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Unlike moronic, messy men, Kyah is still a mystery to me. I need to know more about her, need to get closer, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
She talks on her phone and stops outside her apartment complex, and I keep walking, taking advantage of her moment of distraction. As she hashes in the front door code for her building, my gaze shifts over the keypad.
3821
I’ve known this code for weeks, yet every time I watch her hash it in, I can’t help but watch. It’s like a thrill, a dark secret between me and Kyah, something she shares with me every time she touches the keypad. If only she knew.
I keep walking, not wanting to draw her attention, and the second she disappears inside her building, I cross the road before doubling back and pausing in front of the building directly opposite of hers. I lean up against the wall, my foot propped up with my phone pressed against my ear, looking like every other asshole lingering out on the street.
My gaze lifts to Kyah’s building, impatience brimming through my chest as I wait. Then finally, a light turns on in the bedroom window on the right-hand side of the third floor.
Kyah walks in front of the window, her blinds left open, and I watch as she peels off her black tank and tosses it across the room. She kicks off her shoes and then her jeans, leaving her in nothing but a bra and panties.
My mouth waters.
I need to get inside that apartment and taste her.
As she moves through her apartment, other lights turn on, but all of the other windows are concealed with blinds. It leaves me wondering if she likes putting on a show in her bedroom, or if this was nothing more than a moment of forgetfulness. Had she known there was a view right into her bedroom from the street below, would she have closed the blinds or does she assume she’s too far up for anyone to see her undressing?
She’s careless, and when she belongs to me, that shit isn’t going to fly. But for now, I’ll sit back and watch as though she were one of those ping-pong girls putting on an exotic show in Bangkok. God, the good things in life really are free. Apart from the entry fee, of course. That shit doesn’t count, but for that kind of talent, those showgirls deserve to be paid.
Sidebar. How does a woman just happen to stumble across the realization that she can do something like that?
The lights turn off inside Kyah’s apartment, and I force myself to focus. It’s been almost an hour since she arrived home, and I cross the road before slipping down the narrow alley beside her building. Then finding the fire escape, I make my way up like a ninja in the night.
Lingering outside the window of her apartment, I peer right into her living room like some kind of stalker, and make sure everything is quiet inside before gripping the window frame and effortlessly sliding back, a twisted smirk stretching across my lips.
Silly girl leaving her window unlocked. Doesn’t she know how dangerous that could be?
Slipping inside, I move around her apartment, and the closer I get to her bedroom, the more I can smell that sweet summer breeze. She’s so enticing, like forbidden fruit made just for me, teasing me, begging me to come and take a bite. And when the time is right, I will.
Her apartment is small, but that’s expected for a one-bedroom in Brooklyn, but she clearly looks after it. She puts care into how she dresses the place and mostly cleans up after herself. I appreciate that in a woman.
Stepping into her bedroom, I hear the subtle sound of her even breathing, and it takes hold of me like a hand plunging right into my soul. I close my eyes, resting back against her bedroom wall, and just listen, but it quickly becomes too much. Before I know it, the soft sound of my fly being pulled down fills the room.
My heavy, straining cock falls into my hand, and as I close my fist around it, squeezing tight, I open my eyes, needing to look at that sweet face. I stride toward her, and as my fist starts working up and down my cock, I come to a stop right by her head feeling the soft brush of her breath blowing against my bare skin.
My whole body shudders, and I grip her headboard so I can lean a little closer, and with her face barely a breath away, I go to fucking town. I picture her so perfectly, the way those full, pink lips would close around me, sucking me hard. Fuck, I need her more than anything.
“My sweet, Kyah,” I whisper into the darkened room, my grip tightening on my cock before finally coming hard right into the palm of my fucking hand like a goddamn teenager. My body stiffens, paralyzed by the intensity, and my knees shake.
Good God. That was good.
Then with a palm full of hot cum, I reach down with a closed fist and gently run the back of my knuckles over her bottom lip so softly that she doesn’t even stir. “Soon, Kyah. Soon,” I tell her before tucking my cock back into my pants and finally leaving her room.
Moving into her bathroom, I go to wash the pool of cum out of my hand when I find a pair of black cotton panties lying on the ground. I recognize them as the ones I saw her wearing earlier through her bedroom window, and I can’t help scooping them up and holding them to my face.
I inhale deeply, and I groan, immediately growing hard again.
So fucking sweet, just as I knew she would be. Then after wiping my hand in her worn panties, I prop them up on the bathroom vanity, waiting for her when she wakes, the sweetest gift I’ve ever left.
3
KYAH
Mysixa.m.alarmscreeches through my bedroom, and I groan, throwing my hand out and scrambling for my phone to turn it off. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard. What the hell was I thinking when I set it this early?
On my way home from work last night, I had the brilliant idea to start working out. I was going to go for early morning runs and start a Pilates routine. I’ve always been in love with my body. I’m one of thoselove the body you’re inkinda girls, but damn, I’d kill to look like one of those gym girls with the dump truck ass and the toned stomach, but now that the sun is streaming in through my bedroom window, I don’t know how badly I actually want it.
