Rachel Fontana fumbled with the two paper bags full of groceries as she tried to unlock the door to her apartment. It had been a hectic day, the likes of which she hadn't seen in a long time. All she wanted to do was have dinner, kick off her shoes and turn up the air conditioner to high. New York City in August was not a fun place to be. Especially in the middle of a heat wave.
"Damn." she mumbled as she almost dropped the keys. "Nothing is going right today."
The door finally opened and she stumbled inside, just as one of the bags ripped, sending the contents all over the floor. She put the remaining bag on the small breakfast nook of her equally small kitchenette and then went back to pick up the rest.
Then it hit her that the apartment was insufferably hot. What was wrong with the air conditioning. Reaching for a can of peas, she noticed the small note that had been slipped under her door. Picking it up she read.
"To all tenants ... A Con Edison transformer blew out over on Houston Street causing a small blackout. Electricity is expected to be restored by 8 PM. Any problems please call me. A. Martinez"
"96 degrees and no air conditioning." Rachel said to herself as she dropped the last of the groceries on the small table. "This day's never going to end. At least it's Friday."
With a shrug, the 25 year old proceeded to open some of the windows in her 4th floor apartment to let in the breeze, not that there was any. Without the countering effect of the air conditioner it was definitely too hot. First order of business however had to be a cold shower. After ten hours in these clothes, capped by a twenty minute ride in that inferno they call the subway, even the most expensive outfit began to look like a rag. The layer of sweat under those clothes was beginning to itch.
Stepping into the bathroom, Rachel took a good look at herself in the mirror. The heat and humidity had really done a number on her blonde hair. She hated to think what it would look like if she hadn't decided to get it cut short for the summer. Unbuttoning her blouse, she practically had to peel it off. Her bra followed, revealing a firm 34 inch bust covered with small droplets of perspiration.
"You think that if I was going to get this sweaty I'd have least had fun getting that way." she laughed to herself.
Truth was that it had been quite some months since Rachel enjoyed that kind of fun. She had broke up with her last boyfriend in June and really hadn't met any one she really liked since. Oh there'd been a few dates here and there, even a few overnight stays. But they were just quick fucks, something to break up the monotony. The last one of them was three weeks ago.
"Too bad 'Old Herman' isn't here any more." Rachel mused as she finished undressing.
"Old Herman" was Herman Kruger. Up to a month ago he'd been the superintendent of the building. He wasn't really that old but it was a name the neighborhood kids had given him. A really nice man, the 61 year old had befriended the young secretary when she'd moved in last year. That friendship had turned into something a little bit more on his birthday last year when she'd given him a blow job as a gift. It was the least she could do after all the favors he'd done for her.
To her surprise, Herman had turned out to be both quite well endowed and potent. Afterwards, she didn't know why she expected him to be otherwise except for the common misconception a lot of younger people have that older people don't have sex. It had been such an enjoyable experience that it began to be repeated at least once a month.
Among all the good thing she could say about Herman, the first on her list would be that he was definitely all man. Unlike so many of the men she encountered in her office or in the bars and gym she frequented. In fact, the blonde haired girl was thinking of seeing how good a fuck he might be when his birthday came around again.
But Herman had died in a car accident early last month, causing her to regret having not acted on her impulse. More than just a sometime lover, Herman had been a friend and she cried long and hard when she heard the news. She'd gone to his wake only to find herself under verbal assault by his widow. A nasty woman who Herman had once mentioned had lost interest in sex twenty years before. Mrs. Kruger had evidently somehow found out about the little gifts to her husband. She'd called Rachel a whore and threatened to make enough of scene that she'd have Rachel thrown out of the building.
As it turned out, it was the widow Kruger that moved out instead. Michael Maris, who also lived on the building, overheard her discussion with Rachel and quickly moved to the younger woman's defense. He told the widow that Rachel hadn't been the only person in the building who was servicing the late Mr. Kruger. Michael was so openly gay that Hanna Kruger couldn't help but get his meaning. Herman hadn't been too particular about who was on the other end of a hot mouth. Not exactly the kind of story the widow Kruger wanted spread around.
