The apartment was a simple upper west side Manhattan home. It looked out onto 96th street and was bordered with Central park west and Riverside park. From the outside, the apartments were painted white with its detailed architecture delicately covered in ivy that was crawling its way up the walls and arching over the curves of the doorways. The natural greenness on the white washed walls gave the apartments a fresh tranquil look, even for New York.
I paced the living room of the apartment waiting for the new resident to show. I was to give a quick tour and hand over the keys to them and then report back to my friend who owned the building and to who I owed the favour as they were out of town.
The place was ready furnished with classical and glamorous furnishings and painted in creams; white and gold's with prints of good art adorning the walls. I quickly checked my appearance in the gold gilded mirror above the marble fire place. In a word, the only way to describe me would be dashing. My coal black hair is always swept back out of my cerulean blue eyes and I am only ever to be seen in a tailored grey suit as I am a hard working business man. I am tanned from business trips abroad and I have high cheekbones and a great jawline. I take care of my body and have achieved the toned, healthy and athletic look.
I pace the entryway waiting for the new resident, checking my Omega watch every minute or so. With a name like Emerson, this guy is going to be a wealthy, upper class, mother's boy who probably hasn't worked a day in their life, gone to college just to mess around and have their trust fund or fathers business handed to them on a plate. Unlike me, who has worked hard all my life for something I never thought I would ever achieve in my lifetime or even at my young age, 27.
They were supposed to be here at nine and they are ten minutes late. I detest late people. I'm not a tolerant person when it comes to time. I have so little of it which is mostly consumed by lengthy meetings and business trips and as I am already doing something which I have no time for I find this person's lack of time keeping annoying and selfish. Suddenly there is a polite knock at the door and I open the black glossy apartment door.
"Hi! I'm Emerson. Are you Jasper?"
Suddenly I'm paralysed, paralysed with an anxiety and sudden self-consciousness that only a woman can give a man, that I haven't felt since I was fifteen and started to admire girls. Standing in the marble hallway, radiating sex appeal and a charm that all confident women seem to possess is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen; a young woman, of about 24, stands before me with long, glossy, chestnut brown hair swept back into a casual but neat ponytail. She has a symmetrical heart shaped face with perfect features: A button nose, prominent cheekbones, big moss-green eyes lined with a set of thick black lashes. Her eyebrows are perfectly groomed and her large lips are widened into a sparkling, confident, white smile. She looks intelligent and professional, wearing a crisp white blouse that does wonders for her brown tan, a fitted grey blazer and black tailored pants that frame her slender hips and legs which are topped off with a pair of extremely high, black Christian Louboutin heels.
She hugs an Ipad to her ample chest, which I can visibly see past the buttoned down shirt, and wears a delicate silver necklace that looks like a collection from Tiffanys, two small diamond studs sit on her earlobes and on her arm hangs a giant patent Prada bag.
I drink her in, the scent of her sweet floral Chanel perfume, the flecks of gold that seem to swim in her green eyes and her perfectly manicured nails. Nothing turns me on more than an intelligent and well groomed woman and this wonderful creature is the most impeccable I have ever seen. Her melodic voice snaps me out of my reverie.
"I am so sorry I'm late! Manhattan traffic, nothing I could do! And then finding the building, hard work in these heels I tell you. I have never felt so unorganised in my life." She winks at me and I feel myself stir. Fuck. I haven't spoken since she arrived. Women never lead me off track. Usually I like it to be me who makes them speechless but shit. This girl has been here five minutes and I'm fucked.
"No problem," I say giving her my crooked grin. "Jasper, Jasper Bloom. Come on in I'll show you around." I shake her hand. I see there's no engagement ring and smile as I take her small soft hand in mine. I can't believe I thought it was going to be a guy. Best turn out.
As I turn around to welcome her inside her new home I notice her eyes flick up to the glint of the gold numbers: 153 above the peep hole on the black lacquer door. I lead her into the hallway and show her the living room, dining room, small study, bathroom, 2 spacious bedrooms, a master bedroom complete with en-suite and finally the kitchen.
We make small talk as we tour the apartment. Asking where she's from, why the move, jobs and weather but I'm not really paying attention. Just agreeing and subtly staring at her perfect ass whenever she bends over to inspect cupboards and drawers. The sight of her when she sat on her knees checking a drawer sent my cock into a frenzy.
From above I could see down her shirt at her two flawless tits perched high on her chest framed in a provocative lace bralet. God, I wanted nothing more than to rip open that shirt, exposing her tanned flesh, to have her kneel in front of me, delving into my pants to attain my erection. As she talked I fantasized like a high school boy about how her soft hands would feel as she held my cock. What her velvet tongue would do as it swirled up and down my length, how I would hold her pretty little head as she fucked my cock with her satin mouth.
I feel my erection growing as she stops inspecting and stands up in front of me. Once again, snapping me out of my fantasy.
"The place is great. Perfect for what I need." She pats her knees to discard any dust and procures her Ipad and bag. "I will be moving in later today after work. Is it okay if give the moving guys the key? They can unpack for me whilst I'm at work"
"That's fine." I say as we make our way to the entry hall. "I live two blocks away, in one of Mr Devon's other apartments. Well, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes so here's your key. And here's my card if you have any questions or need any help. If so I will call a repair man. As Mr Devon is away I will be your Landlord I guess." I smile and wink at her as I head out of the front door.
"Thank you Mr Bloom," She's smiles sweetly as she tucks my card in a fold in her bag and clutches her new set of silver keys. "I'll bear that in mind if I find I'm not able to ring myself. I'm a big girl y'know. It was nice to meet you Mr Bloom" and shut the door in my face.
Fuck. I stand outside the black doors in the marble stairwell dazed. That was abrupt. I think maybe I came across as arrogant and assumed that she was a helpless city girl but this woman is different. So in control and poised. Fuck that's hot I think to myself as I jog down the spiral staircase into the foyer. She is perfect and suddenly I am thinking of how I can see her again and decide to call my friend and this new tenant's real landlord.
"Harvey Devon" He answers on the second ring.
"Harvey! Hey man! I just met your new resident."
"Oh yeah what are they like?"
"You didn't tell me in was a chick. I thought it was gonna be some prissy rich boy. Fuck Harv, she's hot, I mean Victoria's Secret hot."
"Aw fuck. It's always when I'm away. You cannot fuck her man, I mean I have been trying to rent that place for ages and I don't want you to screw that up."
"Haha oh Harv," I chuckle, "you know I can't promise that." I hang up grinning. I need to think of a way to go back there without it looking like I think she needs help. I hail a cab and set off for my meeting, distracted for the rest of the day as this perfect woman and her perfect ass keeps popping up into my mind.
***
Around eight o'clock I find myself in the King Cole bar at the St. Regis with a few businessmen, drinking scotch and inquiring about new deals and exchanging details on Ipads and Iphones when I see a familiar figure sat in a gilded, barstool from the corner of my eye. I can't believe it. There she is, miss controlled and perfectly groomed sat sipping a famous Bloody Mary.
"Well well Miss Kitt. How lucky am I to have the pleasure of meeting you twice in one day." She smiles at her drink, which she is seductively running a finger around the edges, when she hears my voice and slowly looks up at me from under those long black lashes as I sit next to her.