Misc. Erotica MILF Apartments

Surprisingly, I slept through the night, not a common thing for me, and when I woke the next morning, I felt rested, despite the crick in my neck from the lumpy mattress and no pillow.

Checking my phone, it was only five, and I sat up and looked around the austere room. I went into the bathroom and almost retched at the foul smell coming out of the sink. A small amount of water must have been left in it for years because there was a nasty petri dish of growing molds and fungus filling the sink.

Thankfully, the toilet flushed, and I checked the shower. The water pressure was strong, but the hot water was more lukewarm. It was Sunday, and I wouldn’t be able to sign up for classes, so I decided to get a jump on some of the work around the building.

One thing I am an expert at is making lists, and another thing is googling stuff on my phone and learning it quickly. That’s basically how I got through my entire education so far. As I went through my small place, I made two mental lists.

The first was all the work I wanted to do. I tried to prioritize between what needed to get done and what I just wanted to do, but that grew hard. When I really thought about it, I cared more about getting real sunlight into the room, than having a piping hot shower, so I had to adjust some things.

The second list was all the skills I would need to learn. I knew plumbing, electrical work, and the basic carpentry skill would be tough to perfect, but hoped I could at least become competent enough to be able to recognize what needed an actual tradesman and what I could fix on my own.

Once I’d gone over the whole apartment, I stepped up to my door and felt the familiar anxiety swell up in me, and I had to force myself to unlock the door and step out into the hall. The musty smell assaulted my nose once more, and I resolved to take care of it soon.

There was a stairwell of dark wood that was cleanish but could use a good mopping. The elevator was the most well kept up part of the whole building so far, and I saw that there was a service company that took care of it at regular intervals. Grateful not to have that worry, I opened the heavy steel door marked: SERVICE, and headed down the narrow steel stairs into the basement.

Down there, I found a boiler room that was also well kept and regularly serviced, a giant fuse box, and relay station with dozens of cables and fuses in a neat but confusing array. I steered well clear of that, knowing that if I started playing with wires, I would most likely get myself into trouble.

Then I found what I’d been hoping for, a small room filled with tools, cleaning supplies, paint, replacement fluorescent tubes, and a whole assortment of odds and ends. There was even a giant wooden box filled with about a hundred sets of locks that could be swapped out of the room’s doors.

I found some steel wool brushes, cleaning solvents, and a mop and bucket and hauled it all up the small stairs. After banging my elbow on the steel railing for the third time, I realized I hated those stairs, and always would.

Locking my door behind me, I was able to relax, and once I found the right playlist and popped my AirPods in, I was ready to clean my little place. There is one thing that is instilled in you at the austere school I went to, and that was the need and value of a clean work and living space. I didn’t realize until I first showed up at the boarding school how much I hadn’t appreciated the maids who took care of things, like cleaning and cooking, my whole childhood.

A peace settled over me as I cleaned the place, scouring away dust and grime and revealing the finely grained wood beneath, or the off-white walls. The bathroom was the hardest, and I retched a few times as I dug that wet mess out of the sink, but also the most satisfying once the white porcelain was revealed and the steel fixtures scrubbed.

Using the steel wool and solvent, I was able to scratch the paint free of the windows rather easily. Cleaning out the corners was harder, but then I had an idea and went downstairs and came back with a razor blade and realized the steel wool had been a stupid and messy idea. The razor blade passed between the glass and paint like a butter knife, and I shook my head for all the dirty work I’d done.

I resolved after that to take a minute or two and think through any other tasks I undertook.

Once I was done with the room, I was starving, but more than anything, I needed a shower. The water was cold, and the shower lacked a curtain, forcing me to stand near the wall, huddled in the corner to avoid getting water everywhere. After my shower, I stood there and dripped dry for long minutes.

The list of things I needed in my place was growing quite long, and I worried about how I was going to afford it all. I still had money leftover from my backpacking trip, a pile of cash stuffed in my bag. But I didn’t know how long that was going to need to last me.

