Heating up Cooling Down

Author's Note: Unlike the stories in my "Ben & Gabrielle" series, this is an attempt to write a short but sweet, cheesy, 70s porn-style scene, with little set up or plot beyond the sex. I hope you enjoy it.

*****

The girl in 317 had been calling about her air conditioner for three days. She was attractive, and normally Bobby would have rushed up there to fix it - or, at least attempt to fix it - but nearly a week of 70- and 80- degree temperatures - in March - had him scurrying.

Usually, his position as building superintendent was fairly quiet. In exchange for 50 percent off the rent on his basement apartment, he'd handle a few calls a week for leaky pipes, broken windows, clogged toilets, and the like, in addition to re-painting apartments between tenants. For the things he couldn't fix, he simply needed to call the building owner and have a professional sent over. All-in-all, it was a good deal.

This week, however, had been the week from hell. Everyone in the building had turned on their AC like it was suddenly mid-August, and he'd been resetting blown fuses and replacing batteries like they were going out of style. In addition, the elevator died - again - one of the washing machines in the laundry room crapped out, and he had two apartments to paint.

Just after 8:00pm, he reached the door to his apartment for the first time since 7:30 that morning. He walked into his apartment. The light on his answering machine blinked at him menacingly. Pressing play, he walked into the kitchen. It was 317 - Rachel, her name - again. As he listened, he reached into the refrigerator to grab a two-liter bottle of Coca-Cola. He didn't bother with a glass, simply twisting off the cap and taking several long pulls straight from the bottle.

"Yeah, yeah," he told the voice on the machine. "I'm coming."

He returned the Coke to the cool air inside the 'fridge, picked up his tool box, and trudged up three flights of stairs.

"God damned elevator," he muttered to himself, knowing it would be another two days before the service guy could even look at it.

The apartment was at the end of the hall - of course. He made his way to 317 and knocked on the door.

She'd been dozing in the evening heat - sleeping on the couch while wearing nothing but a pink bra and a matching pair of boyshorts. A small fan moved the air across her petite body. Her eyes came open. Not sure if she'd heard something, she sat up, and extended a hand to adjust the fan.

Although the sun had dropped out of sight, humidity hung heavy in the air. Rachel was sure the sultry weather wouldn't have bothered her quite as much if she hadn't found herself in the same condition - hot and wet - all day. She'd already masturbated twice during the day - once with her vibrator and once with her fingers - and taken two cold showers. The former hadn't sated her. The latter had cooled her off only to find her beginning to sweat again within minutes of leaving the shower.

Well, maybe the third time is the charm, she thought, as she trailed her fingers across her stomach.

Bobby knocked again, louder. Rachel jumped slightly at the sound. Discontentedly, she considered her hand for a moment.

"Can I get a rain check?" she asked.

Laughing at herself, she stood up, and walked to the door.

"Who is it," she asked, without opening it.

"It's Bobby...the super," he answered. "I'm here to look at your AC."

She looked down at her underwear.

"Ummm, hold on a minute, I'll be right with you," she said, and scurried toward her bedroom.

"Sure, why not," Bobby said, under his breath. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

Rachel grabbed a short, red silk, Oriental robe off a chair in her room. Pulling it on quickly, she turned back toward the front door. Her eye caught sight of her vibrator standing upright on her nightstand - she hadn't put it away after her session with it. For a moment, she considered throwing it in the drawer, but decided she didn't need to bother.

"He won't be coming in here," she said, to herself.

As she walked through the living room, she prepared to give the super a piece of her mind.

"Three days of waiting," she said.

Unlocking the door, she pulled it open, and stopped short. She'd never been face to face with him, only seen him in the courtyard from time to time. Bobby towered over her, standing more than a foot taller than her 5'2", and his heavy build dwarfed her petite body. He was obviously significantly older than her 25 years; his goatee was streaked with gray hairs, though the short hair on his head was still dark brown. There was something about him...

Bobby looked down at her; into her brown eyes. Her red-highlighted, brown, shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a small ponytail. The robe she wore only came down to mid-thigh level. He noticed a fine sheen of sweat on her face.

"Hey," he said.

"Uh, hi," she returned.

"I'm sorry it took so long to get up here, I..." he began to say, but she cut him off.

