This belongs in Humor, but here's the scoop: It's a free-use themed, twilight zone-ish kind of romp. I'm not sure any of it makes any sense but it's also free of charge. Think of all the money you're saving by reading this story!
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"Oh, Miss Harper, you've got it all wrong. Mr. Simmons is very respectful. Like, if he wants to cum in my mouth, he always asks first. I think you're just misunderstanding..."
Margot Harper was appalled by the story the house cleaner had relayed to her. Rebecca sounded so proud as she explained how she had helped Mr. Simmons prevent a mess. Apparently, he had been masturbating and was about to cum all over the floor. Rebecca came to the rescue, guzzling it all down. "Rebecca, Mr. Simmons shouldn't be asking you to do anything of the sort! He is your employer!"
The house cleaner disagreed, "Ma'am, Mr. Simmons is a tenant here. I may clean his apartment, but the association employs me, not him. I don't mind doing anyone favors, though. You know, within reason. So, when Mr. Simmons asked me to swallow his sperm, I obliged! After all, he was masturbating and out of tissues. At least, I think that was the reason he asked me to help." Rebecca placed a finger to her chin, trying to recall all the details. She clearly remembered enjoying the taste of the man very much, but she didn't mention that.
"We are all members of the HOA here, Rebecca. WE, as a group, employ you. Asking you to swallow semen is not part of your job description, and it is NOT 'within reason!' Tissues, or no tissues."
"It isn't?"
"Would you do the same for Mr. Hemmingway in 3B?"
Rebecca instantly snapped at Margot, "No, of course not. Why would you ask me that? Gross!"
Margot couldn't understand the housekeeper at all, but then she didn't really care to. Margot instead wished to see the young lady fired. Her conduct was utterly inappropriate. "Rebecca, why do you describe Mr. Hemmingway as gross, but not Mr. Simmons?"
"Well, for one, I barely know Mr. Hemmingway."
"You've worked here two years, young lady. Mr. Simmons only moved in a couple months ago, while Mr. Hemmingway has been living in this building for over eight years. Certainly, the entire time you have worked here."
"Huh, I didn't realize that."
"And though Mr. Hemmingway has lived here for almost a decade, he is still quite young. Closer to your age than Mr. Simmons. He's thirty-one, thirty-two maybe? He moved here just after publishing his first book. He's an author of historical fiction, you know. Finished his first novel in college. Quite a successful young man."
"I didn't know that. I guess I never asked."
"On the other hand, Mr. Simmons -- he must be in his late forties, maybe more. I believe he inherited his apartment through his aunt, and before that I heard he could never keep a place. I'm not sure what he does, but it isn't much. He's considerably..." Margot couldn't quite find the words to describe it. She hadn't actually met Keith Simmons personally; only seen him in passing on rare occasions. Finally, she finished with, "... slovenly, too. The point is, I'm not sure Mr. Simmons has any of the nice qualities that Mr. Hemmingway has.""
"Miss Harper, are you asking me to swallow Mr. Hemmingway's sperm or something?"
"What?! No!!" Margot believed Rebecca might be denser than diamonds.
"Thank goodness. Why would I do that? He's practically a stranger to me!"
"And Mr. Simmons isn't? Again, Rebecca, WHY would you do it for Mr. Simmons, but not Mr. Hemmingway?"
"Because Mr. Simmons asked, I told you! And he was quite polite about it. Look, I really must be getting back to my duties, Miss Harper. I'm sorry I ever said anything about it!"
Margot Harper was fuming. She wasn't exactly certain why she was so angry about the situation, but nevertheless she was. Very angry, indeed. If she was any angrier, she'd have to change her name to Karen. Maybe it was a host of other factors that egged at Margot, too. At work, she'd spent the last two days arguing with a dozen pharmaceutical reps over two products that launched poorly. Not to mention, her boss had been on her back about a report that should have been finished last week. Regardless, this issue with her obscene neighbor seemed more urgent now.
Margot stormed out of her apartment and charged up the stairs, too impatient to wait on the elevator. A moment later, she pounded loudly at the entrance to unit 3A. She could hear a man grumbling to himself as he shuffled his way to the door. "Who is it?" the voice called. Margot guessed at least two decades of a smoking habit helped develop that voice. "It's Margot Harper, your neighbor in the unit below. I demand you open this door!"
"Fine, fine," grunted the man. Margot could hear locks moving and clicking about (taking far too long about it), until finally the door opened. She screamed when she witnessed what was revealed behind it. Keith Simmons, a boisterous-looking man, was wearing nothing more than an open robe, while precariously holding a liquor glass in his left hand. His right hand was furiously beating his meat, and it appeared as if he had never paused the action. Margot had no idea how he managed to open the locks without spilling the drink.
"SIR!" Margot yelled. "Stop doing that immediately!" Margot couldn't turn away, no matter how revolted. Her eyes were fixed like magnets to the strange man's earnest, stroking actions.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't. I have an exceptionally heightened libido. This is doctor's orders."
Margot began stuttering, shocked and alienated by the activity. "But... bu.. doctor's... wh.. wh... what?"
"Doctor's orders, ma'am. I need to orgasm at least six times a day and once I get started, I can't just stop. Causes too many problems. Plumbing problems, you might call them. So, ma'am, if you don't mind..." He nodded subtly to the door, suggesting Margot should move on, so he could close it.
But Margot was transfixed. She hadn't blinked once since she first laid eyes on him. Keith Simmons was unfit, but less so than she would have guessed. He had a disheveled, Russell Crowe kind of style to him, and he somehow managed to carry himself well, even while beating off. "I.. I'm sorry.. did you... did you say you must do this six times a day?"
"Or more, yes, ma'am."
Margot couldn't tell you the color of the Keith's eyes, because she'd yet to look him in the face. "I mean... how do you find the time?" Her voice drifted to a whisper.
"All I have time for is masturbation, ma'am. Again, I have an abnormally heightened libido. I hope you can understand."