Jennifer struggled with her books as she took the keys to her letterbox out of her pocket. At 24 years old, she was in her last year of university, eager to start her real life but especially eager to get rid of her lectures.
“Need a hand?” She recognized the voice: Steven, the 9th-floor neighbor. Jennifer nodded, gesturing towards the books, and he gently took them out of her hands.
“Thank you! I’m not too sure how I would have managed”. Jennifer opened the letterbox and sighed at the idea of even more unsolicited publicity to put in the trash. She clumsily closed the box and pulled out the key.
“Oh, you would have; you always do” His face radiated kindness, and his voice was soothing. “Hey, are you free to come this evening?”
The party. Steven had moved in just under a year ago and hadn’t organized a party or housewarming event. He had already met just about all the neighbors since he apparently worked from home, or at least Jennifer had seen him at about any hour going to or coming back from her lectures. Not everyone organized a housewarming event, but a few did, and it was always nice to see new neighbors (or just be curious about their interior). Just a beer, something to nibble on, welcome to the building, and so on. A few pleasantries and maybe the start of a friendship. Jennifer always liked Steven; he was one of the nicer ones, unlike Jeff on the first floor, who had never said a word to anyone, ignoring any hello or good morning.
“Sure, I’ll be there!” she said excitedly before adding, “Seven?” as they walked to the lift. The doors opened, and they walked in, Steven gesturing her to go in first—a true gentleman.
“Seven! I look forward to seeing you then!”. The door closed behind them, and the lift whirred into life, slowly counting the floors.
Steven handed back the books as the door opened on the third floor. Jennifer smiled, blushing slightly, and walked towards her flat at the end of the corridor, the door closing behind her and the gentle hum of the motor taking Steven up to the 9th floor. Once again, Jennifer stumbled with her books while she opened the door. Principles of Psychology fell to the floor, and Clinical Practices held on for dear life under her arm after slipping away from a book on French artists of the 16th century. She closed the door behind her and picked up the books, putting them on the round wooden table and scanning for damage. All good this time. She walked over to the French window, opened it, and stepped outside onto the balcony. Below her, the city bustled with life, with cars driving down, either trying to enter the city or to flee from the madness of city life. A warm breeze blew over her, sending not only the scent of the trees and flowers from a nearby park but also the general city smell. On the third floor, she was free from most of the madness of the busy city. Then she performed her daily routine, contemplating the view for a minute or two. On the other side of the road, a river ran its way through the city, cutting it in half, and this flat had an excellent view of the river and two of the bridges. On the left, a train crossed the Lesterfield Bridge, whisking passengers away. She wondered where.
This wasn’t her flat. Her parents had bought it while she was studying far away in this city. Next year, when her studies were over, she would get her own place, and her parents could rent it. In the meantime, this felt like a luxury. It was spacious for a student – a large living room with a single bedroom built from high-quality materials, unlike the rentals she had used previously. The kitchen was dark wood; one wall was brilliant white, and the other was a light gray. A large metal clock hung in the middle of the wall, ticking the seconds to her next lesson or telling her that she had to study. Okay, just for an hour or two, then she’d get ready to say hi to Steven. She picked up the book Principles of Psychology, sat down, and tried.
Jennifer sighed. She took a look at her watch. 7:30 PM. Damn! I’m late! An adrenaline rush hit her. After almost falling asleep after pages and pages of lectures, it was a welcome feeling. She dropped the book, with page 137 remaining unread for the rest of the evening, and ran to the bathroom to shower quickly. Forget about her hair; she didn’t have time. She took a shower that lasted less than 5 minutes for the first time in a very long time. She walked out into the bedroom through the living room, naked, with not a care in the world except the fact that she was late. She picked through some clothes and chose a black summer dress. She put it on quickly, swallowed a peppermint that was on the table, quickly kicked on some shoes, and that was it; she was ready.
She pressed the button for the lift, and the wait felt eternal. Never ever show heavy machinery that you are late; it will know. The doors opened, she hit the 9th-floor button, and again, the doors took far too long to close. Maybe she should have taken the stairs. She arrived on the ninth floor. People were waiting for the lift to go down, and the first guests were leaving. She slid discreetly past and entered Steven’s flat through the open door.
