Short circuit

A quatrain from my youth got stuck in my teeth: "I walk on the dew, soaking my bare feet, I'm just like everyone else, I want to fuck...". And it latched on. Maybe because my "old lady" went to her sister's, and I've been walking around like a bachelor for a week? It was around ten in the evening. I was sitting and watching some stupid TV series. Apathy came over me, and I was too lazy to even reach for the remote to change the channel.

We live on the ninth floor of a nine-story panel building. The entrance to the floor is closed with an iron door, so strangers don't walk there, and that door is behind the wall behind the TV... Well, and the elevator only goes up to the eighth floor, anyway.

My

attention was drawn to a vague rustling near the entrance door to the floor. It went on for quite a long time, and I decided to see who was fussing around there. When I opened the apartment door, I heard stupid, drunken giggles and swearing about a broken lock. I peeked through the peephole and saw the new neighbor there. I think her name is Lyuda. She was tipsy and trying to open the door. Her key kept either falling on the stairs or missing the keyhole.

I watched her attempts for about five minutes, and then, taking pity, opened the door. She didn't even realize the door was open at first, until she leaned on it and almost fell into my arms. I caught her, feeling her soft breasts under one arm. But she, as if not seeing me, straightened up and went to her door. She stopped there, turned around, and staring at me with a bleary look, hissed:

— And who are you?

— Your neighbor. Lyuda, we met... — I said.

— Really?

— I helped you carry your things.

— Right, — and she laughed drunkenly, — I'm coming from a corporate party, and the lock broke...

— Need some help?

— I can do it myself — she said with a drunkenly self-confident smirk.

— Fine, do it yourself," I thought and went back into the apartment, sitting down in the armchair again. Involuntarily, I listened to the sounds coming from the landing. There was swearing, giggling, and the clinking of falling keys. "She'll be opening her apartment door for another hour like this!" I thought. Then I heard the heavy clatter of heels and a knock on my door. Smiling, I went out into the hallway and opened it.

On the threshold, as expected, stood Lyuda and, holding out her keys, literally said syllable by syllable:

— My lock is broken too. Everything's breaking. That's what it means not to have a man in the house.

— Really? It just broke? — I joked.

— And who are you? — she asked again, staring at me.

— Your neighbor, — I said in exasperation, — need help?

— Can you? Are you a locksmith or something?

— I can. So, open the door?

— Yeah...

I took the keys from her palm, went to her apartment, and unlocked the door. She was still standing near my apartment, looking at her palm and whispering:

— Wow! Now the keys are lost... — and she laughed.

— Lyuda, come on, I opened the door.

— Ta-da! You're a real magician, — she said, looking at me.

— Go on. And don't forget to lock the door, — I said, putting the keys on the shelf in the hallway.

She slowly approached the open door, looked, and said:

— Did I not close the door when I left?

— Uh-huh, — I nodded and went back to my place.

I waited until she locked herself in, and then sat back down in the armchair. Half an hour later, as I was making the bed, there was another knock at the door. Throwing on my wife's robe, I opened the door. On the threshold was her again, though now changed into a robe, with wet hair and slightly sobered up after a shower.

— Hi, — she said, — can you help me?

— What happened? — I was surprised.

— The lights went out in my whole apartment...

— Damn it, — I swore, — and went out onto the landing.

Approaching the panel, I opened the cabinet and flipped the circuit breaker. For a moment, the lights flashed on and then immediately went out, the tripped breaker clicking loudly.

— Do you have a flashlight? — I asked.

— Only a lighter, — she smiled sweetly, — on the balcony...

Swearing under my breath, I went home to get a flashlight. It was clear there was a short circuit somewhere in the apartment, and if it wasn't fixed, there'd be no light... While I was wandering around the apartment with the flashlight, Lida stood on the landing near the panel. In the room, I found a wire crushed by a chair leg. I reached out, picked it up, and started examining it. At that moment, tired of standing idle, she flipped the breakers. There was a flash, I got zapped by the current, and losing my balance, I fell to the floor. My head hit something, sparks flew from my eyes, and darkness fell.

When I came to, the lights were on in the apartment, and I was clutching that very wire, pulled from the socket, in my hands. I myself was lying on the floor. Lida was kneeling beside me, shaking my shoulder. The robe on her chest was open, and very appetizing breasts, softly swaying, touched my body. I immediately wanted to touch those curves, but the pain in my burned hand and the ringing in my head instantly brought me back to my senses.

— What happened? — I whispered.

— You got zapped! — she reported happily, — I accidentally turned the breaker on...

— Why does my head hurt?

— You hit the table when you fell, — she said with a smirk, — but there's no blood, just a bump!

— Ouch. (I swore)...

— Need help getting up? — she offered a hand.

— And maybe something to drink... Do you have anything?

— Of course! Take your pick...

Groaning, I got up and sat on the sofa. Lida went to the kitchen, adjusting the robe on her chest along the way. So much for doing good deeds for people! No wonder they say: "Don't do good, and you won't get evil!"

A voice came from the kitchen:

— What will you have? There's vodka, champagne, and cognac...

— Vodka, — I said and, joking, added, — a glass! And a sandwich with black caviar...

— Sorry, but the caviar is only zucchini, — came the reply.

— Well, whatever you have...

When she entered the room holding a tray, I laughed. On it stood a half-liter glass jar of zucchini caviar, a saucer with sliced bread crusts, and two vessels: a large cup and a shot glass. There was also an opened, pot-bellied bottle of some expensive vodka.

— And what's in the cup? — I asked curiously.

— Well, I don't have any glasses, — she looked down.

— Oh, right... Am I supposed to drink from the cup? And you from the shot glass?

