My name is John Anders and I work at the firm of Gross and Lender, Architects, here in Chicago. At 25, I was a junior member of the firm. And, at 25 I had a strong sex drive, which, luckily, coincided with the sex drive of Bunny Alwen, another member of the firm.
Since she still lived at home with her parents, all of our meetings were at my apartment. She had convinced her parents that the four or five nights we got together, she was working overtime. From her vocalizations when she would cum, it did sound like work, especially when I 'went down' on her.
I had been lucky to find this small apartment in a building just off the loop. We used it for our trysts instead of getting a hotel room. That is, until about a month ago when Bunny was suddenly transferred to the company's Los Angeles office, together with a promotion. Since then I had become married to my right hand, while hoping to make another connection.
Things changed for the better on Saturday. As I was leaving my apartment to go out to do some grocery shopping, I bumped into my next door neighbor, Mrs. Swenson. She was just returning from picking up her mail from the boxes in the lobby.
Mrs. Swenson is a widow, her husband having died of a heart attack just about the time I had moved in. I judged her to be about fifty years old, although about the only thing that indicated her age is her graying hair, which she wears fairly close cropped. She is tall, about five foot seven or eight, slender but with a nice figure from what I could see; Mrs. Swenson always seems to be dressed in quite baggy clothing.
"Good morning, Mr. Anders, how are you," she greeted me, with a smile. "Where are you off to?"
"Good morning to you,"I replied. "Just going to do a little food shopping." Then added, "Is there any thing you need from the store while I'm out?"
"Oh, how nice. Yes, I need a quart of regular milk if you'll be so kind. It'll save me a trip."
"No problem, if you don't need it right away. I plan on stopping for lunch first, then do the shopping. I should be back about two if you can wait that long."
"That'll be fine. I really don't need it till tonight. I really appreciate this."
After a leisurely lunch, I went to the grocery store and spent almost an hour going up and down the aisles, filling my cart from the list I had made out the night before, almost forgetting, till the last minute, the milk she had requested.
Arriving back at the apartment house, I stopped outside Mrs. Swenson's door, knocking loudly. When she opened the door, I said, playfully, "Delivery man, madam, I have your milk as ordered."
She laughed as she took the carton from me. "Thank you so much, Mr. delivery man. Would you care to step inside for a cup of coffee?"
"Gee, thanks, but no, I've got a lot of stuff to put away," I said, indicating the plastic bags I had toted up from my car.
"Why don't you go put your food away, then come back. I haven't had any company for quite a while and I'd love to chat with someone."
I really couldn't refuse her plea, for that's what it sounded like. "Okay, I'd love to have a cup of coffee. Just let me put this stuff away, then I'll come back. Shouldn't take too long."
"Good! I'll leave the door unlocked. Just knock and come in."
I spent about twenty minutes, storing all the things I had purchased, then about five minutes jacking off. I had to relieve the pressure that had built up in my balls; not unusual for me. Then, after washing the cum off my hand, went next door.
I knocked and opened the door and walked in. The layout of her apartment was a mirror image of my own but there the similarity ended. Mrs. Swenson's wall displayed several large paintings hung against bright wallpaper. My walls were just painted with only a few small pictures hung randomly. Her livingroom was furnished with a couple of overstuffed chairs and a matching love seat and an oriental rug gracing the floor. The front window had nice lace curtains and drapes that matched the wallpaper. Mine had only a bare tiled floor, a couch, a beanbag chair and a TV, and my front window had only a roll-up shade.
Her dining area had a nice wood dining table, four chairs and a glass cabinet, displaying chinaware. In mine was a Formica topped table and two chairs, period. It was all I needed, but, compared to her apartment, was a very cold place. After all, most of my activities had always been centered in the bedroom.
"Oh, I'm so glad you came back," she said as I closed the door behind me. "Just give me a minute to pour our coffee. We can sit there at the table." I had noticed that she had put placemats at opposite sides of the table, to protect the polished wood surface.
When she brought the two cups to the table, I held out her chair for her. "Oh, thank you," she muttered as she sat down. "You're quite the gentleman." I went around the table to sit across from her. The coffee was good and hot and strong, just the way I liked it.
We chatted for several minutes about mundane things, other residents, the weather and just stuff in general, then fell silent for a while. Mrs. Swenson got up to refill our cups and then, sitting back down, said, "I haven't heard your girl friend for a while. Have you two broken up?"
"Uh, no., Mrs. Swenson, Bunny got transferred to the West coast. I haven't heard anything from her but I guess she's doing okay. She's a smart gal." Then, suddenly realized that Mrs. Swenson's bedroom backed right up against mine and she had probably heard Bunny's squeals and cries when we fucked. I could feel my face turn red.
Mrs. Swenson began to laugh at my embarrassment. "Don't be so embarrassed, young man. And please don't call me 'Mrs. Swenson'. My name is Antoinette, Toni for short. You must have made your Bunny very happy, from what I could hear, Mr. Anders. And quite often, too."
I looked at her and said, "Of course, Bunny made me very happy too. But I tend to be quiet about it. And, you can call me John."
Okay, John it is, though I might slip once in a while and call you Johnny, if you don't mind."
We were quiet for a while as we continued to sip our coffee, I figured the subject of Bunny and me had died. Then, out of the blue, Toni asked, "Have you ever heard that old saying about older women, you know, the one that goes, 'they don't yell, they don't swell and, they're grateful as hell'?"
My mouth fell open as I gazed at her. My god, she was practically asking for me to fuck her! After a few seconds I regained some composure. This time it was she who averted her eyes as I asked, "Do you want to fuck, Mrs. uh...Toni?" She muttered something I couldn't quite hear. "What did you say?"
With her eyes still fixed on the cup in front of her, her face turning as red as mine had been, answered louder, "Yes, but only if you want to."
My cock, which had begun twitching during our previous conversation, leapt to full erection. I reached under the table to unzip my jeans and as I stood up, pulled it out into the open. "Does that answer your question?"