Pulling up my phone, I looked through the maps app and found a few stores nearby that might sell what I need, but then I saw a Target on the other side of the island, just a short subway ride away.

I pulled on my clothes while my hair was still wet, and after a few deep breaths to calm myself, stepped out of the apartment building and onto the shadowed streets of the city. With my headphones in and staring at the ground, I made it down and through the subway, then to the store without needing to look at or speak to a single person.

Things were a lot cheaper than I thought they were going to be, and I even ended up buying myself a lovely little reading lamp and a dish rack, something I hadn’t thought about before I saw them there on the shelf. Making sure to keep everything to just two bags and light enough I could carry it back, I made it back onto the subway train with only a few people cursing me as I bumped them with the bulky bags.

It was nearing six when I said I would head over to my neighbor’s house and look at her sink when I got back. I was about to hand the drapes in a rush, but then I remembered the mess I’d made earlier, and I decided to wait and make sure I did it correctly. The last thing I wanted was crooked drapes that kept falling open.

Deciding to leave it for later, I got ready and then stepped across the hall and knocked on Gia’s door. She opened it right away, all swirling apron and loud music playing in the background. She had a large wooden spoon in one hand, and she pulled me into a quick one-armed embrace, crushing me against the vista of pale flesh exposed by her top.

“Come in, come in!” She said with exuberance, “The sink’s just through the bedroom, sorry about the mess. I’m just finishing up the sauce, would you like a glass of wine?”

“Uh yea, sure that sounds great,” I said.

“It’s yes, please, or even better, yes, I will,” she said with a wink before turning and heading into the kitchen.

I saw that her place took up most of the bottom floor of the building. I passed a library that had a boggling number of books on the shelves. In the middle of the room sat a comfortable reading chair and a footrest, both of soft brown leather. A standing lamp with one of those green shades stood beside the chair, and several piles of books stood on the floor in haphazard towers.

The bedroom was decorated exactly how I imagined it would be, all the way down to lace doilies on the dresser and a small finely wrought jewelry box. Her closet was open, and I saw an extensive collection of brown wool sweaters and loose lounging pants, but right at the front, almost like it was on display, was a set of white lingerie with garter belt and stockings. I found myself staring at the set, especially the massive lacy white bra, dreaming of what the hot MILF would look like in it.

“Oh, I should put that away,” Gia said right behind me, making me jump in surprise.

“Uhh,” I said with a weak grin, feeling mortified, “What’s the problem… with the sink?”

“It’s right this way,” she said, and I didn’t fail to notice her glance down at the lump forming in the front of my pants.

I thought she flashed a smile, but I couldn’t be sure. She was so warm and welcoming that I couldn’t help but feel at ease around her. She felt almost like an older aunt, but one I was finding myself having uncomfortable desires about. Shoving those aside, I focused on the problem.

“The cold faucet works fine,” she said, setting down the glass of wine she’d brought for me, “but the hot faucet has almost no pressure.” She demonstrated the problem, and I saw how, with even a little turn of the nob, a massive amount sprayed, “Do you think you can fix it?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “Let me take a look and see if I can find the cause.”

“It sure is wonderful to have a man around the place, finally,” she reached out and gripped my arm, “and such a strong and handsome one too.”

Her eyes seemed to flash with a certain intensity, and her smile had an almost Cheshire cat quality to it as she moved to leave. I stepped forward, but the space was small, and she was forced to press herself against my back as she left. I felt her massive breasts press against my back and the firmness of her hips and thighs. She took my hips for one delicious second, holding me in place, her fingers curling around my hip bone for a brief moment, and pulled us together, then she was passed.

“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” she said with a breezy voice as she left the bedroom, “It will keep for a bit, but don’t take too long wanking about in here!”

I turned and stared at her, her phrasing catching me off guard, but the woman was already gone. She had more energy than a woman half her age and had left my head spinning. Remarkably I wasn’t anxious around the woman; I just felt comfortable.​