As I stand outside my apartment, I find myself looking up at the neighboring condominium. It towers above me like a castle from a fairytale, with a damsel trapped inside awaiting her valorous saviour. Can I be that saviour?
The top floor looks to be about forty stories up and is lined with large penthouse suites winding around the building. She has to be in one of them.
Ignoring the long queue of New Yorkers waiting for the elevator – a common sight on a Friday night – each eager to return to their respective apartments after indulging in the city's relentless nightlife, I choose the stairs. I even manage to skip one with each stride. I don’t remember having this much endurance, I think with a smile. I haven’t sprinted for ages.
However, around the twentieth floor, exhaustion hits me like a sucker punch. My lungs ache and I can taste iron in my mouth, making it hard for me to breathe. My thighs cramp beneath my skirt – I was overconfident. Regardless, I continue my ascent at a jogging pace, reaching the forty-third floor slightly dizzy and out of breath.
A neighbour greets me, but in my state of fatigue and urgency, I neither have the energy nor the time for pleasantries. Giving her a quick nod, I rush past her. Time is of the essence here. I shut the door behind me and dart to my floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the bustling city. It’s difficult to tell that it’s past midnight, with the flood of bright lights down at street level. I plant my hands along the glass and gaze at the condo across from me. I never really paid much attention to it until now. Primarily because large, forty-story buildings like this are literally scattered everywhere in New York. This was just another one in a large meadow of condos. Another metallic intrusion in this concrete jungle.
Who knew that the girl of my dreams lived across from me? In a window that I could have been…looking into, watching her?
My imagination runs wild, creating vivid and erotic scenes of us together in my bedroom. I picture myself kissing every part of her body, starting with those luscious lips and moving down to her thick, voluptuous cock. I can almost taste the sweetness of her pre-cum on my tongue. As I imagine her coming, I visualize the look of pleasure on your face as your tip hits the back of my throat. It excites me just thinking about it.
I get all tingly, hot and bothered, but I need to snap out of this daze. She encapsulates more than just physical allure. Our bond is unmistakable; we both sense it. She is the person I've spent my life searching for. Now, it's time for me to save her.
Promptly, I scan the top-floor apartments for any indications of her presence, but I find none. Either blackout curtains are obscuring the view or the interior lights are switched off, leaving me unable to see anything. My hands grimly slide down the glass with a melancholy squeak and I let them hang to my sides.
Suddenly, at the outer fringes of my sight, a light illuminates in the corner penthouse. The once-darkened room is now easily visible. Three easily identified broad men clad in suits enter, propelling a tall girl ahead of them.
“That’s her!” I shout aloud and my own voice somehow startles me. My hands press on the window once again and my nose smudges up against the glass like a chunky kid drooling behind a chocolate store window.
In a careless manner, they fling her onto the couch, an act that triggers my fury. I clench my teeth as they gesture towards her as if she were a fugitive, articulating something to a man whose back is turned towards me, seated comfortably on a luxurious armchair. Judging by his lavish robe and the drink he holds, I deduce that he is the one manipulating her. Enslaving her.
With that beautiful cocky smirk of hers, she says something to him, which causes the three men to look quite agitated. The man in the armchair gets up and slowly walks over to Alicia, gently brushing his hand along an assortment of extravagant artifacts placed around his home.
This man…who is he? He looks rich. Well of course he is, if he owns a penthouse in New York City.
He seems to be talking, using his hands hypnotically to emphasize his words. At last, he moves himself to Alicia's side, who doesn't acknowledge him.
However, abruptly, he takes a quick step towards her, lowers his hand down her shirt to touch her breast, and initiates a forceful kiss on her lips. The sight unsettles my stomach and constricts my chest. Anger surges within me and I harshly hit my fist against the window. “Let go of her, you sicko!” I yell.
But that pain is lifted when I see her immediately pull away and use the back of her hand to wipe the kiss from her lips. I just love how feisty she is.
The man lifts his arm, intending to strike her. Yet Alicia remains unphased, merely gazing at him as if inviting the impending assault. Annoyed, he drops his hand and retreats into a different room. Subsequently, the blinds are drawn shut by the men in black suits. I bite my lip in anguish and take a deep breath. But my adrenaline isn’t allowing my body to relax. I need to do something.
