Al appreciated working at a place that looked well cared for. He couldn’t imagine working at a place that was always dirty looking, had graffiti on the walls, was filled with weeds, and was generally unkempt.
He thought that was one reason why they had so many good tenants at Armstead Arms. There were always going to be bad apples, as in any large apartment complex. But on the whole, people appreciated living at a well-kept place. If management kept it looking nice, tenants would generally try to keep it nice, too. Especially at the rents they were paying to live there.
Al was in a good mood today. He left the office that morning, and looked through his work orders. There was one for Cleo Louise at 230 Armstead Street Unit 402. She was a woman who, he heard, was a club singer. They said she was pretty good at it. She usually didn’t call in for a work order. Today, her dishwasher was leaking.
He went to the building and took the elevator for the fourth floor. When the elevator door opened, he heard a variety of music playing from the apartments. He had heard about this floor. It was always humming with some kind of activity. He didn’t know how Patricia had managed to put so many people who had to hear their sounds, all loud, on one floor.
The exceptions were always complaining. The summers were particularly loud. The guys on weekend call always complained that they had to call the police at least one night a week because of the CD playing and wild parties. Patricia was on the case, though, sending warning letters and building up eviction cases on the worst noise violators. He didn’t worry about her weeding out the biggest offenders, and getting them to change up, or move out. Pat was good at her job.
He knocked on the door, where Nelly was blasting “It’s Getting Hot in Here” from inside. He had to knock several times before anyone heard him. It was the tenant across the hall. She poked her head out of her door a little, then opened it wide when she saw it was Al.
She was an older woman, around sixty five years old, wearing a long blue robe, with pink foam curlers in her hair. Her face was pale, and she looked like she didn’t get very much sleep. She was wearing blue fuzzy slippers, with short white socks.
“You might as well call her on your cell phone, ‘cause she’s not going to hear you knocking. She’s been at it for over an hour now. I called the Management Office on her just two minutes ago. It’s nine o’clock in the morning, and listen to this noise! Are you here because of my call?”
“No, ma’am. But when I get in, I’ll ask her to turn it down.”
“A lot of good that will do after you leave. This keeps up, I’m getting out of this place!” She slammed her door.
Al made a mental note to tell Patricia bout the tenant's comment. They couldn’t afford to lose good tenants, and Pat would want to know, so she could document it on an Incident Report.
He knocked on the door a few more times. Then he decided to heed the elderly tenant’s suggestion, and called Cleo Louise from the number on his work order. He could hear the phone ringing inside the apartment.
“Hello!” a woman shouted. He could hear her shout from outside the door.
“Hello. This is the maintenance man here to look at your dishwasher. I’m right outside your apartment!” He had to scream for her to hear him.
“Oh, okay.” She replied. After a while, the music was turned down, and she opened the door.
There stood a tall, thin, gorgeous cinnamon brown colored woman, with a rust brown Halle Berry short style haircut. She was wearing a tight, gray, full body suit, with a black cut off tank top over her ample breasts. She was barefoot. Her lips were full and inviting, with bright red lipstick outlined in brown. She appeared to be slightly older than Al. Not that he cared. Al just stood there in a trance.
“Come on in.” She said, and went inside, leaving the door open. The sweet aroma of strawberry incense permeated the apartment.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. I’m doing my morning calisthenics.” She turned the volume to Nelly slightly up, but much lower than it had been.
And looking fine as Hell, too, he wanted to say. He forgot all about the tenant’s complaint from across the hall.
She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen area. Al followed her, looking at her firm, voluptuous hips all the way.
“This dishwasher started leaking a few days ago, I guess. I didn’t really think about calling it in before, because I had a four-night gig this week. When I came in late last night, the floor was wet. I had put a load of dishes in before I left for the club. I guess that’s when it leaked again. So I thought I should have it looked at.
You have a lot of things for a man to look at, he reflected. Damn, you’re fine.
He opened the dishwasher and looked inside. Cleo left the room, and soon after, the music volume went back up. Outkast was blasting “Hey Ya”, and he chuckled at what the tenant across the hall must be going through. It really wasn’t funny, though. Some people are still home early in the morning, he thought.
He worked until he found the problem, a loose hose connection. It didn’t take long for him to fix. After he was done, he started the dishwasher.
“Miss Louise! Miss Louise!”
Al figured it would be easier to just go get her, rather than to try to shout through the music. He went into the living room, where she was vigorously exercising to the music. He was momentarily transfixed; Cleo Louise was incredibly in shape. There wasn’t an ounce of fat to be seen on her body. He finally came out of his trance, motioned to her, and got her attention. She turned the music down again.
“It was just a loose hose connection. I fixed it, and it should work fine now. What I’m doing is running the machine through a pretend load, to make sure there are no leaks.”
Before he knew it, she approached him, and was right up on him, so close he could smell the scent of lilac on her. Al was so taken aback that he dropped his clipboard to the floor.
When he stood up, she was right there again, in his face.
“Are you staying until it finishes its run?”
Al gently put the clipboard between them to get some space. She barely budged.
“No, I hadn’t planned to. It should be all right. Now, Miss Louise, if you could sign here that the work has been done, I’d appreciate it.”
He was afraid he was about to break out in a sweat of horniness, she was so close to him. She just stood and stared at him for a while.
“You know, you’re very cute. I hadn’t really noticed it before.” She purred.
Oh, Lord, let me get out of here in one piece, Al prayed. What he really was afraid of was doing something with her, and getting hooked. To him, she looked like she could get a man addicted to her sex, and he couldn’t afford that to happen. He tried to stay professional.
