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Fletchina Archer was born, raised and attended college in Colorado. Her work has been or will be published in Oceania's X-Muse, Peacockblue, Girlphoria and Options where you can currently read more of her erotic fiction. Her novel, My Secret Sex Life, is currently available for download at the romantic-erotica eBook publisher Ellora's Cave. Please visit this link to learn all about her new erotic eBook.

Author's Quote: "Enjoy the writing, enjoy yourself, enjoy your lover, enjoy your life." If you enjoy this story, please E-mail Fletchina Archer to let her know.

Finding Alberto

"Do you want him?" I asked Addie, as we stood together, she in front of me, before the high window of our downtown apartment. My palms lingered at her erect nipples while I stroked her breasts, tracing the line under them. I moved to her stomach, to her pubic hair, and down to her mons where I massaged her clit through layers of intervening flesh. Her bare ass pressed against me, rotating against my own hot mons. 

She held the binoculars, gazing across a wilderness of parking lots to the window of the high-rise where he lay on his bed. I watched over her shoulder at the rectangle of light that was his window. "He's so," she purred, "so, sensuous. You see how he's stroking himself? I think he's about to... Yes! Oh, harder."

I increased pressure on her clit. 

"Faster," she demanded.

I matched the motions of her butt against me. 

"Oh," she sighed, "Oh yes, he's coming now. I can see it all, I can see him squirting cum all over his stomach. Oh my god," she said, "he's still coming." 

Addie, too, was coming in my hand. 

"Don't stop," she said. "He's doing it again. He's still going." She handed me the binoculars and I peered over her shoulders to see him lying on a bed, stroking his hard penis, spurting white across his belly until finally his erect penis wilted in his hand. 

"There's enough for both of us there, lover." I watched the strange man drowsing on the bed. "Do you want him?" I asked again.

"Oh, what's the point," she replied, "we'd never be able to find out who he is, much less let him know we're after him. He's probably gay anyway." 

"None of that matters," I said, "If you want him." 

"Come with me," she said, leading me from the window to her bed, "make love with me now." 

She lay on the bed and opened her legs, holding her labia open for me. I obliged her by moving my tongue around her hard clit, faster and faster, then harder, using the flat of my tongue in the way I knew she liked best. She started to shiver, and I knew that would be the first of many, many orgasms tonight that would build until she writhed into that oblivious state where we sent one another whenever we made love.

The next morning I counted the floors to the window we'd been watching. I went across the wasteland of parked cars, parking garages, and other urban junk to his building, and looked at all the 7s listed on the door. Most were first initials. No help. There was no way to figure out which window was his from initials alone. The "B" could just as well be Bettina as it could be Bert. 

A tall, stylishly dressed woman came out as I was contemplating this problem, and I took the opportunity to go in as I had no key, and no reason to buzz any particular apartment in the building. At least I knew which side of the building he was on, and which floor. I went up to the seventh floor and walked around the hall, all four sides, until I came to the side that faced our apartment. I had counted the windows from each end, so I knew his apartment was two past the center toward the street. That made it 707, 709, or maybe 711. I went back down to the mailboxes, and then the labels there began to help a little bit. 707 belonged to a Maria ____. Not our man. 711 got mail for Abigail ____. Not our man. 709 got mail for Francesca ____. No help there. I decided on the bold course, and went back up to the seventh floor and knocked on 711. No answer. Then 709. Francesca came to the door, and I asked if she'd inadvertently received any mail for Millicent Worthington in 609. She said she hadn't. But as she was closing the door I saw him walk into her living room.

"Bad news," I said to Addie that evening over supper. She arched her eyebrows in a question. "Your guy is living in ‘Francesca's' apartment. So he's either her husband or her boyfriend." 

"Even better," she said, "Maybe we can watch them making love." 

"But," I protested, "I thought you wanted him in the flesh." 

"I want a Jaguar and my own mechanic," she said, "But am I going to get that? In my next life, right? There are lots of things a girl wants she doesn't get. Right now, lover, I want you," she laughed."By the way, ‘Francesca' who?" she asked. 

"Villaviejo," I said, "Francesca Villaviejo." 

"Maybe she's in the phonebook," Addie suggested. 

She wasn't, but directory assistance helped us out when I gave the operator the address. I punched in the number, and when he answered I asked to speak to the lady of the house. He said she wasn't in, could he help. What was his name? Alberto. Alberto Villaviejo. So we had a name, a phone number, an address, an apartment number. All useless until he said, "What do you need to talk to my sister about?" I said I was calling about long distance phone service and he hung up. 

Addie was giggling behind me. I felt like we were two high school girls pulling phone pranks. 

"Look," she said, "You've done all you can. Even the FBI couldn't do more. What more can you possibly do?" 

"I'll think of something," I said, "At least we know he's not sleeping with his sister." 

"How do we know that?" Addie asked. 

