Lucky Neighbor

by Gage Grayson

  We’re clasped together in an embrace that neither of us wants to break free from. I’m pounding into her, and she’s getting tighter around me. I lean down and kiss her beautiful lips, and at that moment, I know there’s no more holding back.

  I gasp and pump my seed right into her, and it mingles with her own essence.

  Our lips are interlocked, and both of us are just kissing each other and trying to understand this strange connection that’s taken over both of our rational minds.

  I’m coming hard, and I’m practically in the cosmos.

  So is she, I think. I can’t tell anymore whether she’s in the middle of an orgasm or just building up for another one. Women are so fucking lucky.

  We hold each other and kiss like that for a long time. With our embrace, we’re saying everything that words can’t express.

  Through the tender way our lips engage, we’re saying all the unspoken things that can’t yet come to light but have been brewing just under the surface.

  We care for each other.

  At least, I believe we do. I don’t know for sure that she cares about me beyond just the length of my cock, but I can’t imagine her being like this with any other guy. What we have is unique, and for me to be saying that…well, it should tell you a lot.

  In a normal situation, I’d be cleaning up by now and trying to usher myself out of the door. But instead, I feel comfortable here in Katy’s apartment. I feel like it’s where I’m meant to be. Wherever she is, is where I’m most at home.

  When I’m not with her, my thoughts are about her. I constantly wonder what she’s doing and if she’s safe. I might be possessive, yes, but it’s only because I care.

  She finally pulls away from my lingering kiss and says, “That was so good. Am I right? That was the best you’ve ever had, wasn’t it?”

  I slide out of her at last but lean down for one more kiss. The taste of her is erotic.

  “Yes, baby, that was fucking good.”

  She gets up, and I watch her delightful, heart-shaped ass go to the refrigerator. She gets us a couple of beers. And good thing, too, because the cool liquid is the perfect antidote to squelch my beating heart still on fire with lust for Katy.

  She sits down next to me on the bed, naked. I look at her and just enjoy the sight of her beautiful body set against the austere apartment.

  She’s beautiful. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever known. And I’m so happy that I get to be the one to fuck her.

  She cracks open our beers and says, “To us.”

  We clink bottles, and I take a long sip of the Heineken.

  I lean back against the many soft pillows that line her headboard. And then I say, “Katy, I just don’t understand you. You have absolutely no furniture or decor of any kind, and yet your bedding is top-of-the-line. What’s with that?”

  She laughs at my statement, and I take in the moment to see the way she lights up. I would do anything to make her happy, to see that smile flash across her elegant face again and again.

  “You noticed,” she says. “I just have a thing for bedding. I can’t sleep unless I’m super comfortable. I like to feel like I’m floating on a cloud.”

  She’s right about that, for sure. I can tell the sheets are at least a thousand dollars. They mimic the ones I have in my penthouse.

  I’m thinking this cash comes from her hacking jobs, but I can’t help but wonder that, if she steals so much money, why is she not living in a greater state of luxury?

  I think about what happened today, going to that poor part of town with her, and I realize that to Katy, money just doesn’t matter.

  Except when it comes to sheets, that is.

  I love that she seems to know and understand the real side of life. Nothing about her is phony or fake.

  She’s a far cry from the women I meet, the models and actresses who are out and about at the clubs of New York. It’s a totally different scene from the women painted and plucked, wearing the latest fashion, thinking that the superficial bullshit is the best part of life.

  That’s not the way I see it, and I can tell it’s not even close to the way Katy does.

  Maybe it’s the fact that she hasn’t yet revealed her true identity to me. In fact, I’m not sure she ever will. That’s a conversation for another day.

  But I know that Katy has substance and that she can hold a conversation―and to me, right now, all that combined with her impeccable beauty is the perfect potion for me to fall in love.

  Chapter 23

  Katy

  Marcus is lying on the soft pillows that adorn my bed.

  I’m glad that at least someone besides myself can enjoy them.

  He’s taken notice of the fact that they’re about the only glamorous thing in my apartment. Besides my high-tech computer set up, I’ve got bedding and…that’s about it.

  Of course, I can’t reveal the reason why. How could I ever tell him the truth? What would I say?

  Hey Marcus, I’m a hacker. I steal millions of dollars from big banks and financial corporations. I don’t have any stuff because I’m always on the edge of my seat wondering if I’m going to need to run away.

  If I told him that, it would be the fastest way to get him out of my life. People are always afraid of my truth. I found that out the hard way.

  When I even try to mention what I do to someone, obviously omitting the fact that I’m a burglar, they often run.

  People don’t understand my life, and that’s fine. It’s fine because I know in the end, I’m helping a lot of people by donating to organizations that need the funds. It’s my mission in life to help people who are less fortunate like I was.

  The fact that I grew up so poor without a family never escapes me for one day.

  When I see a father hold his daughter, I get jealous because I didn’t have that. When I see a mother doting on her children, I feel envious because I didn’t have that. When people talk about going home for the holidays and being together on Christmas, I feel left out because I have nothing of the sort.

