Chapter 10: Grace

My eyes widen as my mouth opens to form a small, round O. Every muscle in my body tenses. I sit completely still, wondering if I really heard what I think I just heard. But now, as I listen harder, all that meets my pricked ears are the sounds of the city beneath me. Just as I begin to relax on the thickly padded teak lounger I'm sprawled out on, I hear it again.

Only louder. Deeper. Throatier.

Feeling slightly amused, I press my lips tightly together to stifle my laughter.

Yep.

That is most definitely the sound of a woman being pleasured. I bite my lower lip, wondering if I should sneak back inside to give them a bit of privacy. Although, if they had wanted privacy, they wouldn't be out here where their closest neighbors could overhear them.

Her moans, soft and breathy at first, grow increasingly more guttural. More vocal. More frenzied. As if she's deeply aroused by whatever is going on over there. I hate to admit it, because it makes me feel like a huge perv, but I'd be lying through my teeth if I didn't confess that I was getting turned on just listening to her. I can't imagine what the attractive man next door is doing to elicit such a response.

Well, that's not altogether true.

It's not like I haven't had sex before. I have. The caveat is that I don't remember ever sounding like that. Which, if I'm being perfectly honest with myself, seems like a real shame.

Somehow, I just knew that the man in the elevator would be an amazing lover. I don't know what made me think that. Maybe it's his dark, swarthy good looks. Or the width of his palms. Or the full sexiness of his mouth. Perhaps it has more to do with his commanding presence. There was just this undeniable... vibe emanating from him. The simple act of staring at him had my belly prickling with wave after wave of sexual tension.

Then I hear him.

The slightest hint of an accent in his deep, gravelly voice arrows straight through me, hitting my clit. I shiver with need, which is a reaction I've never experienced before.

You like that, baby?

Oh God...

I stifle the whimper of desire that tries to fall from my lips before shifting my body ever so slightly on the lounger. I clench my thighs, but it does little to alleviate the ache. My entire body feels strung tight with thick, sexual tension as desire blooms within me like a flower. Closing my eyes, I lift my arms high above my head, stretching as her breathy moans continue washing over me.

The slap of a palm against delicate, bare flesh rings out.

A loud wail pierces the night air.

A low, insistent pulse thumps to life in my core.

I can't believe how turned on I am. There's no ignoring it anymore- I really am a pervert. Or perhaps it's been too long since I've been with a man.

Sex with Eric, my college boyfriend, was... pleasant. It's not like I didn't orgasm. Half the time. But they were all low on the Richter Scale. Nothing explosive. Or cataclysmic. I certainly didn't scream my head off like I was auditioning for the starring role in a porno. I just assumed stuff like that only happened in romance novels.

And, more obviously, pornos.

How many times have I rolled my eyes when I get to the part where the woman climaxes, sees stars, and nearly passes out?

Too many times to count.

Can't say I've ever come within striking distance of that happening to me.

Biting my lower lip again to stifle a low moan of my own, I can't deny that whatever is going on next door sounds exactly like something out of a book or porno.

Then again, am I surprised?

The man in the elevator looked like sex personified. He reeked of it. Hot, dangerous, and sexy. With him, there wouldn't be any slow lovemaking where you stared into each other's eyes while whispering I love you before finally orgasming together.

Nope.

The man next door fucked.

Hard, dirty, and with a vengeance.

You only need to be trapped in the stifling confines of an elevator with him once to sense the sexually charged energy he exudes like pheromones.

I chastise myself again for not giving the amorous couple on the patio next to me the privacy they obviously think they have. Yet- I still don't move a muscle. I'm much too turned on to leave now.

I want to hear how this ends.

Actually, I need to hear how this ends.

Which is exactly why I decide to wiggle out of the silky panties I have on before dropping them to the floor. I'm surprised by how drenched they are. Maybe I shouldn't be, though. I can't remember the last time I was this amped up.

Reclining on the chaise, I hike up my gown so I can spread my thighs. A thrill zips through me as the breeze hits my naked flesh. Closing my eyes again, I listen as the man next door fucks the woman he's brought out to the patio. Her moans swirl around me, escalating in both pitch and intensity.

Breathy words full of need punctuate the thick night air.

Yes!

Oh God!

Please!

Mmmm, right there!

Once in a while, I hear the sharp, stinging slap of flesh hitting flesh as if he's using his hand in a lightning quick stroke. Not to hurt. She certainly doesn't sound pained. It sounds like she's enjoying every delicious moment of contact. I can't help but wonder what it feels like to have a man spank you in the most intimate spot imaginable.

Another thick sliver of need slides through me like warmed honey.

I'm astonished to realize that I just might enjoy a few smacks.

My mind conjures up an image of my neighbor. Dark, muscular gorgeousness poured into a frame that easily tops six foot three. In my head, he isn't screwing a beautiful, faceless woman. He's fucking me. He's whispering those oh-so-dirty words to me. Laying those wide hands on me. Relentlessly driving me toward orgasm.

My core pulses and throbs as I continue listening. My fingers stroke over my own hot flesh.

How much do you want to be fucked?

God, so much...

Yes, I feel exactly the same way.

I want to be fucked by him. He clearly knows how to push a woman toward untold pinnacles of pleasure. I want him to awaken everything that has lain dormant within me for the last two years. Maybe my entire life.

Hearing the woman next door forced closer and closer to the edge makes everything within my body tighten up like a taut bowstring. I couldn't hold in the soft moans that are falling from my lips even if I wanted to.

Which I don't.

At this point, I'm mindless of everything except my own pleasure. My throaty desire mingles with the cries from the woman being fucked not more than forty feet from me. An orgasm hovers as my fingers continue stroking away. Arching my back, I circle my clit with a little more pressure.

Yes!

Oh God, I'm going to come!

Those words could be my own.

I'm right there.

Hovering on the precipice.

I want to hold on to this feeling for as long as I can. I want to dangle here, enjoying all this delicious pleasure as it continues to wash over me. Just when I can't hold on a moment longer, I hear her scream.

Past the point of caring, I let go as well.

My moans mingle with hers.

He grunts.

I imagine his firm, muscular body hovering over hers as he thrusts into her with hard, demanding strokes.

I can't help but wish she were me. Wish that he was filling me with all that thickness. Little spasms of pleasure rack my body as I continue stroking my pussy with gentle fingers.

I haven't felt this blissful in years.

Finally opening my eyes, I stare into the velvety darkness as the breeze hits my now feverish cheeks. Like a contented cat, I stretch lazily before straightening my dress. Scooping up my panties, I tiptoe inside to find my bed.