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Still nothing.I made my way down the stairs. I was not a happy neighbor. I banged on the apartment door below mine. I was ready to unload of my neighbor, whom I had never taken the time to meet, when the door opened and “Mr. McDreamy” peered back at me.The first words out of his mouth were, “I’m sorry, I didn't know how late it was.”He was in his mid-thirties and had a square jaw line, a little facial stubble, jet black hair and steely blue eyes. GQ Quarterly lived under me and I didn’t even know it.Almost simultaneously, I became extremely aware of how God-awfully unkempt I must have appeared, with my hair a mess, my make-up clearly smudged and wearing nothing but a pull-over t-shirt and my panties.“I’m sorry,” I replied, “It’s just that I am tired.”He said he understood and before I knew it, he had closed the door. I trudged back up to my apartment and back to my bed. As I lay there, I couldn’t get the image of my down stairs neighbor out of my mind. I wondered if he was single, or. Feeling squished and loving him there and kissing and a little nip or two and, well, yes. And yes.I came back in time to look over and see Tommy pull out from Carla and spray her boobs and tummy. Not as strong as before, sure, but still pretty good. Happy Carla, smiling.We were all quiet for a bit. Quiet enough so that just like that time before at Monica's house, I told you about it, I think, when I thought her mom or dad might have been watching us, I heard a rustle from the hall. This time there wasn't any doubt about it. Carla's dad was standing there, nude, his cock erect and his hand stroking. I guess he figured we were too distracted to notice him or he was too far along to care, because in a second or two he was pumping and spurting all over the carpet.Was it us all together that turned him on, I wondered, or was it watching his daughter get fucked in front of the fire?Studying with Dan in FebruaryOK, I admit it. I'm crappy at math. Algebra is Greek to me, if that makes any.
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