Author's note: This is the second part of a five part novella. Each chapter is devoted to a different category of erotica: i.e. lesbian, group, interracial, BDSM, exhibitionism/voyeur (in that order). Although the five parts constitute a complete story I have tried to write each chapter so it could be enjoyed stand-alone as well (although I prefer you read the whole thing of course). I will post each chapter about a week apart. Enjoy!
Paige and Marie reluctantly untangled their bodies and dragged themselves from the bed. Their limbs were feeble with after-sex rubberiness; their minds were giddy. They had to support each other as they made their unsteady, giggling way to Paige's bathroom.
They made love again in the shower. Afterwards, they made love in Paige's easy chair, then on the counter in the kitchen and, finally, in bed again. At last they collapsed, exhausted and panting in the sex-infused air, pledging to reignite their passion as soon as they caught their breaths. But when Paige woke hours later with the weak light from the alley seeping in through her bedroom window, Marie was gone.
It was nearly eleven in the morning. Paige got up and poked around the apartment, checking to see if Marie was really gone. She found a note taped to the bathroom mirror, written in loopy, oversized handwriting. It said: "Sorry to play Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma'am but I have someplace I need 2 B this AM. I had a GREAT time!!! We should TOTALLY do it again. Call me! Luv – M." At the bottom of the note, she had drawn a happy face with its tongue out.
One of Marie's business cards was tucked into the frame of the mirror. It said: "Marie MacDougall - Human Resources: Special Projects – Oreskos Incorporated." Then it listed Marie's phone numbers and email. Paige happily kissed the card and tucked it safely into her purse. She carefully folded the note, put it in an envelope and put the envelope in the drawer of her night stand, next to her vibrator.
She drifted around her apartment in a confused but pleasant daze. "I had sex with a woman," she said aloud to herself several times, each time with a different emotion: confused, amazed, panicked, proud. She wanted to call someone. She wanted to tell someone about her amazing night in lengthy and vivid detail but she trembled at the idea of revealing she was now, apparently, bi-sexual. She sat down at her laptop and wrote down everything she could recall, not skimping on any lurid, pornographic detail in an attempt to purge her confusion. It a way, it worked. An aching horniness took its place.
How different this Saturday morning was from a week ago, after her night with Doug. That night had begun with a bunch of people from her department taking her out to celebrate her first full week back at work after her long, near-fatal illness. Somehow Doug ended up with their group. He kept buying her wine. He kept telling her how pretty she was. Paige, stupid, lonely fool that she was, ate it up like a hungry puppy. When he suggested they go back to his apartment she had agreed.
He had been all over her the second they walked through the door. She hadn't resisted. He'd fucked her on the couch, throwing her down, pulling her clothes off and climbing onto her. She'd climaxed embarrassingly easy. He repositioned her; taking her from behind; then putting her on his lap and pushing his cock up inside her as he fondled her breasts; then he had her on her side as he clutched her leg to his chest and sucked her toes. She had come and come and come.
Then he had started playing with her butt, rubbing slick, chilly gel into her tender pucker, prying her open as he whispered gentle encouragements to her. Her panic began to rise but she was determined to be a good sport. As he slowly fed his huge cock into her bottom she had grimaced and moaned but, she had to admit, it felt good in a sick way. But he too had already come several times by then and he ended up doing her ass for a long, long time. Too long. When he fell asleep immediately afterwards, Paige gathered up her stuff and slipped away, her ass growing sorer by the minute and her knees and elbows seared from rug burn.
There had been no happy glow the morning after
that
night, only pain and shame. However, her lust was now so inflamed from dwelling on her night with the petite Asian firecracker that was Marie MacDougall that she was almost ready to call Doug and give him another chance.
But no. She knew she wasn't thinking clearly. She needed to calm her mind. Some exercise would be good. She would walk the stairs.
She got together her usual gear for her stair-walking regimen: sneakers, tee-shirt, sweatpants, a twisty to gather her hair into a ponytail, her can of mace and her police whistle. She looked at herself in the full length mirror before leaving the apartment. Staring back was the now-familiar skinny stranger's head poking up out of her baggy old pre-illness fat-clothes. She sighed, wishing she'd taken the time to buy herself some cute little shorts and a maybe a tight tank-top. But then she thought of those two rude boys following her and Marie down the sidewalk last night. She shuddered. Why invite trouble?
"
Pathetic
," she said to her reflection before she turned to leave. She grabbed her phone and slammed the door on the way out.
Out in the hall, a pretty, dark-skinned black girl with a triangular face and a short afro was standing outside the elevators talking on her phone. She glanced at Paige, carefully checking her out before turning away.
Paige put in her earbuds, plugged them into her phone and pulled up one of her favorite albums for exercising – The Avalanches, it had a great tempo - as she headed down the hall to the nearest stair door. Before entering the stairs she threw another look at the pretty black girl by the elevators. She caught the other woman staring right at her. Paige hadn't hit play yet so she heard the woman say: "No, the
west
one... Right
now
."
As Paige pushed though the door she paused to consider: was this stairwell the west one? In fact it was, she realized. That girl wasn't taking about her, was she? Paige shook her head. That's silly. She was just being paranoid.
Paige began her usual route: up to the always-locked roof access door then down the always-locked sub-basement access door: eleven stories, repeated twice. Her thighs ached a little after last night's energetic frolic but she pushed on, letting the pain focus her mind as it pulsed through her.
Descending now, her calves protested as she bounced down one step at a time. She had hit her rhythm, the balls of her feet hitting the steps in time with the music, and had just passed the door for the sixth floor when a whiff of cannabis smoke reached her. Nervous, she stopped as she hit the landing. There below her, just inside the door for the fifth floor, were two men passing a joint between them. They looked up at her sheepishly.
Paige's first thought surprised her.
I wish I'd worn shorts.
They were about her age or maybe a little older; early thirties, tops. One had dark hair, dark eyes and bushy eyebrows that obviously required regular maintenance to keep it from becoming a single brow. The other was a dirty blond with sleepy eyes and a deep cleft in his chin. Both wore sleeveless tee-shirts and cargo shorts. Both had thick necks and meaty arms decorated with an assortment of tribal tattoos.
"Oh!" said Paige.
The dark haired guy hid the joint behind his back and coughed out a dense cloud of smoke. The blond guy merely said: "Oh shit."
"I don't mean to cause any trouble," said Paige hurriedly.
"You sure?" grinned the blond guy as the dark guy continued coughing. "You look like a troublemaker to me."
Paige retreated one step while reaching into her pocket for her mace. "I was just getting some exercise..."
The dark one barked out one last cough. "You go all the way up and down?" he asked mildly as he looked her over with watery eyes.
"Um, yeah. Four reps," she said, lying.
"That's pretty tight," said the blond. "I bet you have some great definition in those legs, huh?"
"Shit dude, can't you see we've already made her nervous. Don't fuckin' ogle her."
"Sorry lady. I didn't mean nothin' by that."
"Oh, it's OK. I'm just not used to finding company in here." Paige relaxed. The guys didn't seem like predators, just harmless stoner-jocks.
