Life of Paul: Rendezvous: Leila

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All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons is unintentional.


If you are enjoying these stories, leave a comment about what you liked or didn’t, or things you want to ready more of. I’ll take advice into consideration when I’m working out the next parts of the LoP stories.


May 1998

I lived in my apartment for a little over a year and a half. In all that time I didn’t really pay attention to any of my neighbors or their comings or goings. My apartment was on the second floor, but I had a window by the front door that showed my neighbors door and the stairwell we shared. I could see out and down the stairs normally, but on this afternoon I couldn’t see anything. A large mattress was blocking the way and it looked stuck. Repeated back and forth actions of this seemingly free floating mattress did not help matters.

I went outside and called to the other side of the mattress.

“Would you like some help,” I asked the mattress.

“For shits sake, yes please!” said the female voice of the mattress.

“I assume you’re going into the next apartment?”

“Yes, the doors open but this thing is stuck.”

I grabbed a side and helped maneuver the queen size mattress up the exceedingly narrow stairway. Once it was on its long side I got a look at the person hauling it up the stairs.

She was maybe a couple years older than me, fair skinned with a round face, an easy smile, and round sea green eyes. Her hair was a large pile of very curly brown locks that was currently let down and blowing in the wind.

“Hi,” she said after getting the mattress on the landing. “I’m Leila.”

“Paul,” I replied. “Just getting moved in?”

“I’ve actually been here over a week. Today was the first day I actually had off to get my apartment sorted out.”

We slid the mattress inside her place which was a mirror of my own apartment. We slid it into the bedroom where it flopped heavily to the floor.

“Thanks,” she breathed gratefully, “that was a pain getting it even that far up the stairs.” She held out her hand, which I shook. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I said, shaking her hand. Looking around her apartment I noticed that there was close to nothing in there. Some old takeout boxes, a phone, and some mail on the kitchen counter.

“I know its pretty sparse,” she said, noting my looking around, “I’m in my final year of nursing school and I was at the hospital this entire week. I only came home to sleep and then back to work. Night shift mostly, which is probably why we haven’t met before now.”

She jumped up on the counter to sit a moment, the only place to sit it seems. She was short, maybe 5’3″, but had impressive curves from what I could tell. She was in jeans and a t-shirt so it was difficult to gauge accurately.

“My stuff is still in transit somewhere between Chicago, my last home, and here. The company promised to deliver yesterday, but called at the last minute to say it’s gonna be delayed a few more days.

“I was tired of the blow up mattress so at least I have something soft to sleep on while I’m off the rest of the week.”

It being Monday and after school and all, I decided to be neighborly. “You know,” I started, “I know you don’t know me, but there is a great place a few blocks away for rolled tacos. Good snack for after moving. Would you be interested? My treat.”

Leila cocked her head at me a moment and smiled. “That sounds good. Especially if you’re buying.” She hopped down from the counter. “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes.”

I stopped by my apartment to grab my keys and met her on the landing. She changed her shirt to a more (much more) low cut t-shirt that showed an impressive amount of cleavage. I of course did that auto-glance thing that all guys did but recovered quickly.

We walked down to the taco spot unhurriedly. It was a 15 minute walk, but that was typical for blocks in southern California; distance was measured in time traveled, not actual distance.

We chatted idly about her nursing program and I answered her questions about Rancho Hills. It was a typical suburb but had some fun spots as well. After tacos we stopped and played a few rounds of pool. The pool hall was typical for a town in that its where high school kids hung out to smoke in public cause they couldn’t reliably get alcohol. This, Leila mentioned, was a commonality of every pool hall so we had a good time playing. She probably didn’t have to bend so far over the table for a few shots, but I am certainly glad she did.

On the way back she asked about the pool at our complex and I mentioned it closes at 9. It being 7:30 meant there was time though and I offered to go swimming with her.

“I’d like to,” she said, “but most of my clothes, including swim suits are still in limbo.”

“Well,” I said, “I have a few suits istanbul escort from when I had friends over. You can use one of those; they’re clean and I think they’d fit.”

She pondered this a moment. “Would these be the ones belonging to the woman I’ve spotted coming and going to your apartment?” She had a hint of playfulness in her voice.