Steven had good taste. He had a much larger living room, and the kitchen was like hers, with dark wood and dark walls tastefully illuminated at select places. An expensive coffee machine was humming away, preparing coffee for the guests. The fridge, an extra-large version, was being opened for beers. And behind the door, Steven. He saw Jennifer and smiled.
“Jennifer! You made it!” He walked over and kissed her on both cheeks, the typical French way of saying hello. Jennifer blushed slightly. “So, what will it be? Beer or coffee?”
“Beer, please”. Jennifer looked at the bottle handed to her. A Chinese beer, one of her favorites. This was going to be a great evening. She smiled and wandered through the living room, taking a delicately prepared pastry on the way. Cheese. French Reblochon.
There were only three more guests; she was very late or not too many people came. It was probably a mix of both. Some neighbors were friendly, but others were distant, or at least they were to her. As nice as he was, some people just didn’t want to mix.
She made her way out to the balcony and took in the view. Steven had a much larger balcony on two sides of the building, with a corner. A nice, cozy space had been set up in front of the river view with a garden sofa, two chairs, and a small table. A larger table with six chairs had been set up on the other side. A beer bottle stood neglected on the glass surface.
Jennifer loved her view, but the view from the ninth floor was breathtaking. Above the tree line, he could see so much more: the river, the bank on the other side, the sprawling buildings stretching out, and the countryside beyond. And city life was far below him. Jennifer let her imagination wander…
“Would you like me to show you around?” Steven’s voice pulled Jennifer away from her daydream. He handed her another beer, took her by the arm, and led her back inside—the living room, with the giant sofa and the large TV screen in one corner. There were shelves with unknown objects, probably souvenirs from distant countries. Two paintings were hanging on the wall: one was a beautiful lighthouse scene, and the other was more abstract. Was that a train? Powering through some surreal landscapes, leaving steam as it made its way through the countryside. Through a door, the home office, with a large computer screen on the desk and three large bookshelves covering the wall on the other side. Again, a few objects adorned the shelves, but these mostly seemed like toys. A small robot. A collection of four stuffed toys. Then through to the kitchen, the downstairs bathroom, and the staircase: “Up there is my bedroom, the guest bedroom, and another bathroom, but I won’t show you that yet,” he laughed. “Another beer or two first,” replied Jennifer, half joking, half flirting.
Two guests walked over, thanked Steven, dispensed the usual pleasantries, and left. After a few minutes of talking, Jennifer walked into the office and looked at the collection of books. Her mother always had a saying: “Show me what you read; I’ll tell you who you are.” The bookshelf on the right had many novels, a few books on writing, and, hidden away in a corner, a few books on cooking. There was even one on microwaved food. The bookcase in the middle was more impressive, having collections of books, a complete series by an author, and a few collection books. They ranged from novels to books on computers, from images of space and underwater to how-to books on DIY and writing.
The last guest said his goodbyes, and Jennifer heard the door close behind them. Steven walked back into the office while Jennifer looked at the left-hand bookcase. Then she spotted them. A few erotica books, a collection of stories, and three or four longer novels. Then an entire series. All from the same author – Aristide Elliott. She took a book off the shelf. The cover was of a scantily clad woman, a notebook in one hand, driving in an 1800s-style carriage. The title was “Amelia: The Egyptian Tale.” She knew this book well. This was her smoking gun. With a cheeky smile and a slightly mocking tone, she took a book off the shelf and showed it to Steven.
“Steven… You have the Amelia collection?”
Steven rested against the wall, arms crossed, a beer in one hand, and a slight smile. Jennifer had never noticed that striking look on his face: brown hair and a week-old beard. A few gray hairs here and there only added to his natural charm. “Yes, I do.”
“You? I didn’t think a gentleman of your caliber would read erotica?” she joked.
“Me? A gentleman? I’m flattered! But why wouldn’t I have the Amelia Bloom series?”
Jennifer counted them—all 11. “You have the entire collection, too! You must really like the author.”
