Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) (15 page)

Back in London, like Oliver Twist, Ellie was asking for more...

Neighbours

By Harper Bliss

Karen had scored the friendliest amongst Hong Kong cabbies again. He sighed and heaved in the front seat as if he were doing her a huge favour by driving her home. Blocking out the driver’s dramatic antics, she peered out of the window, still getting used to her new commute route. After another spike in rent, Karen had chosen to switch neighbourhoods instead of moving down another few stories in her old building - she had almost been at the lowest floor and nearly out of options. Her new place was a few miles further from the office, but it had one unexpected perk.

One night, on her tiny balcony, when searching for the harbour in between the skyscrapers obstructing an open view, her gaze had drifted to the apartment building on the left. It was the usual grey affair with a yellow glow beaming through the windows, creating a scattered pattern of city light. From the showerheads towering over plastic curtains she’d learned she was watching a column of bathrooms. Except, on the twelfth floor - at least she guessed it was the same floor as hers - the person in the process of showering obviously didn’t believe in curtains. At first, it didn’t fully register, but as her eyes grew wider and her mouth curled into a smile, Karen had realised she was witnessing quite the revealing shower scene.

The woman on the other side of the window, which wasn’t even patterned, lathered soap over her arms, producing white frothy bubbles that stood out against her olive skin. Karen deemed it impossible for the woman not to know that she was on display. The easy conclusion was that she must really enjoy it. At least four other buildings had windows or balconies facing her bathroom. Hundreds of eyes could feast on the way the foam was slipping off the woman’s skin right now. Karen had checked her watch. It was just past eight, around the time half of professional Hong Kong arrived home from work. Apart from an exhibitionist streak, the woman also had excellent timing.

Karen had soon learned that the showering woman was a recurring phenomenon and she found herself drawn to her balcony every time she stepped inside her flat. Some nights, after a rough day in the office dealing with incompetent suppliers, she’d rush home instead of going for the usual after work drinks with her colleague Andy, and could only relax with a glass of wine on her balcony, eyes glued to the illuminated window across from her. Once, when stuck in traffic after a gruelling meeting, she’d gotten out of the cab and half-jogged home to make it in time for the show. She wasn’t exactly proud of it, but Karen felt that her own vices were easily eradicated by the woman’s.

Impatiently waiting for the taxi driver to hand her the receipt, she glanced at her watch. It was ten past eight and the spectacle would soon be over. Karen dashed into her building, ignoring Kermit, the jovial doorman with the unfortunate name, and frantically pushed the elevator button. Once inside the lift she wondered if this sort of behaviour could be placed on the same level as a trivial caffeine addiction or if she should consider professional help.

She stepped onto her balcony just in time to see the lights go out in the woman’s bathroom. With a sigh of desperation she sank down onto the little wooden bench she had solely acquired to rest her weary feet when indulging in the peep show across the road. Karen didn’t always make it in time and neither did the star player in what had become one of her liveliest fantasies of late. The woman showed up in her window often enough to keep the momentum going and build hope for the next day, but she didn’t stick to a rigid schedule. This fact filled Karen with hope because it meant the woman was just a human being like her, with a job and a calendar bursting at the seams. Even though she did seem to prioritise personal hygiene over other activities, like watching the eight o’clock news.

There’s always tomorrow, Karen thought and retreated back into the living room. Her stomach grumbled and as she reached for her phone to order food, it started ringing, Andy’s name blinking for attention.

“Are you coming or what?”

“Excuse me?” Karen had rushed out of the office, barely saying goodbye to anyone, eager to get home. She’d had a rough week and had been looking forward to the Friday night showing more than ever.

“Deborah’s party. Almost everyone is here.” Andy sighed. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Of course not,” Karen lied. Her mind had been a bit preoccupied lately. “I was just about to call you to get the address. I seem to have lost it.”

“You’ve lost it all right,” Andy scolded her. “Her building’s right next to yours. Twelfth floor, apartment A.”

When Karen entered the lobby it hit her. This was the building to her left when she stood on her balcony. Her finger trembled when she pushed the button for the twelfth floor. She couldn’t help but feel closer to the woman, even though, realistically, ogling her from across the street was probably as close as she would ever get. Before ringing Deborah’s bell she looked around for the apartment that faced hers. Her eyes landed on flat C across the hall. Adrenalin surged through her veins as Karen stood there, her feet unable to move and her mouth going dry.

