The Super

  Previously published by Penthouse

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Super

  Copyright ã 2004 Gabriella Bradley

  Cover art and design by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004

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  THE SUPER

  By

  Gabriella Bradley

  THE SUPER

  “So I’ve got the job?” Sherry asked while fiddling nervously with her purse.

  “Yes. It’s a brand new building and only twenty-five suites. I just need someone living on site to keep an eye on things, collect the rents and phone repair men when needed.”

  “Is the building full now?”

  “No. That will be your first task—interviewing prospective tenants.”

  “You do realize I’ve got a daytime job. I believe I made that clear in my application, Mr. Ross.”

  Michael Ross let his gaze roam over the young woman. He felt quite satisfied with his choice. Her blond hair was neatly pulled back into a chignon. She wore no make-up and dark rimmed glasses perched on her nose. He knew her age from the application but looking at her, she came across as an old-fashioned woman. Her mode of dress was simple. A skirt below the knees, high-necked blouse and a dark jacket completed the picture. Sherry was a real estate agent but she looked more like a librarian, a woman who’d take no nonsense—prim and proper, and very business conscious. She was just what he needed for his new building.

  “Of course. This building won’t require much maintenance, so part-time supervision is okay. I’m going to Europe for a year so I’ll have to rely entirely on your expertise. The fact that you presently work for a real estate firm helped me to make my decision. You can start immediately.”

  “Eh…we haven’t discussed wages?”

  “Free rent, and heat and hot water are included. The other utilities will be your own responsibility.”

  Sherry thought about the proposition, but only for a moment. The free rent offer was hard to resist although she didn’t relish spending her evenings interviewing prospective tenants. “I’ll do it. I can move in tomorrow.”

  “Good. I’ll meet you at the building at noon.”

  The builders had left most of the trees intact, nestling the building in an oasis of greenery. The surrounding gardens had been landscaped professionally. Sherry had fallen in love with it from the moment she’d inspected the building. It was just a stone’s throw from the beach, plus it had a pool, a sauna and a hot tub and she could walk to work. What more could she ask for? The free rent would help her to save up. Her job at the real estate office paid enough to make ends meet, but not enough for the extras she craved, like to save up for a cruise.

  A man in her life would complete the picture.

  “Right on time,” commented Ross as he opened the door to let her into the building.

  “Yes. Punctuality is important,” Sherry said. She glanced at the man and noted his casual dress opposed to yesterday when he’d worn a suit. Suddenly, she realized his oozing masculinity that had been hidden beneath the pinstriped suit. Without his glasses, he looked much younger. “I took the day off so I can concentrate on moving in,” she added lamely, feeling suddenly inadequate and plain.

  “Good. Well, let’s go to your apartment and we’ll go over the necessary paperwork.”

  Intent on examining the paperwork involved in leasing the apartments, Sherry didn’t notice Michael’s roaming eyes on her legs.

  “I see. How about children?”

  “Preferably not. Not that I have anything against kids, but it’s the parents. More than often they don’t look after them and a building becomes a mess. I’ve got other buildings, more family oriented. I’ll give you the manager’s phone numbers so you can refer prospective families to those buildings.”

  Sherry bundled the papers into the folder and stood up. “I guess that’s about it then, Mr. Ross.” When he didn’t turn to face her, she tried again. “Mr. Ross? I suppose that finishes our business?”

  “Eh, yes,” said Michael.

  Sherry met his gaze. She’d noticed his brown eyes before but now they were black. He seemed uncomfortable as he ran a hand through short wavy brown hair. She saw the vein in his neck pulsating. It fascinated her and wondered why he looked so uneasy. Holding out her hand, she took a step toward him. “I wish you a pleasant stay in Europe, Mr. Ross.” She let her gaze roam under his penetrating stare and noticed the bulge in his crotch. Heat engulfed her for a moment causing blood to rush to her face. Her pussy felt damp as she allowed wild desires to enter her thoughts, but only for a moment. Quickly she composed herself. The man was obviously already thinking about future adventures. Or perhaps his wife. “Mr. Ross? I hope you and your wife have a pleasant trip.”

  “Wife? Oh, I’m not married.”

  She felt her cheeks burn. “I see. Well, I hope you have a pleasant trip,” Sherry said again while her blood heated her veins to such an extent that she thought her heart would burst from her chest. The oozing sexuality that radiated from him now caused such wild feelings that she felt like tearing off his clothes, her clothes, and throwing this man on the floor. It had been too long she’d been without sex. A sudden gush soaked her panties and she shifted uncomfortably.

  Regretfully she took the keys to her apartment from his fingers and watched him leave. “Another opportunity slipped through my fingers,” she said to the empty apartment. “I’ve got to change my appearance. It’s finally time to shed these prissy clothes.”

