Misc. Erotica MILF Apartments

After my shower, I planned to spend the rest of the afternoon working on the roof, cleaning the last of the mess that time and neglect had left. As I stepped out of the stairwell, a scraping sound drew my attention to the back wall of the building.

On the roof opposite ours, was a slender blond with a big rucksack on her back. She was bent over a wooden plank, muscling the long heavy wood onto the low wall around the roof. As I watched, she managed to get the plank up onto the low wall and was just swinging one end out over the alley below.

“So, you’re the one who put up that bridge,” I said.

My words startled her, and she jerked upright, the plank slipping from her fingers and falling back to her feet. She stood and spun, staring at me with wide eyes.

I saw she wasn’t as old as I’d first assumed. Her hair and clothing were ragged and covered in grime, but her eyes were bright and clear. They shone with a fierce intelligence and no small amount of anger as she confronted me.

“And you’re the asshole who removed it, I assume,” her voice was sweet, even in her anger, high pitched and girlish, matching her adorable elfin features.

“I didn’t want some kid to find it and fall off,” I said, eying her up and down, “It’s pretty dangerous, what are you doing anyway?”

“I didn’t think about kids finding it,” she said, her anger evaporating as her face fell, “I guess that’s a pretty good reason.”

“What are you doing anyway,” I asked, motioning to the plank at her feet, “And why are you trying to get over here?”

“Look, dude, I was just looking for a warm place to sleep, maybe a bit of running water to clean up,” she gave a deep sigh, “It’s been days since I had a good night's sleep on the streets.”

“You’ve been breaking into the fifth-floor apartment?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Hey man,” she said, backing away slightly, “the door was unlocked, not my fault, and I didn’t take nothing, fuck you!”

“Calm down,” I said, raising my hands to placate her, “Did I say you took anything?”

The girl stopped backing away and crossed her arms.

“I can’t have you crawling across the roofs like this, it’s too dangerous,” I hooked a thumb back at the stairs, “and if I catch you breaking in again, I’ll have to call the cops. But if you need a place to sleep, I can probably find a small space down in the basement or something.”

“That would be really cool,” she said, her face holding a faint hope until she narrowed her eyes, “Wait, in the basement? I’m not doing anything kinky for a room, dude. You can get that thought out of your head right now.”

“No,” I said, waving her off, “nothing like that. You would have to work for the space. I wouldn’t just give it to you for free.”

“What kind of work?” She asked.

“Simple stuff,” I said, “like sweeping and mopping the stairway once a week, cleaning out the basement. Nothing too crazy.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” she said, nodding, “what about a shower?”

“I guess you can use mine when I’m gone,” I said, “just make sure to clean up after yourself.”

Opening my space to someone else made me uncomfortable, but the girl looked so bedraggled and miserable that I couldn’t stomach not helping her.

“Ok,” she said, “but just remember I got a knife, and I got no problem sticking you if you start to get any funny ideas.”

I met her at the front door, letting her in and trying not to recoil at the stench coming off her. It smelled like she had spent the last few nights in a dumpster. Looking over her clothing once more, I saw she might have done just that.

“I’m Connor,” I said, shaking her hand and finding my palms were sticky with some mysterious substance when I pulled it away, “I’ll show you the space.”

“Thanks again, man,” she said, clutching her ruck-sack against her chest with both arms as she stared around at the inside of the building, “I really appreciate it. And I promise not to screw you over or anything. I’m Clara,” she pulled a round rainbow-colored sticker from one of her jacket pockets and held it out for me, “but I go by DJ Minny-Spice.”

“DJ Minny-Spice?” I asked, not quite able to keep the grin from my face as I led her back to the narrow steel stairway down.

“What?” She asked, “You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that,” I said quickly, “besides I don’t know anything about music, so I wouldn’t know what’s cool or not.”

“I knew it,” she said, stopping and frowning down at the ground before following me down the stairs, “Back in Albuquerque, I started as DJ Dangerous, but most people laughed at that when they saw me. Then I was DJ Scene-Queen, but it turns out there’s a gay DJ with that name already. When I got here to the city… it just seems that every cool name is already taken, and I suck at coming up with new ones.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” I said, “the space is down here.”

