The Lift

You would think that after a few weeks, I would get used to the workouts, but this crazy trainer of mine just kept pushing up the ante.

I am grateful for the results though. Some weight loss and definitely some definition. And not as weak as I was the first week I got started, but I was starting to feel that good sore. Each muscle thanking me for putting them to work with each movement I made.

The walk that led inside the building from the garage was long, but it was bearable. I had a bit of a limp, but I was ok making the trip. My mind was on my couch again, but I was not as irritable.

The weight on my keys was not an issue and I could raise my hands with little pain. 

I opened the doors and found myself in that basement portion of the building and funny enough, right by the elevator, was my cute neighbor, sporting the same long coat she wore every winter. It was some sort of a bomber jacket that reached below her knees and she had high heel leather boots that covered the rest of her legs.

“Hey, you!”

She smiled at me and while I waited for a hearty and bubbly hello, she instead leaned her head to the side and asked, “What’s my name?”

Talk about getting caught off guard. Not even an acknowledgement of my greeting. She went directly into interrogation mode. A nervous smile attempted to show up on my face, hoping to hide the fact that my mouth was opened from shock, so I probably looked like I was having a stroke of some sort.

With her head still tilted to the side and smile still on her face, she waited on my response. I had to think fast.

I chuckled and said, “What’s my name?”

Without hesitation, she said, “Ky!”

I stumbled before I was able to let out, “That’s my nickname. What’s my real name?”

Again, without hesitation,  she said, “Malaky!”

I had to laugh.  I was wrong and she caught me. My attempt to stall backfired on me, so honesty was my next resort. I said, “Well, I don’t know your name. I don’t even think that I asked you before.”

I chuckled some more.

She said, leaning against the wall, facing the closed elevator doors, “Actually, Celia introduced us when I first moved in 3 years ago.”

I searched within my memory and finally remembered that day. I was busy. But I do know she was moving in with some big burly dude.

“Yeah, I remember you moving in. I guess I’ll have to ask your boyfriend’s name too, so that I don’t forget again.”

“I  haven’t had a boyfriend for about 2 years now.”


“Yep! And to be honest, it’s been a problem, especially since I have been hearing you and Celia get it in in the wee hours of the morning, as I make my way to work. Especially this morning.”

At that moment, I realized that this elevator was taking too damn long to get here, again. How is this conversation still going like that?

She started to unzip her coat, revealing a loose white blouse that showed a black bra underneath it and a grey knee length skirt.

“Did you hear the rain this morning?”

I closed my eyes, going back to this morning’s session, how Celia, woke me up, her hand down my pajama pants, waking me up the one way she knew how to after the rain woke her up. Always grabbing my cock and rubbing it until it gained the sturdiness she wanted before taking it in.

“Do you know how hot and bothered I was at work, thinking about Celia being pleasured?”

As she was talking, her hand traced from her knee all the way up to her belly button, slowly circling her belly button with her thumb, remembering the presence a past lover had left around those areas.

The ding from the elevator was heard. Our ride was here.

Before the door opened, she said, “I even had to touch myself during the day without cumin.”

She entered the elevator and as I followed her in, she said, “I have to finish what you started, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

She laid against the side of the elevator and raised her leg. This little room that went up and down between floors could accommodate 8 people at a time and would usually be crowded. A guard rail along the side facing the door, her foot rested there. Her right hand hiking up whichever part of her skirt that was still down and then going inside of her, slowly coming in and out. The other hand exposing her left breast, the light brown areola that complimented the rest of her light skin surrounding a hard nipple that looked good enough to suck.

I could feel myself growing inside my fitted jeans. She was always so hot during the summer days and now, she looked even hotter.

I forgot about my relationship at that point and I thought about instant gratification. She was one of those fantasies that I never thought could come to life unless I made a bold move, but the move was made on her part.

She was moving her fingers against her clit which was in plain view. And her exposed breast was also given much attention, with the nipple being pulled and pinched. She looked like she was passionately playing the bass in a jazz club. Her fingers playing the sweetest song making her hum every note all the while her eyes were fixated on me, almost daring me to try something.

I moved towards her and that’s when she did something quite impressive. Her raised leg moved from the guard rail it was resting on and then towards me, the pointy heel against the top of my belly button and the toes pushing against me. Her eyes still on me, I watched as a strand of her curly brown hair fell on her face.

And I watched as she enjoyed the look of helplessness that appeared on my face and I say enjoy because of the power with which she climaxed. Her hand grabbed that breasts even harder. Her fingers moved on that clit even faster. And there, as she bit her lower lip, she muffled that joyful sound that wanted to escape, with every shiver and tremor going throughout her entire body.

And it was at that moment that I realized that she was not doing this for my benefit. She was not trying to entice me nor did she want to engage with me. She literally wanted to cum. My presence there was a bonus for her. She would have done it with or without me in there. And I watched as she achieved orgasm. Her shivering, her biting her lower lip, her closing her eyes, lowering her leg, her breath having increased in sound and decreased a few seconds later. The beauty of that loss of control made me wish I had experienced her. 

It was good that she had finished when she had because we had arrived on our floor. Before the doors opened, her skirt was back down and she was in midst of buttoning her blouse back up.

I was harder than life itself and I stayed still, not moving, frozen in time, not wanting to forget what I’ve experienced in this small space.

And I still didn’t know her name.

She came out and made her way to her apartment. I heard a familiar voice shout, “Hey Nicole!”

As the elevator doors closed, I heard my cute little neighbor shout, “Hey Celia!”


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