The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 7

by Maxim Jakubowski

  Teams of men pounded stakes through the root balls of the larger trees as Lauren supervised. Arnold’s curiosity overwhelmed him and he tapped her shoulder.

  “What are they doing?”

  “Trees this big – you just don’t plant them like a pansy. You gotta make sure their roots are stable. You don’t need one of these things toppling over onto your roof.”

  By late afternoon a small forest had appeared in the barren courtyard. An entirely different landscaping team had taken over, nearly all young women, who had set about installing smaller trees and shrubs and rolling out carpets of grass. Green hardhats, khaki shorts and white tees stained with dirt and perspiration made up the uniform worn by these busy sirens. Whether tall or petite, black or white or Asian, the crew of a dozen young women, their bodies lean and taut and shimmering in rivulets of sweat, had drawn a crowd of admirers among the bachelor tenants.

  Arnold took note of the blissful smiles and dubbed them the lazy lechers. He approached Lauren again. “Hey, you want me to move these guys along?”

  “Aw, let them stay and enjoy the view. The girls are getting a kick out of it. But, for the next few days, I’m going to have to insist on everyone staying clear of the site. When it’s done I want it to be a surprise, okay?”

  “Okay – if you say so.”

  He took another look at the lecher bench and a few signaled him to join them.

  “Go ahead,” Lauren said and winked.

  For the next few nights Lauren worked with a small team of men and women. They would emerge and then disappear from the now wooded oasis like ants coming and going from their anthill.

  Arnold checked by around 8:30 as Lauren had just dismissed her crew. She doffed her hard had and let her dark hair fall in tangles over her shoulder. She was streaked with dirt, her skin moist.

  A heady aroma of perspiration and foliage wafted from her. She sniffed at one armpit and winced. “God, I stink!”

  Stink? Arnold was awash in her scent of raw femininity and earth. He thought of how it would feel to hold her naked in his arms. He shook the thought from his mind.

  “Shower?” he offered

  “Yes, please.”

  As she stepped past him he took a long sniff. It was almost a shame to wash it off.

  Lauren emerged from the shower as usual, giddy and girlish, and haphazard about covering herself with the bath towel.

  “Could I interest you in a light repast?” Arnold said, bowing slightly.

  “Ben – are you asking me out?”

  “A coffee, a sandwich, and some conversation: whadya say? I know a place close by; they’re open late and they sell these amazing pastries.”

  “Okay – it’s a date. Soon as I get dressed.”

  Would she be just as comfortable strolling the city streets naked? He wondered.

  She took his arm as they walked the block and a half to Hank’s. There he was greeted at the entrance by a large woman with a dazzling grin.

  “Andy! Child, where you been? Haven’t seen you since . . . well, it’s been a long time.”

  “Hello, Hank. I know, it’s been a while. I missed your turnovers, though. Missed your muffins too, but . . .” He patted his stomach.

  Hank reached over and patted it too. “Hmm, well I see I got my work cut out for me. And, who’s this pretty child?”

  “My friend, Lauren.”

  “C’mon in honey. Like as not he’ll break your heart too, but it sure be worth the ride.”

  Lauren cast a quizzical glance at Arnold as Hank showed them to a table. They each ordered a sandwich and coffee, but Hank insisted on a pastry tray. “A sampler,” she called it.

  “Hmm, what is this? Raspberry and . . . something else.” Lauren closed her eyes as she munched the flaky pastry.

  “Amazing, isn’t it? I had to stop coming in here before I weighed three hundred pounds.”

  She brushed a flake off her lips. “So, I take it from what Hank says you’ve brought other dates here. A real ladies’ man, huh?”

  He sipped his coffee. “A few. A man . . . well, there are needs, urges . . .” He shook his head and a smile crossed his face. But she thought it was a sad one.

  “Ben, I hope . . . I hope I didn’t make you feel bad. It’s not like I thought you were being – I dunno – disloyal to Anstis. She’d understand, I know she would.”

