3

Luis’s boss had closed the garage. As we approached Forty-Fifth Street, we noticed the shop door had been rolled down and the racks of tires that normally graced the sidewalk had been taken inside. It appeared as though the power had not yet been restored either. People still lingered in bodega doorways and fanned themselves on their stoops as they drank and smoked the day away.

“Shit. Sorry you walked all the way up here. I figured the power might be back on by now.”

“No problem. I enjoyed the walk… even though it’s hot as hell,”

he laughed.

Our walk was nice. The conversation was easy and we got to know each other a little better, as much as two people possibly could as they hoofed in temperatures hovering around a hundred degrees.

Sweat formed a V on the front of Luis’s tank top. Smaller Vs trailed down the sides under his arms. The front of my T-shirt was speckled with sweat, and I wiped the sheen from my forehead with my bicep, the sleeve of my tee acting as a sweat rag. I could smell the heat on me, a combination of deodorant and a light sweat mingling under my arms. It was only natural in that condition, but I felt myself grow self-conscious. Not self-conscious enough to send Luis home, though.

I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him. If we hooked up, it would likely be a onetime thing. Would I be okay with that? I told myself I would. But I would have been just as happy hanging out with him on my couch, talking about nothing.

I’d always been able to draw a line with people, to put them in their respective boxes;

they were friends, tricks, or relationship material.

Very rarely had anyone crossed over those lines or occupied two boxes at once.

Luis was confusing me, though.

I wasn’t sure which box, if any, he would fit into.

It seemed unlikely that he’d be relationship material.

I could picture him hanging out with his boys on a Friday night, getting drunk and not getting home until four in the morning, never calling or texting to let me know where he was.

But that was conjecture. I hardly knew him. I didn’t know what his goals in life were. I knew nothing of his hopes, his dreams, his ambitions. The kind of life he wanted to make for himself. Nearly the same number of years had passed us by. The same global events. Maybe we could find common ground. We’d had a good time together so far.

But it was wishful thinking.

Maybe.

Probably.

“You wanna come up? I’ve got water. It’s probably warm, but?—”

“Sure.”

He didn’t even have to think about it. He knew what he wanted. Whether that was water, more time with me, or just a fuck, I wasn’t sure. But I couldn’t be bothered to give it too much thought. I would put him in the one-night-stand box and call it a fucking day.

We climbed three flights of stairs in the stagnant hallway. The black-and-off-white tiled landings scuffed with shoe marks were almost nauseating in their complacency. Nothing seemed to move, least of all the air.

Short locks of dark hair, matted with perspiration, stuck to my forehead by the time we reached my front door. I brushed them out of the way with the back of my hand, almost swatting them away. My hair wasn’t long enough to go much of anywhere but it suddenly felt heavy on my head.

Luis stood close to me on the landing as I stuck the key into the lock and twisted it to the left. I could almost feel his breath on the back of my neck, the heat from his frame jumping to mine. He didn’t touch me. He simply hovered, teasing me, leading me on. Turning me on. I pushed the door open and invited him in, turning my head over my shoulder to face him. We were maybe six inches apart. He smiled and thanked me before following me in.

The air in my apartment was still warm, still motionless, still uncomfortable, but felt somewhat better than it did on the street outside. At least there were no exhaust fumes from passing buses and idling cars on the curb, packed with friends and neighbors basking in the air-conditioning.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure. It’s through there.”

I motioned toward the bathroom.

My apartment was dim and silent. I heard Luis’s stream hit the bowl and splash into the water pooled at the bottom of the toilet. Damn, these old apartments and their acoustics. While he relieved himself, I threw all the windows open again, trying to circulate some air, and then grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. They still had the slightest chill to them, and I was eternally grateful.

I stepped over my couch and ducked through the window, pushing onto the fire escape. The densely populated neighborhood sprawled out before me. The scene was the same as it was before I’d left my apartment hours ago, the only difference being the particular faces that inhabited the space.

A few moments later, a presence made itself known behind me, the firmness of pectoral muscles against my back, the weaving of legs between mine, the softness of lips pressing against the back of my neck. Two large hands, calloused and rough and minorly grease-stained, gripped the iron railing on either side of mine. Luis’s physique trapped me in place, imprinting itself on me. The warmth of his body… the intensity of his scent… they pummeled me. Enraptured me.

Sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped down my chest. The sudden discomfort of moisture under my arms took me aback and forced me to address the reality of the situation we were in. Self-consciousness slowly crept into my brain and told me that my freshness had likely expired. That I’d maybe become too ripe to enjoy.

“God, you smell good,”

Luis mentioned as his lips disconnected from my neck.

I lifted my arm and pretended to smell myself, a self-mocking gesture meant to lend levity to the situation. “I need a bath.”

Luis kissed me again, this time on the curve of my neck, forcing me to lean my head to one side, to allow him easier access. He then inhaled deeply, pulling the heat from my flesh into his core. “Nah. You don’t.”

My skin was sweat-slicked, only drying long enough for a new batch of perspiration to push itself from my pores.

I’m sure it tasted salty and rich, but Luis didn’t seem to mind as he wrapped his hands around my waist and slowly slid them up my sides, just under my T-shirt.

His fingertips tickled the fine, dark hair that coated my abdomen and chest.

His hands eased themselves around my frame and his fingers brushed against my nipples, causing them to contract and harden under his touch. He kissed my jawline where it met my neck, just below my ear.

And then he stopped.

I didn’t want him to, and his pause didn’t feel final, but he dropped his arms from my frame and placed his hands back on the railing. I took a small step backward and allowed my ass to graze the adequate bulge that had formed in his jeans. Luis moaned into my ear and stayed exactly where he stood.

We simply watched the scene play out in front of us with his lips next to my ear. Witnessed the drama of the city below in the midst of a heat wave. In the midst of a blackout that had halted almost everything. Everything except human interaction.

“They don’t usually last this long, ya know?”

Luis started. “I think the longest one I’ve been through was, like, two hours.”

“Yeah,”

I replied. “Same. It’ll probably come back on soon.”

“I hope so. I flushed the toilet but it wasn’t filling back up. Sorry about that.”

“Shit,”

I laughed, turning myself around to face him, leaning my back against the railing, still surrounded by his muscled limbs. “I forgot to mention it. The water’s out. I should have said something.”

He smiled before leaning in and taking my mouth, pressing his lips to mine softly.

I returned the gesture and connected with him, opening my lips to pull his bottom one between mine, to taste his mouth.

The scent of beer still lingered on him.

I’m sure he could taste it on me as well.

We kissed, our tongues eventually finding their way into each other’s mouths. The heat between us was intense but gentle. Accepting and reciprocating.

As we fell deeper into one another, as our senses heightened but our reasoning diminished, nerves about my back leaning against the railing of the fire escape crept in. We were four stories up. I had no doubt Luis would grab me if I slipped, but I didn’t feel like taking that chance.

I pulled away from him. “Wanna go inside?”

“Sure,”

he agreed with a lustful grin.

I grabbed the bottles of water from the landing and handed one to him.

He twisted the cap and downed half of it in one slug.

His Adam’s apple lifted and bobbed as he swallowed and the stubble danced across his neck, a five o’clock shadow that would probably look even sexier on the second day.

I tossed back my water as we stepped through the open window, over the couch, and onto the rug-covered parquet floor of my living room, crumpling the plastic in my fist before recapping it.

I once read somewhere that it was best to downsize items before tossing them into the recycling bin and it stuck with me.

I had no idea if that was true.

I had no idea if the recycling even made it to the recycling center or if it was simply tossed into the back of the garbage truck with the trash.

I guess it didn’t matter at that moment.

But Luis did the same thing before handing his bottle to me.

I walked them to the kitchen and tossed them out, and before I could even turn around, I was pinned to the wall, my arms above my head, locked at the wrists by Luis’s strong hands.

The hem of my T-shirt raised with the movement, showing off the lower part of my midsection.

That olive patch of flat, furry stomach contrasted with the bright white waistband of my gray briefs where they rose above the waistband of my shorts.

Luis attacked my neck with his mouth, forcing my jawline up and my head to the side so he could taste me, so he could devour me.

And I let him.

My face was inches from his armpit as he made out with my neck, and without thinking, I breathed him in.

I hadn’t intended to, but the heat of the day lingered on him and I found the scent of him irresistible.

The black hairs that curled around themselves glistened in the sunlight pouring through the kitchen window.

His presence alone was masculine and erotic.