“Thank you, Miss Louise. Now if you could sign right here.”
He pointed to where she needed to sign. She signed it quickly, and gave him back the clipboard. He tried to back away from her, so he could jet out of the apartment. She stood in his way.
“Are you single, Mr. ????” She was fishing for his name.
“Mr. Jones. Al Jones. Yes, I am.”
He couldn’t think of anything else to say. His dick was starting to grow, taking over his brain.
“How tall are you?”
“Five eleven. Why do you ask?”
“I’m five eleven, too. I was just noticing we are about the same height.”
Please let me out of here, Al begged in silence. He knew he was going to have to make a break for the door soon. However, his feet refused to cooperate.
“You have nice chocolate skin. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She never let his eyes leave her powerful gaze. She had pretty eyelashes, long and full. Al tried not to look too closely. She was right up on him, but never actually touched him. Still, he felt helpless.
Cleo was like a dangerous, black widow spider. She had paralyzed him with her perfume, standing so close to him, and with her beauty. She knew it, and she clearly wasn’t about to let him out of her web. Suddenly, she backed off from his personal space.
“Can I show you something else that needs to be worked on?”
Whew, Al thought. She was just buttering me up to do more work in her apartment. He relaxed a little, grateful that she was just being a tenant.
“Sure. Where is it?”
“Follow me.”
Al left his toolbox and clipboard in the living room as she led him to her bedroom.
“I’ve had a problem with this for a while. I don’t know if it’s still working.”
Al looked around the room to see what she was referring to. The room was very well decorated, with white curtains and white mini blinds. There was a yellow print comforter on the bed with matching pillowcases. A large 36” television was against the wall near the foot of the bed, on an entertainment counter. Taking up most of the room was a king sized, black metal bed with a huge headboard.
“So, where is your problem?” he asked innocently.
Cleo looked at him seductively as she approached him again. She deliberately looked down at his crotch, which was hard, and became even harder when she grabbed it and gently squeezed. He gasped from her grip, which was firm and gentle at the same time. He knew he needed to leave, but felt helpless from her perfume and her grip on his pants.
“This is my problem, Mr. Jones, right here in my hand. I need a workout.”
Before he could respond, her tongue was a yard down his throat. She kissed him deep, keeping one hand on his dick, the other on his face. After the initial shock wore off, Al realized that he was too sexually charged up to prevent what happened next. He grabbed her by the shoulders, and returned her kiss.
She released his pants, and they both hugged and continued to kiss each other. They felt up each other’s butts, shoulders, necks, and her breasts, and his dick again, and on and on for a good amount of time.
Then off came the clothes, and they kept kissing so as not to lose the mood. They threw them all around the bedroom as they made their way to the top part of the bed. Once naked, they explored each other’s bodies again. Cleo suddenly stopped Al, who was more than ready to get inside of her.
“I like to do it from the back.”
She turned around, displaying her rear end to his hungry eyes. Her back was smooth and muscular, with no marks on it. She had a large rose tattoo right at the crack of her firm behind. It was red, with green leaves. Al gawked in admiration at the artwork. It was just large enough to accent her great looking ass.
Cleo didn’t notice Al’s brief hesitation. She was like a hungry panther, refusing to wait her turn at the raw meat. She pushed her rear end toward Al, to indicate she was ready for him.
Al touched her pussy, and his fingers sank quickly into her wetness. That was all he needed to know. He took his massive hard-on, and shoved it into her. Both of them groaned loudly. They found their mutual rhythm with no problem, and with each solid thrust of his pelvic muscles, Cleo became wetter and wilder with her response.
When he came, he thought his entire torso was going to fall off inside of her. It was a powerful ejaculation that made him yell. He was glad that she kept her music loud, because he was sure everyone on the floor would have heard him scream with pleasure.
They both fell on the bed and laid down, spent and satisfied. Neither of them moved for a while. Al wanted to get up and go to the bathroom. Just as he was about to move, Cleo took out a Newport cigarette from her nightstand, lit it, and dragged a large puff of smoke.
“That was nice. Very nice.”
“Very nice, indeed.” Al said.
He waited until she had a few puffs in her, then got up to hit the bathroom.
“There are towels in the cabinet. Help yourself,” she offered.
Al went inside and did his washing up, then returned to the bed. Cleo was finishing her cigarette, putting it out in the small ashtray on the nightstand.
“So, what’s your first name again, Mr. Jones?” She had forgotten he had just told her his name not a half-hour ago.
“Al.”
“Nice name. Will I see you again, Al?”
They both were still naked. They had never gotten under the covers during their sexual tryst.
“I’d like to.”
He wasn’t hardly going to lie after what she had just whipped on him. Damn straight, he wanted to see her again.
“Cool.”
She left the bed, and put on a long, pink satin robe that was at the foot of the bed. Al put his clothes on as Cleo walked into the living room. When Al went into the living room, she was sitting on her couch with her legs crossed. She gave him a look of absolute dismissal. It was as if she was saying ‘I’ve had you; now it’s time to go’.
Al got his toolbox and clipboard. As he walked toward the apartment door, Cleo stood up, looking at him with a blank stare. She didn’t move from the couch to approach him at all. He got the hint again.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you again some time.”
“We will, Mr. Repairman. Of that you can be sure.”
Only then did she walk toward him to her apartment door, and kissed him on the lips with no tongue. He was surprised that she was still able to excite him, even after the incredible sex they had just had.
“Bye.”
She opened the door for him, and he walked out. She waved affectionately, then gently closed the door behind him. Barry White’s ‘Ecstasy’ started to play as he walked down the corridor to his next assignment.
What a woman, he thought.