"That's OK," she said. "I'm surviving...sort of."

He stepped inside and she closed the door, then turned to lead him to the living room. As she walked in front of him, he snuck a glance at her ass and legs. Arriving at the AC unit, he knelt, then rotated the selector dial to "Cool." Nothing happened.

"Yeah, I tried that," Rachel said, barely masking the exasperation in her voice.

Bobby let out a small laugh.

"It's not that I don't believe you," he said, "I'm just finding out what it's doing and not doing."

After twisting the dial back to "Off," he pulled off the front cover as she sat down on the couch. The inside of the AC was filled with dust.

"Well, we found part of the problem," he said with a cough. "All this dust makes the unit work harder, and it probably blew a fuse."

Turning to his toolbox, he pulled out a handy-vac. He vacuumed the unit quickly, including the equally dusty filter, then pulled out his flashlight examine the inside.

"Yeah, there it is..." he said, looking back at her.

Rachel was sitting Indian style on the couch. Her hands were in her lap. As he whirled toward her, he thought he saw her fingers moving between her legs.

Must be the heat baking my brain, he thought.

"...the internal fuse popped," he continued, turning his head back to the unit.

Reaching inside, he reset the fuse.

"That should do it," he said, as he replaced the cover.

Again, Bobby spun the selector. Again, nothing happened.

"Or not," he sighed.

He faced her once more. This time, he would have sworn he saw her rubbing herself.

"Ummm, it, ahhh, might be tripped in the box," he said.

Bobby trudged back toward the front door, where the circuit box was mounted in the wall. None of the switches were labeled.

"Typical," he said, quietly.

Scanning the circuit breakers, he ran a finger down the rows, feeling for any tripped switches. Finding one, he moved it fully to the off position, and then switched it back on. From the entranceway, he heard the AC unit kick on. After waiting a full minute to see if the circuit blew again, he closed the door to the box.

Walking back into the living room, he found Rachel leaning over in front of the air conditioner, letting the cold air wash over her face and shoulders. Her position had caused her robe to ride up slightly, exposing the bottom of her ass. She let out a long sigh.

"God, I can't tell you how good this feels," she almost whispered.

She turned her head to look at him. He quickly bent down to pick up his tools; trying to pretend like she hadn't caught him starring at her ass. Rachel smiled, and then loosened her robe as he fumbled about. She let the robe fall from her shoulders, revealing her bra. Her nipples, already hard from the cold air, poked out against the fabric.

"Do you want me to check out the unit in the bedroom while I'm here?" he asked, managing to keep his voice even.

"How do you know I have an air conditioner in my bedroom?" she asked, answering his question with one of her own.

"I'm the super, I'm supposed to inspect the building, inside and out," he said. "I saw it in the window. Normally, I'm supposed to report that to the owner, but I rarely do."

"And, with as hot as it's been this week," he continued, "I can't blame anyone."

"That one doesn't work either," she said.

"I'll take a look if you want," he offered.

Rachel walked by him slowly, her eyes lingering on his, before heading for the bedroom. He picked up his toolbox and followed.

"This one runs, but no cold air comes out," she said, as she led him through the door.

"Probably just needs a cleaning," he said.

She sat down on the front edge of the bed, as he pulled the cover off. He was right, a simple cleaning of the filter restored the flow of cool air from the machine. Rotating toward her, he found her laying on her stomach, facing him. The bottom of her robe had slid down to her waist, exposing her boyshorts.

"Well, it seems to be working," he said. "I guess I can finally get back to my place and take a shower."

Rachel looked up at him from the bed. He caught sight of her vibrator sitting on the nightstand on the far side of the bed. She followed his eyes to the vibe.

"Oh," she said, "a girl has to do something to take her mind of the heat."

He smiled, as she rolled over to the other side of the bed and stood up. She wrapped her right hand around the toy and whirled toward him. He struggled to keep his eyes on hers.

"Why don't you take a shower here?" she suggested.

Moving around the bed, she stood close to him. She could smell the sweat on him and it did nothing to lessen her desire. In fact, she thought, after "dating" actors - so many of whom turned out to be perfumed prima donnas - it was good to be near a man who knew how to use his hands.

"Excuse me," he said.

"I could use some help in the shower," she said.

