Girl Down The Hall

"Nnnngguhh-", came out as if it were some strange song. Juices flowed more freely than usual. I wanted my dick in there so badly.

I quickly pulled my t-shirt over my head, unfastened my jeans and pushed them down with my underwear. My dick sprang out, slinging a drop of pre-cum against the back of her thigh. If I've ever been that hard before, I don't remember it.

I grabbed my shaft, aimed it, and plunged deeply into her. The feel of that first thrust seared itself into my mind in slow motion. The warmth. The tightness. The absolute softness. Her sounds of pleasure, by which mere words cannot do justice.

I grabbed her hips and pounded. I felt her walls constrict again, and another orgasm unsteadied her knees, but I held her up.

I could feel my own orgasm approaching. I did not want to cum inside of her pussy, even though I truly did want that very much, and it took all the self-control I could muster to pull out of her.

I spread her ass cheeks and carefully pushed my soaked member into her other gaping hole. Her inhalation was vocalized, but thankfully not a cry of pain. I had told her that I would not hurt her again, and I wanted to honor that promise.

My urge to cum receded momentarily as I eased in further. I tried to distract myself to keep it from returning too quickly. I wanted to continue a bit longer. I wanted to hear her cum at least one more time.

Each impact coated my balls with even more of her fluid, and soon it was running down both of our legs. As much as that pleased me, it paled the moment she cried out and unleased a torrent upon me.

She sprayed my balls, and for a moment it was like fingers. There was no distracting myself from that, and I returned with a torrent of my own.

I came hard, again and again, inside of her. My grunts performed a duet with her moans. I pushed in one last time and just held there, pressing hard into her as if it were the last time I would ever feel her around me.

I bent over, out of breath, and rested my head on her back. I didn't want to leave her, but soon my erection began to fade, allowing my cum to leak out.

I raised to see for myself. Only half hard, I pulled out of that heaven and watched my cum rush out, waterfalling over her bare pussy. Her moaning shuddered as the white glob slowly traveled down her inner thigh.

Her anus moved in and out with her every attempt to force the remaining cum to follow suite.

I rubbed the head of my dick up and down, just inside her coated slit. The sound she made told me she wanted more but wasn't sure if she could take it. I didn't want to be cruel.

I slowly pushed into her, listening for her cues. A soft gasp. I pushed a little further to a delicate whine. Further still, to a more guttural sound. I sensed no objections.

I began pumping slowly, and the feel of her returned me. I increased my pace, and her sounds matched it. I pounded furiously, and her prolonged sounds were broken only by the need to breath.

She came again, and then I felt a flood against me, so I pulled out quickly. She soaked us both once more. I was easily able to finish myself off by hand and shoot my load all along the length of her back. She twitched as the first contact.

"Oh, my god," I panted in relief.

I looked her over. What a beautiful mess. I knelt down and licked her spatter from her lower buttocks. So sweet and delicious.

I stood up and watched the art emerge and disappear as I slowly rubbed my cum all over her back, massaging it into her skin.

I wished I could look into her eyes. I wished she would slowly turn around to face me. Put her hands on my chest. Kiss my lips.

I kissed between her shoulder blades and rubbed my hands up and down the back of her ribs, then around to her front, lifting her torso enough to hug her from behind.

Still, she left her hands suspended.

I pushed off my shoes with my feet and stepped out of my pool of juice-dappled clothes.

I raised us both to standing positions. I wanted to say, "I love you", but I knew that was foolishness.

I turned her around enough to scoop her up off the floor and into my arms.

Still, she looked away.

She panted heavily, but it seemed her nervous trembling had ended. Or it was just masked.

I don't know how far her plans went, but I carried her into my bedroom and laid her down on one side of my unmade bed. I walked around to my own side and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my hips.

I started to cover her as well, but her sounds of disapproval and slight foot movement stopped me quickly.

Very well, then. I will do one last thing to you. I grabbed her nearest upper arm, and rolled her onto her side, facing away from me. I threw my covers off, and dragged her body across the bed. I slid one arm under her, and wrapped another over her, and pulled her closer still.

I felt her heart beating through her back. She no longer trembled, but her heart rate betrayed her. It still pounded faster than normal.

I held her against me and kissed her shoulder. I don't know what exactly she wanted from me, but I hope that I had given it to her. I hope I pleased her. I hope I satisfied something within her.

I felt exhausted, both physically and mentally. I wanted to stay awake as long as I could with her. I think I managed about 30 minutes, but I'm not sure.

* * * * * *

She was gone from my bed when I woke up the next morning.

I got out of bed and walked naked into my living room. She was not there. If not for the dried juices all over my crotch and down the insides of my legs, I would have wondered if she ever had been.

I saw that I had never put my groceries away. The frozen vegetables had undoubtedly thawed, but I suppose that was fine. I walked to the kitchen to put them in the freezer, but I paused at the site of her clothes still on the floor, exactly where they had fallen.

I put my groceries away, and reluctantly took a shower. Part of me wanted to continue wearing her.

I dressed myself and returned to the pile of her clothes. I stared at them for a while, not ready to pick them up. For some reason, the sight of them filled my heart with a heaviness that I could not explain.

I turned my attention instead to my own clothes nearby. I reached down and gathered them, and as I straightened myself, I almost didn't notice something small on the top of the back sofa cushion, where she had been the night before.

I picked up a key. Perhaps it was just hope whispering to me, but I knew it was the key to her door. A glimmer of joy found a place in me.

I dropped my clothes onto the sofa and left my apartment. My heart pounded as I stood in front of her door. The key slipped in. The key turned. My heart pounded faster. I turned the knob and pushed.

I would rather have been shot in the stomach than to have seen her apartment cleaned out of all belongings.

My next breath quivered. I looked at my fingers, not even realizing that I had just wiped away a tear.

I took a moment to collect myself, and then moved solemnly through her vacuum.

I saw no trace of her.

I walked into her bedroom. The mattress was stripped. The closet didn't have even a stray wire hanger left behind.

Nothing was in the bathroom.

I went into the kitchen to see if even the refrigerator had been cleaned out.

I froze at the sight of a book on the kitchen counter. It was a medium sized book, dark brown, meant to look leatherbound. The word "Journal" was embossed on the front cover.

Had she left this for me to find?

I carried it to her sofa and sat down, opening to the first page.

"A new guy moved into the apartment next to mine. I chose this apartment because it was farthest away from everyone else. I don't like this."

I turned the page. There were no days or dates.

"He's keeping to himself, so far. No guests."

The next page.

"He seems nice."

Next page.

"I'm trying to say something, but every time he looks at me, the fear overwhelms me."

The next entries talk about her fear. A few entries are short poems about it and being alone.

One entry is about her desire to overcome her fear. Another is a long, self-devaluing rant that sunk my heart even further.

Another...

"I'm thinking about him more. I'm thinking about him when I'm in bed. I touch myself imaging him."

I turned the page.

"I mastrubated thinking about him, and started crying half way through. I still came, but kept crying even after."

The next page.

"I want the courage to do something. Anything but keep hiding in this apartment!"

The page after that was just full page of, "LEAVE!", repeated in very heavy mark.

The next page.

"He can help me. He can help me leave. I can't stay here, anymore. He will help me leave."

I turned the page. It was nothing but the word "Fruit" and below it, "Pineapple", and then the word, "enema", with check marks to the right of each one.

Who was this strange girl?

The next page was blank. I turned the page, but it was also blank.

"No," I said, deperately searching for more writing. "No!"

I snapped the book closed and squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to not cry.

I failed.