On the Clock
1 AM
Arnie Jacobs didn’t take that long. He was a small man who liked to throw around what little weight he had but in the end, I got what I wanted.
I was out on the streets by 12:20 with Ron’s address in hand. It didn’t take that long to drive over there.
The place was a beat-up old apartment building. Lit with a flickering fluorescent bulb, the lobby was stark and uninviting and the elevator creaked as it hauled me up to the third floor looking as if it, like the rest of the building, had seen better days that would never come again.
Ron Wilson lived in apartment 304. I knocked on his door. There was no answer. I knocked again and again. There was no answer.
I should have known something was wrong. I mean the man was supposed to be sick, right? Now, I’m not stupid enough to believe that if a man calls in sick, that that means he actually is sick, and hell, it could have been that Ron Wilson was just sound asleep, but I should have known something was wrong.
I knocked a little louder. It was after midnight so I figured some of Ron’s neighbors had to be asleep and I didn’t want to wake them up. I called out Ron’s name and again, there was no answer.
I was getting pissed. I knocked louder. Still no answer. I pounded on the door. No answer.
This wasn’t working. I went downstairs. Let’s see if the man is ignoring me, I thought. I looked up to the third floor. If the elevator were there, I counted over one apartment and then two.
Ha. I knew it. His lights were on. The man was home and he was ignoring me. Well, as pissed off as I was, I was not about to let myself be ignored.
Okay, so Ron was ignoring me. Fine. I could handle that but I still needed to talk to the guy so how the hell was I going to get into his apartment.
I looked up from the street. Third floor. Yeah, right. I wasn’t no damned cat burglar. No way for me to climb the hell up there. Too bad they didn’t have a fire escape. I could have just walked up there. That would have been easy.
Wild ideas started to go through my head. Maybe I could swing down from the roof top. Only thing was, I’d probably end up doing a Wiley Coyote which meant I’d probably go splat right into the side of the building, and you know, Wiley Coyote usually survives something like that, but for us mere mortals, hanging three stories off the ground is not where you want to be when you say to yourself, “You know, this was a fucking stupid idea,” and besides, even if I did want to do it, I didn’t have a rope.
Nope. If I was going to get inside Ron’s apartment, it was going to have to be from inside the building.
You know, there’s really only two ways to get inside an apartment. Either someone lets you in, or you break in. I’d tried getting Ron to let me in. Now, I was thinking about breaking in.
Oh right, I thought. It’s after midnight and you start pounding on the fucking door. Real subtle, Stacy. Real fuckin’ subtle. Try again.
There’s a third way to get in an apartment. Someone lets you in, you break in, or you let yourself in. All right, so where the hell was I going to get a key. I went back inside. I knew I was running out of time. I went back to the third floor. No fucking doormat. That would have been too easy. Feel around the door jam. Nope. No key there either. A neighbor maybe. Yeah right. I didn’t think I’d leave my key with any of Ron’s neighbors so why would Ron. So where was I going to get a key.
There was, of course, the one obvious answer. Back to the first floor. I fought off the urge to look at my watch. I already knew what time it was. I didn’t need to be reminded just how little time I had left.
There was the manager’s apartment just where I thought I’d seen it. I knocked on the door. No answer. Of course. Why would there be? I knocked again. I could hear a TV going inside so I knew someone was home.
The door opened. A man in boxers and an old ratty t-shirt opened the door. “Yeah? What do you want?”
A good question. Look, as horny as I knew I was about to be, I was perfectly willing to seduce the man just so I could get my hands on his passkey. I pushed my way forward. I tried to sound as seductive as I could. “Do you know how hot you are,” I said. “I want you. I want you. I want you so bad.”
Okay, corny, I know, and neither subtle nor likely to work, but I was tired and the guy was fifty and bald and I was a hot, little co-ed. Would you have turned me down?
Well, it doesn’t really matter what you would have done. All that really matters was that the manager let me inside, and that’s when I saw it. A board with keys for each apartment. “Hey,” I said and then I realized I didn’t even know the man’s name.
“Stu,” he said.
“Hey, Stu. Could you get me a drink of water?”
“What?”
“Ple-e-e-e-ease. I’m so hot. I could really use a drink of water.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
The man headed to the kitchen and as soon as he was out of sight, I grabbed the key for 304 and just to cover my tracks, I moved another one there to take its place, and I was gone.
I was back on the third floor and I put the key in the lock. It turned and I was in.
Idly, I wondered if this was considered breaking and entering.
I entered the room and I knew something was wrong because there was Ron Wilson’s lifeless body sprawled out on the middle of the floor.
