Amy

Maybe if you weren't so hot, I wouldn't be so hard.

I slammed the door of Doña Maria's apartment shut and let the air fall out of my lungs as Chandler's words repeated themselves in my head.

I pressed the button for the ground level once I reached the elevator, even more fired up…and a lot turned on. It was strange to be accused of turning a guy on when for months I’d been accused of being a turn off. It was both confusing and kind of sexy.

Restless, I tapped my foot as I waited for the elevator. It was an old building and the elevator was quite janky, but finally it arrived, and I opened the old-fashioned metal cage.

The guy I was going on a date with was going to be so screwed. I'd be nodding and smiling while Javier spoke Spanish that I could barely understand, and meanwhile, all I would be thinking about was Chandler's hot body. His sexy voice. His cocky tone.

I needed someone to coach me out of this mood I was in, to remind me that as charming as Chandler was, he was definitely the kind of man who would dump you after one night. It made sense in my brain, but my brain was fighting hard against my reason. Thirty, to be exact.  

And now, I was soaked. In the several months with Scott, I hadn't gotten this wet when he was going down on me, yet being around this man it was instantaneous. It was almost unfair what Chandler could do to me.

As the elevator dinged to the ground floor, I stepped out and dug around in my purse. I needed to call Becca for a sounding board.

A few seconds of digging made me realize I had no phone.

"Goddamn it!" I muttered, loudly. An older woman was walking toward the elevator, and she smiled at me, surely not understanding my English swear.

I pressed the button to go back up to the sixth floor. Wet panties and no phone was no way to attend my date, which I honestly had less than zero interest in now.

The woman smiled as I let her get in the elevator before me. Her broad grin brought out all of the wrinkles in her face. We began our upward ascent and I wondered why she was so happy.

After a brief farewell smile, I got off on my floor. Inside the apartment, I headed to my bedroom. Before I arrived to my room I heard a whisper that sounded like it was coming from Chandler's room.

"Amy," the voice murmured.

I arched an eyebrow and headed to Chandler's room to see what he wanted.

I was about to knock when I heard him moaning. Instead, I peered through the crack in his door and my jaw dropped. My purse slid down in my hand and I hung onto it by a single finger, avoiding the embarrassment of Chandler seeing me watch him.

He was on his bed, completely naked with the lights out. The moonlight seeped into the room, the only available light. I could see his eyes tightly shut and his back arched as he stroked his hard length. I froze, unable to look away.

"Mmm. Amy," he grumbled again.

I should have walked away that instant, but I couldn't. The truth was, it was the hottest thing I had ever seen: watching him touch himself like that, his hands wrapped around himself as he stroked up and down as he murmured my name.

For the next minute, ten minutes—honestly, it felt like a lifetime and a flash at once—I continued to stare through that crack in the door like a creep. Was he really thinking about me? I was never the hot girl in high school. Nerdy and slightly awkward with people? Absolutely. Why didn't he watch porn like a normal guy, like my ex always did?

I couldn't help it; I pictured myself squatting on that thick, hard cock of his. How I would feel on top of him, my ass hitting his hips, his hands guiding me as I glided up and down on the thing—

Fuck.

Oxygen. I needed some. If my panties were wet before, now they were caught in a thunderstorm.

I felt my pussy clench hard around nothing and begin to pulse.

My brain yelled at me, “Get away from this man, from this peep show if you know what's good for you…he'll open his eyes soon!”

Yet, I couldn't. Chandler's breathing increased and he began to growl on top of the covers. "Yes. Yes. Fuck. Amelita."

Holy fuck. Well, unless he knew two Amelitas—highly unlikely—this had to be me.

I clenched again and did the unthinkable… I reached a finger between my legs and slid my panties to the side. Not good enough.

I slid them down my legs and began to finger myself.

Ok this was bad. Hearing him with his girlfriend and getting off in my room was one thing but I’d never, ever thought about looking in on someone like this, much less touching myself while watching someone masturbating. But Chandler was the hottest man alive, and he was saying my name. No, scratch that. My Spanish nickname. Almost like it was an endearment.

I didn’t know we were on such a friendly basis, but this was quickly becoming the single hottest moment of my life. I pulled up the side of my skirt, my panties falling completely to the ground as I ran a finger on myself.

It felt completely forbidden watching this, and without him knowing, it made it even more explicit. And maybe that’s what made it all the more hot. I grazed my clit with my finger, careful not to rub too hard that I’d moan. If Chandler heard me, I’d die of embarrassment. Not to mention he might hate me for the next two months.

I reached the tip of my finger inside me, wondering what it would be like to experience Chandler’s hard cock inside me instead of just my finger. Sweet Jesus that would be a fun ride I’d never want to get off.

Get off. I couldn’t help myself from increasing the pressure of my finger on my slit. I wanted more pleasure and I wanted to keep watching him.

I closed my eyes. The angel in me told me I needed to stop what I was doing and go back to my room. Chandler, apparently, brought out the devil in me.

Pleasure came in waves, and I thought I might come right there, standing up. I opened my eyes and saw Chandler pumping hard, about to come.

He yelled my name again, louder this time.

“Amy,” he growled into the room’s soft blue moonlight.

****

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The Casanova Experience