  Being so different from most of society makes one build certain walls of comfort. I know who I am, and I know that I can always take care of myself. These are my walls.

  I know that I can’t be with one person or in one place for too long because I might get in trouble with the cops. These are my boundaries.

  I know that I’m a loner and that it will always be this way. This is my truth.

  While Marcus is attempting to scale my walls and to break them down, I’m trying to be sure at every turn that he never quite gets into my heart. To let him do so would mean a tragic fate.

  He might turn me into the cops or simply turn away because I’m too much for him, too complicated.

  Marcus lies back on my bed as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s moments like these that make me wish for a normal life. I wish this could be our reality every single day.

  But I have to push these thoughts from my mind and just enjoy Marcus for the time that I have him.

  I take a swig of my beer, and it goes down my throat nicely. The beverage is starting to bring me back to life.

  “You know, I nearly passed out there for a second. I was seeing stars,” I say to him.

  He looks at me happily and says, “I know. That was kind of the point.”

  “You know you’re fucking amazing in bed, right?” I ask.

  He’s got a smug expression on his face like he does know. There’s a cocky side to Marcus for sure. I know he’s a playboy, but I just don’t understand how that fits into his activist lifestyle. How does he manage such disparate worlds?

  “You’re pretty amazing yourself,” he says to me.

  I laugh at his honesty and candor.

  I don’t say, however, that I’m amazing only because of him. He brings it out of me. He’s so fucking hot that somehow I’ve become a vixen when I’m with him.

  All I want is sex. All I need is him.

  It makes me wish again and again that this l
ove affair could last, but alas, today is all we have.

  With that in mind, I decide to make the most of this day. I get in between his legs and start to go down on him, ensuring that he’ll get nice and hard for me again.

  It doesn’t take long for his hot cock to harden. He’s got the stamina of a fucking bull. I suck the tip of his cock and encircle the bottom part with my hand.

  He sighs heavily and enjoys what I’m doing. I want him so badly that I find myself cupping his balls in my hand and massaging them. I suck and tease, taunt and lick his cock until it’s so hard that I know I won’t be able to hold back for another second.

  I climb on top of him and slowly insert his cock inside of me. I let it go in inch by inch instead of all at once. He’s too big to take all at once.

  And that’s definitely part of the appeal.

  Luckily, I’ve got him nice and wet with spit so that I’m able to slide on top of his cock fairly easily.

  From my vantage point, he looks like a rugged model taken straight from the runway―except he’s quite a bit larger than your typical model. His muscles and strength appeal to me. I watch his abs ripple and move as I start to ride him gently.

  I make eye contact with him the entire time, and it’s fucking hot. To be staring at him, the man I’m falling for, who returns my gaze with such intensity, is a rare thing.

  We have this connection that neither of us will talk about, but both of us feel. I know he doesn’t fuck every girl the way he fucks me. I’m sure of it.

  I circle my hips so that I can feel his cock against every part of me. And then I clench down and ride him really hard. His cock is sliding against my G-spot, and swirls of pleasure start to radiate throughout my body.

  He looks at me with a sense of awe. He seems entranced by me from this angle.

  It’s exactly what I want. I want him to admire my body and my perfect tits.

  He starts to finger my magic button, and electricity shoots out of me as pulsing, warm radiation continues to flow from my G-spot. It’s all working well together, a beautiful combination for the most intense orgasm.

  “Katy, you look so hot from this angle. Your tits are fucking great,” he says, looking up at me.

  I tilt my hips and find the perfect place for his cock to hit inside of me. He grabs my hips and pulls me down to him even deeper. I didn’t think I could take in any more of him, but apparently, it’s possible.

  I slow my motion to draw out the pleasure. And then I start cupping and massaging my tits because I know he’ll love it. I’m rotating around his huge giant cock while twisting my nipples and looking at him seductively, trying to translate how I feel.

  When I do this, it turns him on so much that he grabs me by the waist and pulls up. Our lips meet and we’re held together in a tantalizing kiss. His tongue and taste is telling me everything I need to know about our connection.

  He takes control and makes sure I slide up and down his cock at a nice rhythm. He forces me to go slow at first, and then he speeds up my motion, meeting me in the middle so that we’re fucking hard.

  He whispers in my ear, “You’re mine. If you think you’re ever going to be with another man, you’re mistaken.”

  I love the words that he says, but in the back of my mind, I’m wondering how true it can be. Does he care about me? Or is this the kind of ploy he uses in bed with all his women?

  I don’t have time to question him much further because he’s pumping his essence into me and just the thought of that makes me come around his cock so hard. I cry out and hold his neck for support.

  He’s kissing my tits and making the most of his own orgasm. For the time being, we’re united in both of our bliss. I’ve never come this hard in my life.

  I felt things in my body today that I didn’t know were possible. He did all of that to me. He brought it all out of me.

  And inside, I feel a nagging sense of despair, even as he pumps the final remnants of his essence into me. I know that ultimately, this can’t last.

  This happiness is not for me. I am destined to go through life alone, and while the thought is depressing, I’ve also resigned myself to my fate.

