4 comments/ 86191 views/ 0 favorites Needles By: DiaperedSiouxsie I've always liked my apartment complex. It's set up in much the same way that a motel is, minus the whole sleazy factor. Despite the reasonable rent, the place was full of nice, classy people and there hadn't been a single disturbance since my wife Danielle and I moved here eight years ago. Nothing until Season moved in to the apartment adjacent to ours with her husband Phil. God, what a gorgeous, gorgeous girl. Bright, red hair that couldn't have been natural (not that I gave a shit), beautiful, shimmering blue eyes, smooth skin, long delicious looking legs, an ass that gave fags erections, and tits enough for everybody. Plus, she was only twenty one. When I was twenty one fifteen years ago, I had never noticed anyone like her. Simply put, I just wanted to devour this girl. I met her at the complex pool one day shortly after they moved in. She was lying on her back on an extended lounge chair sunning with a tight, yellow two piece bikini. It was beautiful. And I hate yellow. Fortunately, my wife hated water, so she would stay inside watching her fucking soaps and drinking her gin while I would be out here with this young vixen. Not that I'd have a chance with her, it's jus nice to think. I approached her with my towel draped over my arm, attempting to be calm, cool, and collective. "Hi," I stammered, trying desperately not to stammer. She turned her head toward me and took her sunglasses off, exposing her eyes that sparkled far more than that pool ever did. Much to my delight, she smiled. "Hi," she replied. I suddenly found myself at a loss for words. Quickly, I dove into my mental dictionary, prepared to say anything just for sake of saying something. I felt myself searching endlessly in there, testing to see if my brain was even capable of producing something for me to say. "Test, test, this is a test..." "Excuse me?" Shit. Idiot! "Sorry," I said, regaining my composure, "I, uh, noticed that you're new here. I just wanted to give you a warm welcome to the community." Her smile glowed, it went right through me like radiation poisoning from an atomic bomb. It made me have to smile too. Danielle couldn't make the world stop with a mere smile. "Thanks!" she enthused. "I really appreciate that. And Phil didn't think that there'd be any nice people here." My short lived smile flickered. "Phil?" She laughed a cute little laugh. "My husband." My smile died. It was debatable if I'd ever express any emotion whatsoever with my mouth again. She wrinkled up her nose in the most adorable fashion possible. "You should meet Phil. I think you two would get along." She extended her hand. "I'm Season." I shook her hand. It was so soft, so precious. "That's a very pretty name. I'm Cecil." Her smile had never left her face. Feeling the awkwardness, I decided to make up an excuse to leave. "Well, I just wanted to greet you. My wife would have come along, but she's busy." "Well, that's understandable," she replied. "Not all people are nice enough to go up to strangers and make conversation." I faked a nervous laugh. She complimented me. Now what? I figured it was best to leave before my gaze lingered a little too long over her pendulous breasts. "Well, I hope to see you around," I said cheerfully, finally letting go of her hand. She waved as I walked away. I hoped that she didn't find it odd that I went to the swimming area in my trunks only to greet her. In reality a swim would have been relaxing, an escape from that annoying bitch Danielle, but with her there, ...I don't know, I just couldn't. I walked in to the dull, smoky apartment, the smokiness courtesy of my wife's two-pack-a-day proclivity. There she sat on an easy chair in a nightie she once looked sexy in with legs that didn't used to be so hairy watching soaps. Bottle of gin in one hand, Virginia Slim in the other. She looked like she was about to pass out, which was just fine with me because that meant she wouldn't bother me. I headed straight into the bedroom bathroom, dropped my trousers, and started beating off. Season's image was burned into my mind, I couldn't help picturing that pool scenario going a little differently. Me sliding in between her legs, massaging her crotch with mine until she'd practically rip her bikini bottoms off and beg me to fuck her. Before that afternoon, I had never cum like that. Just masturbating brought me a better orgasm than fucking Danielle ever did. It was amazing. The next morning I was up bright and early in the complex gym working out. even though what I was doing was highly unsexual, I still thought of Season and how to get her into bed. I glanced over out the window as I was lifting and saw Season with who I assumed was Phil. It may have been me, but I could've sworn that she was staring at me. I may be old, but my working out has gotten me a fairly muscular