Should I call the police?
My phone beeps and startles me. It’s a reminder of my meeting tomorrow. A news flash suddenly leaps into my head, informing me that the real world still exists. My presentation for tomorrow can’t be postponed, despite any urgent mission I believe I'm part of. Preparation is essential, and I need to streamline my thoughts. I was supposed to pick up supplies at my office for tomorrow, but I was… distracted, to say the least.
Wait. My eyes shoot open. I may have just developed one of the most dangerous, unintelligent plans of my life. Maybe I could use those tools?
I shake my head laughing maniacally at myself.
This isn’t a movie.
But…it might just work.
I can’t think clearly. My pussy is throbbing, I need to come so I can focus.
No. I won’t allow it. Not until I’m with her. I will hold it in for as long as it takes.
In a flash, I bolt out the door, heading straight for the stairwell, but the fatigue in my legs and lungs reminds me I'm not fully recuperated from my earlier climb. The shimmering sight of the elevator glows brightly in the side of my eyes as I press forward. I halt to press the descend button and the doors split apart instantly with a chime, as though destiny was rooting for me. The vacant elevator seems to invite me in as if recognizing the critical nature of my pressing task.
“Thank you,” I say to it, then grimace, wondering when I had started talking to inanimate objects.
I press for the ground floor and the doors close. A proud smile spans across my face proudly and I cross my arms as though I know what I’m doing. But the elevator barely picks up speed as it comes to a slow halt on floor thirty-nine. My foot impatiently taps the floor and I scoff in astonishment. Could it have been too much to ask for? Making it to ground level without stopping for a resident at two in the morning.
“You betrayed me,” I say to the elevator in disgust.
An older lady with curly grey hair steps in with a walker, slower than a snail. I throw my smile back on and nod to her. I really shouldn’t be angry. She’s always been nice to me.
The lady waves and looks thrilled that someone interacted with her.
“How are you today?” she asks.
“Good,” I say, my finger already pounding the close door button for the twentieth time like a maniac.
“Couldn’t sleep. So might as well go for a stroll,” she says.
“Good idea.”
It’s difficult to sustain my smile, as the doors finally close. I exhale and watch the numbers above the door quickly decrease. I wait in anticipation for any signs of slowing down.
Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Come on!
The elevator slows at seventeen and I bang my fist against the metal wall. I look over and notice the lady didn’t seem to hear me. I feel relieved, but I don’t know why I care so much. Swallowing, I poised my finger, ready to target a specific button.
As the doors separate slightly, my finger spears the close door button faster than a tiger ambushing its prey. The waiting man looks flabbergasted as the doors immediately shut before him. Through the narrow gap in the doors, his expression of utter bewilderment is apparent.
“Hey!” the man yells irritably through the closed doors.
I flash a smile and observe the diminishing numbers as the elevator gathers momentum. His voice, however, reverberates down the lift shaft.
“You have somewhere to be,” the lady says to me as the elevator hits the ground level. “Good luck. You go first.”
“Thanks! There’s someone I need to help!” I yell, relieved that I didn’t leave a rude impression. I break out of the apartment's front door, looking left, then right.
My office is only a couple blocks away.
I turn right again, navigating down Fifth Street, observing a multitude of young New Yorkers taking pleasure in the metropolis's nocturnal life. They've all dressed up, chortling with their companions, flagging down taxis. Despite being two in the morning, the streets remain bustling with vehicles and pedestrians.
I dismissively shake my head and continue sprinting, faintly remembering my younger days visiting clubs and indulging in drinks. Not that I’m old now, it’s just when you’re in your late twenties, careers take over one’s ability to stay out late…and have fun. I laugh at these young girls, with short dresses, thick makeup, and hair extensions. They have nothing on Alicia.
Finally, I arrive at the entrance of McSorley Construction Safety Supplies. Its fifty-story tower, just off the main road, still has random beams of light shining from numerous windows across the glass-covered structure. This isn't merely our headquarters; we also have warehouses spread throughout the nation. Although this location isn't a warehouse, it holds an abundance of equipment samples. Samples that will be necessary for the potentially dangerous plan I'm about to execute.
