The little red convertible swooped into the lane, almost clipping the fender of Gwen's car. She swerved onto the shoulder of the highway, shouting curses at the receding tail end of the sports car. Fishtailing slightly, Gwen brought her car to a stop off of the road, cars whizzing past her without care. She folded her arms over the steering wheel and laid her head on them, taking deep breaths to relax her frazzled nerves.
A few minutes later, Gwen lifted her head and sat back in her seat. "Motherfucker!" she screamed, and flipped off the convertible that was at least five miles away from her by then. She spent the next minute trying to join the traffic flow and continued her drive home.
Gwen pulled into the cracked driveway of the duplex she rented in a poor but not destitute neighborhood. The rumor was that it had been a very nice neighborhood fifty years before, but it had declined rapidly over the last twenty years, and continued to do so at an increasing pace. She turned off the engine and waited until it rattled to silence before forcing the door open and getting out. The door creaked loudly when she closed it, and she put her hip to the door to secure it.
Her shirt was off before her apartment door was completely closed, and she kicked off her sneakers and peeled off her jeans on the way to the bathroom. She hit the light switch and began to run water into the sink, listening to the "tink, tink" sound of the flickering fluorescent light bulb before it lighted and stayed lit. The bathroom of the old apartment was painted yellow, and had old vinyl flooring that was cracked in places and curled up at the edges and corners. The tub was plastic, a single piece forming the shower/bath, but the counter top was real tile, and the sink enameled.
She pulled her hair out of her ponytail and shook it out, running her fingers through her thick, auburn hair. It felt greasy and had no luster, but at least she'd succeeded in growing it out past her shoulders. Normally she became upset and cut her hair short before it got that far.
She removed her bra and lifted her pert breasts in her hands, sneering disgustedly when she felt the sticky sweat that coated the lower swell. "I'm twenty-three years old!" Gwen screeched at herself in the mirror. "I deserve better than this!"
Gwen's work day began at five in the morning, when she'd crawl out of bed and take her first shower. She'd dress and eat a slice of toast with orange juice, and then drive for forty-five minutes through heavy early morning traffic to arrive at the plant by six thirty. She'd clock in and take her place on the line, inserting three eprom chips into each circuit board that passed her on the assembly line while she stood and felt the pain in her feet grow by the minute.
At eight thirty she'd take a ten minute break, and then clock out for her half hour lunch at ten thirty. She ate in the lunch room, surrounded by people she didn't like or have any common interests with. She had another ten minute break at one, and then left to go home at three, the afternoon traffic usually taking about an hour.
She stepped from the shower and remembered she'd left her only towel in the hamper in her room. She hurried to her bedroom and pulled the towel out, drying herself and wrapping her hair up in it. She intended to climb onto her bed and watch her little black and white television for an hour or so, but when she turned toward the bed something caught her eye.
Outside her bedroom window there had been a tall palm tree, but it was gone. She walked to the window and looked down and saw yellow tape intended to keep anyone from falling into the hole where the tree's roots had been. Sighing, Gwen looked out from her window at the new view. Directly across from her window was another window, the house next door being only fifteen feet away.
Through that window she saw a man. It was the cute new neighbor who'd moved in a few weeks before. She'd admired his handsome face and nice body, but she hadn't really had any opportunity to meet him yet. He was tall, about six foot three, and he had gorgeous green eyes that complimented his tanned complexion and thick black hair that was cut short. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe forty, and he had seemed very fit.
He was moving around in his bedroom, and Gwen gasped softly when he peeled his tight shirt off over his head, revealing the rippling muscles of his back. His arms were impressive too, as finely cut as any youthful punk, but not overly muscled like a body builder. Her breathing quickened when he unbuckled his belt, and she put her finger to her lip when he dropped his pants to display his superbly muscled thighs and tight, hard ass. He turned slightly, and the bulge in the front of his white briefs made Gwen shiver.
The man left the window and Gwen laid down on her bed and started to rub herself wildly, finding she was already ripe and wet. In no time at all she'd brought herself to orgasm, crying out loudly when she came. The thought of his powerful arms, of running her hands over the hard muscles of his chest and stomach, of his intense green eyes, proved too much to deny.