Of course, I suppose he might not have been dead but the bullet hole in his head was sort of a dead give away, no pun intended.
My first thought was Oh my God, I’ve got to get out of here. My second thought was Oh my God, I’ve really got to get out of here now. My third thought was wait, as long as I’m here, I might as well look around.
I knew I had no time. From the way things looked, whatever had happened had happened recently. The cops might be here at any moment.
I looked around the apartment. I was looking for anything which might help me. I didn’t give a fuck about Ron. He might not have deserved to die but I kind of got the feeling that he wasn’t one of the good guys.
I spotted the man’s cell phone clipped to his belt. It felt gross doing this but he wasn’t going to need it anymore. I slipped the phone out of its holster.
I flipped the cover open. The last incoming call was made only 30 minutes earlier and it hadn’t been a missed call, and two minutes later, he’d made a call out. So, he’d talked to two people within minutes of his being killed.
I knew what I was supposed to have done. The phone was evidence. I was supposed to leave it there but then if I had done what I was supposed to have done, I wouldn’t have been in Ron Wilson’s apartment in the first place so instead, I slipped the phone in my purse. I’d get whatever data I could later and when I was done with the phone, I’d let the police have it, anonymously, of course.
I could hear sirens approaching. Time was up. I had to go.
I was out in the hallway but already I could hear the sirens getting closer. I looked around for an avenue of escape.
I couldn’t go back through Ron Wilson’s apartment because I had no way to climb down.
There was a flash of red in the window at the end of the hall. There was no time. I wondered what would happen if the police took me to jail and threw me in a holding cell. What would happen when the top of the hour rolled around and there was no one left to fuck. I shuddered at that thought. I knew that was something I didn’t want to know.
Sometimes, fate steps in when you least expect it.
I could hear the creak of the elevator and I fully expected the police to come rushing out but that wasn’t what I saw. What I saw was an old man. He must have been in his seventies or maybe older and he was wearing a yellow sweater and at the end of the leash he was holding was a little dachshund.
“Come along now, Lizzie,” the man chided the dog. “Let’s go back to bed now and no more getting up in the middle of the night to go out.”
The dachshund looked bored and I had the feeling that the dachshund could care less what its master wanted. If it wanted to go out, it was going to tell its master so, and I had no doubt that the old man would dutifully pull on the yellow sweater and take the dog out for yet another walk.
The elevator had already departed and I was sure that this time when it returned, there would be no reprieve. I moved towards the man. He already had the key to his apartment in hand. He looked at me as I approached. “Can I help you,” he asked.
I fully meant to ask the man for his help but like I said, sometimes, fate steps in when you least expect it. I hadn’t been watching the clock as closely as I should have so what came out of my mouth instead was, “I need to fuck.”
If the man was shocked, he didn’t show it. Instead, he just turned the key in the lock and he opened the door. “Very well,” he said. “Come inside.”
I was right behind him as the man shuffled inside. The man knelt down and unclipped the leash from the dog’s collar. There was a basket near the kitchen and the dog scampered into it and then turned around as if to see what was going to happen next.
The man coiled the leash up and then he put it on the counter near where the dog was sitting and then he looked at me. “Now,” he said again, “what was that you were saying?”
“I need you to fuck me,” I said. I was getting more and more antsy. I needed this man to move. I needed him to go quicker.
The man just laughed. “Oh, you young people. Always rushing about. My name’s Cecil by the way. Cecil Bondurant and I’m still not sure what it is you want of me.”
“Listen here, old man,” I said. “I need you to fuck me. I need it now.”
The man seemed to straighten himself up. “Listen here,” he said, “if you want something from me, then fine, but please show a little respect.”
“Sorry,” I said, “but really, I need you to fuck me.”
“I think I need to make some tea first,” the man said. “Would you like some?”
I shook my head with vigor. “I don’t think you get it,” I said, fighting back the urge to call him old man again. “I need you to fuck me. I need it now.”
“I heard you the first time,” the man said, “but I’d still like some tea. Are you sure you won’t have some?”
“No thank you.”
“Suit yourself,” the man said even as he put the kettle on to boil, “but it really is quite good tea, if I do say so myself,” and then the man turned to face me. “Well, all right then, let’s take a look at you. Hmmm, not bad. In fact, quite pretty, so tell me missy, what would a girl like yourself want with getting fucked by an old man like me?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I said.