Rachel hadn't met the new super yet. He'd only started last week and there were 19 other tenants. He'd get around to introducing himself to her soon enough. Stepping into the shower, she idly wondered what were the odds that Mr. A. Martinez was a 6' Adonis who had a thing for small short haired blondes.
The splash of cool water against her 5'4" frame felt good. The frigid touch caused her nipples to harden, reminding her it was been sometime since anyone had touched them. Brushing the tips with her fingers, she smiled at the pleasing sensation it brought. Even as a teenager, she'd had the most sensitive nipples.
After spending a few moments to cool off her body, Rachel turned the single water control in the opposite direction. She filled her hands with liquid soap from the wall dispenser and began to soap up her body.
Rachel again stroked her breasts, bringing her pert nipples to a familiar hardness. As always, her own touch felt so good. Soapy hands glided down across her slim stomach, finding their way to the tightly trimmed blonde bush below. She continued down between her legs and then around to the cheeks of her ass, leaving a soaping trail of bubbles in her wake.
Rachel let out a soft sigh as her fingers rubbed against her mound. Running her long outstretched fingers across her firm mounds once again, giving them a playful squeeze, the lithe woman was reminded of how horny she'd felt lately.
The last two men who'd shared her bed had turned out to be serious disappointments. Both had shot their load much too soon and had little interest in spending the time after that to give her the pleasure she deserved.
"God, I need a good fuck." she said to herself as she again glided her fingers down across her stomach and across the thin layer of blonde fuzz.
With a practiced skill she parted her vaginal lips, quickly finding the small stubby clit hidden within. Closing her eyes as she leaned back again the tiled wall, she pressed a slippery finger against it.
"Oh yes." she purred as a familiar tingle spread out from her cunt. "That feels so nice."
She slid a soapy finger up within herself, followed by a second and a third. It was a poor substitute for a hard cock, but it would have to do.
It wasn't long before she was furiously pumping her fingers in and out, sparking the tiny flame between her legs into a conflagration.
The warm water had turned to hot, filling the tiny room with steam. The heat of which paled next to that which radiated across her quaking body as her fingers caressed her love canal in an orgasmic frenzy.
Water running down her face, her lips formed a silent O. Rachel felt her legs and arms go weak as repeated waves of delight rippled up and down her naked form.
Long silent moments, broken only by the splatter of the shower drops, passed as the blonde rested against the now warm tile. The water washing away the traces of her climax.
Exiting the shower, she quickly dried off and just put on a thin cloth robe. Since she had no plans for the evening other than crashing on the couch with a pint of chocolate ice cream, getting dressed again was a waste of time. At bedtime she would exchange the robe for the thin T-shirt she normally wore to sleep. Except on those nights when she had company in which case she skipped the shirt.
Since the power was still off, she turned on the battery powered radio and settled on the couch with the book she had been reading on the train. Another hour had passed by the time she looked up at the clock, noticing that it was already 8:15 and still no power.
It was then she heard someone knocking on the door across the hall and the sound of muffled voices. A minute later came a loud knocking on her own door.
Rachel took a moment to compose herself before answering. After all, she still was only wearing the robe. She looked though the peep-hole and then opened the door.
Standing in the doorway was a tall Puerto Rican woman in her middle 30's. About 5'9", she had a dark olive complexion and weighed in the neighborhood of 150 lbs. Her frame carried the weight well, the type of woman you usually described as full-bodied. Short curly black hair topped a round pleasant face and thick bright red lips framed a warm smile.
"Can I help you?" Rachel asked.
"Rachel Fontana, right?" the woman asked in return.
"Yes, that me." Rachel replied a little on the defensive. "Can I help you." she repeated.
"Actually I was just stopping by to see if I could help you." the woman said. "Antoinette Martinez, I'm the new superintendent."
.... There is more of this story ...