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Tangled Up In Pink Ch. 1

By: planet_x



Red boots, baggy black jeans, a washed-out chartreuse t-shirt a size too small, messy short hair with rust-colored highlights among the wet black curls: that was unmistakably Erin, leaning in the doorway of the China King, the neon dragon above her still spitting neon flames until the owner, Mr. Hua, locked up for the night. I was late, as always, but when I glided up to the curb and popped open the door for Erin to slide in beside me, she didn't complain, only leaned across the bench seat and gnawed gently on the rim of my ear while her hand explored my crotch. Out of the tail of my eye, I watched the dragon go dark before it was eclipsed by the curve of Erin's cheek. Then we both heard Mr. Hua rattle his keys and cough, and Erin waved out the window, shouting goodnight as I slipped into traffic and somehow eluded every red light on the way home.

Arriving at our old building on the corner of Holly Park, we raced each other up the stairs, Erin's boots loud on the wooden treads, her laughter echoing up and down the stairwell. She beat me to the door as she always did, then teased me with a free-ranging grope as I tried to find my keyring among all the other junk in my pockets. At last, distracting her with a deep slow kiss and a hand down the back of her jeans, I rescued my key from where it had been hiding, then sneaked it under her blocking arm and into the brass slot in the door. Turn and click and we tumbled inside together, giggling when we weren't moaning from how good we each tasted to the other.

Sometimes, when we came home after work, we would get a couple of beers and put on music and sit around and talk about whatever we'd done that day. But, other times, we just walked four-legged, sideways and backwards into the bedroom, and fell onto the mattress already half-involved in a quick rough fuck. This was one of those times. Erin had my cock out and hard before I'd even thrown my backpack into the corner; I had her shirt up over her tits and her nipples hard under my palms before we'd even closed the door behind us. And when I managed to kick the door shut, Erin pushed me up against it and melted kneeward to take my erection into her mouth, not to blow it, but to lube it good with saliva before letting me inside her cunt.

When my dick was wet enough, Erin rose up and kissed me long and hard, letting me taste my precome on her tongue. Then she pulled me by my willing member, leading me from the darkness of the foyer to our bare, moonlit bedroom. Everywhere else in our apartment, we cluttered up the walls and shelves with art and books and various odd objects, but there was nothing in our bedroom but a big wide bed in a wrought-iron frame and a stereo on the seat of a ladderback chair. We didn't even have curtains on the windows, not that anyone could have ever spied on us as we played all our favorite games, since we faced out the north side of the building and the windows both looked out across the treetops of Holly Park and lowlands beyond.

Erin let go of me long enough to push her jeans down her hips, then she threw me back onto the unmade bed and grabbed my hardon, guiding it between her thighs. Her jeans fell below her knees and she spread her legs to straddle me, her luscious small tits hanging kissably close to my mouth. I shoved a pillow under my head, then reached around to squeeze Erin's ass-cheeks against my shaft. I slipped deep inside her, my cock reaching up into her body, the tip rubbing slow strokes up and over the ridges of her love-tunnel. "God, fuck," she said, and I moaned in sympathy. She opened to me, then wrapped me in velvet, and invited my finger into her puckering nether-hole with an urgent whisper in my ear, saying, "Yeah, fuck...stick it all the way up my ass." Which I did, with a little help from the generous font of her overflowing pussy.

So we screwed, and it was amazing. We humped until the bedframe screeched a little dance across the wooden floor. We fucked hard enough to make the windowpanes rattle in their warped old frames. We fucked loud enough to wake the neighbors, if we'd had any except for a man and woman who only used the place downstairs for afternoon trysts. We fucked long enough for the moon to turn from silver to sepia and drop down behind the black shapes of the wind-fondled trees in the park. And, at last, Erin bit my shoulder and jerked her clitoris down hard on my shaft, while I lifted my ass off the sweat-soaked bedsheets to drive my cock as deep as it would go.

I felt her vagina twitch, felt her body go rigid then spasm as the first bright wave of euphoria rushed out from her cunt. I felt my cock respond with a massive surge of pleasure, though I held my cum back for an infinitely long second or two, to let it erupt all at once into Erin's wildly quivering snatch. She held me tight as she rode out her orgasm, and I in turn pressed her ass down hard while my jism flowed up and out of my thumping erection.

Gasping, moaning, crying out in unison, we bucked against each other and shuddered through wave after wave of intense joy. Then, before I had even spilled my last drop of semen, Erin jumped off me and lowered her head onto my lap, taking my warm, honey-drenched cock into her mouth for a long slow suck. I watched her cheeks go hollow as she drained me of all my juice. I reached around and felt the slack hollowness of her pussy, felt her lips enfold my fingers like the petals of a loving venus flytrap. And I wallowed in the glow of wonder I always felt when I realized just how lucky I was to have a soulmate like Erin...