  He nodded and his smile widened. “I know she would too. It’s okay. But . . .”

  “But?”

  “How about you? There has to be some young man in your life – some poor, bewitched, enchanted young man.”

  She shrugged, smiled, and looked down at her cup. “Sure, there have been a few – well, maybe more than a few. But they were mostly for, you know, like you said, scratching an itch.”

  “Oh?”

  “I, uh, like sex. Truth is, I really like sex. I like to play in bed. I like to play with guys. I gotta be careful, though. Guys can be so . . . oh, possessive isn’t quite the right word. Maybe – yeah, serious, that’s it. Some guys can be just too serious about sex, you know? Like, they get all worried about whether they were as good as the last guy I was with, like they were in some competition. Jeesh, just have sex, have fun, live in the moment. Just play.”

  “Hmm, I suspect a lot of the men who work for you would be all too willing to . . .”

  “No-no-no! Never have sex with an employee. That’s an iron-clad rule. Of course, it sure would be easier to get dates.”

  “Never ever?”

  “Well . . .” Her eyes focused past him. “There was one guy.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He wasn’t technically an employee. The job was over and he was moving to Florida. But . . .”

  “That’s a heavy-duty sigh, my dear. Who was this Lothario?”

  “Aw, he was just a kid.”

  “A kid?”

  “Nineteen. Jeesh, I was 25, older vamp robbing the cradle. But Arkady – he was from Russia – I knew he had a huge crush on me. He was tall and blond, and he was so sweet and shy, and on his last day he gave me flowers and told me he’d never forget me . . . well, I invited him home.”

  “Sounds pretty slick to me.”

  “Oh, no he was not. In fact . . .” she grinned. “He was a virgin. God, I had to show him just about everything. But he learned fast. Oh, and he was just so . . . sweet and fumbling and . . . God, I screwed his brains out.”

  Arnold felt a pang of jealousy, but at the same time a grin spread across his face. “Broke him in, eh?”

  “Yeah. You know, I liked that, knowing I was his first. He went to work for some cousins in Florida right after that. I like to think he’s a big stud down there, all on account of me.”

  “Yeah, getting more tail than a toilet seat.”

  Lauren almost spit her coffee across the table. “That’s awful!” she laughed.

  He laughed with her, but the shadow reappeared.

  “I – I wish you could have known her.”

  “Anstis?”

  “You two would have really gotten along – you’re a lot alike, and then . . . you’re different. Ah!” He slapped his hands on the table. “I wish . . . I just wish I could . . .”

  She reached over and took his hand.

  “Getting late,” he said finally. “Better send you home, and get these old bones to bed.”

  Arnold stirred from his slumber and lifted one heavy eyelid to peer at a pink morning sky beyond his window.

  “Another day . . . still breathing.” He could never return to sleep once he had awakened, so he slung his legs over the edge of the bed and forced himself to stand. He stumbled toward the bathroom, then emerged to perform his morning ritual with the percolator.

  The courtyard would be finished soon. Probably by that night. Lauren had not permitted anyone to enter the wooded rectangle that now graced the area that had been barren concrete.

  But she would be gone, and he felt that familiar hollowness assert itself again, like a part of him was missing.
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  He drank his coffee and dressed casually in khaki pants and a short sleeve shirt. He retrieved a straw panama hat from a closet shelf and stepped into the hallway. Before he reached the elevator, its door opened and Maria emerged. She grinned when she saw him, and her pace increased as she approached him. She flung her arms around him and her head thudded against his chest.

  “Gracias, tio . . . muchas.”

  “Huh?”

  “Lauren told me you would speak with the owners for me. I can stay.”

  “Well, of course you can stay, dear. Did you get approved for the Section 8 voucher?”

  “Yes, and this letter . . . it says it covers my rent.”

  “Fine, fine. Well, I guess you can complete school.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He gently pried her arms off him, though she was reluctant to let go. Finally he patted her hands, and said, “You’re most welcome, dear. Now, I have to get along.”