Steven smiled, shrugged, and replied, “I suppose I do.”
Jennifer had only had two beers. Okay, three; she had one in her flat before. Maybe they were going to her head, or she was caught off guard. “Yeah, the new one is supposed to be out in two weeks; I can’t wait to get my hands on it.” She said dreamily. She felt herself blushing immediately after she said that. Erotica was a taboo subject, wasn’t it? Nobody read it, but everybody loved it. A bit like porn, no one watched that but put the letter “P” into someone’s Internet browser, and they get on edge.
Steven put his beer on the desk, turned around, and opened the closet. He pulled out a box with a shipping label and opened it up. “Here”, he said, handing her a book. The same girl, scantily clad, swimming in the ocean. In the background, a pirate ship was approaching. The title was “Amelia Bloom and the southern seas”. Jennifer took the book, her mouth open in surprise. Wait… Is this…? She looked at it and then at the other books in the box. There must have been twenty or so inside, all identical.
“Wait, how… How did you manage to get your hands on these? They aren’t out yet!”
Steven shrugged. “Easy. I wrote them. The author always gets the first copies.”
Jennifer froze. “You… wrote them? You… are Aristide Elliott?”. She laughed. “No,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, “you can’t be!”
“Yup.” Steven smiled.
Jennifer was in disbelief. Her neighbor, the nice one, the one who always had something nice to say, the one who always smiled… He was Aristide Elliott, the author who had already published forty or so books. They bonded on their love of books; Steven sat in front of his computer and showed her how he wrote his books, the programs he used, the drafts he kept, and the notebook he used to keep ideas. Jennifer was fascinated, holding the book close to her chest as if it were a precious object and that at any moment, someone would spring from the shadows to take it away from her. They talked for a few more minutes before Jennifer said goodbye and returned home with a new prize.
Jennifer walked out of the bathroom naked. She had taken a second shower, washed her hair, and done everything she needed to do. Right now, she only needed to take care of herself. On the bed was a small collection of toys; her favorite violet vibrating dildo, a small metal anal plug, and some gel. On the side was Steven’s book, waiting to be devoured. Her small perky breasts bounced gently as she walked to the bed, her pussy damp from the shower, but not only.
She laid down and took the book—chapter One – an Unexpected Encounter. Jennifer read page by page as Amelia Bloom met an old friend. He was eager to speak; he had a secret. Don’t tell anyone here; just look at this map. Then he ran, followed closely by three armed men. Amelia hid in the shadows and looked at the map. She knew what to do.
By chapter three, Jennifer had begun brushing her thighs lightly with the tips of her fingers, letting her excitement grow. She gently let her legs spread, eager for pleasure. Her eyes were reading, her imagination was racing, and her body was reacting. She was already damp, and her nipples were hard, begging attention.
Chapter Five, rescued. After a heated argument on a ship, a powder keg caught fire and blew a large hole in the ship’s side. Other kegs also exploded, and the ship was destroyed. Amelia fell into the water, and with her dress billowing out beside her, she started to drown. Just as she was about to pass out, an arm grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her aboard. Coughing on the desk of the boat, she was about to thank her rescuers when she noticed… pirates! The whole crew was looking at her, and they knew what they wanted from her.
Jennifer started pinching her nipples, her body craving attention. She shifted her legs slightly and could feel her tight pussy get damper. Her hand moved down her body slowly.
“One of the crew, a large man, biceps twitching, towered over her. He reached out to grab her Victorian dress with both hands and tore the fabric, throwing ruined pieces of wet silk behind him, exposing her porcelain skin. She tried to escape and claw her way out, but there was no escape. Even if she did escape this sailor, where would she go? The only choices she had were the sea or the sex-starved sailors.” Jennifer put the book down briefly, put a bit of gel on her plug and her fingers, rolled over on all fours, and picked up the book again with the other hand. She kept reading as her wet finger played sensually with her damp pussy, moving to her backside. As she read about how the naked Amelia was clapped in irons and placed on all fours, she played with her butt very slowly. One finger slowly entered, readying, before gently pushing the plug into her. At first, her body resisted, but when the relaxed enough and her body finally accepted the toy inside her, she moaned softly. When her orifice closed again over the plug, she moaned louder.