And tempting beyond belief.

Maybe I knew we’d hook up the moment I saw him turn the corner onto Forty-Fifth Street.

Maybe I figured it out when he appeared next to my table at the bar in the Village.

Maybe it wasn’t clear until I invited him up to my apartment.

But at that moment, with his lips on my neck and my arms pinned to the wall above me, the decision had been made, and I wanted to be nowhere else.

Deodorant and cologne were no match for Luis’s rugged sweat, for his sex, and while the former both clung to him, playing with my senses like dogs play with bones, the latter had punched through to become the aching, heady scent that caused my dick to stir and my hips to buck against the kitchen wall.

Luis finally released my arms from his grip only to grasp the bottom of my T-shirt and yank it over my head, completely exposing my upper half to him.

Had the air conditioner been working, the sudden exposure would have been erotically satisfying.

It felt nice being ripped from my clothing by a hot guy, but the air was so thick that my undoing lacked the refreshing comfort of a cool blast pummeling my skin.

As soon as he had my shirt off, as soon as it hit the ground, he pinned my arms above my head again and buried his face in my pit, inhaling my scent, licking me, drinking me in.

Maybe Luis had a thing for pits.

Maybe he had a thing for me.

I didn’t care.

The sensations he gave me felt intensely carnal and distinctly taboo.

A piece of me I would have rarely allowed anyone to indulge in—maybe no one—was being taken advantage of.

And what did I care? Luis was simply a hookup.

I’d probably never see him again.

After he’d bathed my pits, he dropped my arms and nipped at each of my nipples, lightly biting them, causing me to wince from the playful pain he’d inflicted on me.

He then licked and kissed them before shifting even lower to kiss the flesh around my navel, playing with that sensitive area of my stomach, never giving me the chance to stop him.

I didn’t want to.

I didn’t want to stop him from doing anything.

He unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, and I quickly kicked off my sneakers so I could easily shed the rest of my clothing.

My shorts tumbled down my thighs and landed in a heap at my ankles, and Luis wasted no time nosing at the growing pouch of my briefs, inhaling deeply as he explored my package.

My dick was completely stiff inside them, punching at the fabric, stretching it.

A small wet spot appeared where the tip of my cock met the cotton, and Luis kissed it before hooking his fingers into the waistband and pulling them down my frame, freeing my growing erection.

His force was aggressive, all but tearing my briefs from my frame.

My dick bounced up, excitement on its brain.

He gently kissed the tip, then licked his lips before opening his mouth and sliding down my length, barely touching me with his tongue.

The heat from his breath enveloped me.

It made me writhe in anticipation.

Everything was hot: the temperature outside, the air in my apartment, Luis’s mouth on my flesh.

But somehow, at that moment, it all worked.

Luis teased me like that for a while before wrapping his lips firmly around me, tasting me, taking me into him.

His tongue danced a wild number up and down the length of my cock and sent knee-weakening pulses through my body.

He took me into his throat and massaged the head of my cock with his tightness, his wetness.

He planted his face at the base of my cock and traced his nose through my pubic hair, closing his eyes as he took my scent into him.

He gently fondled my balls and brought me close to a climax I didn’t want to experience yet.

Not before I’d had a chance to explore more of his body.

Once he felt he’d satisfied me enough, when my fingertips grasped at the wall behind me in vain and every muscle around my midsection began to tighten, he tore off of me and grabbed my waist, turning me around.

He made me lead him to my bedroom.

I was completely naked and Luis was fully clothed, and for some reason, that turned me on.

He playfully slapped my ass as we stood at the side of my bed.

That full bed that I’d pushed against the wall with the window in that tiny bedroom to create more space for movement while getting dressed in front of the closet.

To make entering and exiting the room less arduous.

I turned around to face Luis and he bit his bottom lip with more sex appeal than I imagined was possible.

He then pushed gently on my shoulders and I fell backward onto the bed, exposed to him, open to him.

Beneath him.

With a gentle nudge to the back of each foot with the toes of the other, he lost his Timberland boots, then pulled off his socks, tossing them to the floor.

He yanked his white tank over his head and sent it cascading.

His chest and abdomen were nearly smooth, only a few wispy black hairs dotting the valleys between the defined mounds of muscle that made up his pecs.

God, he was sexy.