Sort of...

With an effort of will unlike any you've been able to muster in the last two weeks you pull away, thrusting the bag of laundry into arms to keep his hands busy.

"I really need to get out," you say, offering a smile to ease the rebuke.

Jacob frowns a bit, looking down and into a slight opening in the back before shrugging. "Spring cleaning, sure... Say, your make-up's a little off."

"What?" you whirl toward the mirror, inspecting yourself.

"Yeah, your left eye isn't quite as dark as the other," he says, indicating the area around it.

You don't see it yourself, but then the one dark spot in the apartment is where the mirror is, so you industriously apply more while he takes a look in your closet for some reason.

"Why're you....?" you start to ask.

"Damn," he says, looking up at you, "I meant your left eye."

"Dammit, now I'll look like a raccoon!"

"Nah, you look hot," he says with that melting smile that gets you going.

Giving a thankful smile you turn back to the mirror, leaning in to inspect yourself. You could just scrub yourself clean and start over, but you'd have to go from sink to mirror and back again to make sure you got it all, and re-applying it would be a pain. Besides, Jacob tends to like it darker; it fulfills some fantasy of his you suppose.

While you work at applying more make-up Jacob seems to have lost interest in the closet, not that you know why he'd have been in there. He does take an interest in your shoes, which are the only thing left in there, but you didn't think he had a fetish for them. You shrug a little to yourself, wondering if the garbage bag you've used for your laundry stuff might be a little fuller.

"Hey, look at that, your phone's nearly dead. I'll put it in the charger," Jacob says, helpfully plugging it in.

"Oh, thanks," you say, and decide to darken your lipstick so it's not so out of whack with the eyes. Damn, he'd better like this look because it's not one you'd have worn for anyone else.

"Hot damn!" he exclaims when you turn to him, confirming you'd gotten it right. "That's almost perfect!"

"Almost?" you frown.

"Well, these would go better with the outfit," he says, holding up a pair of four-inch stilettos. They're blue like the outfit, with the blue plastic seeming to twine up your feet like a web. Frankly, they look kind of cheap, but you have to admit they match the outfit a bit better.

If only they weren't so high, you think, kicking your shorter shoes toward him as he tosses them to you.

"Oh alright," you sigh, bending over to put the ankle-breakers on.

"So can we leave now?" you ask, pouting as you straighten.

Jacob smiles, "Almost perfect," he says, drawing a sigh. Always almost, never absolutely perfect. You know what he's thinking: 'if only her boobs were bigger'. He's never outright said it, but he's hinted before, and you've no doubt that he has a friend for that just like he does for everything else.

Your mood only lasts until you've exitted the apartment and he pushes you to the wall beside the trash chute.

"Oh!" you exclaim, and bite your tongue as his mouth falls upon your neck, his hands resuming their exploration.

"Not here!" you hiss, but he ignores you. You writhe under his attentions, half-heartedly pushing him away. While you're not generally turned on by the thought of being caught you can't help but imagine the creepy neighbor with the schoolgirl fetish walking out and seeing this. Or the various perverts who keep propositioning you when you walk by them.

A moan escapes you as his fingers slide in and out, filling you up as he adds more.

Your bliss is interrupted when...