Unlucky Seduction

Azpen Meadows and her road to success. Pot Holes and road bumps set her back. how will she deal with them?

Azpen waved her arm vigorously at traffic trying her hardest to get a taxi. Was she not dressed s****y enough? Just a minute ago one guy cruised right past her to pick up the blonde floozie right behind her dressed like a pin-up girl. She’d been at it for two hours now. 

“Com’ on! Taxi!!” She could feel the heat from the sun scorching her skin. It didn't help she was white as a ghost. Her dark brown chestnut hair did nothing to help either as it stretched past her shoulders and was thicker than a Malamutes fur during the winter. She had dressed light, in a small bright teal tank top and jeaned shorts, hoping it would help keep her cool; instead, it seemed to promote the roasting process. 

Finally, a yellow car with the trademark decals pulled up, the back door popped open. She stuck her head in, “I’m gonna need the trunk.” 

The Taxi driver was old,  probably reaching his eighties. He had a bright smile on his face stretching ear to ear, “Of course Missy! Let me help with yer bags!” 

She returned his cheer with a grin of her own, “Thank you very much!” They loaded the taxi and got in, “On zero eight east tenth street please!” 

They were about an hour from her new apartment, it was her first day in New York. Damn, she already missed her home. Back in Arcadia, Oklahoma where the population never reached three hundred this kind of traffic was unheard of. Not to mention the noise, car horns, children screaming the parents yelling for them to stop screaming. She was about to go into the sensory overload. 

Being in the taxi helped, the elderly man driving was kind and told her about all the good places to eat, sights to see, and even places to stray from. He wasn't happy with where she lived, “A fine little youngsta like yerself shoundn’ be livin’ somewhere like that!” 

She laughed, “Thank you for the concern but I can handle it. I took karate and got my black belt last year.” 

“Bah!” He slashed his hand through the air as if cutting her words to pieces, “Karate ain't gonna do ya no good against some feller with a .22!” 

Azpen rolled her eyes and pulled her phone from her pants pocket. Nothing new, no messages or calls, not that she was surprised. The parting with her family did not go well. Both Mother and Father were very upset with her decision to move away from home. Especially so far to a busy city at that, all to pursue her history degree. But, it was worth it, if she only spent two years at the University where she could travel to Rome and finally see the Acropolis of Athena. 

“We’re here, Missy.” 

She nearly jumped out of her pants, forgetting that she was even in a car with another person. “Oh, oh great!” She sat there staring out the window at her new home. The red bricked building seemed to stretch to the heavens, stairs descended along the front in a zigzag formation. Her room was on the highest floor. 

“Missy?” The haggard old man turned in his seat, “You gettin’ out er what? Metters tickin’ Hunny.” He smiled careful not to insult but firm enough to imply that she was being dismissed. 

“Yeah, sorry, just taking it all in.” She heaved a sigh and stepped out into the evening's heat. The driver followed and helped unpack her luggage all the way up the front steps. 

He laid a hand on her shoulder, “I’d help ya to yer floor, but I ain’t as good as I used ta be. These here stairs damn near killed me and there ain’t even 5 of em.” He gestured to the stack they just climbed. 

“I appreciate the help you’ve given. Here let me pay you.” She reached for her purse but he stopped her hand. 

“It’s on me, Missy. If Ya ever need help then give me a call. I'm thinkin yer gonna need it.” He handed her a card with a name and number-- hand written. The dark spots on his hands stuck out in the glaring sun and his nails were slightly yellow as if he smoked all his life. Azpen looked up and actually studied his face. Bright blue eyes unclouded by the hardships of life that oh-so clearly showed on his scarred and withered skin. 

She took the card from his hand and stored it in her wallet for safe keeping. She didn't get either bad vibes or felt like she needed a shower after making contact. His eyes were as clear as glass. If he had any dark smudging his soul she’d have seen it. “You really have done more than enough. I don't know what help I could possibly ask for. Thank you so much!” Azpen gave the old man, whose name was apparently Charlie Gladstone, a hug.  

After Azpen watched him leave in the taxi she started dragging her luggage inside. Each one weighed nearly a ton and was bigger than the upper half of her body. Which wasn't that impressive since she could be challenged by a toddler in a bodybuilding contest. It took time, three hours, not that she was counting. 

Her apartment was already packed with furniture, she had that arranged a month ago. All she had to bring were her personal belongings. Which were two cases of clothes and four totes of books. Came along with being a history buff. 

Before she even started unpacking she changed into a pair of pajamas that she had pre-packed for easy access. The apartment was small. A living room that branched off into one bedroom a bath and small kitchen area that was more or less the living room as well. She decided she would start on her books, unpacking and arranging them on the bookshelf she had delivered and placed in her living room on the far wall opposite the front door. 

She got through the first shelf done before a knock sounded on her door. Confused she climbed to her feet and swiped at her pants as if she were covered in dust. “Who is it?” she called walking to the door way. Chills were running down her spine and each step was more difficult than the last. Her whole body was screaming to stay far away from whatever was on the other side of that door. The complete opposite of her friend Charlie Gladstone. 