“Are you coming in?” Andy, always the gentle soul, yanked the door open.

Karen took a deep breath and entered the apartment.

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?” Andy asked.

“Nothing a few glasses of wine can’t fix.”

Karen found Deborah and handed her the bottle of sauvignon blanc she brought. Most people present were work colleagues accompanied by their usual plus-ones. Karen did notice a few unfamiliar faces but, at first glance, no one seemed suitable to attend to the growing ache inside of her. Since she had started shamelessly indulging in a resident of this very building’s shower scenes, certain needs had gone unmet, and she was always on the lookout for someone to quench her thirst.

“Is everyone here?” Andy asked Deborah. “I’ve prepared a little something.”

Deborah scanned the living room. “We’re just missing my neighbour, but she’s always late.” Just then the bell rang. “Speak of the devil.”

Karen stood closest to the door. “I’ll get it.” She opened the door and, with clothes on, the woman looked almost unrecognisable. Karen had to swallow before she could speak. “Come in.”

The woman pinned her eyes on Karen, narrowing them. “Have we met? You look familiar.”

“I’m not sure.” Karen extended her hand. “Karen, Deborah’s co-worker.”

“Joan.” The woman slipped her fingers against Karen’s. Her skin felt soft and tender. Must be from all that soaping up, Karen thought. “Neighbour.” She squeezed Karen’s hand firmly. “Pleasure.”

Andy’s speech and the cutting of the cake happened in a haze. Karen only had eyes for Joan. She wore tight jeans with a blue halter-top and now that Karen had the privilege of standing so close to Joan’s exposed shoulders she found herself unable to engage in fluent conversation. Everyone else in the room paled now Joan was there. They all blended into the walls and the words coming out of their mouths held no more interest for Karen. Joan’s pitch-black hair was tied together in a low ponytail and the sight of it transported Karen’s thoughts to the black mound of pubic hair she’d so often seen drenched in foam.

It’s quite unusual to see someone naked before you get to know them, she pondered, as she let Deborah pour her another glass of wine.

“In case you’re wondering, the answer is yes.” Deborah shot her a half-drunk smile. “And don’t tell me you haven’t been wondering. You can’t keep your eyes off of her.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Karen grinned, her gaze still fixed on Joan. “And even if I did... what are you doing hiding hot lesbians from me?”

“I just haven’t had a chance to introduce you, that’s all.” Deborah winked. “As far as I know, she’s single.” She turned around and refilled everyone else’s glass.

“You obviously don’t know much about her,” Karen mumbled more to herself than to Deborah, who had reached the other end of the room by then.

Joan stood talking to Andy and Karen realised they weren’t making much effort at covertly glancing at her. Andy waved her over and with her heart pounding in her throat Karen shuffled towards them.

“I’ve just been told that for once I’m not the only one in the room.” Joan accompanied her statement with a wide smile, baring a row of immaculate white teeth. Karen thought it a bit daunting to hit on a woman whose near-perfect body she saw on regular display. She should be glad it was a hot lesbian and not a chunky Chinese man who lived opposite her, but the sight of Joan had quite the tongue-tying effect on her.

“Have you lived here long?” Karen asked clumsily. ‘I recently moved into the building next door.”

Joan studied Karen’s face and pouted her lips before she spoke. “Maybe I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood then. That wasn’t a pick-up line earlier, you really do look familiar.”

“Pity,” Karen’s confidence grew. After all, she’d always been fully clothed on her balcony. “About the pick-up line, I mean.” The wine was also ascending to her head rapidly. She’d only had a few crisps for dinner and a thin sliver of birthday cake, her stomach too upset by Joan’s arrival to have much of an appetite left. She shot Joan a coy smile and looked around for a bottle of wine.

“I do apologise.” Joan moved a little closer and the taut skin stretching around her bicep as she held up her glass brushed against Karen’s arm, sending a shiver up her spine. Joan cast her eyes down to the spot where their skin touched and bit her bottom lip. “Is this better?”

