Dear Diary,

There is no end to the everyday surprises lurking just around the corner. This vignette, abridged for quick reading, is a throwback to an experience from last October, which now in bitterly cold January seems so warm and so very far away.


He saw it first, the white notice on the door of his apartment as we returned from a leisurely dinner of New York steak at the Porch on K Street.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning forward to take a closer look, but my hands wrapped around his waist, insistent and impatient, and instead he turned towards me. I stood up on tiptoes to kiss him, tasting lemons and good scotch, pressing into him with want and need.

Thus he forgot the notice, and so did I, as we moved inside, shedding fall sweaters and scarves in the hallway, moving towards the bedroom. Then his teeth grazed my skin, his hands cupping my full breasts as I moaned, my hands squeezing his ass and fondling his cock, already hard and rising. It was one of those rare moments when his urgency matched mine, his fingers delving inside and finding I was already sopping wet and ready, as I arched my back and held his wrist, saying,

–yes, no, hurry, hurry, please, oh god–

He pinned me to the closet door with one hand and brought me to a climax standing at the edge of the bed, still stepping on the clothes we had so hurriedly discarded, as I writhed and bucked against his palm, shivering with desire,

–please, oh please, I need you, now-now-now–

as I reached for him, as he slid his slick fingers into my mouth and I sucked on them eagerly, knees spread wide as he entered in one long, deep thrust, and then another. I screamed as the friction ricocheted through my body in bolts of pure pleasure as he stroked in and out, gripping him tighter and tighter. Bowing his head he buried his teeth in my neck, as I shuddered in response underneath him, barely holding back enough not to leave bruises as he pounded deep inside again, again, over and over as my hips rose to meet him, as my arms held him close and I repeated his name softly, ever so softly, like a secret.

Eventually, we slept, a tangle of bare legs and arms that gradually sorted itself out during the night.

The next morning I awoke to a squeaky sort of scrape. I turned over, seeking the warmth of his back, tucking my body around his and closing my mind against curiosity.

It’s just the city, I told myself, and fell deeply back into dreamland.

An hour or so later I awoke again, this time with confused images of rain and the sound of windshield wipers puzzling my sleep. With a stretch I rolled over, idly kicking the top sheet off as I stared at the slanting fall shadows reaching across the ceiling.

Was it 10 a.m.? 11? Perhaps there was still time for breakfast…

Carefully and silently I crept out of bed, rolling my shoulders as I strolled past the long wall of picture windows on the way to the bathroom, thinking about blowjobs and brunch. After brushing my teeth and tidying up, with a rueful laugh at my impossible curly hair, I quietly opened the latch. Pale golden pools of light puddled on the concrete floor, and I pirouetted playfully around them, reveling in the last throes of autumn, thinking of running my hand down his side as he slept, the feel of his cock warm and hardening in my hand, the milky flavor of his cum.

I had just skipped into bed, maneuvering to slide my hand under the sheet that still covered him, when I heard the strange sound again.


Startled, I looked towards the source, towards the floor to ceiling windows flanking the entire east wall, past which I had just walked to and fro in all my naked glory.

Pressed up against the glass were three blurred faces, mouths agape and steamy against the pane. A squeegee could just be seen, frozen in mid-wipe, in the far left hand of one man.

Falling flat to the bed I burrowed under the sheet, breathlessly trying to contain the giggles threatening to burst out. I reached out, rubbing his hip lightly, and whispered his name.

“I know,” he replied sleepily. “It’s the maintenance guys.”

Unable to hold back any longer I whooped with laughter, startling the cat sleeping on his other side. As Kilter made a dignified retreat from this new ruckus, I continued my explorations concealed only by the thin top sheet, sliding between his legs and wrapping my lips around his cock. As he sighed and tightened his fingers in my hair, I heard the return of the faltering rubbery squeak as the maintenance men continued their duties.

Outside the apartment, the notice still pinned to the door read:

“TENANTS, please be aware that there will be regularly scheduled maintenance on all windows of the building on Saturday, beginning at 8 a.m. Please draw your blinds if you have privacy concerns.

Thank you,