The knock sounded again. She was at the door her hand on the knob shaking in her bunny slippers. The chain was secured to the door and she decided she would open it just enough to peek at them. “Um, who is it?” The man was gigantic he towered over her by at least a foot and a half.  “C-Can I help you, Sir?”

A grin splayed across his face, his eyes closed head tilted to the side, “My names Jamison Colding, I’m your neighbor, Came ta welcome ya into the community.” His voice was a hard rasp that pulled at the back of her brain. Scrounging up impure thoughts that she'd never have thought she could think. 

Azpen felt the burning of her cheeks, knew they were shining brighter than Rudolph's nose during the foggy ChristmaEveve. He was dark skinned, not colored but tanned like he spent his life out in the sun. A full head of golden brown hair that fell down to his shoulders completed the surfer look. But his eyes, very much unlike the old mans, were clouded and muddy like a swamp. There was nowhere to see inside him. 

“Thanks.” Was about all she could manage to get out. Really she just wanted to slam the door in his face and run, however, she couldn't be rude. 

“Usually this is when you invite me inside.” His hands stuffed in his pockets he chuckled. 

Her heart rate picked up, whether it was fear or lust she had no idea. Places in her body were on fire; places she didn't know existed. She struggled to think of some excuse, knew she was taking too long and no matter what she said it would sound like a blatant lie. 

“Dang, well, you know I just moved… I’m not packed…” Her voice trailed off and she was hoping he would get the hint and leave himself. 

“I could help.” He offered kindly. 

“No!” She shouted before she could stop herself, “I mean, no that would be too much. Um, I'm sorry. I really need to get back to work. I have stuff to do tomorrow and I need this done today.” She was talking with her hands. A nervous habit she picked up as a kid, they flailed around everywhere not really knowing what to do with themselves.  

“Bye!” She slammed the door and locked it before turning and sliding to the floor head between her knees. “Holy s**t. That was.. Intense.” 

***

Azpen laid in bed the room was kept at a good sixty-five degrees and she was buried under a pile comforters. Her mind slowly fading as she drifted off to sleep. Her dream was peaceful, she felt happy and light as she danced through a meadow of tiger lilies. Her favorite flower. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” A familiar voice called from across the way, “And the pretty dress, much better than those bunny striped pajamas.” 

She spun and tripped over the edge of her skirt crashing into the flowers. What the hell was the neighbor doing in her dream? 

“That should be my line. It is my dream.”  Her voice was bland. Her dream ruined. 

“Ya never did tell me your name.” The scary man walked to her, hand held out as if asking her to dance. 

Azpen didn't mean to accept his offer but her body moved as if it had a mind of its own and the next thing she knew she was being spun in a circle her back bent eyes watching the clouds blend together. 

“It's Azpen Meadows.” He pulled her up and to his chest. Their arms out, her hand on his shoulder, his tightly holding her waist. 

“Pretty name.” Music was playing from somewhere, a classic she didn't know. One, two, three, they stepped to the violin and piano going in circles. Occasionally he would dip her or twirl her around with his hand. 

“I agree.” The music was picking up and so were their steps, every increase in tempo increased the burning in her chest and lower abdomen. She was nearly panting at the end, between her legs was a hot wet mess and she didn't know why. 

Jamison clutched her to his chest and nipped at her earlobe. Azpen’s knees gave and then they were on the ground. Jamison on top, hands running down her sides then under her skirt and up her legs. He moved slowly, letting the anticipation build. Azpen wanted to cry in frustration. God, she was ready to beg. 

Hot breath against her ear, “Ask me for it, Miss Meadows.” he purred. Fingers inches away from her core. Plucking at the lining of her panties. 

This was bad, she knew it was bad, something felt too real. She needed to say no, to push him away just as she opened her mouth to say just that he ran his finger over the middle of her undergarment. “Please!” she begged, “Oh please I need it!” 

With a moan of his own, he tore them off with one hand. He slid one finger inside her and she nearly screamed. Slow and gentle he played with her. His thumb rubbed and flicked over her c**t and his fore finger drummed her sweet spot. He had her coming in his hand in a minute flat.  

****

Azpen came awake her back arched still riding out the orgasm from her dream. A sickly sweet laugh echoed through her mind. She jerked her hand from between her legs and ran to the bathroom to wash up- completely embarrassed. The clock she left on the back of the toilet read eight in the morning. Just about the time she wanted to be up. 

A hot shower was next. She planned to forget about what happened and never think of it again while simultaneously avoiding her neighbor, Jamison. 

After she was squeaky and clean she dressed in an easy black skater skirt with a yellow button up over a silky cream camisole. She was out the door in an hour. 

She pivoted right heading to the elevator but was stopped by a meaty wall. “Why hello again.” 

Her heart dropped as she looked up into Jamison’s almond eyes, “F**k…” She whispered. 

“I’m busy but,” he glanced at his watch, “Give me two hours and I’ll be available.” 

She turned and ran like her life depended on it. 

Author's Note

Keep updated.