The first sailor had finished with her, his cock becoming limp, but that was only the beginning for Amelia. It was also the beginning for Jennifer. One finger played with her pussy lips, slowly following the contour before gently stroking between the lips. They parted easily, already damp from 5 chapters of excitement and anticipation. She pushed a finger inside her as the second sailor took Amelia. Jennifer closed her eyes and imagined herself in Amelia’s place, the pirate taking her as if she were a simple sex toy, his huge cock throbbing, his balls swollen from weeks at sea without the possibility of being emptied by anyone. Jennifer was close to climaxing when the third sailor decided to use her mouth. She licked her lips as Amelia was taken on both ends, spit-roasted by horny sailors; the first one to cum would be replaced by one of the other sailors. The imagery of a large cock entering Amelia’s body, the intimate admission that Amelia liked what was happening to her, the fantasy work that Jennifer had to admit she had a guilty pleasure for… She put the book down, placed the side of her head on the sheets, and let her fingers do their magic. She had images of the crew behind her, each taking her, using her. She licked her lips, imagining the captain in front of her, her sole purpose on the ship being to pleasure the crew as they desired. Then she came, hard. No need for the dildo; her fingers worked their way into her pussy, while the other hand caressed her clitoris. The sensation of her plug, her expert fingers working while her mind relived the images repeatedly… She bit the sheets hard as a wave of pleasure took over her body, making her thighs tremble while she moaned softly. After what seemed like an eternity, she rolled over, panting for breath. Her eyes closed, her hand caressed her breast, the nipple still hard and ready for more. Chapter Six waited patiently.
She slowly opened her eyes, the soft light of her bedroom finally coming back into focus. That was a wonderful orgasm… How many had she had with these books? She had lost count. She had followed Amelia while she bargained, bought, exchanged, thrived, and survived, all using her body. Over the years, she had been submissive, taken control, and been with men and women (and sometimes both). Jennifer never ceased to get excited by these books, and now she knew the author. Then she thought again about how many times she had an orgasm from these books. She had lost count. At least a hundred, probably much more. She could easily climax three or four times tonight, and she was only on chapter five. Did Aristide, no, did Steven know what an effect he had on his readers? How many people’s lives had he changed? How many boring bedroom lives had been spiced up with his words and imagination? Jennifer had an idea.
There was a soft knock on the door. Steven walked over to the door, looked through the peephole, and smiled. He opened the door slowly and saw Jennifer waiting patiently. She had probably been out since she was wearing a trench coat, her long brown hair falling messily around her shoulders, her dark brown eyes fixed on him.
“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting…”
“Not at all! What can I do for you?”
Jennifer shifted shyly. “You’re not with family or anything?” She knew it was stupid to ask if he had a wife. She felt embarrassed asking the question like a 15-year-old schoolgirl, but she couldn’t think of anything better. She had never seen him with anyone, but that wasn’t guaranteed.
“No, no, all alone. Do you want to come in?”
Jennifer walked in shyly, hands behind her back. A few hours ago, the room was brightly lit, but now it basked in a softer light, almost as if lit by candles. The door to the office was open, a light glow illuminating the seat; he had been working. Writing a new book, maybe?
“So, what can I do for you?”
Jennifer shyly brought the book out from behind her back. “Would you sign this for me?”
“Of course, I can,” answered Steven as he walked to the office to fetch his favorite fountain pen. Jennifer followed gingerly. “What do you want me to write?”
Jennifer bit her lip and lowered her head slightly, keeping eye contact with Steven. “I don’t know. How about… what a view?”. She had been building up the courage, and she didn’t know if she’d be able to, but she did. She was proud of herself for that one.
Steven smiled and crossed his arms. “So, you have been reading the series. Which book was that from? The jungle? Or the mountain resort?”
“The mountain resort, when Alessandro took her doggy style in the chalet while looking at the view, but you never said which view….”
“I left that up to the reader.”
She relaxed a little. “How do you come up with ideas like that?”
