He knocked on her door. He was here to deliver a package. There was no answer. Usually in this situation, he would just leave a notice and try again tomorrow. But he heard music inside. Maybe she hadn't heard him. He knocked again and called. Still no answer. Oh, well. He got ready to leave his note. But he really didn't want to have to come back. This was stupid. On impulse, he tried her door knob. To his surprise, it opened. He would go inside and call again to get her attention.
She had heard him the first time, but didn't answer. She was naked. She didn't want him to see. But she also didn't want to get up and put on clothes. She really didn't want to do much of anything right now. She had been masturbating, and had just had a huge orgasm a moment ago. She was stoned on it. It had nearly knocked her out. She was on her knees on her floor in front of the couch, her face buried in its cushions, her ass raised high, her legs open. The fingers of her right hand had been busy between those legs, while she pinched her nipples with the fingers of her left. Now her arms dangled limply at her sides. She could smell herself. The scent of her arousal permeated the room, especially intense on the juices coating her fingers. She had heard his knock and ignored it. Then she dimly noted the sound of her door opening.
He walked in. He was shocked to see her glistening, exposed pussy presented to him in its full glory. Puffy lips. Juices oozing from her recent adventure. Not a stitch of clothing on it, or the rest of her. Knees spread, legs open. Her scent heavy in the air. Instantly he was hard. Rock hard, painfully pressing against his jeans. He wanted her intensely.
He should have just left her package in the apartment and departed. Instead he found himself putting it down and removing his shoes and pants. He had to have her.