“We’ve got time,” the man said. “The water still has to boil.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“Very well then. Young people and their secrets. They always seem to think they know more than the generations that came before them but that’s nothing new. Fine, if you can’t tell me, then I won’t press. He opened the belt on his pants and then he pushed his slacks past his hips. He pushed his underwear down and then he took a seat in a chair at his dining room table. “I guess we might as well get started with having you suck me off.”
The situation was surreal. Here I was in this old guy’s apartment at 1 AM and here he was offering his cock up to me as if this was something that happened to him all the time. Surreal or not though, I was horny as all hell, and the old guy, he had a nice, meaty cock that made me wet just thinking about how it would feel when it slid in between my legs so when he told me to suck him off, I dropped to my knees, took hold of his cock, and I started sucking.
The man just sat there. He didn’t say anything. Every once in a while, he might let out a little moan but all he really did was sit there and stroke my hair as I continued to suck his cock.
The kettle was starting to boil. “Pardon me,” he said as he moved to get up.
I didn’t want to let him go. This wasn’t giving me what I needed but at least it was moving in the right direction and maybe if I sucked him real good, maybe I could get him to stick it between my legs.
But he wanted to get up so I let him up. He went over to the stove and he poured himself some tea. “Sure you won’t have some,” he asked. “It’s good, I tell you.”
I shook my head.
“Suit yourself.” He put a little sugar in the tea and then he came back to the table and he sat down. “Now, let’s see. Where were we? Aw yes. You were sucking my cock.”
And that’s just what I kept on doing while the old man sat there and drank his tea.
Fortunately for me, the man wasn’t much of a sipper. He finished his tea in rather short order but then there came the knock on his door.
We froze.
The knock came again, this time a little more insistent.
The man smiled at me. “Why don’t you go into my bedroom and get ready for me, my dear, while I see who’s at the door.”
I went in the bedroom but I didn’t close the door. I could hear the man talking and I knew who he was talking to. Yes, he knew the man across the hall from him. No, he hadn’t seen anyone go in the man’s apartment. No, he wasn’t aware that the man was dead and oh my, wasn’t that terrible. Yes, he’d let the officer know if he thought of anything else.
The man came back to the bedroom and he smiled. “I thought I told you to get ready.”
“But I wanted to hear what you were going to say.”
“But if you don’t get out of those clothes, then there’s no way I can fuck you.”
That, of course, was all the man had to say. In moments, I was pulling off my top. My shoes came next followed by my skirt and then I was down to just the bra and panties. Soon, I wasn’t wearing even the bra and then with just the slightest of flourishes, I wasn’t wearing the panties either.
“Nice,” the man said approvingly. “Yes, indeed. I like that, and a shaved pussy, too. I like that a lot. Now, why don’t you climb up on the bed, dear.”
Again, I did as I was told.
“Let’s see you play with your pussy,” the man said.
I opened my legs and I slipped my hands between my thighs. I pressed a finger against my clit and I moaned.
“Come on,” the man said. “If you want me to fuck you, you can do better than that.”
He was right, of course, and now that I knew what he wanted, I did do better. I pressed a finger against myself and then I spread my lips and again, I rubbed a finger against myself. In spite of myself, or was it because of myself, I wasn’t sure, but whatever the reason, I could feel myself getting hotter and hotter.
“Stick your finger inside you,” was his next order and I was right there to comply with it, letting him watch me as I finger fucked my pussy.
He’d gotten his cock out and he was stroking it as he watched me play with myself. “Nice,” he said. “Now add another one.”
Almost as soon as he said it, a second finger joined the first one. I would have preferred just the one but if he wanted two, then two was what he was going to get.
“Nice,” he said again. “Very nice.”
The man took his slacks down and then off came his boxers. The yellow sweater went next and then off went his shirt and just like that, the man was just as naked as me.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said. “It’s a very special something. Do you want it?”
He didn’t have to tell me what his something was because I already knew. He was holding it in his hand. I nodded. “I want it,” I told him. “I want it very much.”
“Then I think you need to lie back and spread your legs for me,” he said, “so I can give you what you want.”
I laid back as instructed and I spread my legs. I let my fingers slip between my legs and I looked up at the man. “Come on,” I begged. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”
I watched the man climb up onto the bed and then I watched him slide between my legs. For an old guy, he still had a lot of mobility but then let’s face it, for what I needed him to do, he didn’t need all that much mobility.
He slid in between my legs and then he was pressing the head of his cock against my cunt. He was looking at me even as I looked up at him and then he shoved himself inside me.
Mmm yeah, that was what I needed. He might have been old but he was nice and thick and he knew how to use his cock and I liked that.
