This is a growing collection of my stories. I appear to favour writing about sex and death, not always together. I'm also writing two books. Some days it feels like most other people inhabit a world where you can aimlessly wander into vendor-created wonderlands and purchase things you never knew you needed - for entertainment. The mind boggles. I believe it's because I wasn't allowed to watch television as a child. I just don't get some things. I'm ok with that

Friday, November 5, 2010

Highrise



There are certain things to be said for what dizzy-ing heights make people do. Isabelle didn’t know heights would make her pulse race and her skin tingle until she stood up there for the first time… The way the ground begged to be remembered by her feet. How the empty air seemed so appetizing. She resolved not to work at heights, for though she loved it, she feared that one day the temptation to fill that space might become too great.

Isabelle had a temp job at a marine outlet that left her answering phones and feeling dead at night. She journeyed to work on the train and had somehow taken a liking to the second carriage. It had never occurred to her to follow a pattern or establish a routine for herself but she liked the certainty that came with a feeling of knowing her destination.

Out walking one night, she took herself up eight flights of stairs in an abandoned factory near her flat. She climbed the pigeon-stained stairs to the very top and found a broken window to access the roof. As she stood up there on the certainty of concrete she thought about two things. She thought of how she wanted to talk to the man she had noticed catching her train from the same carriage every day too; and that being above the earth with the luxury of a birds-eye view was a pleasure she responded to with a passion.

Isabelle thrilled herself with the feel of the cold wind, the un-giving concrete and the view of streets and places. She pressed her breasts on the cold tiles as she stood in the shower at her flat later, recalling the wind. Under the warm buzz of the shower head she let her hand stray between her legs, gently bringing herself to orgasm dreaming of open spaces. She craved the hard feel of a lover’s hands and the warmth of passion but she excelled herself, caressing her slippery pussy and working her fingers into the warm flesh, gently and consistently at first and then with a desire to thrust into herself she pressed her thighs together and added pressure to her hand. Later as she towel-dried her blonde hair in the lounge, elated.

Mark turned out to be a less-than-averagely talkative train companion. She worked up the courage to approach him one morning and looked again for him that night, bursting with questions but he seemed overwhelmed. They lapsed into a silence punctuated by the movement of the train on the tracks. As he went to alight at his usual stop he said “I’ll take you to dinner. I’d like that.”and wrote his phone number on her arm like a school boy. Isabelle skipped home to her individual-portion-sized frozen meal.

Later, she allowed herself to daydream of him as she knelt on the floor in her lounge. She splashed baby oil on her breasts and attempted to rub each nipple dry with erotic slowness, feeling her juices begin to collect. Soon each pink nipple stood proudly to attention like firemen and she clipped one between her thumb and index finger, forcing a noise in her own throat. She heard her breathing change. As she sat on her haunches circling her ample breasts with the palm of one hand she thought of Mark’s body pressed against hers like it had never been, she felt her pussy grow lush and warm and ache for a release.

Frustrated that she should want to be caressed so much and distracted so often by fleeting passions she showered and slept. On the train the following morning Mark was nowhere to be found. He appeared as usual on the homeward journey and it was he that began the conversation. Mark stood beside her and closed the distance between them when he spoke, as though they were intimate friends.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you” he said.
Isabelle’s mouth fell open a little. Brazenly she met his eyes
“I want you too” She said levelly, feeling the warm rush of desire through her body. His eyes darkened and all too soon he got off the train at his stop.

At home she ate a cold snack as she found the piece of paper where she had written down his number. “Mark” she said when he answered
“Yes hullo who’s this?”
Isabelle very nearly hung up.
“The girl from the train” He laughed lightly back into the receiver. She shivered with relief.
“Do you want to see me?” he asked
“Yes” said Isabelle.
“Let me take you somewhere special?”

She gave him her address and he turned up in a commodore. Mark drove them back into the city which was quieter now and parked easily on a street right downtown. He led her to a building nearby. Using his keys and a security pass he took her through the foyer and up the lift. They progressed to level 23. At a landing and they got out.

“We have to take the stairs from here” He grinned and took her by her hand. He led her up through endless stairwells and finally out onto a balcony that looked out over a tennis court, a freeway and the river. He smiled at her warmly and opened his jacket to cushion her from the wind.
“I like the wind” She said resisting his embrace and she felt his cold fingers touch the hem of her skirt.
She drew herself to him then and let him encircle her in his arms, they were warm and heavy and she reveled in the feeling of his tense skin beneath the cotton of his work shirt. He picked her up and placed her bum on the railing. She dared not look down but felt a shot of adrenaline that warmed her whole body.

She stuck a cold, brave hand down the front of his work trousers, keeping his eye contact all the while. She found the strength of his aching cock. It was hard as rock and smooth beneath her hand. He didn’t seem surprised though his expression clouded a little once she ran her hand the length of his shaft. She unbuttoned his pants, shuffled off the rail and eagerly met her hand with her mouth.

After too few wondrous strokes she got up to kiss him again. She knew she tasted of him, he returned the kiss, his mouth hot and sweet. She pressed her soft breasts against him. Mark instinctively kneaded her flesh, through her shirt and she strained against his touch. She remembered the pleasure of his cock and returned once more to caressing him with her tongue and her moistened lips. The wind picked up around them and Isabelle cried out with the pleasure that rocked through her before he even made a sound. She could feel herself creeping toward orgasm as she let herself get caught up in the urgency of the moment.

Finally, he plied her mouth away from his aching cock though his body shook with desire. He lifted her up on the rail; he pulled her knickers aside to make way for his large cock and accidentally ripped the fabric. She giggled and swallowed her laughter as he drove his length into her wetness. She inhaled with shock and pleasure and allowed her eyes to feast on his mouth, on the sensuous pleasure ripping through her and the tingle of awareness at their surrounds.

In a moment he was kissing her again, tasting the sweet change in her mouth as she came. Only then did he allow himself to relax into the warm pressure of her, driving his shaft home in a few solid strokes. She sighed with pleasure, riding the last waves of it before asking him quietly to put her down. He kissed her as he plucked her ripe arse from the barrier and set her feet firmly back on the concrete of the 30th level.
“Wow” she said and turned to admire the dizzy-ing view.

No comments:

Post a Comment