Standing at my open door, I was stunned, couldn’t believe my eyes — there stood my beauty. How could she know about me?

“Hello,” she said, her tone sultry, a smile on her full ruby lips. “Seeing you every morning and night watching me and copying me as I masturbate, I thought I’d come over to see you in person. May I come in?”

I blinked and gulped. “Oh, erm… yes,” I croaked and stood to one side. “Please, come in.”

“You’ve watched me for as long as I can remember,” she said as I closed the door behind her. “I’ve watched you mimic my every move, now I want to mimic yours. By the way, you’re even lovelier close up.” 

Before I could acknowledge the compliment, she’d turned and walked to my chair by the window. “And here… ahhh, right here —” She took a deep breath and paused while running a hand over the padded arms. “Right here is where you sit with your legs spread over these arms. As I moved, you would move. But now, I’m here to watch you. And I will move as you move.”

Looking at her smiling at me, I didn't know what to say or do. I was dumbstruck, amazed that she was here in my apartment. Suddenly, she let her coat slither to the floor and I took a quick intake of breath: she was gloriously naked. Instantly, I wanted to reach out and touch the beauty I’d watched for so long. 

Did I dare?

She turned and sat in the chair, the very chair in which I’d sat for months watching her at every opportunity, watching her strip and caress her sumptuous curves. “Show me what I did,” she said. “Show me, touch me the way you touched yourself, mimicking me. Touch me the same way.”

I removed my T-shirt and dropped it on top of her coat. Bending, I stroked her face, the skin as silky as the nighties she wore. I continued down to her proud breasts. I’d admired them so many times from a distance and now I had my hands on them, feeling her puffy nipples. I gently squeezed them and watched her eyes close, heard her moan: moans I always knew would be soft and needy.

As I ran my hands over her breasts and on to her tummy, I also kissed my way down. I knew that kissing was different, something that had been impossible. Yet, I couldn’t resist: I needed my lips on her beautiful skin. So soft, so delicate. As I kissed my way down, she didn’t object but spread her legs over the chair’s arms. Yes, she mimicked what I’d done and she was open for me. 

Her pussy was even more delectable close up: the smell that I could only imagine from a distance was enticing and her labia glistened with dripping juices. I kissed her soft mound and eagerly employed my needy tongue to separate her labia. While I worked my tongue, I gently sought her opening with my long fingers.

She rocked and thrust her hips as though hunting for my fingers, wanting them to penetrate her. She was in need. Those days and nights I’d watched her, the desperate way she shoved her toy cock into her vagina, was the same way she was responding now. She craved my fingers inside of her. “Yes,” she hissed as I slid a couple of them deep into her squelching pussy.

Her hips now moved in rhythm with my probing fingers and when I sucked her swollen clit, her gasps and moans became screams. She sounded just the way I’d imagined. Then, with a final thrust of her hips, she squeezed hard on my fingers and I knew she was approaching climax. I rubbed on her magical G-spot, clamped my lips on her sensitive clit, and heard her gasp that she was coming.

I struggled to keep my mouth tight on her clit as she bucked and thrashed against my hard and fast finger-fucking until she suddenly exhaled loudly and slumped back in the chair. Then and only then did I withdraw my sticky fingers.

I wrapped my arms around her trembling body and held her close until her breathing returned to normal and she was no longer shaking. 

”I knew it would be like this with you,” she said and buried her head in my breasts.

Grasping her hands, I eased her up from the seat and walked her to my bed. We lay in each other’s arms and kissed, tongues gliding in and out, dancing around for some time. 

We were both hungry — but not for food. She trailed her lips down my neck and throat to my breasts where she sucked my nipples one after the other. I groaned and felt my juices leaking while she continued kissing down my tummy until she slid between my legs. She lifted them at the knees and spread me wide. My wet cunt was waiting for her mouth and she lapped her broad tongue along it before easing back my hood and nibbling on my clit. It was all so thrilling and the sensations increased when she teased fingers along my slit. Eventually, she entered and scissored inside of me, provoking an intense reaction I’d never felt before. I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to come. 

I guess she sensed I was getting close because she lifted her head, released my legs, and moved up my heaving body until our tits and pussies pressed against each other. Our gentle rhythm, the rocking of our hips, was perfect and the friction on our clits set us both off again. I squeezed her extended nipples as we both came in a heavenly mixture of screams, sighs, and floods. 

Lying side-by-side, I closed my eyes and we kissed again, soft kisses, her warm breath in my mouth. I relaxed, absolutely satisfied. 

Next thing, I awoke in an empty bed. I jumped out and went into the lounge but she wasn’t there. Why had she gone without waking me? It had been a beautiful night. Had I done something wrong?

I went to the window and looked across to see if she was in her bed. But her apartment looked empty. It surely couldn’t be but… the bed she’d played on, the nightstand where she’d kept her favorite cock, they’d gone. Everything had gone. 

What had happened? Where is she?

Putting on jeans and a T-shirt, I went to the apartment manager and asked him where my beauty was. 

“Who are you talking about? Beauty? There’s nobody called Beauty living here.”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head, “that’s not her name… I mean the woman in sixteen-thirteen. Where is she? Her apartment looks empty.”

The man was startled. Color faded from his face until he was as white as a sheet. As if someone had scared the hell out of him.

“No one has been in sixteen-thirteen since Karen Washburn lived there,” he said quietly. “She was a real beauty, but she was killed in a car accident several years ago.” 

“No, that can’t be,” I said. “No, you must be mistaken. Look, I’ve seen her for months… erm… walking about that apartment. And she spent the night with me last night.” 

The manager looked down and shuffled his feet, then slowly raised his head and looked into my eyes. “Mam, I’m sorry, and I don’t want you to be upset or alarmed. But I can tell you most definitely that nobody has lived there for years. The only thing is —” He paused, shook his head, then inhaled deeply. “The only thing is, over the years, some lady residents have occasionally claimed that they’ve seen a beautiful woman walking the corridors and going in and out of that room.”