The recklessly daring idea, conceived in my apartment, now conjures terrifying visions of potential peril. It is without a doubt crazy. But what other option did I have?
The swipe of my keycard triggers a welcoming green light for entry. The place is dimly lit, but before I can step into the polished marble lobby, the security guard blocks my path.
“No, no, no,” he says hotly. “Miss, you’re going to have to leave. Office hours are over.”
“But I work here,” I say, emotionally distraught.
“Doesn’t matter.” He gently begins pushing me back through the door.
“But there are lights on up there. Surely you let other people in.”
“Unless you’re a VP or CEO, you cannot be here right now.”
But that fire from earlier still lingered. The scorching flame that Alicia unknowingly ignited in my chest. A burning passion to do whatever it took to save her. Even if it cost me my own dignity.
Inhaling deeply, my body instinctively moves without conscious thought. My slender fingertips lightly touch the brawny man's arm, as I lift my eyes to meet his, mimicking the sultry look I saw Alicia use just an hour earlier.
This unexpected flirtation surprises the attractive security guard, leaving him visibly stunned.
“Are you sure you can’t let me in for a few minutes? I won’t be very long.” My hand climbs up his arm to his shoulder and my nails gently scratch his nape. I can see the bulge of his Adam's apple expand as he gulps nervously.
I think it’s working. My first attempt at seduction. I could get used to this.
“Uh… I really… can’t… it’s against…protocol…”
Then my hand climbs up to his blonde hair and I tousle it serenely.
“You can even…escort me if you’d like,” I pout my lips and nibble on them seductively with a glint of hope in my eyes. Or at least that’s how I think I look.
Sweat forms on his brow and starts to trickle down. “J–Just a few minutes. But if you’re not back here soon, I’ll have to escort you out myself.”
This power is quite scary. I shouldn’t get used to this.
I let my hand slide down his body settling back at my side and I grin at him. “I owe you one. I’ll be back soon.”
He remains there for a series of moments as if glued to the well-shined floor beneath him. Slowly, he retreats to his desk in an almost daze-like state. Meanwhile, I head towards the elevators, radiating a gratifying sense of achievement. I feign going upward, and secretly press the basement floor, watching the doors seal before me.
The items I require are stowed away in the basement storage lockers. I sprint from the lift and locate the lockers. Using my access card, I unlock the tenth locker in row 'E'. It houses the bulk of our equipment; featuring ropes, harnesses, and bolt cutters.
I grab the lot, and throw them into a black duffle bag, though I hope I don’t have to use everything here.
The sweetness of her kiss lingers on my lips. It tastes like fresh strawberries with a subtle hint of lavender. I see her face in my mind's eye every few seconds. I can't help but wonder what she’s feeling right now. Is she upset? The expression of despair that marked her face when we last met... I cannot bear to see her like that again. Heaving the duffle bag over my shoulder, I bypass the lift for my return journey. Instead, I opt for the emergency exit. I don't relish the idea of sauntering through the main entrance with a bag full of 'borrowed' equipment. No that won’t do at all.
I emerge from a back alley adjacent to the building, which reeks of a foul odour. I cringe plugging my nose as I dash to the main street. From this vantage point, I can see her residence. A towering prison of sorts. I swallow hard and clench my fist, steeling myself for the task ahead.
*
Looking upwards strains my neck as I take in the towering height of the condo building in front of me. It's truly overwhelming. The next task at hand is reaching the rooftop.
The facade of the building is a fitting reflection of the tenants residing within. Elaborate steel patterns adorn the front wall - no doubt an expensive undertaking. A lush garden, blooming with vibrant flowers and enclosed by thick hedges, guides the path to the double glass door entrance standing at a staggering twenty feet. Thin, elongated steel handles gracing the doors further add to the opulence. To say that the inhabitants of this place are simply wealthy would be a gross understatement. They must be some of the most powerful people in New York.
I begin to execute ‘Plan A’; a poorly thought-out- on the whim tactic, that could cause some serious injury to myself. Which is why I have this duffle bag. I circle the building, scanning for a fire escape staircase. an alternative way to ascend the building that doesn't involve the use of the elevator. After approximately five minutes of navigating around the expansive condominium without spotting one at ground level, I believe I see what appears to be a ladder emerging from a door halfway up.