"Well, I don't know. I just assumed that." 

"Assume nothing," she counseled. 

"But if he was making love with his sister, why would we have seen him ..." 

"Masturbating," she finished my sentence. 

"Yeah," I said. 

"Because he's so sexual that one woman isn't enough for him," she answered. "Because he's a stallion that needs a herd of mares to keep him satisfied. That's why. His sister is one. We're two others." 

"You're perverse," I said. 

"You knew that when we started making love," she said. Addie moved her hand under my bra to scoop out my breast and squeeze my nipple. She kissed me, probing my lips gently with her tongue, and I opened my mouth, twisting my tongue around hers, delving in. My bra hung limply under my breasts as her hands cupped and caressed them. She kissed the back of my neck, pulled me from my chair by my hand, led me to the bedroom. She removed my clothes, hugged me, then gently pushed me down to the bed. I opened myself to her, pulled my knees up. She knelt on the floor, still fully dressed, and gently ran her tongue between my labia, up to my clitoris, circled it, still in its hood, and then began to draw it between her lips.

We'd been lovers since her brother introduced us years ago, and we'd been living together since college. But that didn't mean we didn't like guys-- if they were the right guys-- and it seemed that Alberto might be right. Addie seemed to like what she had seen through his open blinds. As if perceiving my thoughts of passion, she pulled my clit between her lips just right and began to lick its end with the tip of her tongue until I came, and then again.

When I recovered from our lovemaking, I suggested we take another peek at Alberto, but his vertical blinds were drawn. It was useless. The next evening I called the Villaviejo number and talked to Alberto. I told him he had been randomly chosen to sample the food at The Thai Kitchen for a promotion. If he was free that evening, the restaurant would send two escorts to pick him up and take him to his complimentary dinner. He must not have been an American. He accepted cheerfully, without showing any trace of skepticism.

Addie and I dressed with care that evening. We decided to wear stockings, high heels and dresses. Sometimes it's nice to be all woman, and this was one of those times. We both donned push-up bras and wore no panties in case he might decide to explore in that direction. We didn't want him to meet any obstacles. We hugged each other and kissed, a bit nervously, before we approached the elevator for the walk over to his place.

We walked him to the Thai Kitchen, ordered our coconut milk curries laced with hot spices, anise and lemon grass, then ordered mangoes and sticky rice for dessert. The whole time we were waiting, anticipating. Nothing. No hand under the skirt, no exploration of our stockinged legs up to our thighs to touch our pubic hair, to caress our wetnesses. Nothing. If we wanted any of that we'd have to do it ourselves. Maybe he was gay. Oh well. Gay guys make nice friends. But we wanted his penis. Addie wanted him in her, filling her up, she wanted to drive him mad, to make him lose control and come in her, to fill her up with is penis and his cum. Me? I wanted Addie to have what she wanted. I'd share him if she liked, watch them if she liked, whatever.

We talked during supper, but it was pretty boring. He was American alright, as American as apple pie. From Nebraska, he said. That's why he was so innocent. I mean what's to talk about Nebraska once you've finished with football and feedlots? Not much. We were showing off our boobs. Maybe that was reducing his IQ a few points.

Addie proffered her credit card when the waiter presented the bill. The waiter gave us fortune cookies, though I never figured out why a Thai restaurant should follow Chinese customs, or Chinese-American customs in the first place. Addie giggled, sharing her fortune with me. It read, "You will soon receive a large package." Mine said, "You will see something interesting." Alberto read his aloud, "The world will smile upon you." He grinned, "Nice promotion, so what do I do now? Do you want me to fill out a questionnaire or something?" 

"No, you need to come with us," Addie said, though I'm not sure he got her meaning right away. We walked back to our place, Addie and I on each side of Alberto, our elbows linked, to our apartment. He began to get the point when Addie turned around and kissed him. He went with her into the bedroom while I sat in the living room for a while listening to their moans, sighs, gasps, getting hotter. They were obviously having a hell of a time in there, and I could no longer stand the tension. 

In the bedroom, Addie was on top of Alberto, riding him. I climbed up to sit behind her, reached my hands over her breasts, lingering to pull at her nipples. My hands roamed over her stomach, and finally I caressed her clit just so until she started to come. She shivered to orgasm, and rolled off. Alberto's cock was rock hard, and juicy wet from Addie's slickness. She guided him into me and I instinctively moved forward and back, feeling his penis filling me up, touching the mouth of my womb. I started to come, and he bucked into me. Having his cock inside me made me come quickly... more, more... I came continuously as he, too, screamed, his orgasm exploding inside me. I finally fell away from Alberto, dripping, giddy, and rested beside Addie. 

I kissed Addie and said, "You were right to want this one." 

She just smiled and kissed me. 

Copyright © 2001 Fletchina Archer. All rights reserved. Do not copy or post.

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