* * * * *
Gwen had last had sex about a year before, when she'd been left at the bar by a girlfriend who'd gotten lucky with a cute stock broker. She'd drank too much, and had woken up in the bed of a fifty-two year old who was balding and whose bed had smelled slightly of Scotch. She'd been able to dress quietly and sneak away without waking him, despite the fact that her head had been pounding and her stomach sick.
Six months before that she'd broken up with Herb, a boy her age whom she had dated for nearly a year. The sex had been okay, and he had been cute and very charming, but she'd lived in fear of the results of her medical screening after finding out how promiscuous he'd been while they'd been dating, and how indiscriminate. She'd gone to church the Sunday after the results came back, keeping her promise to God.
Before Herb there had only been Roy. He had been very sweet, but overweight and not big on personal hygiene. They had been each other's first, and he'd ruined their friendship by pawing her and making lewd comments to her after they'd done it. She noticed that about Herb as well. As soon as she slept with him, her name changed to "Babe", and he felt he had the right to grab her inappropriately.
The only offer she'd had for sex that she'd entertained in the last year since the one night stand, was a fascinating woman named Julie. They went to the same bar and Gwen had mistaken Julie's flirting for friendship, right up until the lingering fingertips on her thigh. With her eyes closed she could come fantasizing about Julie, but frankly, the real thing scared the shit out of her.
* * * * *
Gwen was still panting and covered with perspiration, her fingers slick with her cum, when her cell phone rang. She indecorously wiped her hands on her bedspread and found her phone still in the pocket of her discarded jeans. Seeing the caller ID, Gwen flipped open the phone and held it to her ear as she went through the apartment gathering her clothes.
"Hi Ronnie," she said, her voice still husky from her arousal.
"Oh Baby," Ronnie laughed, her own voice scratchy from her pack a day habit. "You sound like you just got fucked! Spill!"
Gwen blushed deeply and giggled. The phone was cradled on her shoulder and she tossed her dirty clothes into her hamper. She noticed the smell of sex in her bedroom and glanced at the window nervously. "Nah, I wish!" Gwen said, trying to get her voice back to normal. "I was just um, I just got home from work."
Ronnie gave an evil laugh and said, "Yeah, I know what you were doing. Sorry to interrupt you, but I kinda hoped you'd go with me to The Grotto tonight. Maybe we can find one of those things you need with a guy attached to it."
"That's the problem," Gwen said, cocking her hip and putting her finger to her lip, "they usually are." She agreed to go, and Ronnie promised to pick her up at eight. She jumped back into the shower for a minute, to get the smell of sex and the sheen of perspiration off of her, and then, towel again wrapped around her head, she went into her bedroom to pick out a suitable outfit.
Ronnie had told Gwen that her biggest problem was her need for a make over. She was average height, five foot six barefoot, and weighed one forty on her small frame, a bit soft and a little thicker than she wanted to be. In high school she'd weighed about one fifteen and had turned heads, but then the additional weight had also added a full cup size to her now large grapefruit-sized breasts. She had liked her legs better when she was thinner, but she had to admit they still got looks.
Taking out her "Date Underwear", consisting of a black lace push-up bra and matching low-rise string bikini panties. Since it was hot out, she decided against stockings or tights, and picked out a short black pleated skirt that showed several inches of thigh above her knees. Her green satin empire top with a v-neck would show off her cleavage while complimenting her light skin, auburn hair, and hazel eyes. A simple gold chain necklace finished off her look, and she went into the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup.
Gwen used her blow dryer while she brushed out her hair, and her thick tresses fell straight and shined. Smiling at the one thing she liked most about herself, Gwen created a soft part on the left that allowed her bangs to sweep down over her eyebrows and to hide her eyes if she wanted to be mysterious.
A few passes of the mascara brush and accompanying eyeliner made her eyes "pop", and she applied a minimum of pale green shadow. Other than that, she had only to apply a bit of bright red lipstick and she was ready to go, which was a good thing because Ronnie arrived at that moment. Gwen paused only to put on her best black sandals with a four inch heel.