  Minutes later in the lobby, Mrs Califani stopped and hugged him too.

  “That’s wonderful what you did for poor Maria.”

  “Well, I really didn’t . . .”

  “Oh, don’t be modest, Mr Arnold. We all know you work for the new owners. But, who are they? They must be wonderful people.”

  “They prefer to remain anonymous, dear. Now, I need to check the progress on the courtyard.”

  He smiled and tipped his hat as he turned.

  “He’s such a gentleman,” he heard Mrs Riley say as he strode toward the courtyard entry.

  He found Lauren conferring with a petite Asian girl and stood back until they’d finished. The Asian girl then hefted a small pallet of flowers and disappeared behind the trees.

  Lauren’s face brightened into a wide grin when she saw him. “Hey, Ben, tonight’s the night.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’m going to give you a sneak preview before tomorrow’s dedication.”

  “Dedication?”

  “Sure, there has to be a dedication. Tonight at around 9 p.m. I want you to come down here and just follow the path. But, don’t stray off it . . . you might get lost.”

  “Lost?”

  “Well, maybe a little disoriented. Oh, Ben, you’re going to love it. I gotta go help Li now. Remember, 9 tonight.”

  She disappeared behind the trees like a wood gnome. He stood back and gazed up at the trees. They were so tall, like they’d been there a lifetime. She had created a miniature forest.

  He did not see her the rest of the day, but instead was busy fielding inquiries from tenants who had evidently determined he was an agent of the new owners. Who were they? Why had they cut their rents and promised them tenancies for life?

  “Are they aliens?” old Mr Wilkie had asked.

  He was disarmingly evasive, a talent he had polished in courtrooms, but at last he had to retreat to his apartment. He dozed, but came awake with a start. It was already 9 o’clock. He hurried downstairs and out to the courtyard. A bright crescent moon hung almost directly overhead and a star tumbled off its lower tip. The sky was a deep velvet blue and the air was sweet with floral scents carried on a gentle breeze.

  He stepped onto the path and entered Lauren’s wooded realm. Garden lights illuminated the way dimly, but curiosity led him into the trees. It was as lush as any forest, and as he continued he was startled at the sensation that he was falling deeper into the woods.

  He thought he should have already emerged at the other side, but he continued to stumble and feel his way between the dark arboreal sentries.

  “This – this can’t be happening. My God, I think I’m lost.” The woods just didn’t end.

  “It’s just a courtyard,” he said to himself, but an unsettling disorientation had come over him. He looked up to the crowns of the trees and fixed his eye on the star dangling off the moon. He followed its course, but found he had to readjust his progress each time he stepped around a tree or shrub.

  At last he found the path again, and in the distance – distance? – he heard running water, and the sounds of a human being playing in that water.

  He came into a little clearing with a small grotto. Benches ringed the area. A ribbon of a waterfall fed the pond where Lauren was doing lazy backstrokes, her bare nipples pointing toward heaven. Arnold was transfixed at the sight.

  Then she waved and stood up to her waist, naked and shimmering in silver rivulets of reflected moonlight.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  “My, God, girl. How . . . I mean . . . I feel like I’m in the middle of a forest. I got lost . . .”

  “Lost? Ben, I told you not to wander off the path . . . not until you get used to it.”

  “Used to it? But, how . . .?”

  “It’s like an optical illusion, except that I suppose it’s a full three-D illusion. It’s just the way we arranged the trees and shrubs. You can’t walk in a straight line so you think you’re walking forever.”

  “But, when I heard you – it sounded like you were far off.”

  “Acoustics – it’s just how the sound travels through the trees.”

  He stepped back and sat down heavily on a bench. “My God. You did create an eden.”

  “You like it, then?”

  “It’s more than I could have imagined. But Lauren, I can’t have people getting lost.”

  She laughed. “The effect isn’t as strong in daylight.”

  He breathed in the scents of the flowers and heard birds sing overhead.