body. I'll never forget that lustful look in her beautiful blue sapphires that resembled eyes. Maybe it was me, maybe it was left over from Phil. I had no clue. Later in the evening, it began to rain. I had no clue why, it had been bright and sunny the day before. It didn't matter though, I loved the rain. To me it was beautiful. As I sat relaxed in the couch by the easy chair in the living room, my less-than-lovely wife began the barking that she was famous for. "Cecil! Go get the mail!" It felt like nails and screws being driven into my brain. "You know how I hate the cold. Go!" I grumbled in agreement and set off to the main office. I walked slowly through the rain, enjoying it as the cold drops of water splashed on my face and rolled down my gaunt cheeks. I entered the main office and headed straight for the mail room. Reaching my apartment number, I fumbled around in my pocket and found the key. I opened the mailbox and looked inside. Nothing. Not a goddamned thing. This trip, though rather enjoyable, had been a waste of precious energy. "Hey, Cecil!" I looked to the source of the melodious voice. It was Season. I smiled to try and match hers, but Betelgeuse was no match for the shine her smile produced. "Season," I said warmly. "What's up?" She walked somewhat aimlessly, her eyes lazily drifting up and down my body, I hope. In a seductive way, not like she was high or anything. Shit, I hoped for as much. The only way I could've nailed her would be if I had gotten her intoxicated beyond belief. Needless to say, it was only my poor pathetic imagination. She was probably just looking around the mail room. My eyes darted away from her luscious body to the window. Outside the rain rapped against the window gently, backed by a somber yet inspirational sky. "I just love this weather," I told her. "Yeah," she agreed. "Its beautiful. No one else likes it. I don't get why." "Me neither," I shrugged. Her mailbox was next to mine, so when she came to get her mail I got a big whiff of her. Mmmm, if only that smell could stay in my nostrils indefinitely. So good and feminine. We both closed our mail box doors simultaneously and stared out the window, side by side. I felt her soft arm brushing against mine, and her hand seemed to be rubbing lightly in total subtlety against mine. Forgetting about Danielle and Phil momentarily, I clasped her hand, and she gripped my hand loosely. We didn't look at each other or even speak, we just share that lovely moment. After a minute or so, she released my hand and walked away. "Bye, Cecil," she said lowly. I couldn't even reply. I was still in awe that what had happened had just happened. I couldn't believe that I got to touch her again. The next afternoon was laundry day. Naturally, Danielle was too much of a lazy ass to do such chores, so I did it myself. I was finishing one load when Season walked in. "Hey, Cecil," she said with an almost sultry tone. I waved weakly as she walked over to the vending machines. She selected an item, purchased it, and sat on the washing machine next to mine. "How're things?" she asked brightly. She looked really hot today; she had really short denim cutoffs and a loose fitting gray shirt that accented her marvelous bust. I tried not to pay too much attention to that, though. "I'm fine," I told her. "Yourself?" "Good," she answered. "But you're full of shit." I arched my eyebrows at her. "You're not fine," she continued. "You've seemed like a sad unsatisfied person since I've met you. What's the deal?" I sighed. "You really want to know?" She nodded. "My wife," I muttered. "I've been celibate for seven months. She never wants to do anything but drink, smoke, and watch TV. I feel so pathetic because all I do is beat off. That's my problem." This seemed to arouse empathy and disbelief within her. "A good looking guy like you? That doesn't make sense." I almost blushed like a school girl. "I don't know," I said. "No, really," Season went on, "when you go that long without sex that you could be having if you really wanted to.." "Whoa," I interrupted. "You mean I should have an affair?" She got very coy all of a sudden and backed up. "Well, I'm just saying that you could if you wanted to," she giggled. "Look, I've got to go. See ya." The way her ass moved as she walked was too damn sexy for reality. This reality full of guys like me with wives like Danielle. I pondered what Season had said as I pulled the clothes out of the dryer and carried them back to the apartment. When I got inside, I saw something I hadn't seen for literally months. Danielle was standing without gin or a cigarette in hand. And the television was off. "I'm going out tonight," she muttered. "Keri and I are gong to the bar." "So you'll be soused elsewhere tonight," I mumbled. "At least you're making some progress." She left at about six, and I decided to take a nap. When I woke up, I