I’m pretty sure my face reddened a bit. “I assure you those bikini’s aren’t what I wear to the pool,” I said.

“I’d guessed that,” Leila said. “Besides, from what I hear coming through the walls, I’d be surprised if your voice gets that high.” She didn’t even break stride as we walked back to the apartments. “I thought it might have been cheesy horror movies, but you mentioned you don’t have a TV, so I put 2 and 2 together.”

My face definitely reddened a bit at that statement. “So, you can hear that well?”

“Only when it gets really loud,” she said. “And from what I can tell she seems to enjoy it, so congratulations on that.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. “Anyways, I’m sorry about that, mostly cause it probably happens when you’re sleeping. I’ll ask them to try to keep it down.”

“Them?” Leila started. This made her break stride a bit. She walked on a few more steps to keep up. “That makes sense,” she said finally, “it did sound like a fairly different voice each time. But still,” she looked my way, “well done.”

“Anyways,” I said, trying to avoid further embarrassment, “you’re welcome to use one of them. So how about it?”

“Sounds fun,” she said smiling.

We chatted more about her job, highs and lows of it, my plans for after school, things of that nature until we got back to the apartment. I invited her inside while I changed in the bedroom. I wore my usual board shorts and got out the various bikinis Amber and Sarah and Ashley had left over.

I exited the bedroom and I could swear Leilas eyes darted down for a moment before she acknowledged me and went into the bedroom to change.

A few minutes later she emerged wearing the one and only bathrobe.

“I figured if you were gallant enough to buy dinner, you’d be fine with me using your robe,” she said with a smirk, sashaying toward the door. I grabbed the towels and followed her to the pool.

Being me, I did my typical jump in and get use to the water quickly routine. Leila was more timid about it. She dipped a toe and and, judging it acceptable, pulled the cord and dropped her (or rather my) robe to the ground.

I could not help but stare at her. She choose probably the skimpiest bikini available. The bottoms were a red Brazilian tie side, and the top was one of the black string bikini ones which barely covered her ample breasts. Looking at her now in this new light I could see she was at least a DD cup and probably the 36-24-36 measurements associated with typical desires of most men.

In any case, she was striking and she knew it. She turned nearly all the way around dipping another foot in the pool before she slowly made her way down the stairs.

“Glad you found something you liked,” I commented.

“Well,” she replied, “it covers more than my usual bikini, but it’ll work well enough.” She dove under the water and swam towards me. Rising from the water she looked like every slow motion emergence of a woman in a commercial I’d ever seen.

She probably did it on purpose. She seemed to be playful in that sort of way.

We swam around for a while, me stealing furtive glances at her when she wasn’t looking. I’d like to think she did the same, but honestly, girls just don’t do that in my experience. Still, swimming with an insanely hot chick was way better than anything else I had planned.

The clock on the wall eventually started to get near 9 so we headed back to my apartment. Once inside, I offered the use of my shower.

“You know, I was going to ask you, but that seemed a bit much seeing as you’ve been so nice today. But it’ll be nice to rinse off the pool water. Thanks,” she said, heading into the bathroom and closing the door.

I was going to content myself with staring blankly at the wall but a few minutes after the water started, I heard Leila call me.

“Yea,” I yelled back through the door.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Possibly,” I called back.

“You can come in, I’m in the shower,” she said. I opened the door to a steamy wall wafting in my face. She was poking her head around the curtain. “Whats up,” I asked her.

“Would you mind scrubbing my back,” she asked. “You don’t have a loofa or anything.” She was smiling with her eyes which is probably the reason I came inside. I tried not to think about her naked body behind that translucent plastic sheet. Doing so would just have made my growing erection worse.

Once inside she absolutely looked down at my shorts, lingering on them for a few moments. She pulled the curtain back and spun at the same time, showing me her backside in all its fleshy glory. I just stood there avcılar escort for a minute staring at her.

“Its nothing you haven’t seen before,” she commented.

“True,” I said, “but as with any work of art, such a masterpiece needs to be properly appreciated.”