Next: Erin's best friend comes back to town for a long weekend.

Tangled Up In Pink Ch. 2



Kicking a path through drifts of rain-wet gingko leaves, I followed Lynch Street up and over the hump of a hill, then followed Gower down the far slope until it emptied into Holly Park. I lingered for a moment by the gate and looked across the wide green field toward the apartment house where Erin and I lived. It was a red brick box perched on the shoulder of a low ridge, and was called The Riverside, even though the river was five blocks away. Looking up, I could see the third-storey window of the bedroom where Erin and I slept (as opposed to the window hidden around the corner, which belonged the bedroom where we fucked). The sash was pushed halfway up to let in the unseasonably warm autumn breeze, and the row of blue glass insulators aligned along the sill glinted in the fading light. I set out on the ascending path, feeling weightless despite the nagging tug of gravity. It had been a long day down at the studio where I worked, and all I wanted now was to take Erin into my arms and kiss her long and deep.

The shadow of a lonely cloud chased me into the foyer, then the sun reemerged and spilled a wine-colored glow into the lobby. The brass trim around the elevator door shone bright gold, and the checkerboard tiles of the floor revealed a network of ancient scars. I liked this old building a lot, especially the old-fashioned mailboxes with their combination locks and tiny windows, and the ceiling lights that were vaguely botanical, with globes like ripe buds hanging from thin stems. The whole place gave off a tangible aura of history, a sense of memories tucked away like paper prayers in every corner and crevice. Besides, it was nice to finally live outside the confines of the student ghetto, where we'd had our first apartment. Here in the fading heart of the city there were all different kinds of people living out their individual stories, and we liked to speculate upon the secret adventures that might be going on all around us. After all, we were both, at heart, unrepentant voyeurs.

As the elevator chimed past the second floor, I thought back to how Erin and I had laid on our stomachs and listened to the people downstairs the night before. We had been sharing a tightly-wound little joint when we heard the apartment under us come to life, the muffled sounds of doors opening and closing rising up through the gaps between rugs. No one actually lived down there, not full-time, anyway. Instead, as far as we could tell, a couple was using it for a meeting-place, somewhere to spend a few stolen moments once a week or so. Since Erin worked nights, she was often home during the day, and she occasionally woke up from her afternoon slumber to find the room filled with moans and sighs and the insistent pulse of a headboard pounding against the wall. She liked to sit by the window and wait for the couple to leave, so that, like an amateur spy, she could study them and imagine the details of their affair. By now, we thought we knew the general pattern of their relationship, though it was erratic at times, with trysts now and then happening in the middle of the night, or during the mornings for weeks on end.

This time, there must have been a good opportunity on both sides for arranging a rendezvous in the early evening. We heard water running, or rather sensed the sympathetic vibration in the tiles of our bathroom. Then we could hear the murmur of voices, a subtle hum flowing like live current under the floorboards. Erin looked off into space and smiled to herself while plucking absent-mindedly at the waistband of her panties. I lay the wet brown roach in the ashtray on the end table, then leaned over to nuzzle Erin's neck. Her hair smelled good, her skin smelled better, and my cock grew warm in anticipation of sometime soon getting to revel in the scent of her delectable pussy. But Erin pushed me away with a quiet giggle, then put her finger to her lips. She scooted her ass off the futon sofa and sank to the floor, grabbing at my hand as she rolled over on her belly. I followed her down and lay beside her, pushing all the scattered rugs and pillows into a pile against the baseboard. We turned our heads sideways so that we could face each other. Erin grinned and looked deep into my eyes while a mischievous spark danced in her own.

When I pressed my ear down, I could hear someone knocking about as if they were shifting furniture or going in and out of dresser drawers. It would have been really nice to be able to see through the floor, to hover above the couple downstairs and watch them as they moved through ritual toward sex. But listening was good, too, because then you could picture almost anything in your mind's eye. Plus, it was arousing as hell, knowing that soon our whole apartment would soak up the ghostly essence of a clandestine screw.

I lay a little apart from Erin and reached across the space between us to hold her hand. She squeezed my fingers, then sucked gently on her lower lip, excitement bringing a flush to her cream-colored skin. Now we could hear nothing but cars gliding slowly up and down the street outside. I whispered, "They're kissing," and Erin nodded and mouthed a silent yes. I was tempted to follow our neighbor's lead and take Erin's tongue into my mouth, but I also liked watching as she rolled over on her side and began toying with her erect nipple through the thin cloth of her t-shirt. So I stayed where I was, connected to my soulmate only through my fingertips and gaze.

