On to #302*

The tenants in #302 are a more varied group than some. Selena Valera is 32, Courtney Hawkins 28, and Gabriela Marte a fairly new graduate at 24. When I knock, the door is answered after a moment by a curvy blonde in a tight silvery dress. “Hello,” she asks politely, “may I help you?”

I go into my spiel, which is growing practiced and comfortable, and hand her my card. “I’m Iain Roberts—I’m the new building manager,” I say. “I’m just going around introducing myself to the tenants. My cell number is on there—it’s the best way to get a hold of me if you need me.”

“Oh!” she says with a blink. “It’s good to meet you.” She takes my hand and continues, “I’m Courtney Hawkins—you only just caught me. Please come in.” Courtney shuts the door and says, “You wouldn’t have except I came home from work early; I had an important meeting this morning, so I figured I could take some time to recover. Selena’s at work, and I don’t know where Gabriela is—she and some friends just opened a bar, so she works weird hours. Would you like to sit down and have a bit to eat? I have the nibblies.”

I blink in surprise. “I would, thank you. I just realized I managed to forget about lunch. It’s been a long day,” I add.

Courtney gives me a long, considering look. “I bet it has,” she purrs.

“Before I forget, Courtney, I’m collecting pictures of the tenants in the building to help me keep everyone straight,” I tell her. “I’m taking them when I can, but some have been sent to me. Do you mind if I take yours?”

“Not at all,” she replies with a slow smile. I explain about the camera; Courtney listens with considerable interest. She’s one of the founding executives of a small firm that does tech consulting for established businesses, so Jenna’s rig is within her area of interest. I take her picture and show it to her. “That’s really quite good,” she says. “Good work on your part, and the camera is obviously quite good as well. I’m impressed.”

We talk for a while over a plate of crackers, cheese, and smoked sausage. Courtney tells me about her career and listens with interest to my story. She tells me a little about her apartmentmates; I find out, for instance, that Selena is a fairly new Ph.D. and an associate professor of business. “That’s how I met Gabriela,” she says, “through Selena. We were both her advisees, four years apart.”

After a little while, Courtney gets up from the table. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m going to take off my makeup and get comfortable.”

“Feel free. It’s your home,” I say with a grin. She grins back at me and walks off.

My mind wanders until I hear soft moans and a faint buzzing sound. I get up and walk into the next room to find Courtney lying on the couch wearing nothing but her high heels. Her ass is up on the arm of the couch, one hand is squeezing one of her medium-sized tits, and the other is working her clit with a vibrator. She arches her neck and looks up at me. “Is your camera rolling, stud?” she purrs. “This seemed like a good way to—mmmmmmmm—get us both ready to have a little—ooooooooh—fun.”

That . . . that . . . Fuck that’s hot!