  After an unfortunate episode with an older employer and his fervent attempts to get her into bed resulting in an almost rape, she’d acquired the unnecessary glasses and changed her dress mode. She’d won the case of sexual harassment against him but after the judge pointed out that more modest clothing would help to prevent future problems, she’d agreed. Wearing the glasses and prissy clothes had become a habit, one she only shed in the privacy of her home.

  The first item she unpacked was the telephone. No sooner had she plugged it in or it started ringing. Within an hour she’d booked twenty appointments to view the luxurious apartments and two to view the penthouse. While answering the phone, she’d unearthed her answering machine. Quickly, she plugged it in. She’d already prerecorded the new message. The next few hours she spent unpacking and getting settled in, before the steady stream of prospective tenants arrived.

  The apartments were easy to rent out. Most of the applicants were single executives between thirty and fifty. Sherry glanced at her watch. The last applicant for the penthouse was late. She’d just decided to quit for the evening when the buzzer rang. With a sigh she let the man in and told him she’d meet him in the lobby. Going to the penthouse required a special key for the elevator as the elevator opened directly into the suite.

  “Mr. Van Deusen?” Sherry held her hand out at the sa
me time noting the man’s handsome face and muscular build.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I’m late but the meeting I had to attend took longer than expected,” he drawled lazily.

  His voice caused her skin to pucker. It was deep, sexy, and his tousled blond hair hardly looked as if he’d attended a meeting. Neither did his clothes. They were more reminiscent of a cowboy. Skin tight jeans, a body shirt that showed off his chest and massive arms and he wore unlaced running shoes. He didn’t look as if he could pay the steep rent for the penthouse but she had no choice but to show it to him.

  “Please follow me,” she told him while trying to curb her feelings.

  Vincent Van Deusen took his time in inspecting the penthouse. Sherry shifted uncomfortably on her feet, not so much because they were sore, but because of the sexuality he oozed.

  “I’ll take it. Can we do the paperwork now? I’d like to move in tomorrow.”

  “Mr. Van Deusen, I’ll have to do a credit check. I can have it done by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I forgot to ask, does the place come with services?”

  “Services?” asked Sherry with raised eyebrows.

  “Yes. Like if there’s a dripping tap, a broken toilet and stuff. Will there be a handyman on site?”

  “Oh. Some of it I can do myself,” she murmured.

  “How about catering?”

  “Catering?” Did she sound stupid or what? She’d never heard of an apartment building providing catering services. A sudden thought occurred to her. If she provided catering services, she could make a lot of extra money. Maybe she could even give up her present job. “Eh…yes. That can be arranged.”

  “Good. Let’s do the paperwork then. I’d like to go home and take a shower. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yes, for me, too,” said Sherry while wild thoughts about him naked in the shower flashed through her mind. She led him to her apartment and asked the necessary questions but she already knew she’d accept him as a tenant.

  After he’d paid the damage deposit and first and last month’s rents, he left. Sherry ripped off her clothes, pulled the pins out of her hair, threw the glasses on the bathroom counter and stretched. The woman who gazed back at her from the mirror had turned into a brazen siren. She ran her hands over her ripe breasts, tweaked her nipples that were already hardened from her erotic thoughts about Vincent and imagined his hands on her body, her clit. Her fingers stole down to her bush. She grimaced. Shaving had not been part of her life for a long time now. Perhaps it was time to visit a beauty salon and get her bikini area waxed.

  The shower washed the fatigue off her body but not the horny feelings. More than ever she felt the need for someone, for a man’s arms around her body, his hands touching her. It had been too long. It was two years since she’d broken up with Doug. During those two years she hadn’t dated anyone because no one was interested in the prissy woman she now portrayed. Thoughts of her new boss entered her mind, the bulge in his jeans. “Ooh, what I wouldn’t do to get my hands on that,” she said aloud and sank to the shower floor while opening her legs wide. The steady stream of water hit her vulva, beat against her clitoris. She squirmed as Michael and Vincent’s faces and bodies swam through her mind. Inserting her fingers into her pulsating vagina she rotated them. The juices flowed steadily but she didn’t feel satisfied. What she needed was a man’s cock, the real thing, Michael’s cock preferably.

  All the suites were rented. It had become a game to choose the most masculine, the most handsome and the younger men. They were all single. Two weeks had passed since she’d moved into the building and going to work every day became a drudge she hated.

  Someone knocked on her door. Sherry frowned as she glanced at the clock. Her tenants knew not to disturb her after hours. When she peeked through the peephole, she saw it was Vincent.

  “Sorry to bother you so late but I’ve got an urgent request.”

  “And that is?”

  “I’ve got a business meeting happening at my place tomorrow night. There’ll be ten of us. Do you think you can arrange catering? You might recall I mentioned it when I rented the penthouse.”

  Sherry thought about it for a moment. She’d have to take the day off work. “Yes, I can do that. Anything particular you’d like?”