heard muffled sounds. I moved around in my bed thinking that they were mental until they got clearer. Soon I realized what they were - they were moans. I was hearing Season moaning as she fucked Phil. She was a great screamer, and the headboard banging against the wall didn't help either. It was getting me so riled up that I didn't think just jacking off would help anything. It was sheer agony. Finally about a half hour later it stopped, and I heard Phil leave. Now I was plagued with what to do. It seemed as though all obstacles had been removed for living out my masturbatory fantasies of fucking Season. I paced the living room for a while until I got the balls to try going over there. I walked outside and stood at their front door for a couple seconds and eventually knocked. I think she thought I was Phil coming back for more because she answered the door wearing nothing but white cotton panties around her thighs. I've always had a thing for panties, so seeing this beautiful girl like that intensified my desire. She had an embarrassed look on her face and quickly spun around, looking for clothes. I grabbed her arms and turned her back around, verbally pouring out the lust I'd had for her. Before I could finish, she hungrily kissed me and practically sucked my uvula out. My tongue emerged to retaliate against her invasion and our locked lips refused to part. My hands wandered down her godly body and I felt her cunt, so wet and supple. Her hands did a bit of wandering as well, one was rubbing the bulge in the crotch of my jeans and the other was running through my black hair. I grabbed her legs and she instantly wrapped them around my midsection. I walked us to her bedroom and promptly dropped her on the bed. She began unbuttoning my shirt and kissing every bit of my chest that was exposed. Her lips and hands made their way down to my crotch. She unbuttoned my pants and out sprang my dick. It startled her, how hard it was and its size, and I tried not to laugh. As soon as she recovered from her momentary shock she dropped to her knees and shoved it in her mouth. Her hands played with my balls as she swirled her tongue around my shaft wildly. Sh began bobbing her head faster, and with that excellent technique, I exploded into her mouth in no time. She swallowed all I had to give her and smiled upon completion. "I guess you like blowjobs," she giggled. "Not just that," I said. "It's been so long, what guy could last with you?" She smiled that earth shattering smile of hers and sat on the bed, spreading her legs slowly. Now it was my turn to drop to my knees. I ripped the panties off and dove headfirst into her soaking pussy. I ran my tongue slowly up her slick quim and she began to writhe before me. With my hands I kneaded her ass as I licked away, my tongue digging ferociously inside her. She grabbed my hair and pulled hard. It hurt, but here I was eating out the most gorgeous girl I'd ever seen; who was I to complain? "Oh, fuck, Cecil..." Suddenly I felt a great mass of liquid splash me in the face. Season's tight body grew even tighter and she started screaming maniacally. "Oh my god, I'm cumming...." Despite blowing the load of my life five minutes earlier, I was rock hard again and ready to go. I moved up her body, kissing every station I passed. Her muscular legs tightened around me and we kissed again, this kiss much longer and deeper than the last. My hands began massaging her breasts and my cock finally found her juicy slit. Without any regard, I forced my way in to her vocalized pleasure. I went hog wild. I pounded into her, driving her ass into the mattress, our crotches grinding together and soaking in her sweet nectar. I still tasted it on my tongue, and I loved the taste more than anything. She arched her body into mine to meet up with my hellacious thrusts. "Oh, fuck me harder, baby, oh fuuuuck!!" God, she was so hot. Finally, feeling her taut tummy against mine pushed me over the edge. Her vaginal walls squeezed on my cock like a vacuum and I came like a madman. She bit my lower lip as we kissed and it just enhanced it for me even more. She rolled over so that she was on top of me and bounced on my cock incredibly fast. Finally, a second orgasm gripped her. "Oh fuck, baby, you're so good..." I licked her tits and squeezed her ass as she came in my arms, and then she collapsed. I laid on my back with her on me and stroked her beautiful red hair until it hit me that I had no idea when Danielle or Phil would get back. "Season, wake up." She kissed me, still seemingly in a post orgasmic haze. "You were so good, Cecil," she whispered. "So were you, babe," I whispered back, squeezing her ample ass. "But I gotta go." She kissed me again and I left. From that night until she moved we had a great relationship with the best sex I'd ever had. I still miss Season, because even if Danielle wanted to, I