Ruby and I departed her apartment the following morning and ran into the ascending Giscards.
The old bloke greeted us on the stairs warmly—he liked Ruby.
Madame Giscards salutations were rare and reserved.
On this day, the Monsieur's smile expanded extra broad, exposing his worn nicotine-stained teeth; Ruby mentioned he smoked a pipe. Though his grey parted hair and trimmed moustache were manly, he dressed sloppily like his wife. It seemed like she brought his grey pants and tan jumper at a jumble sale.
Monsieur's eyes glinted like he wished to stop and shake my hand and pat Ruby on the butt. Madame's face coloured red and turned sideways, elongating her sharp nose. She held up her stubby fingers to her already buttoned neck. Her bulky, drab, washed-out fawn coat hid her buxom body.
Ruby and I rubbed the stairwell wall, cramped for space. It was not a broad stairwell, and as Madame Giscard tried to sidle, impossible not to touch.
I said, "Excuse, please," while Ruby and the Monsieur said, "Excusez-Moi."
The cold plaster of the stairwell wall infiltrated through my jumper to my shoulder, squeezing by Madame. As his shoulder drifted into Ruby's, I saw the Monsieur's eyebrows rise.
The minx flexed her forearm and furnished a subtle nudge to the old codger.
Madame spoke over her shoulder to Giscard following the squeeze past. Her words were short and sharp, barely above a whisper, accompanied by a squint of disdain at Ruby and a rib poke at her husband.
A couple of steps down the stairs, I elbowed Ruby, worried about what Madame said to the Monsieur.
"What did Madame say? What was it, Ruby?"
"Shameless hussy," she fired, including a dismissive head jerk.
Ruby spread her hands on her hips and mocked Madame's voice, "Oh, I am shameful!" with wide eyes, loud enough for Madame to hear.
She grabbed a decent handful of my butt as only Monsieur Giscard reacted as he sneaked an ogling glance backwards.
I realised the Giscards heard our sex last night. Ruby told me the walls were thin when I arrived at the apartment.
She should have added the ceilings!
Ruby's climax made her shriek the previous night.
Our sex was incredible and intense. We were sharing wine on the couch as midnight ticked over. Ruby had completed an extended shift and needed to cut loose as she relayed the drama of her work evening. Maybe her story excited her because she recounted someone else's upheaval.
She said, "I was ready to leave the reception, but the night manager was overdue. So I stayed on duty for an extra forty minutes before the hostel phone rang. It was my boss, and he apologised for his lateness — a partner tiff."
Ruby flexed her legs from her thighs to her toes.
"He said he needed to sort it out, so could I please stay at the reception desk? He begged me desperately."
Hands to her cheeks in fake shock, she said, "And later, he walked in, arm in arm, with his boyfriend!"
Ruby yawned.
I thought she was exhausted.
She needs her beauty sleep.
Ruby flopped her cheek on a balled-up fist, her elbow on the sofa arm.
I recall a pause, a lull, a silence — held by its strangeness.
Ruby was still— a rare Ruby placidness — which did not last.
She intently stared at me—as me —then as a male.
I liked the initial look; I desired it to hold.
It made me involuntarily swallow and momentarily close my eyes—rapid heartbeats like a drum within my chest.
I passed on investigating the first and responded to the second. I reached out and seized her free hand resting on the couch cushion. I guided her down to the shaggy, red apartment rug.
Ruby's excitement heightened because I initiated the move. She signified anticipation as her fingers skated over my lips. I had no idea where I was leading us. She tossed her head back as I released her slim belt buckle.
Sliding the zip on her jeans released a cushy purr as her lips expanded to an O-shaped surprise.
My thumb grazed the curve of her nape before my hand opened and fetched her face to mine. The wine residue in her mouth reminded me of sweet and tart mulberries as we kissed.
Eager, free-ranging hands joined a rapid slosh of tongues. Removing her navy sweater was the sole temporary interruption. Ruby's fingers, in a burst, opened my shirt buttons as I unclasped her black bra. In a flurry of legs, we yanked down each other's jeans.
She hurled mine beyond my shoulder, Ruby style; I did the same with hers.
The pixie's black knickers and my white boxer shorts followed suit. I knew nothing delayed Ruby when she pursued skin paired.
Yet she hovered above me and let my fingers slowly circle and massage her tempting breasts. Strangely submissive compared to all our previous encounters. Strands of her chocolate hair fell across her face.
I lifted cupped hands and carefully swept my fingers from her cheeks to behind her ears. Her brow knitted, and her eyes searched mine askance.
She craves pace, not romance.
Take her where?
I answered my question: To an orgasm.
Yet I sought the tender Ruby. The waif nymph of the sofa stillness — the young woman who enjoyed her breasts being gently pampered.
Supporting her hip, I chose urgency and guided her below me on the rug. Ruby's tongue clicked tsk twice as I eased her to missionary. Instantly, she bent her legs for traction, soliciting grind.
I promptly acknowledged my choice of position as a blunder with a lusty-spirited girl.
In my quest to connect to Ruby's essence hiding beneath her alluring youthful skin, I went missionary position for myself.
Difficult to sum in words, I sought her lighter and deeper side; I suppose her soul, the combination in my head, summed up as Rubes.
My position on the rug failed to fulfil the pixie's randy hankers. My breathing quickened in a frantic decision. I grabbed her waist and intentionally bent her as I stood. She could see her sex and my full maleness entering her.
Ruby squealed in pleasure and slapped my thigh.
My thighs flinched, and I judged myself framed inside a porn scene.
The pixie consumed our joining by writhing her lower body. My thrusts continued strident, and Ruby welcomed each pump, moaning.
When I massaged her clit she clutched my ankles, enjoying the novelty of an untried position.
Her body bowed, elevated in an imperative lift by me. We sustained the wild for minutes 'til Ruby gave a shattering orgasmic cry.
A shrill trill that resonated in the lounge - so piercing it disturbed the neighbours above us.
As we collapsed on the rug, we heard heavy footsteps overhead.
Ruby eyed the ceiling before cocking her elfen face at me.
As she fluttered her lashes, she gloated, "Whoops! I've woken Giscard and his whale!"