Bingo. But how do I get into the building?
I glance inside the main entryway via the stunning glass doors. The security appears uncompromising. Two robust men clothed in posh uniforms. I've sweet-talked one in the past, but this situation feels different. Scarier. I think it's safer to dodge them.
I suppose my best bet is to patiently wait for someone and tailgate behind them similar to those eerie men portrayed in films.
A tedious span of ten minutes passes without a soul around. It's only to be expected at such an early hour of three in the morning.
Ugh. Every second I waste here is another perverted touch by that man
Finally, like a turtle crossing the street, an older man dressed in a fancy suit, eyes up the door to my side. It looks like he has been working through the night in an office; his leather briefcase clutched tightly in his fingers. His face is fixed on the door and doesn’t seem to want to make any eye contact with me.
Awkwardly clutching my duffle bag, I silently wish for the approaching man to hold the door open for a girl struggling to reach her keys. As the man takes his time to reach me, he distinctly avoids acknowledging my pleading grin.
With a gleaming gold keycard in hand, he brushes it over the sensor next to the door. The indicator light changes from red to green - a sign that we've been granted access.
A hint of anticipation sparks in me as I moisten my lips and my eyes grow larger. Cautiously, I inch closer to the man.
“I don’t think so,” the man says grumpily, halting me in my tracks. “You partying lot always trying to get in the building. Make loud noises. Steal our cars.”
“No, I just can’t find my keys.”
“You reek of lies and cigarettes.”
“Ah silly me, I forgot them in my room upstairs.”
“Go harass another building,” he says gruffly as the large glass door is slowly about to close.
No. This is my last attempt to get into the building. I can’t waste another second.
The door is kept from latching by my foot. It's painfully jammed between the hefty door and its steel frame. It's possibly fractured in multiple places, but my adrenaline prevents me from concentrating on the discomfort. A security officer casts a wary glance my way from his desk.
"Please, hold on," I plead, erasing the alluring smile from my face and revealing my genuine desperation. "Someone upstairs needs me, and I'm the only one who can help. Please. She’s important to me. This is the truth."
The man comes to a standstill without pivoting, his slick silver hair shimmering as he shakes his head slowly. He turns around and finally meets my desperate gaze. His jaw clenches and walks toward the door. “I’ve been a lawyer for thirty years. I can sense the honesty in your voice. Sometimes it helps to just speak the truth from the beginning – skip past all the bullshit. But if I hear of any parties or stolen cars, I will give the police your description.”
“I won’t! I swear,” I say.
“Just don’t cause any trouble. Come in.” He holds the door for me and I walk in. I can’t shake the feeling like I’m entering a place I should not be. Inside, a beautiful fountain greets me; its water trickling in my ear that would make anyone feel a sense of tranquility. The marble tile is so polished, I can see my black thong in the reflection of the floor. I really do look a bit slutty tonight. My pussy is still throbbing for her. Ever since she kissed me, the swelling in my labia has not diminished. I fear it will never relax until she thrusts her stunning dick deep inside me.
The security officers all stare me down as if I was a wanted criminal as we stride past their surveillance desk.
“Thank you again,” I whisper, veering off toward the door that’s labeled ‘stairs.’ With whatever strength I have left, I begin my ascension upward.
Feeling the burn in my legs, I cross the threshold of the twentieth floor. As I reach the twenty-first step, an intriguing sight greets me - a door, marked 'fire escape' hangs just above it. I force myself through the doorway, immediately spotting a rusty and narrow ladder leading to higher floors. The ladder's treacherous spiral around the building promises a daunting and unstable climb. Nevertheless, a smile of gratification tugs at my lips and my fist tightens. A realization hits me that I haven't really achieved anything noteworthy. After all, this was merely the simplest part.
My upward journey begins, the ladder trembling beneath my feet with each ascending step. From the twenty-first floor, the people below are reduced to mere specks. My hands, as they slide along the railings, pick up the cold and dusty texture. I’m out of breath by the time I get to floor forty, the highest floor – the penthouse suites. However, the staircase only leads me to a door without a knob. Absolutely no entry. It's simply an exit door. Considering that it's a fire escape, I should've expected that.