Steven walked to the fridge and got two beers. He held them up in the air, and Jennifer nodded approvingly. He walked back over. “Well, I have a good imagination, but some come from other stories, some erotic films, porn… but generally, I rely on my imagination”. Steven gave Jennifer her beer, and they made a toast.
Jennifer took a sip, maintaining eye contact. “No one else in your life?”
Steven sighed. “No. My ex was never comfortable with my writing, and three years later, she gave me an ultimatum; her or my job.”
Jennifer swallowed. “What happened?”
Steven stared into space, somewhere far behind Jennifer’s head. “Well, you have that book in your hand. Although it took a little longer to write this time, lacking inspiration, not having a muse…” His voice trailed off.
Jennifer sensed the sadness. She put the book down on the desk next to her. She undid the belt on her trench coat and slowly opened it. She wasn’t wearing anything else underneath. She heard Steven gasp.
“But…”
Jennifer let the coat drop to the ground. She took two steps forward and put her index finger on Steven’s lips. “Shush”. She moved forward to kiss his lips lightly before adding, “You have made me cum so many times, now I want to help you cum; I want to be the muse for your next story… “. She kissed him again, and he answered, their tongues dancing. Steven’s hand moved down to her lower back, pulling her close, his bulge showing her the desire he had inside. He ran his hand through Jennifer’s long silky brown hair before holding on tight. Jennifer moaned at the feeling of control and could already see herself as Amelia…
Steven took her by the waist, walked her to the sofa, and put her on all fours. Obediently, Jennifer stayed where she was told and turned her head to watch Steven. He undid his shirt swiftly and let it fall to the floor. His belt came off with a quick flick of the wrist, and he pulled his trousers and boxer shorts down before stepping out. His erection pointed directly toward Jennifer’s damp pussy. She had a fantastic body, beautiful curves, and a completely shaven pussy. He walked around the sofa and stood in front of Jennifer. Their eyes locked while Steven gently caressed her chin, his thumb moving to her lips as she kissed it. His hand moved behind her head, cupping her skull and guiding her mouth to his swollen cock. She kissed it lightly, gently licked the tip of his cock with her tongue, and waited. Steven pushed gently forward as Jennifer wrapped her lips around his cock and let him gently enter her mouth. Steven slowly moved back and forwards, Jennifer’s tongue rolling around his manhood, lubricating every bit of skin to allow him to enter deeper and deeper. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as he held her by the hair and slowly moved his hips. He pulled out and started masturbating with his hand, moving Jennifer’s head so that she licked his manhood from top to bottom. When satisfied, he let her wrap her lips around his cock again, plunge once or twice, and then pull out.
He returned to the other side of the sofa, picking up the book and fountain pen. He placed them down beside Jennifer and put one hand on her hip. The other hand guided his cock to Jennifer’s unresisting pussy. He placed the tip on her gently parted lips and pushed gently inside her. Jennifer arched her back and moaned as he entered her, and Steven held on to her to better guide his entry. He made slow movements, watching his manhood disappear inside her unresisting body. His hands gently caressed her back, a finger tracing the contour of her hips, lightly stroking her back dimples, before moving down to her cheeks, softly sliding his hand between them, his thumb gently teasing the plug she was still wearing. It was metal, with a violet glass jewel, in the shape of a heart. Her skin was soft and almost glistened in the ambient light. Her hair gleamed and shone reflections of light every time he thrust into her. In his dictionary of beautiful, Jennifer was the first definition on the page. He took the book, put it on her lower back, opened the first page, reached for the pen, and signed. “Dear Jenny, that was, without a doubt, the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen.” He signed off and revealed his innermost thought to her. She smiled and whispered, “Thank you.” Steven accelerated his movement, going faster and deeper. Her plug threatened to come out, but he pushed it back in with his thumb. Jennifer moaned softly as he took her, pushing in harder and harder, over and over. His hands held on tight, leaving a small mark on her skin as he gripped her differently.