  I pull off of him, and we’re both breathing heavily as we lie next to each other on my soft bedding.

  Without a word, he hands me his beer and I take it. It tastes so good. It does something to calm my beating heart.

  I hand it back to him, and he finishes it off, and then we both just lie back and think about the intensity of what’s just happened.

  Chapter 24

  Marcus

  I wake up with Katy in my arms and enjoy the indulgent feeling of being in her bed.

  She sleeps softly in my arms, and for a moment, I just gaze as the midmorning light hits her pale skin.

  Midmorning…fuck.

  I realize I’m late for a meeting―a very big meeting.

  I wake up Katy, who’s still naked under the sheets. It takes every inch of willpower I have not to spread her wide and to fuck her right here.

  She’s addicting.

  I know I have to go, so I summon my willpower and whisper in her ear, “Baby, I’m sorry to leave, but I have to go. Talk soon.”

  She rolls over, and I take in the sight of her gorgeous, thin body. It will fuel my fantasies for the rest of the day.

  I kiss her, and she pulls me close―but I have to pull away. It’s times like these that I wish we were in my penthouse, where I could keep her locked away as my little sex slave. I feel possessive of Katy―is that wrong, considering I know that she’s about to betray me?

  I get dressed in a hurry and quietly leave. Let her sleep. Let her dream of me and all that went on last night.

  I get in my car and race to my building. This is the first time I’ve ever been late for a meeting in my entire illustrious career. But I don’t feel cranky or mad about it.

  I’m late because I woke up in someone else’s bed, a bed that was not my own. This is a thing that never happens to me.

  Usually, I wine and dine a woman for one night. They come home to my penthouse, we sleep together, and that’s it. They’re out the door before the sun comes up.

  Katy’s different. I actually want to be around her.

  Even though her apartment is very simple, and there’s nothing luxurious about it, I found myself feeling good there. Because I was with her. I just feel at ease every time I’m around her.

  And so I’m in a good mood the whole time I’m driving to work. And throughout the whole duration of the meeting that I was late for.

  It’s such a change from my usual stressed-out demeanor that even the executives seem at a loss as to why I’m smiling and not being rude to them.

  I’m actually paying attention to the details of this meeting for once. They plan on building a huge complex or something. A new investment of some sort.

  But as they talk, I realize something harrowing…

  The place that I went to with Katie for the outreach program is also the land that my bank bought about three years ago.

  My bank is responsible for what I witnessed yesterday. I forced those families living there into poverty. As the CEO, I’m essentially responsible for all of it.

  I’m at a loss for words, and I can’t believe that it was my bank that did this to those people. Shouldn’t we have a department or something that makes sure people don’t get hurt and put out on the street? Why have I overlooked this sort of thing?

  For the first time in my life, I feel as if maybe I’m doing the wrong thing. Katy taught me to see people for who they really are and not just what they have. I’m sorta sickened by the fact that it was my company that did this to so many families, especially those kids.

  “Wait.”

  The junior executive reporting on the complex’s bathroom finishes looks terrified. So do my other executives. I have never interrupted a meeting before.

  “Put it on hold for now,” I tell them.

  “Oh, uh…okay…I-I…guess we won’t install a fo
untain the second-floor bathroom, and―”

  “No, not that. The whole project.” I’m met with stunned silence. “I’ll let you know when to start it up again. This will go through, but it may look different than we have envisioned it for now,” I tell everyone in the meeting.

  They look at me in surprise, but I don’t care. This is my company, and I’ll run it however I want to. I realize there’s a part of myself that’s gotten soft

  But I can’t help but think how Katy will be disappointed in knowing what my company did.

  And yet I also have to keep telling myself that it’s essential for me to get Katy’s full trust in order for me to know her plans. She’s going to attack my bank, and I have to know the details. The fact that she’s out to get me is an inescapable truth.

  The executives in the meeting want to know why I’ve halted the project. I don’t owe an explanation to anyone.

  “What should we do in the meantime?” one of them says.

  “You know this thing has a time limit,” another exec opposes.

  “What I know,” I say, “is that this is my company, and I intend to steer it in the right direction. As of now, I’m not sure about this project. We’re gonna put a halt to it until I say so. I’m sure you can find plenty of work to keep you busy.”

  I leave the meeting, and I’m absolutely disgusted at how my executives are so concerned with making money and with their bonus structure that they’ve totally overlooked the people who’ve been misplaced.

  It’s my fault, too. I know this, but it’s a hard pill to swallow.

  But still, my executives haven’t seen what I’ve seen. They haven’t seen the poor and the people who’ve been wronged. Maybe if they had, they wouldn’t be questioning me about moving forward with this project.

  It’s evidence of the way Katie’s changed me. I don’t change for anyone―and yet I find I’m a different person now that I’ve met her.

  Fuck, what’s going on? She’s shaken my routine existence, and I find that I’m becoming hooked to the feeling.

  I use the next couple days to research the project a little bit more. I want to know why my bank chose that land to take over. I want to know how these poor people fell through the cracks with no support.