  “Night birds,” she said, as she stepped out of the pond without any regard to her nakedness. “It doesn’t take them long to settle in once they find to a place like this in the city.”

  Arnold looked at her as if he were appreciating a work of art. His eyes caressed every curve, every shadow and nuance of her taut body.

  “Young lady, this is worth so much more than what I paid you.”

  “It was my pleasure. I–I never wanted a job to be as perfect as this one. I wanted to do it for you, Ben.”

  She strolled slowly toward him, and then she knelt.

  “You’re such a good person, Ben. But you’re so sad. You don’t deserve to be sad.”

  “No one does, Lauren. But in the end, it doesn’t matter, and deserving has nothing to do with anything. Good person, bad person, you can get the ground yanked out from underneath you and lose everything you ever cared about. Nothing lasts – neither good deeds nor bad, it all ends the same.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  Her fingers fumbled with the button on his fly. He pushed her hands away.

  “No. No, Lauren.”

  “Yes.”

  “I – I won’t have it. You’re a young girl, a beautiful woman.”

  “You’re a wonderful man. Let me . . .” Her hands slid up his thighs.

  “No, please. That’s one indignity I would never inflict on you.”

  “Indignity? Ben, I want to do something for you . . .”

  “Not this . . .”

  She had opened his fly and inserted one hand inside his boxers.

  “Let me – just tonight – let me be Anstis for you.”

  He looked into her eyes, unable to speak.

  “And maybe . . . for her too.”

  Her hand had found his cock and as she freed it from its confines it stiffened in her hand. Gently and steadily she stroked him.

  “Tell me about her, Ben. Tell me about Anstis. How she felt, how she tasted.”

  His head lolled back and he exhaled a long sigh.

  “Her skin,” he rasped. “I miss the feel of her skin.”

  Lauren let go of his cock and placed his hands on her hips.

  “Like this?”

  His hands reached around her back as he pulled her to his chest. His eyes closed as he imagined Anstis, her hair falling over his belly, and the supple feel of her skin as he explored her soft places and her firmer places.

  “I’m with you, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m always with you.”

  Ans
tis straddled his lap and guided his yearning cock into her flowing cunt, then clasped her legs around his back to draw him even deeper inside her. She was in his arms again, at long last. And she rode his cock, pressing her breasts against his chest as her hair spilled over his shoulders.

  “I won’t let go of you,” he vowed. “I’ll never let go of you again.”

  She giggled as she bounced, up and down, her cunt clenching his cock as she gently raked her fingernails across his back.

  “I love you!” he cried.

  “Then fuck me . . . fuck me forever, don’t stop . . . don’t stop.”

  He tried desperately to hold back his orgasm, pleading to whatever gods not to let him come. But his fluids erupted inside her lush body just as an angel cried in his ear.

  His mind emerged from a warm, moist fog. Then his eyes cleared and focused on the moon overhead.

  Lauren, still on her knees, smiled at him, and the evidence of his orgasm dribbled off her hand.

  Was that all it was, a hand job? He smiled. But what a wonderful hand job.

  “Are you okay, Ben?”

  “Yes . . . thank you, Lauren.”

  “You looked like you were far away for a while.”

  “I was, my dear. I was.”

  “She’s with you, Ben. She’s always with you.”

  Lauren wiped her hand on the grass, then stood. “Don’t forget to follow the path.”

  Then she was gone.

  Arnold remained on the bench, listening to the birds and the falling water, until dawn.

  Arnold was startled awake by a pounding on his door.

  “Mr Arnold? You’re gonna miss the dedication.” It was Ricker.

  He pulled on a robe and stumbled to the door. “Huh?”

  “Well, it’s almost 2 o’clock. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

  He tried to shake off his confusion. “Okay, tell them I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

  He closed the door before Ricker even replied.

  He stumbled into the bathroom and showered quickly. Now a bit more awake, he dressed and set off downstairs.

  Outside a crowd that included tenants but also scores of other people pressed against the wooded rectangle. Photographers took pictures of Lauren’s little forest.