“Yes.” Karen was reduced to stammering again. All the time she’d spent watching Joan in the shower felt like foreplay and, for Karen, there was only one satisfying outcome. She bent her head and sniffed Joan’s skin. “You smell divine. Which brand of soap do you use?” Karen remembered the foam trickling down Joan’s breasts when she leaned back to rinse her hair.

When their glances met, Karen saw the sparkle in Joan’s eyes intensify, as if the penny was about to drop.

“Clinique Happy Body Wash.” Joan whispered it in Karen’s ear like dirty talk. “Quite pricey, but I just love it.”

“I’ve noticed.” Heat rushed through Karen’s blood.

“Would you like to try it?” Joan’s lips were still hovering around Karen’s ear. “I live right across the hall.”

Karen swallowed hard, then nodded. “I know.” She glanced around for a sign of Andy. When she caught his eye, she winked and slanted her head towards the door, indicating she wanted to leave. Andy gave her an obnoxious thumbs-up, but Karen refrained from rolling her eyes. Instead, she gave in to the lust pooling in her blood and grabbed Joan’s hand.

“So you like to watch.” Joan closed the door of her apartment behind them and leaned against the small dining table. Her lips curved into an audacious smile. “How would you like it if you were the one being watched?”

Karen stepped closer and peered into Joan’s eyes. “But you’ve only just showered.”

“And you weren’t there to see.”

“I had a party to attend.” Karen placed her hands on Joan’s hips. “The people you meet at these things.” She snuck her hands up Joan’s sides, lifting up her top in the process.

“Tell me about it.” Joan’s breath caught in her throat as Karen jerked her tank top over her breasts.

Karen pressed her body against Joan and kissed her. She could feel Joan’s nipples stiffen through the fabric of her bra. Joining Joan in the shower hadn’t made it to Karen’s fantasies yet - they’d been more traditionally located in the bedroom - but it looked like she wouldn’t need to waste any time on imagining that one.

Joan’s lips nibbled their way to her ear. “Let me show you to the bathroom.”

It was like stepping onto the set of a TV show she’d been following for years. The bathroom was tiny, like most in this city, the tub doubling as a shower. A bright bulb illuminated them from above, preventing them from seeing anything but dots of yellow light beaming from the buildings outside.

“That’s your flat.” Joan brought Karen’s arm up and pointed it to the window. Karen could barely make out her balcony, it was one of so many - then again, most balconies probably didn’t have someone appearing on them at eight o’clock every night. “I do love a captive audience.”

Joan’s nipples probed into Karen’s back. All the memories of a dripping wet Joan flooded back into her brain. Karen felt Joan’s breath on her neck as her lips drew closer before planting a moist kiss on her shoulder. Her own nipples perked up as Joan rubbed her hands over her belly, snaking them up to her breasts. All eyes on me now, Karen thought as her gaze was lost in the twinkling lights outside. The possibility of other people watching her - them - heightened her senses. Joan’s fingers had reached her nipples , caressing them over the lace of her bra.

“Time to soap up,” Joan whispered, and moved her hands to Karen’s back where they unclasped her bra. With one swift move, Joan hoisted Karen’s top and bra over her head and arms. There she stood, half-naked on display for the neighbourhood. Karen saw their reflection in the window. Joan’s hands were on her shoulders, creeping down to her trousers, ready to undo them as well.

Karen spun around to face Joan. Now her pants had dropped down, her nudity against Joan’s half-dressed state felt quite unbalanced. She folded her arms around Joan’s waist and dropped her hands to cup her buttocks. Joan’s lips tasted of wine and peanuts when she kissed her again. Karen’s clit pulsed between her legs and she briefly wondered what her panty-clad behind looked like to casual balcony-standers.

Joan grew impatient and flipped open the button of her jeans. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” She grinned and let them sink to the floor, underwear included. Karen had to stop herself from kneeling and burying her tongue in Joan’s pussy. Instead, she tugged off her own panties and watched as Joan got rid of her bra.

Joan stepped into the tub first and extended her hand gallantly to facilitate Karen’s entrance. The side of the tub was covered by a foldable frosted glass shield that, Karen suspected, extended far enough to protect users of the shower from prying outside eyes. Joan obviously had no interest in using it. She turned on the tap and the first hit of water was freezing cold, causing Karen’s skin to break out in goosebumps. The pressure was perfect though, massaging her scalp and relaxing her shoulder muscles.