  “No, I’ll leave that up to you. But there is one special request. I’ll need a waitress willing to serve in the nude. I’ll pay well.” Sherry almost gasped at the figure he quoted.

  Sherry closed the door and leaned against it. Her breathing came in short gasps as she masturbated at the thought of what she’d just agreed to. But the man was willing to pay, and pay a lot. She wouldn’t have to work her regular job for three months.

  The next day she called in sick and spent hours preparing a dinner. Now grateful for the cooking course she’d followed years ago, she finally put the last of the food in the oven to keep it warm and headed for the shower.

  “What about the waitress?” asked Vincent when Sherry delivered the food.

  “She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “Good. I presume you’ll bring her upstairs?”

  “I’ll send her up. I don’t think I need to hold her hand. She knows what to do,” she mumbled and hurried to the elevator.

  Sherry hastened back to her apartment and quickly took off her clothes, her glasses and shook her hair loose until it cascaded down her back. She carefully applied fairly heavy make-up. Unless Vincent had really taken notice of her face, he’d not recognize her. Clad only in a silly little white apron, her robe drawn tightly around her body, she hurried back to the penthouse.

  Vincent’s eyes widened when he saw her enter. At first she thought she saw recognition enter his eyes, then undisguised interest in the blond siren that entered the suite. She wore the frilly little apron tied with a big bow around her waist. She knew her cleft was visible just below the frill. Her dark bush was neatly trimmed and her she’d shaved her pussy, she’d been sure to do that as she’d showered. Her breasts bounced as she walked toward him and she felt her nipples harden into pebbles. Her long blond hair swayed gently against her buttocks.

  “Will this do, sir?” she asked in a sexy voice.

  “My God, woman, will you ever do. My guests are waiting,” he said and patted her on the bum.

  “No touching.”

  She smiled over her shoulder as she said it and noticed the vein in his neck pulsing. As she bent to take the food out of the oven, she spread her legs on purpose, opening her cleft for him and exposing her vagina. Glancing casually over her shoulder, she noticed his fly undone and his exposed throbbing cock and smiled. Her own flesh throbbed. The whole experience was such a turn-on, that she wanted nothing more than to rush to a bathroom and satisfy herself.

  “I feel like canceling this meeting right now,” he said, his voice husky.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that, sir. Not good for business,” she murmured, a flush creeping to her face as she tended to the food. “You’d best go and see to your guests.” She had to suppress a giggle as he tucked his hard-on away and had trouble closing the zipper.

  “And I have to face my guests like this…”

  “I can always rub it with ice cubes for you,” she dared to say.

  “Ah, no…preferably not,” he said while glancing into the dining room. “I’ll join my guests and I suppose you can start serving now.”

  Sherry served the food, avoiding the eyes of the men around the dining table. Several times she had to avoid their groping hands. She could sense, almost taste the heavy air of sexuality in the room, noticed their bulging pants, their longing expressions. It turned her on like never before. After each serving of a course, she had to rush to the bathroom to wash cum from her cleft.

  The meeting was conducted during dinner. When it was time to serve dessert, Vincent asked her to remove the apron. She obliged and served dessert wearing nothing but her high heeled shoes. Her clitoris throbbed, her vagina ached, her nipples constant hard pebbles, the skin around the
m puckering.

  One by one the men disappeared into the bathroom. The thought that they were jacking off from watching her, caused another stream of cum to run down her legs. Finally they’d all left and she was alone with Vincent.

  “You did very well, Sherry.” Emphasis on her name. So he’d recognized her… He sidled up to her as she set the dishes in the sink. “Leave the clean-up for the maid. I’ve got other things on my mind.” He undid the buttons of his fly allowing his pulsating cock to spring free. “Woman, you’re full of surprises. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought the super capable of this…”

  Sherry faced him, her back against the sink. She wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through the patch of hair on his chest, to encase his massive cock in her hands, to suck, fondle, play. But, for some reason she hesitated. If she gave in to him now, the erotica of it all would be over and she’d get no more catering business out of him, and if Michael Ross ever found out, she’d get fired. Also, she’d be branded easy, a slut. No way did she want that. Her erotic cravings for Vincent was nothing but primal lust. She wanted a man in her life, yes, but not casual sex. It wasn’t part of her make-up. “No touching,” she gasped the words unwillingly leaving her lips.

  Vincent’s hand fell back to his side. “I could take advantage of you. We’re alone.”

  “You promised. I could evict you,” she murmured.

  “At least let me satisfy myself while I look at you. Will you do that much for me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed and sat on the counter and drew her legs up so he could see her clit.

  “Oh, God….” he murmured while jerking off frantically. “Where have you been all my life. Open your legs more, baby. Yes…that’s it…”

  Sherry feasted her eyes on his massive cock. She closed them and imagined it inside of her. Without realizing, her fingers entered her vagina. She rotated them fast while listening to his rapid breaths. Only, another image replaced his face. That of Michael Ross.