Steven pulled out and sat down on the sofa beside Jennifer. They kissed, tongues dancing, until Jennifer bit his lip softly. She hadn’t had enough, and she wanted more; she wanted to give more. Lifting one leg, she moved over until she was straddling Steven, arms wrapped around his neck, eyes locked on his, basking in his radiant glow of desire. His hands moved to her breasts, kneading softly, pinching her nipples as he enjoyed each and every soft moan. She positioned her hips until she could feel his manhood gently opening the doors to her craving. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, mouth open and gasping as she felt him enter deeper and deeper. He put his head to one side to kiss her neck, and she responded by scratching his back lustfully. His hands moved to her waist, guiding her, his strong arms lifting her to enjoy her more, his hips moving in time with her. Jennifer let her head roll back, her long hair covering her back, and whispered, “Oh my God!”. Beside them, her newly signed book bounced softly on the sofa.
Jennifer arched her back to feel Steven fully inside her. Her head tilted backward; she moaned louder and louder while she bit her lip. Steven put one hand behind her back to support her, held her close, and gently put his other hand around her neck. They found their rhythmic movement, and within seconds, Jennifer’s moans had turned almost to screams as the clenched Steven’s cock hard as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her in one of the most powerful orgasms she had experienced in a long time. Steven held her tight, lifting his hips, plunging deep into her. Jennifer lost her balance, then lost her control. She flopped forward, wrapping her arms around him, digging her nails into his back, and biting his shoulder softly. He held her there tightly until the tsunami of pleasure subsided, leaving her sweaty and panting for breath. Their eyes locked, their lips touched, and their tongues danced.
She lifted herself up slowly and kissed Steven one last time before settling on her knees between his legs. She whispered, “Your turn” into his ear with a cheeky smile. She positioned herself so that Steven could see them both in the mirror and then licked his cock gently, from balls to tip. One long gentle stroke, then another, and another, each time getting quicker and harder. She then wrapped her lips around the tip and slowly moved her head down, pushing him into her warm mouth, her tongue welcoming him, her lips locked around his shaft. She closed her eyes briefly, moaning at the pleasure of feeling him inside her. Her lips found his sensitive spot; she could feel it as he hardened even more inside her. She moved up and down ever so slightly, slowly, building up. She opened her eyes again to see Steven’s eyes rolling back. She softly scratched his inner thigh with a hand, moving her head slightly faster. Steven put his hands around her head, one hand grabbing at her hair, guiding her, and telling her he was close. She made the movements faster, tightening her grip by sucking hard, wishing with every fiber of her body to make him cum.
Steven had reached the point of no return. He felt it build up, welling from his groin. He started trembling; first his hips, then those large hands holding her head, then his entire body in anticipation. He opened his mouth as if to pant, tensed his body, and looked down at Jennifer. This beautiful young creature, with one thing and one thing only on her mind – she wanted him to cum. She wanted to thank him for the years of masturbation he had given her without even knowing it. She wanted to taste him. He began breathing heavily, moaning, almost growling. He arched his back, pushing himself into her. He put one hand on the sofa, clenching the fabric hard, while the other guided her. The pleasure built up until he could no longer hold it. With a loud growl, he came hard. His cock twitched, shooting cum into Jennifer’s mouth. She moaned in response, slowing the movement but still sucking, overtaken by the furious desire to empty him completely. Shot after shot, Steven emptied the months of built-up desire into Jennifer’s mouth, who, unresisting, took it all. Her tongue coaxed out the last few drops while her hands gently caressed his skin. Her lips ran slowly and lovingly the length of his cock, taking her time while it softened ever so slowly.
Jennifer got up, smacking her lips with a smile, before falling into Steven’s arms. She leaned to the side as they both fell, curling up on the sofa. Steven stroked her hair, and Jennifer felt protected in his strong arms. They kissed lightly, Jennifer curling up, sharing body heat, drying off from the sweat, their bodies gleaming in the soft light. Their breathing slowed, their eyes closed, and they fell asleep, rediscovering the joys of sleeping with a partner and waking up next to a partner. Jennifer, dressed only in a coat, didn’t dare leave for the whole day for fear of crossing anyone. She would spend an entire day in Steven’s flat, naked and often sweaty, embracing the role of muse, fueling future ideas for the next book. Or two.