She smiled fully at my obvious line, but it was true nonetheless. Seeing her like this was too much for me and my board shorts felt suddenly uncomfortably tight. She looked back at me over her shoulder, smiling, offering me the cloth.

“You know,” she said, “it’d be better if you stepped in so we could both rinse off. Save water and all that.” She turned slightly giving me a great side boob view which I could not at all resist.

She ducked back behind the curtain, leaving it open. I dropped by shorts and stepped in after her. She still had her back to me, looking back, with the wash rag in her hand. Her eyes going up and down my front made me both a little nervous and a lot turned on.

I took the rag and started scrubbing her back. I moved down her arms and her shoulders as well cause I didn’t want to stop scrubbing.

“You can scrub more if you want,” she offered. “And whatever you scrub on me I will return the favor and scrub on you.”

What man (or woman even) could resist that offer?

None. The answer is none.

I started scrubbing down her lower back, reaching down further with each pass. When I got to her ass she arched her back a little, popping it out some. I continued down her legs, getting her feet and moving back up. I was expecting her to turn around but she stayed with her back to me.

I soaped up again and started on her shoulders, moving slowly down to her ample breasts. I spent a good deal of time here, making sure I got under them well since boob sweat is no joke. I moved down her stomach, squeezing out soap to run down between her legs. I didn’t see her front yet, but I could feel my way around.

I moved down her stomach to the top of her vagina, slowly making my way there. She spread her legs slightly to allow me access and I moved between her legs. I sidled up behind her then, letting my now erect cock graze her inner thighs and labia. She arched her back a bit more at this new presence.

I didn’t enter her, but instead massaged her labia with one hand while I focused my other on her clit. She was clean shaved from what I felt, and her clit was larger than I expected. I teased and flicked it for a few minutes and then started to apply pressure in circles on her.

This had the immediate response of heavier breathing from her. She was breathing through her nose but her mouth was open. I increased my pressure on her clit and labia and a few minutes later I was treated with a tightening of her stomach and an “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” escaping through gritted teeth.

I continued a few moments, easier and slower until she came down from her orgasm. I rinsed off my soapy hands and cleaned her crotch and stomach off, ending on her breasts which I may have squeezed a bit for my own pleasure. My cock kept up some contact with her labia through this final wash off, which she subtly rubbed herself on.

She turned around to face me. With her breasts now in full view (they really were that spectacular), I could see large, almost flesh toned areola with a small dark red nipple in the center. They moved slightly with each breath and I was infatuated with them utterly (pardon the pun).

“OK,” she said. “My turn to scrub you.” She took the rag from me and soaped it up. I didn’t make a move to turn around like she did but she didn’t seem of a mind to make me.

Once lathered, she moved close to me, her breasts pressing against my chest. She scrubbed by back at length, moving to my ass and down my legs. She went down far enough so my still erect cock settled in the valley of her breasts, her cheek settling just above my pubic hair. Moving back up she was just out of boob-touching-me range and went up my arms and my shoulders. I stared at her breasts more as she did this, admiring the movements. I caught myself and looked back up into her eyes. There was only amusement there.

“By all means, keep staring at my tits,” she said brightly. “I’ve kinda had them on display for you all day. Might as well take advantage of the situation.”

I looked down, and then back up. “Awesome,” I said, and then continue staring at them moving back and forth with her scrubbing motions.

She moved down my neck and chest, running circles around my stomach. Here eyes were cast down, watching my cock wave back and forth with her motions. She moved her hands further down, scrubbing her fingertips into my pubic hair. It was torture to let her go at her own pace, but she moved on to stroke the base of my cock in both of her hands.

She circled around my girth with both hands and pulled slowly up with one hand and then back again to the base. Her other hand squeezed firmly, hardening my already overly erect member.

She smiled at my minor hip thrusts when şirinevler escort her hand went up and down my shaft. Continuing to squeeze the base with her other hand, she quickened her pace slightly, adding twisting motions to when she came up to the head. I thrust forward more at this new sensation involuntarily and a moan escaped my lips.

“Thats a good sign,” Leila commented.

“If you keep that up you’ll see two more signs,” I retorted.

An eyebrow went up on her face. “Such as?”

