I had moved out of my mother's house and moved into my own apartment. It was almost perfect: about 20 minutes to school, 15 minutes to work and 30 minutes to the beach. I loved everything about it, except for my annoying neighbor. His name was Adam and he partied and blasted his music every night. But, it was a small price to pay for not having to deal with anymore of Mom's bullshit rules, no curfew; I could have who ever I wanted over whenever. The only thing that made it almost perfect instead of completely perfect was the fact that I didn't get to enjoy it all that much. I had school in the morning and worked most evenings. My student aid helped but I still needed a job to supplement my income. Daddy sent money less frequently by now. After school, I would go home and study or get whatever homework I could get done and go to work, come home and study some more or do more homework. I kept up this routine for about 3 months before I got completely exhausted. Any free time I had was reserved for sleeping. My grades were fine and I was making a little money waiting tables at a sexy little high-class bar and grill, but my social life sucked. I hadn't met anybody, except for at work and I wasn't about to date any guys I worked with. I had grown to be quite bitchy from lack of sleep and sex.
My luck began to change, so I thought, when I waited on this really great guy. I had seen him before but he never sat in my section, until today. I could tell he was older than I was, his hairline slightly receding, with a thick salt and pepper colored mustache. He looked very fit as his dress shirt fit rather tightly on him. I was attracted to him physically (I like older men), but he really caught my attention with his sense of humor and charm. Every time I went to his table he made some flirty remark, almost on the verge of being a dirty old man, but not quite. He introduced himself:
"Sam," he said in a deep, gravely voice, extending his hand.
"Kendra," I replied. "Nice to meet you Sam."
I loved his big rough hands and I wondered how proportionate he was where it counts. We exchanged numbers and made plans for Friday. I was completely shocked when he actually called me later that evening. His voice was even sexier over the phone. I learned he used to play college football and even played a few years professionally and now ran his own law firm. I wanted to invite him over and fuck him that night. He told me more about his travels and adventures around the globe. He eventually confessed to me that he was 48 years old. I told him I was 21 (I was actually 18 at the time). He said he didn't care about the age difference and that he just wanted to have fun. For along time, women had just wanted to use him for his money and he didn't want a serious relationship. Who was I to argue, all I wanted was to have fun too. Besides what kind of relationship could we have besides, well, sex? After speaking on the phone for about two hours we finally decided that he would pick me up on Friday at about 730pm. I hung up the phone and squealed like a schoolgirl. I wanted to skip all of the dating and foreplay. I had made up my mind that I was going to give him some. I went to bed that night with the same sexually frustrated feeling. I couldn't stop fantasizing about Sam and how I wanted to let him use me however he wanted. I wondered if he had ever had a black girl. I bet with all of his traveling, he had sampled every variety of woman there was. I thought about his strong hands moving about my caramel body, his whiskers tickling my thighs as he makes his way to my wetness. My hand moved between my legs (I sleep naked) and began playing with my clit, thinking about Sam. My masturbation session was abruptly interrupted by loud, bass-heavy music. It was coming from downstairs, from Adam's apartment. How convenient: right when I am getting into pleasing myself, my neighbor decides to throw a party. Actually he was always partying and I was always arguing with him to turn down his music. Tonight was no different, except that I was in the middle of something. I got up and threw on my robe. I ran downstairs and pounded on his door.
"Keep that shit down, Adam!" I shouted. "I have to get up early, you know that. Show me some respect please."
For 26 (years old), Adam was such an immature asshole. He had some twisted delusion that I wanted to sleep with him and never took any of my requests or complaints seriously.
"All right baby, but what do I get out of it?" he said sarcastically.
"Just keep it down...pervert," I said, walking back upstairs. I went back inside, took off the robe and went to bed.
Tuesday and Wednesday came and I hadn't heard from Sam. I though about calling him, but didn't want to sound desperate. He already must have thought he had the upper hand with me being so young. Truth was he did. I was desperate and I was attracted to him. So, I just waited. Each night I went to bed, pleasing myself, fantasizing about Sam.