“Is that the only way down there?” She asked nervously.

“Yea,” I said, “Look, if you don’t want to stay here, I understand.”

“No,” she said quickly, “I don’t have anywhere else to go, I’m coming.”

I moved down the stairs and gave the nervous girl a wide birth as she came down behind me. I showed her the small room and pulled out the cot I’d dug out of the furnace room.

“It’s not much,” I said, waving around at the tiny room with no water or bathroom, “but if you want to, you’re welcome to stay here till you find something of your own.”

“Thank you,” her voice caught, and when I looked I was surprised to see tears in her eyes, “People have been such assholes since I got here… seriously, you have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, shrugging and feeling my face heat in embarrassment, “come on, you can take a shower, I'll be gone for an hour, so you have plenty of time.”

She was shaking with unshed tears when I let her into my room and showed her where the clean towel was. I left her there and headed down to the noodle shop to get some food. I didn’t have to be anywhere, and if I was honest, I still didn’t trust the girl completely but she definitely looked like she needed it.

I sat in the window seat and watched the front of the building to see if she came running out after having stolen some tools or something, but she never did. An hour later, I went back to find everything in its place in my room; the cracked mirror still steamed from her shower. She had taken care to wipe the floor down and hang the towel neatly to dry. I don’t know why, but that one small touch gave me a great relief that my decision to trust Clara was a good one.

The rest of the night was spent either studying or playing on my phone. I had a busy week of school ahead as classes picked up their paces. I tried to get out ahead of the reading, but I kept getting distracted by thoughts of my time with Gia and Elizabeth that weekend.

I woke early and showered before arriving at Sola’s studio for our morning yoga. She took me through the usual forms and introduced two more into the routine. Once again, the woman drove me crazy with her teasing eyes and touches as she directed me in the stretches.

The yoga was having an impact, that I could see in the mirror. My muscles were becoming more defined, and I felt stronger and more limber. There was an added benefit I didn’t appreciate until I got to class that day, and that was how much clearer my thinking was, and how much better I was able to focus.

The week passed by quickly, with things falling into a nice little routine. Clara stayed to herself. I wouldn’t have even known she was still staying there if I didn’t see the cot pulled out each night and put away in the mornings. I stopped by the corner store and dropped off a bag of snacks in there for her because I was worried that she might not be eating regularly. The bag was empty and, in the trash, the next day, so I made a habit of leaving snacks and bags of fruit for her.

Monique would pass through the foyer at all times of the day or night, often accompanied by artsy friends. She and Sola were good friends, and whenever I went up to the third floor, I was inundated by the smell of their pot smoke.

On Thursday, I was just coming down from the roof when I passed Milly in the stairwell, heading up. I waved to the odd woman, and she stopped directly in front of me, forcing me to halt, nearly tripping and falling on her in the process.

“I would like you to work on my plumbing,” she said, her words clipped and oddly lacking emotion.

“I can come by and check it out,” I said, “What’s the problem?”

“I will explain when you arrive.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and her cheeks had a red blush to them.

“When?” I asked.

“Tomorrow evening,” she said, “arrive at 6:30 pm, knock twice.”

“Sure,” I said, edging to the side in the narrow stairwell, “I’ll be there.”

“Make sure you bath before coming,” she said, her head ducking down, face hidden behind a curtain of hair, “You should be cleansed of any… filth… before you come into my apartment.”

“Ok,” I said, “I can do that, anything else?”

“I have never done this kind of thing before, but I will have all of the necessary… protection and… tools.”

“I’ll bring tools,” I said, “just depends on what the problem is.”

“No,” she said quickly, “it is essential that we use my… tools.”

“Ok,” I said as I stepped down the steps, eager to be away from this weird woman.

“6:30,” she repeated, “and don’t forget to knock twice.”

“Got it!” I shouted as I started hurrying down the steps, trying to get away before she told me any odder rules.

It was starting to get late, and I had my meeting at my father’s offices with Brooke to get to. I hopped in the shower and got ready, then hit the subway to mid-town. Two hours after I escaped Milly, I found myself riding the elevator up to the thirty-second floor.​