Soon, we could hear a bedspring creaking, though there wasn't yet a rhythm to the sound. It was more like the noise you make when you first tumble onto the mattress with a lover and playfully wrestle around, visiting every erogenous zone with a fast lick or caress. Erin got a faraway look in her eyes and sat up long enough to pull off her t-shirt. Her cherry-colored nipples stood out like the triggers on a joystick, but I didn't reach out to touch them, instead inventing an unspoken rule for tonight's game: look and listen, but don't rush anything. Erin and I were in synch at times like this, and I knew she would read my mind and follow along.

She lifted her hip off the floor after she lay back down, and slipped off her panties one-handed, kicking them into a corner. Then she crooked her leg and let her hand drop toward her well-trimmed little bush. Inspired, I got undressed in turn, adding my clothes to the cushiony pile behind my back. I traced the length of my erection with a slow finger, up and down and up again. I kept my head flat on the floorboards, and could now hear a murmuring female voice. I thought I could even make out the occasional word, but that might have been half wishful thinking. Looking across at Erin, I could tell she was concentrating hard, even as she dipped her finger into her sex and brought it up to spread juice on her nipple.

After a while, the rocking began in earnest. The lovers downstairs had moved through foreplay a little faster than usual, perhaps under pressure to get back to their separate lives before some deadline or other. They began to fuck in unison, making their borrowed bed tap then pound against the wall. I could hear both of them moaning, crying out, telling each other without words all about the pleasure they shared. Meanwhile, Erin and I stayed as quiet as possible, and avoided moving too much lest we make the floorboards squeak and give us away. 

I began to stroke my hardon while Erin splayed her fingers across her wide-open vulva. Together, we masturbated in a slow and relaxed way, stealing glances at one another, mutually excited by being so close, yet touching only by holding hands. We listened to our neighbors as they made the walls thrum to a sexy beat. They were lost in their moment and grew loud enough we could hear their voices come in through the half-open window, as well as from below. Then, when we heard the unmistakable shout of someone riding the crest of an immense orgasm, we giggled and began loving ourselves a little harder and faster, and raced each other toward bliss.

Erin came first. She strummed her swollen clitoris with her middle finger, her other fingers held up and away like the spread limbs of a spider. Then she suddenly arched her back and bit her lip, and a tear trickled down her cheek as she moaned deep in her throat. I held her hand tight while watching her squirt love-juice into a puddle between her thighs. She was so beautiful like that, her perfect small body wracked with wave after wave of pleasure, her ripe breasts tipped with nipples hard as candy, the muscles in her neck tensed to draw out the glow of her come. 

Now a man's voice rushed up into the ceiling and out the floor. He was coming hard, his semen probably bursting out in a flood from being pent-up too long. I became hyper-aroused and stroked my hardon as fast as I could. Erin, still floating down from cloud nine, rolled over to watch me from under heavy eyelids. Her breasts jiggled as I pounded my fist up and down my cock, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to cover them with sperm.

I sat up on my knees and held my cock out toward Erin. The lovers downstairs had gone quiet again, no doubt basking in the warmth of their secret love. I could feel the heat of an impending orgasm rise up through my shaft, and I slowed my strokes so I could glide into a smooth come. I looked down and watched my cockhead swell, then watched it twitch as a ribbon of milky jism flew out and landed with a smack on Erin's skin. She immediately picked the strand up on her fingertip and touched it to her tongue. My cock spasmed again and again and emptied my balls of juice. Erin spread my semen all over her tits and belly, while grinning wickedly up at me. I sat back and let her tongue my throbbing shaft until she had licked it clean.

We heard water running again as someone flushed the downstairs toilet, then heard the sounds of doors closing, one after another until the lovers had left the apartment entirely. Erin reached up to switch off a lamp, then leaned on the windowseat to keep an eye on the street below. It wasn't long before she gestured that I should I join her. I put my arm around her and watched the couple walk out of the building and down the sidewalk toward separate cars. They were both somewhat older than Erin and I, but attractive. The woman had dark red hair, kept curly and short; the man was tall with longish black hair. He slightly resembled a professor I'd had once for anthropology, but I couldn't be certain it was him from this angle, especially as dusk had finally settled on the neighborhood.

Later that night, laying sleepless in bed, we talked about spying on them for real sometime...sneaking into their apartment to watch them from a hiding-place. We also fantasized about contriving a way to invite them up for a night of sexual adventure. In the end, though, we agreed that they seemed like a private couple, and that we might be better off just leaving them alone. Who knew what their true story was, after all....

Lost in this reverie about the night before, I had sleepwalked from the elevator to my door. Shaking off the daydream, I found myself standing there with the key in my hand, reluctant as always to knock in case Erin was napping or busy. Glancing toward the window at the end of the hall, I could see that the sun had sunk low in the sky and was now a bloated tangerine on the horizon. I slipped the key in the slot and turned the knob, then stepped inside to look for Erin so I could give her the kiss I'd wanted to give her all day....

To Be Continued...