Above the City

The August air on the rooftop was thick with heat and the distant rumble of traffic. I was tightening a bolt on Marcus’s old generator when I heard her sandals click on the concrete. Lena. She was leaning against the railing, a glass of iced tea in her hand, her sundress a thin yellow thing that clung to her hips.

“You’re getting grease on your forehead,” she said, her voice a low purr.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, probably making it worse. “Marcus said it was making a weird noise.”

“Marcus is at his brother’s place for the weekend.” She held out the glass. “So you’re my guest. And my repairman.”

Her eyes held mine. She didn’t look away. The city hummed below us, a million lives going on, and here we were, two people pretending this was just about a generator.

“You’re not drinking,” she said, stepping closer.

“I’m working.”

“You’re sweating.” She ran a finger down my forearm, tracing a line of dust and oil. “You should take a break.”

The glass was cold. Her fingers brushed mine. The air between us felt like it was going to crack.

“A break,” I repeated.

“Mmhm.” She set the glass down on the generator’s metal casing, the ice clinking. “You know what I’ve been thinking about all week? While you were down here, fixing things, your back all tense…” She bit her lip. “I kept imagining you bending me over that workbench.”

My cock was already half-hard. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Lena…”

“Don’t ‘Lena’ me. I’m not a saint.” She stepped into me, her hand sliding down to the front of my jeans. She felt me through the denim, a slow, deliberate squeeze. “And you’re not exactly hiding it.”

I grabbed her wrist, not to stop her, just to feel her pulse racing against my thumb. “Your husband’s a friend of mine.”

“And I’m a grown woman who hasn’t been touched in months.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t make me beg, Jake.”

That was it. I pulled her into me, my mouth crashing onto hers. She tasted like mint and something sweet. Her hands were in my hair, pulling, and I could feel her body pressing against mine, the thin cotton of her dress doing nothing to hide the heat of her skin.

I turned her around, pushing her against the wooden railing that looked out over the whole city. The sky was turning a bruised purple and orange. I hiked her dress up to her waist. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Her bare ass was smooth, a perfect curve, and I could see the glistening wetness between her thighs.

“You planned this,” I breathed, my hands gripping her hips.

“I hoped,” she corrected, pushing her ass back against me. “Now stop talking.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I unzipped my jeans and freed my cock, the head already slick with pre-cum. I guided it to her entrance, teasing her, running the tip up and down her slit. She let out a low moan and pushed back, trying to take me in.

“Please,” she gasped.

I slammed into her in one go. She cried out, a sharp, happy sound that was swallowed by the wind. Her pussy was so wet, so hot, gripping me like a fist. I started to move, slow, deep strokes that made her back arch and her fingers claw at the railing.

“God, yes,” she panted. “That’s it. Fuck me.”

I reached around and found her clit, a slippery little pearl. I rubbed it in circles as I pumped into her from behind. She was trembling, her whole body shaking with each thrust. The city lights were starting to bloom below us, a million tiny stars, and I was buried deep inside my neighbor’s wife.

“You feel that?” I grunted, my pace quickening. “Feel how deep I am?”

“Yes! Don’t stop. Right there.”

I pulled out, just to the tip, and she whimpered. Then I slammed back in, harder this time. The railing rattled. Her moans were getting louder, more desperate. I slapped her ass, a sharp crack that echoed in the evening air. She gasped and pushed back harder, taking me deeper.

“I’m close,” she begged. “Don’t you dare pull out.”

I was losing it. The sight of her bent over, her dress bunched around her waist, the city spread out behind her, was too much. I drove into her with everything I had, my balls slapping against her wet skin. She came with a scream, her pussy clamping down on me, her whole body convulsing. That was it. I buried my face in her neck and came, a hot, thick flood that filled her, my cock twitching with every pulse.

We stayed like that for a long moment, our breathing ragged, her body leaning against mine. She turned her head and gave me a slow, sleepy kiss.

“You fixed the generator?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

I laughed, a shaky sound. “I think I broke something else.”

She smiled, a wicked, satisfied smile. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

The next morning, I was on the stairs, coffee in hand, heading up to check if the generator was still running. Lena was on the landing, her hair in a messy bun, wearing a loose t-shirt that was definitely mine. She smiled, a small, secret smile, and held out a wrench.

“I think you forgot this,” she said, her eyes flicking down to my lips.

“Keep it,” I said. “I might need it again.”

She bit her lip and walked past me, her hand brushing my ass as she went. Downstairs, Marcus’s truck rumbled into the driveway. He honked, waved, and I waved back, the taste of his wife still on my tongue and the smell of her still on my skin. The city shimmered in the morning haze, and I had a feeling the generator was going to break a lot more often.