"What's wrong there?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing, except it gets a bit lonely," she answered. "Wanna come help me?"

He looked at her for a moment.

"Look," he said, finally, "I'm not gonna lie; I think you're gorgeous, but I'm not looking to play games here, and I don't need a tenant calling the owner and accusing me of sexual harassment."

"Wha...why would I do that?" she asked, loudly.

She pulled her robe up over her shoulders, and held it closed with both hands.

"Jesus, I was just trying to...you know what? Nevermind," she said, as she tossed the vibe on the bed. "Are you done?"

"I'm sorry," he said, "but a guy like me has to be careful."

"What do you mean, 'careful?'" she asked.

"I'm 6'3", and built like a tank," he said. "And you're, what? Not even a hundred pounds, soaking wet?"

Rachel stared at him, without answering.

"Not to mention the fact that I'm a lot older than you are," he continued. "I can't take a chance that I'm misinterpreting this...whatever this is...and get in trouble," he told her.

She still did not speak.

"I'm sorry," he said, again, and turned toward the door.

"Hey," she said, finally, and reached out to grab his arm. "I'm not trying to get you in trouble. I just..."

"What?" he asked, louder than he intended.

"I just thought we could have some fun," she said. "I mean, you're a man, I'm a woman. I find you attractive, and you said you find me attractive. So..."

"You don't even know me," he said. "How do you know I'm not some kind of maniac who'll strangle you in your bed?"

"Are you a maniac?" she asked, an uneasy smile creasing her lips.

He stepped closer to her. She was startled, and backed up until her shoulder blades touched the wall, gazing up into his eyes as she moved. He continued toward her until his face was within an inch of hers.

"Do you think a crazy person would tell you he's crazy?" he asked.

Rachel looked at him for a moment, then recovered her nerve.

"Do you wanna talk, or do you wanna fuck?" she asked, bluntly.

Before he could answer, she slipped away from him and walked toward the bathroom. She let the robe slip over her shoulders and then drop to the floor.

"I'm going to be in the shower," she said, looking back at him. "You're welcome to join me. If not, please lock the door on the way out."

Bobby watched her ass swing from side to side as she walked, and he followed. As he entered the bathroom, she was leaning into the tub turning on the water. He pulled his t-shirt up over his head and dropped it to the floor.

Turning to look at him, she slid her panties down to her ankles, and stepped out of them. As she straightened her body, he could see the narrow "landing strip" of pubic hair between her legs. Maneuvering her arms behind her back, she unsnapped her bra, and let it fall. He looked at her wonderfully perky A-cup breasts and licked his lips.

"Hurry up," she said, as she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub.

He finished undressing, piling his clothes on top of his shoes. Preparing to enter the shower, he glanced at the sink. Though he was in a hurry to join her, he stopped.

"Hey," he said, "do you mind if I use some of your mouthwash?"

"No, go ahead" she answered above the sound of the water.

Pulling a Dixie cup from the dispenser on the wall, he rinsed a mouth unclean since early that morning when he brushed his teeth before leaving his apartment. That done, he pulled aside the curtain and stepped into the tub behind Rachel. She turned to face him, her body covered with soap suds, and looked down at his already erect cock.

"Oh, my," she said, with a smile.

Using both hands to scoop soap from her skin, she reached out to take hold of him. She stroked the length of him, pulling him into the spray of hot water. The feel of her slippery fingers around him made him moan. At the sound, she let go of him and reached for a bottle of body wash on the shelf below the showerhead.

After squeezing a liberal amount of the gel into her hand, she turned and began rubbing her hands over his body, lathering him as he closed his eyes and leaned against the shower wall. As she rinsed him, he pulled her to him. He leaned over slightly to kiss her mouth. Their tongues found each other, and he turned their bodies - placing her back against the wall. He moved his left hand to the side of her face, holding her as they kissed. She ran her hands over his torso, washing away the last of the soap.

While he continued kissing her, he moved his right hand between her legs. She spread her legs slightly, allowing him greater access to her. He slid his fingers over her clit and it was her turn to moan. Bobby started out slowly, but as their kisses became more urgent, he increased his speed, feeling her body begin to tremble.