Up here, the temperature has drastically dropped. The wind slices my exposed skin like sharp blades. My nipples are fully hard, protruding through my fitted shirt. Memories of Alicia fondling them send a shiver down to my lower body. This feeling only drives me further - making me stronger. The thought of potentially never seeing her again is unbearable. I have to keep going.
I look up at the roof, which is another twenty feet above. Opening my duffle bag, I rummage around for the grappling hook and harness. Upon finding them, I grip them tightly, realizing how stupid I look.
Do I think I’m in a movie or something? What is wrong with me? Are you really going to scale a forty-story building?
In an instant, I imagine my extended tongue caressing Alicia's sweaty body, tracing the curve of her navel, navigating the expanse of her voluptuous breasts, brushing over her enticing lips, and then all ideas of me feeling stupid, suddenly fade away.
Drawing influence from several cinematic scenes, I twirl my grappling hook like a propeller to my side and fling it towards the open sky. It soars upwards, entirely bypassing the lofty iron pipe I had intended to hit.
This is going to be harder than it looks
But on my third try, I release the grapple at the precise time, and the claw tightly wraps around the tall metal piece a few times. I exhale, tugging the rope. It…feels secure. I attach the harness to my waist belt.
I shrug nervously, pushing away those invasive danger signals my body is sending me. Then I take a quick hop, shooting my legs toward the wall. My feet stick to the brick wall like a fly on the wall and I begin walking upwards like a ninja. With each step, I move my harness upward – a slow and tedious process, but you can never be too safe. I don’t want Alicia finding my mangled body sprawled on the asphalt outside her building.
But twenty strenuous minutes later, with blistered hands, I reach the flat top of the condo. I push aside the pain, thinking only of how I can’t feel her smooth body with my hands now.
I guess I’ll just have to use my tongue
Scattered about the entire rooftop are tiny pebbles, as if a playground, which I find quite amusing. I take a moment to turn and relish the view below, finding a sense of pride within me.
The pleasant view of a small square in the center of the roof fills me with a sense of delight; an escape route downward to who knows where. I'm hoping it leads to Alicia's room.
I dash for the opening and crank open the latch door. What a surprise, darkness. I pull my flashlight from my bag and shine it around. I think it’s a ventilation shaft.
Noticing the size of the ducts, I conclude that a slender girl like myself should have little trouble navigating through. I hastily throw my bag to one side of the rooftop, but not before seizing a coiled rope and securing it to my belt, letting it hang freely.
Head first, I lower myself into the narrow duct, with the butt end of the flashlight stuck in my mouth, guiding me along the linear path. It’s cold and smells like old carpeting, but I push through. Every move I make creates sharp echoes around me. I’m not too sure where this will lead, I just hope I don’t suddenly fall through a hole in the bottom, down into a dark abyss.
I finally spot some numbers ahead, and my forearms drag me closer.
“4101 S, 4102 S, 4103 S,” I mumble aloud, and there is a small arrow pointing to the left path in the juncture written by hand along the metal duct. And to the right path, “4108 N, 4109 N, 4110 N. Hmm… The ‘N’ and ‘S’ must mean… North and South. And if her room is facing my window, then it’s on the South Side.”
With a smile, I choose the path to the left. My arms and knees are starting to wear out, making my crawl noticeably louder. I stop trying to hush my movements and the sound of metal reverberates in my ears with each shuffle forward. I pass small vents in the duct beneath me, each having square openings just an inch or two wide, allowing me to see into the rooms below. But so far, all I see is darkness, with nothing catching my interest.
Suddenly, I hear something amidst the noise of my body hitting against the sides of the duct. The sound is low, but undoubtedly, it's human voices from up ahead. But...what could it be? I quicken my crawl, inevitably bumping my head against the top a few times. “Ow,” I rub my head. “I have to be quieter.” I listen more carefully.
It sounds like… moaning?
“Ugh…Ugh…yes…yes,” the sound of a female moans down the shaft.
It sounds like…sex. People are having sex below me!
I pray that it’s not Alicia.
I inch towards the closest set of openings in the grate ahead. Light is radiating through it, brightly illuminating my passage. My flashlight becomes obsolete so I switch it off and stow it away in my pocket. With utmost caution, I drag myself toward the grate and steal a look into the space beneath.