On Thursday, I was in full bitch mode. I snapped at everyone who spoke to me. I even got a complaint from a customer who said I just walked by ignoring him. My manager, Cindy, approached me about my attitude. I explained to her about my recent deprivation and she was very understanding. She let me go home early. Once I got home, I decided to call Sam. I kept getting his voicemail and on about the tenth try, I left a message expressing how much I wanted to see him and I even hinted at the fact that I wanted to fuck him. "...it will definitely be worth your time" I think I said, something corny like that. I went to bed that night, still yearning for Sam. I was almost completely unconscious when Adam pumped up the volume. "Not again," I thought. I really wasn't in the mood to go downstairs and tell this idiot to keep quiet. I was just to tired to deal with him, so I just put the pillow over my head and eventually fell asleep.
Friday arrived and still, no word from Sam. Needless to say, my day was pretty shitty. In the morning I learned that I got a C on my last test (I am an A student, always have been), Friday, at the restaurant was busy as hell and I had a night of finger banging myself to look forward to. By the time I got home, I pretty much accepted the fact that Sam would not show. However, I still got myself together. I showered, did my make-up and straightened my hair. I put on a little, light dress that had little tiny straps. It fit tightly around my body and the color (cocoa brown) matched my body almost perfectly. If you saw me from a certain distance, it would look like I wasn't wearing anything. I decided to go without a bra, show off some cleavage you know. I added some 4-inch pumps to give me a little lift and accentuate my legs. It was 7:40 by the time I finished getting ready, and my phone had not rang yet. I was pissed. I waited until 8:00 and decided to go to the Edge, where I had friends who worked there and would serve me (alcohol). I sat at the bar and had few drinks. I tried getting down on the dance floor but really wasn't in the mood. I kept thinking about how Sam and I hit it off and how I was going to take him back to my place and let him have his way with me. I went back to the bar and drank some more. I watched other couples dance, guys pick up on girls and vise versa. All of these images made me upset and I grabbed my purse and left in a hurry. My mind was a wash with alcohol and I wasn't thinking to clearly. Since the Edge was so close to my apartment, I decided to walk back home forgetting that I drove there in the first place. As I marched back home, I kept thinking about how guys were such assholes, coming up with things I was going to say when I got home and called Sam.
It was 11:00 when I arrived at the apartment complex. I reached my steps and could see Adam was having a party. This was bigger than his usual bashes. Cars were lined up on the street outside the complex. His door was open and there were people everywhere, outside even. I spotted Adam's skinny ass sitting on the sofa, stormed into his door, made my way through a crowd of people and let him have it.
"What the fuck is this!?!" I hollered. "I thought I told you about this partying bullshit..." I just went off. He just looked at me, dumbfounded, not sure if he was really seeing this, and maybe by the smell of pot smoke in the air, he wasn't sure he was seeing me make a scene at his party. I belted him with expletive after expletive, rolling my neck and shaking my finger. I finished venting, turned and walked out the door. I stomped back upstairs and plopped on the couch. The alcohol, mixed with my emotions took hold of me and I began sobbing. The stress of living on my own for the first time was really getting to me and getting stood up was the straw that broke the camel's back. After a quick "feel sorry for myself" session, I realized it would be wise not to call Sam, at least not tonight. I, sadly, went to my room and stripped down to my panties and put on a little t-shirt, sat on the couch and turned on the TV. No sooner had I sat down, someone was knocking at my door. I looked out the peephole and saw a tall stick figure standing there with his hands behind his back. It was Adam. I opened the door a crack and asked: "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to make peace," he said apologetically. "Can I talk to you for a second?'
"Go ahead," I said, through the cracked door. I was still a little bitchy, but was kind of stunned by Adam's odd behavior. "Hold on, let me put something else on." I continued, feeling a little sorry for going off on him. I went to my room and threw on some sweat pants and let Adam in. He looked like he always did: flip flops, shorts, tank top, and a backwards hat covering his sloppy, unkempt hair.
"Just wanted to say I am sorry for all of the noise...all of the time." He said, coyly.
"It's okay, just keep it down every once and a while, you know I work and go to school full time." I said, noticing he was standing with his hands behind his back. "Why are you standing like that? What do have behind your back?"
Adam extended his right hand and produced a bottle of tequila, and then extended his left hand revealing a fat joint.