He wrapped his left arm around her and she carefully propped her left foot on the side of the tub. Wasting no time, he slid a thick finger inside her, and her body shuddered. Slipping a second finger in, he tried to angle his hand to rub her clit with his thumb. She wrapped her arms around him as she gasped for breath.

"Bobby," she whispered. "You're gonna make me cum."

Moving his mouth to her neck, he kissed it roughly.

"That's right, Baby," he said, between kisses, "cum all over my fingers."

She cried out as her body bucked violently against his. Rachel's legs seemed to lose all their strength, but Bobby held her tightly with his left arm, not allowing her to fall. Her pussy squeezed his fingers as he continued moving them inside her while her orgasm flooded her senses.

Before she could recover, he ran his hands down her back, to her ass, and lifted her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he pinned her between his body and the shower wall. Kissing him deeply, she wiggled enough to reach down with her right hand and guided the head of his cock to her sex.

Bobby slipped inside her, and both gasped. They each looked into the other's eyes as she took the first three inches of him. He paused for a few moments, feeling the heat of her enveloping him, the slippery wetness of her. Then he pulled back slightly and thrust into her again - deeper this time.

"Shit," she cried out, as she raked her fingernails across the skin of his back.

Again, he shoved himself into her, filling her.

"Yes," she hissed. "That's it. Fuck me hard!"

He pulled back a few inches and then drove into her again.

"Oh, God," she screamed, in his ear, now digging her nails into his back.

"Fuck me harder," she demanded.

Bobby complied, slamming himself into her again and again as the water pelted their bodies. She moved her right hand from his back and slid it between their bodies to pinch his left nipple. He grimaced at the pleasurable pain she caused.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, as he rammed his cock into her.

Rachel couldn't reply with words, only letting out a small grunt with each powerful thrust her body received. He maneuvered his right hand farther under her and slid the tip of his middle finger into her ass. As he reached the first knuckle, her eyes rolled back in her head. Her mouth fell open, but no sound emerged. He moved his mouth to her neck as he pushed his finger farther into her ass. She held her breath for a moment, and then moaned a single word in his ear, as she again wrapped both arms around his neck.

"Cum."

Her body shuddered and bucked against his as another orgasm washed over her. He struggled to hold her as she came - the violence of her orgasm, and the slippery floor of the tub, suddenly presenting a very real danger to their physical well-being.

Bobby did not, however, cease thrusting into her. As her pussy squeezed him, he pistoned in and out, his own orgasm quickly approaching. Nor did he remove his finger - now buried to the second knuckle - from her ass. Her body had not yet stopped shaking when he reached the point of no return.

"I'm gonna cum, Rachel," he hissed.

"Not in me," she warned.

She wiggled out of his grasp and dropped to her knees as he turned slightly, allowing her more room between his body and the shower wall. Grabbing his cock with both hands, she stroked it hard and fast.

"Give me that fucking cum," she demanded.

He reached out with his left hand, grabbed her hair, and guided her mouth toward his cock.

"Yes, that's it," she moaned, "cum in my mouth."

As she continued jerking him with both hands, she took the head of his cock in her mouth, running her tongue over the tip; tasting herself on him. His body spasmed violently and he fired a long stream of cum that splashed against the back of her throat.

Rachel moaned loudly and opened her mouth, allowing his cum to spill out and run down her chin, then drip down onto her breasts. He shuddered as he fired stream after stream of cum into her mouth. And, she milked his cock with her hands, trying to pull every drop out of him.

His knees almost buckled as his orgasm weakened his body, and he leaned slightly to rest his shoulder against the shower wall. Looking down at her, he watched as she slowly manipulated his slick cock. She looked up at him and let them last of his cum roll over her lips and down her chin. His body bucked again in reaction to her efforts.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, "I just haven't cum that hard in a long time."

She smiled at him.

"Me either," she said.

He let out a small laugh.

"I'm glad I could fix that problem, too," he said.

It was her turn to laugh.

"You're one hell of a super," she said. "If I ever see him, I'll have to remember to thank the owner for hiring you."

Letting go of his cock, she stood up. Bobby reached out to help her. She wheeled his body so his back pressed against the wall, and carefully slipped past him, placing her body directly in the stream of water. Several times, she let the spray fill her mouth and then spit it out.

"Not very lady-like, I know," she said, as she proceeded to wash his cum off her chin and chest.