Her pace quickened again. “One, you’ll see how hot you’re making me, and two, you’ll see how desirable I think you are by how fast I recover.”

Keeping her pace, she looked down at my cock and then back to me. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, “show me how much you like my tits, I’ll show you how much faster I can make your recovery.” With that she started to increase her pace yet again.

She wasn’t stroking fast; soap isn’t meant to be used as lube and she demonstrated that she knew this. A minute later I was straining my crotch forward ready to cum. Leila sensed this and slowed her pace and aimed my cock upwards, sticking her chest out slightly to present quite the pleasing target.

With a startled “Oh” from her, the first shot hit her under her nose. The second shot hit her neck with the following shots glazing her glorious tits and flat stomach before finally subsiding. She examined my handy (or rather her handy) work with surprise. “Damn,” she said, “you weren’t kidding about how hot I made you.”

Breathing heavily, I said “Glad I didn’t disappoint.”

She smiled, then turned to wash off her face and body. We swapped spots and I rinsed off as well and we stepped out of the shower. Toweling off, she strolled to my bedroom, beckoning me to follow.

She plopped down on the bed. “So,” Leila began, “when I was…well…eavesdropping, I noticed that there wasn’t a lot of time between moaning sessions. I think it was like 10 minutes.

“I’d like to do a couple things with you, but first I’d like to see if I can beat that time,” she said.

I moved over to the bed, leaned down and kissed her firmly. She responded with enthusiasm, our hands roaming over each others bodies. Her hands found their way back to my cock and gave it some gentle squeezes. She broke our kiss and guided me, cock first, closer to her chest. She looked down, wetted both her hands with her tongue and started to stroke my cock. After a few strokes, she spit on my cock and rubbed it in. She pulled me closer and wrapped my cock between her breasts, starting to move her chest up and down.

The softness of her mounds was hard to believe. It felt like she was rubbing me with a warm cloud. Occasionally she would stick out her tongue and lick some circles on the head or add more saliva to her efforts. Each down stroke I tried to move further into her mouth, but only some of the head was wrapped in her lips. An agonizing feeling but an incredibly sexy sight.

I don’t know how much time went by, but I am pretty sure whatever record she was trying to break was broken. After much too short a time in my opinion, she stopped and guided me to lay down on the bed. I was now hard enough for her purposes it seemed.

She straddled me and moved my cock to her labia. Rubbing back and forth, she guided me inside her secret folds slowly. If I thought her tits were a warm cloud, her pussy was a perfectly warm ocean of unique pleasure that Leila invited me to swim in. She was tight and wet and ready for me to enter her. She went slowly but once I was most of the way in she sat down firmly on my cock, a moan sounding from both of our mouths.

“Fuck, that is seriously huge inside me,” she said. After a few more moments of sliding me in and out of her, she said “I am going to ride this pole now. I’m not super loud but trust me; this feels fucking amazing.”

She started riding me in earnest, grinding now and again, touching her clit occasionally. For my part I angled myself for her benefit, cupping her breasts which was a challenge considering their size, playing with her nipples with my thumbs.

Before long she laid down on top of me, grinding harder and faster, moving her hands underneath my ass cheeks. I did the same, squeezing and pulling her towards me as deep as I could go.

I heard a sharp inhale of breath from her, then a scream. “FUuuuuuuuuuuccckk OOOOOOHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh fuuuuck!” she yelled right into my ear. She slowed and stopped afterwards, panting and immobile. I moved slightly, but she pleaded “Wait, dont move”. I waited a few more moments for her to collect herself. “OK,” she said, “grab my ass and push down hard. Go as deep inside me as you can.” I jumped (as it were) to obey. In another minute she was screaming even louder than before.

“Oh fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuckk yeeeeeeeeessssss fucccckkk oohhhhhhhhh my goooood. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” she yelled again in my ear. She moved her hands to above my head to support herself, then started kissing me voraciously, trying to speak between kisses.”

“That…was the most…intense…fucking orgasm…ever.” She stopped kissing me and just laid on top of me, steading her breathing.

My still hard cock reminded me that it was ready to continue playing, a message that was also not lost on Leila. After a few minutes she turned her head to face me.

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