He was taking his time as he worked his cock inside me. I knew he was watching me, watching me and listening to me, listening to me moan. “You like that,” he said.
“God, yes,” I moaned. “Oh geez, it feels so good. Oh geez, fuck me. Fuck me.”
He was taking his time with me, pulling his cock back, then pushing it forward. Back and forth. Back and forth. God, that was good.
My hands gripped at the bed covers as they opened and closed sporadically. Back and forth that cock went. Back and forth.
So big, I thought. Almost too big, if there was such a thing. Back and forth. Oh God, that was good.
“So you like this,” the man said with a smile.
“Fuck yeah,” I told him. “I love it. I love having your big, fat cock inside me.”
“Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor.”
“Anything. What is it?”
The man pulled his cock free to my groans of protest. “I’d like to see you get up on your hands and knees.”
What else could I do? I scrambled up onto my hands and knees.
I felt the man coming up behind me. “Cute ass,” he commented even as he ran a hand over my butt. “I’ve always liked girls with cute asses.”
I didn’t have time to remark on his likes or dislikes because almost at the same moment as he was saying what he was saying, he was bringing his cock up behind me and he was pressing it against my cunt and when he shoved himself inside me, all I could do was moan again and again and again.
His hands had me around the hips and he was driving his cock and damn, that thing felt good.
“You like this, huh,” he prodded. He wasn’t trying to make me say anything. It was just a statement of fact and he was right. I did like it.
“God yeah,” I moaned. “I love it. Fuck me. Fuck me. Come on, do it. Fuck me with that big, hard cock.”
The man chuckled. “You young people. You’re always in such a big rush to have everything done right now. When you get to be my age, you’ll learn to take your time.”
How could I explain it to this guy. I didn’t have time to take my time because in less than an hour, I was going to be doing this all over again.
Of course, for all his talking about taking his time, I notice that once the man got his cock inside me, he really wasn’t taking his time either.
I couldn’t help but let out a whimpering moan.
The man chuckled. “So little girl likes this.”
“Yeah,” I groaned.
“Little girl likes getting fucked from behind.”
“Yeah.”
“Then I suppose little girl wouldn’t mind permitting me just a little indulgence.”
What the fuck was this guy talking about? “What,” I asked.
“A little request,” the man said.
As long as this guy kept fucking me, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted to do and I told him so.
“That’s just it, my dear.”
“What’s about it,” I moaned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m about to cum,” the man said, “and I was wondering if you’d permit me to do it in your pussy.”
I groaned again. God damn, I was so close. I could feel it coming. I was so fucking close.
“I don’t care where you do it,” I told the man, “just so long as you get me off.”
The old man chuckled. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.”
And yet for all his talk, he still wasn’t cumming inside me. He just had his hands on my hips and he just kept fucking me and fucking me and fucking me until I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to take it one second longer, and still, he kept fucking me.
I groaned as my body rocked to the thrust of his cock. It wasn’t a matter anymore of what he wanted. It was a matter now of what I needed.
“Come on,” I moaned. “Come on, do it.”
Even the old man had seemed to lose some of his nonchalance as his cock was becoming more and more insistent.
“Come on,” I said. “Fuck me.”
The man wasn’t saying anything. He was just grunting now.
I knew it was going to happen. I was so close and so was he and then I heard him groan and even as his cock surged, I could feel my pussy bear down on him as the two of us succumbed to the inevitable.
The man groaned as his cock continued to surge inside me and I stood on my hands and knees and I took it because, to be honest, there wasn’t much else I could do.
The old man finally pulled his cock from between my legs. “Oh my,” he said. “Oh my. We do seem to have made something of a mess here. I sure hope Elizabeth doesn’t mind.”
“Your dog?”
“Elizabeth is my wife.”
“Oh. Oh man. I mean, like wow, I thought you lived here alone.”
“I do.”
“But I thought you said—”
“Elizabeth is dead. Left me five years ago but I think she looks in on me from time to time.”
“Oh. So what would she think of me.”
The man smiled. “You, I think she’d like, right up to the point where you told me to fuck you. Elizabeth was always kind of possessive that way, but I think Elizabeth would tell you not to worry about the police.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m assuming you didn’t want to be seen when the police were next door looking over our friend there.”
“You know about that—”
“Yes, but I don’t think they’ll be looking for you. I expect they’ll be spending a whole lot more time looking for the other girl.”
“The other girl?”
The old man nodded. “When Lizzie and I went out for a walk, we saw the girl come out of Mr. Walker’s apartment, and that person was definitely not you.”