— You asked for a glass!

— That was a joke!

— You old folks are hard to understand: where's the joke and where isn't!

— I'm only fifty...

— That's what I said, old man!

— Fine, pour it in the cup! — I snapped, — calling me an old man!

She shrugged and, placing the tray on the ill-fated table and bending over, started pouring the vodka.

— How much for you?

— Can't you see the rim? And make me a sandwich with that exotic caviar...

— I like that movie too, — she informed me, spreading caviar on a piece of bread, — I'll have a drink with you for company. My head hurts, electrician...

I tried to estimate how old she was. By all accounts, no more than a quarter-century, well, thirty at most. Though unlikely... And her figure, despite the terry robe, was outlined most appetizingly. We drank. The firewater immediately cleared my head, and suddenly I acutely wanted adventures like in my youth. My groin ached from long abstinence, and my apparatus, tucked away in my shorts, suddenly stood at attention.

— Interesting, — I looked at her squinting, — your tits are nice, not ashamed to show them, but what about down there? — and I slapped her material-covered butt.

— Oh, you... — her eyes filled with steel. Her gaze automatically fell on my crotch, which was bulging so much that the shorts stretched by my member were visible between the parted flaps of the robe.

— Wow! What's that there? — she whispered in surprise, that's some size!

— Oh, that... Just an old pensioner... — I murmured, — and it seems he wants to get to know you!

I saw how her gaze filled with lust, how her tongue licked her suddenly dry lips, and even out of the corner of my eye I noticed how her nipples swelled into small bumps under the robe.

Deciding I had nothing to lose, I threw back the flaps and stood before her, lowering my shorts. My protégé appeared before her in all its glory. Her eyes became the size

of saucers. I, not wasting time, reached out and tugged at the belt of her robe. It came undone, and the robe slid from her shoulders to the floor.

As I thought, there was nothing underneath. I pulled the pliant body to me, and my lips immediately sank into hers. When I finished the kiss, she was as if in a stupor...

—... — she shook her head and her mouth opened slightly.

I began slowly inserting my member between her invitingly parted lips. As soon as the head disappeared from view, she seemed to come to her senses, and her little tongue started swirling in her mouth. Though it seemed there was a bit too little room, but I didn't choose its size, and I liked it this way! No lady has ever complained... Of course, it's not my merit. Mom and dad did their part, but still...

When I, like an experienced submariner, tried to increase the depth of immersion, she pressed her hand against my thighs, not allowing it. Her other hand grabbed the shaft, caressing it. After about five minutes, she threw her head back and, looking at my face, said:

— I've never seen one like this. I hope it was grown without pesticides? — she joked and started licking my head.

— Well, maybe just nitrates... — I supported her.

— Mmm... — she purred like a kitten...

— And like this? — I squeezed her breast with my palm. It completely disappeared in it. And it wasn't that the breast was small, rather the palm was big...

— Oh... Yes... — she moaned, moving her tongue even faster.

Her hand grabbed my scrotum and began slowly rolling the testicles inside. Now I was moaning with delight. Then I bent down and, grabbing her under the knees, pulled her up, placing her on my shoulders. After all, an older man, lazy to bend over... I'm not sure she liked this position, but when I pressed against her shaved pubis and, moving my lips, headed for her clitoris, everything else faded into the background for her. Her bent, slender legs straightened and spread apart.

Carefully parting the soft, wet folds, my tense tongue poked at the clitoris. She, who had been just breathing heavily until then — squealed. And I was already fully working the pink bud of ecstasy with my tongue. Her body under my onslaught began to writhe with pleasure, and I had to hold her by force so she "wouldn't slip off the hook." And when she started squealing from an excess of feelings, I slid my tongue into the trembling womb...

— Come on! More... — she whispered, biting her lips.

—... — I answered something inarticulate, delving as deep as I could with my tongue into the hot opening.

— Oh-h... Ah-h! — she echoed, trembling and trying to break free from my grip.

I felt how, from desire and tension, my organ was trembling, and the head was rubbing against her back.

— Come on! Now! — she cried out.

— Now, so now, — I agreed, tearing myself away from the shaved pussy, I hissed.

— Just be careful... Or you'll tear me apart... — she added in a whisper.

— Women, I tell you. They always vulgarize everything! They give birth to babies fifty centimeters long, and here it's just a big "muscle"... — flashed through my head.

I let her go and, without thinking long, put her on all fours, bending her over the side bolster of the sofa. Well, and I, of course, approached from the rear! I positioned the tool at the center and began slowly moving it forward. Then it was like at an airport:

— Contact!

— Contact confirmed!

She moved her hands back and spread her plump lips. A thrust... And my fighter began slowly squeezing into an opening clearly too small for him.

— Oh! Slower... — she whispered.

— Yes, — I continued the penetration.

You know, it's something. When the member is sheathed there like a glove.

— Stop! Wait, let me get used to it, and how does your wife tolerate you...

— Well, I increased her size from the first to the maximum! — I joked, halting the invasion.

She was already all arched, trying to adjust to my "old man." I saw how the skin around the vagina thinned and stretched like a film, and I still had at least a third of the length in reserve...

— Come on... And slower, you ox, — she hissed.

— How much slower can I go, — I think, — I'm not a robot, I can't just go in a millimeter per minute...

I spit on everything and moved forward slowly but surely.

— Ouch, have you gone crazy...

— It's too late to drink the elixir when the liver has died! — a thought slipped through when I was fully immersed.

My efforts were not in vain. To the subsiding hissing (possibly swearing) was added heavy breathing. And she started moving, not accompanying my movements, but in counterpoint. Well, okay.

— What, sweetie, shall we begin? — I slap her butt affectionately