wouldn't even consider fucking her. Ecchhh. Needling to be Kind "Wicked man," she murmured, rubbing her arms as he untied the silken scarves, one by one. "It was not kind to leave me like that." "Do I always need to be kind?" "I suppose not, sir, but equally you do not need to be deliberately callous and neglectful," she pouted and sat up, watching as he moved to free her ankles. "How did this bonding experience leave you?" "Do you mean emotionally, spiritually or physically? "I think all three," he paused and looked up at her frowning face, grinning: "why not, eh?" "That's ambitious." "Well, I am sometimes ambitious," he smiled. "There are worse sins in heaven and earth." "I'm not going to tell you now, " she kicked him gently once he had loosened one ankle. "There's gratitude for you," he sighed and caught her foot, tickling the sole until she squealed. "I should be grateful for being left alone in a dark room, when I had hoped for fantastic lovemaking?" She struggled lightly in his grip, as if barely suppressing a desire to kick him again. "I did not want to disrupt your musing," he excused himself feebly, released her other foot and then held up the scarves teasingly. "Slip a kimono on and let us go and eat in the other room." "I wish that you weren't quite so good at knowing just how far you can go," she complained. "Sometimes you almost seem to be overstepping my boundaries and then you bring me back just before my thoughts start to drift. Did you say something about eating, sir?" "I have had something prepared. Now put this on like a good girl and come to the living room," he smiled and held up the white silk gown for her to slide her arms into. "There, that suits you. You can join me in a cocktail and enlighten me on your pernicious wandering thoughts, girl." "I'm not thinking perniciously at all right now." "Not frustrated at your recent experience?" "No sir. I had a nice sleep." "Well join me anyhow. I have a poured a rather nice vodka and cranberry juice over crushed ice that is calling your name." "Can I just have the juice?" "Good idea -- that way you will taste the fresh lime. By all means pour it virgin." "Who are you calling virgin?" "You are verging on forgiving my little tease, I hope?" "I'll forgive you -- just this once mind." "What will it take for you to forgive me forever?" He laughed and ushered her into the living room. She looked around and observed the crystal glassware on the dining table and the red cocktails that sat on a little table by the sofa. "If you were a true gentleman, then I'd forgive you forever." "Am I not a true gentleman?" "If you were, you would have taken a rose and put it by my place setting, whatever you intend to serve me." "Good lord, she wants star treatment from me as well as an alcohol free cocktail," he murmured as he poured the red juice over crushed ice and added to slithers of lime. "Will her demands never cease?" "Is satisfying my requests such a frightening idea?" "Requests might not work as well as demands." "Not even when I am on my knees, begging," she grinned and sank down onto the fluffy white carpet, spreading her thighs and placing the flat of each palm on them to accentuate the apex between them, justas he had taught her. "Now that works," he remarked and reached down to hand her the tall glass. "That works very well indeed. You really know how to position yourself, don't you?" "I like to help you focus, sir, without having to suck everything out of your cerebrum." "You'll do fine sucking other things." "Then it's pasta night, tonight?" "Only time will tell, but in the meantime your ignorance could be my bliss," he said, walking around her kneeling form and pulling a thin paperback off a bookshelf. "Ignorance is strength - George Orwell -- have you ever read 1984?" "Yes and don't think me completely blissful sir." "Love is hate." "I shall note that later in my things to be noted book, when you let me have my handbag back." "You look fine in my borrowed kimono without any accoutrements. Just commit it to memory for now, girl." "As you wish sir, but I do like to use my notebook to make impressive swirls." He chuckled and pausing as he walked across the thick rug, looked down at her kneeling before the sofa where he was soon to sit. Even from this angle, his mouth watered at the sight. "How do this work? What is the principle behind this notebook?" "You say something interesting and I record it in my book of days." "Good show - well, there is more where that came from." "I am all agog in anticipation, sir." "Which is as it should be!" "Then I am fulfilling your expectations nicely." "Aren't you just. Now, tell me," he asked as he flopped down on the sofa in front of her. "Besides being utterly flippant and spreading yourself wider, when I instruct you to, what is your favourite thing to do? "I like riding and no," she paused, observing him raising