[THIS STORY WAS CUSTOMIZED FOR 'PSD' ABOUT HIS NEIGHBOR. ALTHOUGH THIS STORY IS BASED ON REAL PEOPLE, ALL NAMES HAVE BEEN FICTIONALIZED.]
* * * * *
The day wasn't even half over and Ty was exhausted. He'd already, swept out the laundry room, unstopped a bathroom sink in 204, fixed a garbage disposal in 402, and replaced a dead light bulb in the lobby. Managing a 35 unit apartment building in North Seattle wasn't the kind of career that his four years in the Navy prepared him for, but at least he was working.
With the last task on his morning to-do list complete, he was more than ready to grab some lunch. He tossed the dead bulbs in the trash can and returned the step ladder to the basement utility closet across from his apartment.
He was thinking about taking a quick nap to recharge his batteries when a shrill shout from the other end of the hall scrambled his thoughts.
"EXCUSE ME β WHAT ARE YOU DOING DOWN HERE?"
Ty turned around to see a short, doughy white guy with short brown hair and a neatly trimmed goatee walking toward him. He didn't recognize him but just assumed it was a tenant he hadn't met yet.
"Just putting some stuff away. My name is Ty Stokes; I'm the new apartment manager," he said and extended a hand.
The stranger looked a little flustered and hesitated before returning a limp, tentative handshake.
"
You're
the new manager," he replied incredulously.
His voice was a little on the high side, more like a woman or teenage boy than a man. Ty assumed this character didn't have much experience around black people and was a little uncomfortable being so close to one.
"Yeah, I've been on the job for about two weeks now."
"Hey, that's great! You're the man I've been looking for! My name is David Weaver; my wife and I live in 506."
The guy struck Ty as being uptight and a little on the nervous side, so he decided to cut him some slack.
"What can I do for you, David?"
"Nothing much really...we're having some trouble with the fan in our bathroom. It only works occasionally and when it does, it makes this ungodly racket."
"No problem β I'll be up to replace it later this afternoon. Is that cool?"
"Great!" David cheerily replied. "I'll be home until around 1:30; if you could stop by before then, I'd really appreciate it."
With that, David vanished down the hall as quickly as he appeared.
Hoping for a little peace, Ty let himself into his place and grabbed a carton of leftover Chinese food from the fridge. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the blinking red light of the answering machine.
Damn
, he thought.
I know who that probably
is
.
His suspicions were confirmed when he hit the playback button.
"Yo baby β where you been hidin'? You ain't been to the club in a while! What's the matter, baby; don't you wanna see me? Call me later, we'll have us some fun! Bye-bye βand don't forget to call me!"
It was Tasha Banks; a girl he'd been seeing off and on for a couple of months. He liked her, but decided to keep his distance when she started getting a little more serious than he liked. If he ignored her, hopefully she'd stop calling.
"Aren't there any women out there who just wanna fuck? Why do they always have to mess everything up by getting' all possessive and shit," he wondered aloud.
Ty finished off the remains of the Chinese food, tossed out the carton and went into the bedroom to crash.
It was 1:45 in the afternoon when he awoke. After splashing some water on his face, he figured he'd take care of the problem in 506 before tackling anything else. He grabbed his toolbox and a new fan from the utility closet and took the elevator to the fifth floor.
Once outside the apartment, he set his toolbox down and knocked on the door.
Expecting to see David, Ty was pleasantly surprised when
Mrs
. Weaver opened the door. David might have been a fussy, uptight, little fool, but he had certainly done alright for himself in the wife department.
The first thing he noticed about
Mrs. Weaver
was her face. She had a fair, freckled complexion and vivid green eyes that twinkled when she smiled. She was one of those women that didn't need any make-up in order to look beautiful. A mane of thick red hair, which she wore pulled back into a ponytail, complimented her soft angelic features perfectly.
"Hi! I'm Annika, you must be our new apartment manager - come on in; David told me you might be stopping by."
"Uh β yeah, I'm Ty," he mumbled as she ushered him inside.
As he followed her to the bathroom, Ty got a good look at the whole package; he liked what he saw.
She had a slender athletic build with long, smooth, ivory legs and a tight, round ass under a pair of white tennis shorts. She wasn't as busty as he liked, but he could tell that there was a nice handful under that baggy t-shirt. He estimated her age at around 24 or 25. At 5'5" she was about the same height as her husband.
"So do you think you can fix it," she asked, pointing to the fan vent on the bathroom ceiling.
"Sure, no problem; It'll only take a minute or two."
Careful to conceal the bulge in his pants, Ty turned away from her as he climbed up on the bathroom counter with a screwdriver.
From the corner of his eye, he checked her out discretely s he unscrewed the cover from the vent.
Annika perched on the edge of the tub and crossed her long, white legs as she watched him go about his business.
"So Ty, what did you do before you decided to become our apartment manager?"
Normally Ty couldn't stand small talk with the tenants, but in Annika's case he was more than happy to make an exception.
"Well, I just got out the Navy about two months ago. I got this gig by answering an ad in the
Weekly
."
"Really," she gushed. "The Navy -that must have been exciting! I'll bet you've seen quite a bit of the world?"
The only thing Ty saw
quite a bit of
was the engine room of the destroyer he served on; however, he did do his fair share of traveling.
"Yeah, that was one thing the Navy was good for; I've been to Japan, the Philippines, Guam, Hawaii, and a few other places."
"Jeepers, I so envy you; I've never even been outside of the United States."
Ty smiled. He didn't mention the fact that the only thing he cared about when he got off the ship was looking for pussy.
"Um -Annika, would you do me favor and hand me the new fan?"
"Sure," she said and dutifully handed it up to him.
During the handoff, he snuck a quick peek at her chest. The erect nipples poking at her shirt provided quite a treat. They were
nice and pointy