had enough chivalry to not collapse across her panting body, but that's all I managed.

"C'mon pal, time to wake up."

A grip on my shoulder gently shook. I blundered back into reality with a gurgle.

The hands were amiable, but insistent. "Up and at 'em. Time for you to hit the showers and the wonders of the real world. Time for me to enjoy a nap with my wife."

This jerked me closer to consciousness. I peered a smiling man. A smiling naked man. Marita snored quietly on the bed. He pushed gently towards the door. "I hope to meet you properly someday soon. And, judging by the evidence," he took a sniff of the sex bouquet hanging in the air and chuckled, "Marita will want to see you as well."

I reached the muted hallway. Marita's husband pointed "The shower is in there. Your clothes are in the hamper there." He gave a friendly little salute and closed the bedroom door.

I stood there like a dummy, blinking. My brain would be processing today for a long time to come. Right now, it pouted in disappointment that Marita was not to be my golden goddess. Then I rallied. But I stood a good chance of seeing her again.

I lurched into the bathroom, bouncing my shoulder off the door jamb and wincing at the full glare of the lights. As promised, my long lost clothes lay folded in a bright blue plastic wicker laundry hamper. But first, that shower. My second, or third, of the day?

My clothes felt oddly heavy and scratchy after these last hours of bare ass hijinks. With Linda's gear rolled neatly under my arm, I let myself out of the silent #501.

An hour later, a professional (and clothed) Kyle and Leslie Ann had processed the paperwork. I was the new tenant of #306. They filled me in on their secret strategy. Over the five years they had managed this apartment building, they had managed to fill vacancies with people of a "liberal, lusty philosophy". Swingers, to various degrees. Sex addicts, by some definitions. About one-third of the 44 tenants were of this mindset. Leslie Ann smiled wickedly, and said it would be up to me to ferret out who was who. I smiled back, not informing them I already had Morgan on my scavenger hunt list. A gentleman never tells.

Keys and a lusty kiss and I was on my way. But I did not immediately plunge back into the arctic cold. I went back up, on the elevator, to the fourth floor. I shifted Linda's things to the crook of my left arm and knocked on #405. No answer. I knocked again, refraining from pounding. That wouldn't send the right message. Still nothing.

I dithered about hauling women's gym clothes across the city and back. I decided to use the 405 key that was part of the bundle. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, wincing at possibly being shot as an intruder. "Hello?"

I resisted dumping the stuff on the floor and running. That would be very much the wrong message. I stepped down the short hall to the kitchen counter visible from the door. I set the clothing on the cheery blue formica and lay the key atop them.

The warbling moan of a woman in the climb to climax came thru the bedroom door.

I tiptoed back out. I was going to love living here....