Yes, Though Somethings Not Right

James’ breath hitched as he saw his chance, Danni’s fingers tangled in Richie’s latex-clad hips, their glossy lips locked in a wet, moaning kiss, cherry-smeared tongues flicking between parted teeth. The scent of arousal and synthetic rubber hung thick as he edged backward, the carpet muffling his steps.

Richie’s stiletto scraped the floor as she arched into Danni’s grip, her moan vibrating against the other sissiboi’s mouth. James’ fingers brushed the doorhandle, cold metal against his clammy palm.

James stumbled into the fluorescent glare of the corridor, his fingers trembling as they twisted the lock behind him. The metallic click echoed unnervingly in the silent hallway. His breath came in shallow gasps, each exhale fogging briefly in the sterile air as he pressed his back against the cold doorframe. The rubbery scent of Danni’s discarded stilettos still clung to his clothes, cherry gloss smeared on his collar where Richie’s plump lips had brushed too close.

The building’s hum of distant appliances had vanished. No creaking pipes, no muffled TVs.

James knew something was off. The silence pressed against his eardrums like thick cotton, amplifying the slick click-click of his shoes on linoleum. He moved down the corridor in slow, measured steps, shoulders tensed, every muscle coiled tight as a spring.

A few doors stood slightly ajar, their darkened gaps exhaling the scent of latex and cherry gloss into the hallway. The first moan slithered through the crack of Apartment 4B, a high, breathy giggle, followed by the wet schlick of rubber-clad thighs rubbing together.

James's pulse stuttered.

Another step.

Another door.

James' breath hitched as another wet schlick-schlick of latex thighs echoed from 4B, closer now, the cherry-glossed moans curling around the doorframe like grasping fingers. He pivoted toward the stairwell, his shoes squeaking against the waxed linoleum. The scent of synthetic vanilla and arousal clung to the air, thick as the rubber sheathing the things that had once been his neighbours.

A stiletto clicked sharply behind him one single, deliberate step.

Then another.