his eyebrow,"not just that kind right now. I meant horse riding." "Forgive my lecherous assumption, girl. Sometimes it takes a while to catch up." "It does when you are on foot and I am on my horse." "I always wanted to learn how to do that." "First find yourself a horse, sir." "Very clever girl. My aunt has some. I never got a chance to try them out." "Your cruel aunt slaughtered them all for steak hearing of your equine aspirations?" "No," he said briefly and shut her up by staring hard at her. Her face was suffused with a light blush and she lifted her glass to hide the vague sense of embarrassment at having gone one step too far in her banter. "So, why is riding your favourite thing to do?" He asked and drank down the remnants of his own cocktail, before starting on the one he had originally intended for her. "Because it is freedom personified." "Are you attracted to the freedom that defines authority, or to what challenges authority?" "I am attracted to the elements and nature - blowing the cobwebs from the mind." "Answer my question specifically." "Well, I like to push at the edges of authority to test the boundaries." "I had noticed this. Do you do it to see if the authority in question is worthy of leading you?" "I suppose so, but I notice that you are returning to your habitual imperialist mind-set." "Wasn't that your destiny in the cards today?" She shrugged. "It was in mine," He determined and leant to one side to pick up a leather bound hardback from the table by the sofa. "Did you know that the Baroque period was the height of imperial mind-set?" "No. I didn't." "You can for example cite Thomas Hobbes or the actions of Louis the 14th." "Was one of them the man who Baroque the bank at Monte Carlo?" He stared at her, looking slightly puzzled and then frowning a little. It was not the light smile that she had hoped to encourage. In fact his regard flustered her a little. She bit her lip and remembered to remember her place next time. "Do continue," she cajoled, kneeling up closer and resting her hand on his thigh. "Please ignore my facile quips." "You always like to push at the edges, don't you, girl?" "If I catch you napping, sir, I will bury inoffensive mines in your path." "I shall try to avoid power naps then." "What is a power nap sir?" "I drink three shots of espresso. Then I sleep for 30 minutes and when I wake up..." "...Your mouth tastes like a coffee grinder?" "No. I have the benefits of 30 minutes of nap time plus caffeine. That's what I do if I am on the fly with no time to stop. It ensures I keep the pace up. Now let's dine." "Is it linguini time, sir?" "No, it's time to live well. Get up. I don't intend to feed you on the floor." He clapped his hands and a man-servant swept into the room carrying aromatic and appetising foodstuffs on various plates. "I would have done it myself," he shrugged and pulled out a chair for her. "...but you were all out of pasta?" "No, my cooking is crapulous. And will you give over with the pasta-quips." She laughed at his honesty and settled down in her chair, smiling to see that the man-servant had deposited a red rose by her plate. She picked up the cutlery and began to carve the chicken a la creme before her. "I have a question, girl." "Feel free sir. You question. I shall eat." "Tell me about a time when you really felt in love, or attracted to someone. What is it that you most remembered about this? What you saw, how you felt or the things you heard." "Butterflies" "Butterflies in your stomach or were they literal butterflies?" "Both: we etymologised in the Lake District after the daffodils, but before the cornflowers." "What is more emotional for you, the visual scene of butterflies, or the adrenaline in your stomach?" "The latter of course - the butterflies in the air were a material realisation of feelings - to me - though I'm sure that they had a purpose of their own." "So you would most remember the feeling first, then the visual scene next?" "Yes," she confirmed, speared a final piece of asparagus, wiped it in the remains of the sauce and devoured it. "And what thirdly?" "The sounds," she paused and wiped her mouth. "I do so love real napkins, sir." "You and your linen fetishes." "You accommodate them well," she shrugged. "What sounds?" "The sounds of the breeze and the water slapping the banks." "And what happened between you and this person?" "I will tell you a tale of our lingering aound the lake of my dreams when you have provided the coffee to complete this delicious repast, sir," she grinned and pinched the skin on the back of his hand, "so you had better have your 'Passpartout' come back and do our bidding, if you want to discover all." "You are a wicked and demanding woman," he murmured, taking hold of her hand and squeezing each finger, one by one. "It is not kind to leave me on the edge like this." "Do I always need to be kind, sir?"