This is a work of fiction. It is for entertainment purposes only, and should not be taken seriously by anyone.
Note to reader: This is the third chapter to a story that began with Some Like it Rough and Back For More Already? To know how we got here, take a look. Otherwise, enjoy yourself.
**
Sherica sighed as she set down her gym bag by the front door.
It was warm out, and after a long day, she planned to take a nice, cool shower. Then, she could figure out dinner, and her boyfriend would be home a little later.
Just a normal day. Another day of normal.
No infidelity.
No kinky sex.
No rolling the dice without protection.
She was going to be a good girl. A loyal woman to a loyal man.
She looked at herself in the mirror, and sighed.
Another day of normal.
Just get it out of your head.
That's all over now.
She sighed again.
Her eyes drifted to her neighbor's house next door.
Normal is so boring.
It killed her to admit it. It really did. But even now, she felt the longing.
The need.
She had tried. Lord knows, she had tried. But she was going out of her mind. She was so horny she might climb a wall.
Sherica had always just assumed she had a low sex drive. But something had stirred her up and it wasn't going away.
And she knew exactly who was responsible.
She went to the window.
Mac's truck was in the driveway. He was there.
Just knowing he was so close, that he was physically near, tied her stomach in knots and sent sparks firing through her body.
It would be so easy.
Tre would never know. What he doesn't know won't kill him.
Stop.
You do this every day. Every day you think about going back over there.
You made a promise to yourself to be a good girl.
Buuuuutttt.....
Promises are made to be broken. Besides, I've been a good girl for weeks now.
There's nothing wrong with a little cheat day. That's all it is.
Nothing wrong with that.
There is nothing to be had, except heartache and guilt and shame.
There's nothing to be had in that house.
Nothing but pleasure.
Pleasure at the hands of her older, white neighbor. A man who knew her body better than anyone. A man who knew what aroused her most, who would pleasure her till she screamed and would then keep going.
Mac could give that to her.
It was dangerous. Exciting. She knew she was playing with dynamite. She was risking everything, her relationship, her reputation, her future.
Sherica shuddered, remembering what he did to her standing in the window.
She had been so good since.
She had not gone back to Mac since.
In fact, she had not had sex since.
She had been giving Treshaun the cold shoulder after Mac told her to stop putting out.
But so what? All couples go through dry spells once and awhile. Nothing to be worried about. That was a coincidence.
Just like it was a coincidence that she would be thinking about him in the shower, not her boyfriend.
She found a glass from the cabinet and took a drink of water.
If she was going to make it another day, she needed to cool off immediately.
Then, she happened to look up at the ceiling.
She looked again. Then she stared at it.
"Oh shit."
Sherica grabbed a chair and climbed on top. Close enough to touch. Yep, that's water coming through the ceiling.
She ran her hands through her hair. Tre was away at school and knew nothing about tools. She didn't either.
She debated what to do.
Her family and family connections lived outside of town.
Someone from school? She didn't know anyone like that.
Someone from the local church? She snorted. She had no use for those people.
There was only one man close enough who could help her right now.
Am I really going to do this?
Am I REALLY going to do this??
She looked next door. He's home, and he must have all kinds of tools he could use to fix this.
She could feel herself getting tense, excited.
If he comes in here, she reminded herself, there's no way he leaves without fucking you.
She went to the mirror.
Her nipples were getting hard at the thought of his big, powerful hands on her bare skin again.
Sherica bit her lip. The girl in the mirror was hot and sweaty. Should she clean up? Should I do something with my hair, maybe a little makeup?
Then she laughed at herself.
Mac would have her anytime, just as she was. She didn't need to impress him.
It was one of the charms of this strange relationship.
She looked good. She had been taking her sexual frustration out on the gym and it showed.
She just needed to keep his hands off her long enough to fix the leak.
"This is a mistake. You're making a mistake," Ms. Rational screamed.
"Maybe," Miss. Irrational replied, throwing back a shot and making eyes with the bartender. "But it's not that big of a mistake. At worst, it's just a cheat day."
A minute later, Mac Fulton opened his door. Something on her face must have startled him because his smile disappeared fast.
"I need your help," she said.
*
When Sherica came to his door, Mac knew it was no time for jokes.
He followed her into the house, and she brought him to a spot where water was coming through the ceiling.
"Hmmm. Well, That's not good."
"Yeah, no kidding. What do we do?"
"Shut the water off."
"Oh thanks, Einstein."
She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip.
Goddamn she looks good, he thought. I can't believe she held out this long.
You need to focus. Stop looking at the pretty girl and concentrate. This could actually be a real problem.
Mac went to the second floor and shut off the valves.
Initially, he thought maybe she had done it herself so she had an excuse to invite him in.
She wouldn't be the first to do that.
But then he had a look around. It didn't take long to isolate the problem.
It also gave him a chance to look around.
The bedroom and bathroom were tastefully decorated with paintings of landscapes and animals from Africa.
In the bathroom, next to a black and white stencil painting of a giraffe, he found fluffy towels. There were all kinds of bottles and jars of things scattered about and the bathroom and he smelled the fragrance of a scented candle. In a corner of the sink were her boyfriend's things, the only sign of his presence aside from scattered beard hair in the sink bowl.
He called her upstairs to the bathroom.
"A pipe burst under the floor," he explained. "The water is leaking, and that's why your ceiling is fucked up."
"Okay. What do you do for that?"
Mac scratched his face. There were no easy answers.
"Your insurance should cover it. But that leaves you hanging for however long it takes them to process your claim."
Sherica understood his line of thinking immediately.
"Which can take ages."
