"Please, I'm begging you… Give it to me… I feel so itchy down there… It's so itchy that I'm dying… Sir, please…"

In the dimly-lit stairwell, I can only stare at the flushed cheeks of the beautiful woman who lives next door. That's when I feel my heart beating loudly.

I approach her, hoping to lend her a helping hand. But I'm feeling a little hesitant at the same time.

The next thing I know, she spreads her legs right in front of me all of a sudden.

As I stare at her wet entrance, I can no longer hold myself back…

My name was Toby Jensen. I was 35, and I worked as a mechanic at an auto shop. When I got home that night, all I wanted was some intimacy with my wife, Rebecca Taylor.

However, she kicked me out of the bedroom again, claiming the smell of gasoline on me made her sick.

That made 12 rejections in six months. Staring at the closed door, I let out a heavy sigh.

Restless and unfulfilled, I grabbed my smokes and a lighter and headed out to the stairwell for a puff.

Just as my hand touched the door to the stairwell, I heard a faint, frantic moaning. At first, I thought it was just a cat in heat.

Then, a familiar scent hit me. It was a perfume that immediately made me think of my charming neighbor from next door, Demi Wilson.

Every time I ran into her, that sweet, intoxicating scent always arrived first.

Then came the flash of a red slip dress or perhaps a bodycon dress, with a neckline plunging incredibly low.

I remembered one time in the elevator when she leaned over to pick something up. I caught a glimpse of her cleavage, and I went hard instantly.

If I hadn't bolted out of there, I wouldn't have been able to hide the tent in my pants.

Then, there was her bottom—curvy, firm, and looking like it had a hell of a bounce. Every time I watched her bend over to rub her ankles, I felt the urge to give her a hard smack.

After that, I'd grab her by that tiny waist from behind and just go at it until she was red-eyed and begging for mercy.

Just the fantasy alone was enough to leave me a mess. It was embarrassing.

I guess I'd been in a dry spell for so long that my body was on a hair-trigger. Thinking about Rebecca's constant rejection only made the frustration worse.

I glanced at the door to Unit 602. It was shut tight, and I wondered where Demi was spending her night.

I pushed open the heavy stairwell door, and the motion-sensor light flickered on.

Before I could even step inside, I saw a woman in a red dress leaning against the wall by the stairs.

Demi's face was flushed, her eyes were glazed and wet, and her lips were parted just slightly. One of her hands was hiking up her dress, kneading at her own curves.

My gaze darkened. I swallowed hard and looked down.

The shock hit me like a physical blow. Demi was touching herself!

Her hand was moving rhythmically between her legs. Her breath hitched. Her breathing grew heavier as she picked up the pace.

Seeing it all play out right in front of me set my long-suppressed desires on fire.

My eyes were fixed on the woman lost in her private bliss. The cigarette snapped between my fingers.

I swallowed again and started walking toward Demi.

Before I could get any closer, Demi's eyes snapped open. Startled, I swallowed hard and managed an awkward smile. "Hey, are you okay?"

I knew I should turn around and get out of there immediately, but my feet felt like they were lead.

Somewhere deep down, a flicker of anticipation flared up, though I couldn't quite admit to myself what I was hoping for.

As I approached, Demi slowed her hand, and her moans trailed off into shaky sighs.

Each sound was like a match dropped into a pool of gasoline. I was burning up. My body was so tight and strained that I felt like I might explode.

After a long moment, Demi slowly withdrew her hand from beneath her skirt and looked up at me.

Her eyes were misty and fixed on me with an intoxicating intensity. "Help me. I've been drugged. I can't stand it…"

That explained it. I had wondered why she was losing control in the stairwell when her front door was only a dozen steps away. Even the most desperate person could usually make it that far.

As much as my own lust was peaking, and as much as I had fantasized about Demi, I still had a shred of a moral compass. Taking advantage of a woman in that state wasn't who I was.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve and asked if she needed an ambulance or if I should drive her to the hospital.

Demi shook her head, refusing the hospital.

After a while, she took a ragged breath and spoke softly. "C-Can you just carry me home? I don't have the strength to walk."

"Of course," I said without thinking. Truthfully, I was more than willing.

I turned away for a second to adjust my pants and took a long, steadying breath. Then, I turned back, leaned down, and scooped her up.

The moment I lifted her, her arms instinctively wound around my neck.

I looked down, and those perfect curves I'd been dreaming about were right there, inches from my face.

I took a sharp breath, and in an instant, an indescribable fragrance rushed into my nostrils.

The short walk to her door felt like trekking through fire. Every step was a blur of excitement and agonizing tension.

In the haze, I heard Demi whisper, "Sir, you're burning up."

I licked my dry lips and grunted, "Pretty sure you're the one who's burning. You're rubbing off on me."

Demi let out a faint chuckle and retorted, "No, it's definitely you…"

As she spoke, her hand slipped inside the collar of my shirt.

The door clicked open just then. I carried her inside and closed the door behind us with a heavy thud.

The second I set Demi on the ground, she grabbed the hem of my shirt and started pulling it over my head.

She was so desperate that, for a moment, it felt like our roles had flipped.

Short, heavy gasps echoed through the vast living room, though I couldn't tell if they were hers or mine.

Those same hands that had been busy between Demi's legs were now wandering all over my body.

They were soft, slick, and still slightly damp. Realizing exactly what that moisture was sent a surge of heat through me that incinerated the last of my self-control.

Like a starving wolf, I stripped her dress off in one frantic motion and buried my face against her chest, losing myself in her.

"Um… Ow, ow… Don't bite… They're all yours. No one's taking them from you."

Demi's sharp cry of pain snapped me back to reality. I quickly let go, murmuring an apology.

"No… Don't apologize. Just no teeth. I actually like it rough."

With that, she urged me to keep going, even taking my hand and guiding it downward.

The moment I felt how wet she was, my head started spinning. My body was screaming at me to just go for it.

Then, Rebecca's face flashed through my mind. She was right there, just one wall away, probably asleep.

We'd been married for eight years. Sure, she looked down on me sometimes, complaining that I wasn't successful enough to give her a better life.

However, she'd given me a beautiful daughter, Brie Jensen. Also, thanks to her constant pushing, we were living in a nice neighborhood.

I couldn't betray her. If Rebecca ever found out, she'd divorce me in a heartbeat.

I couldn't throw away my family just to scratch an itch. At that thought, I grabbed Demi's hand just as she reached for my belt.

"I'm sorry. I-I really should take you to the hospital. They'll have something to counteract the drug."

Demi pouted and whispered, "No… No hospital. I want you."

Thinking I was worried about the consequences, she let out a smile and told me I didn't have to worry and that she wouldn't tell a soul.

When she saw me hesitating, she gave a frustrated huff. "Don't tell me you can't get it up!"

She forced her hand free from my grip and, with lightning speed, slid both hands between my thighs.

The moment she seized it, my scalp went tight. Demi let out a series of sharp gasps. I couldn't tell if she was startled or scorched by the heat.

It took her a moment to find her voice. "God, you're so big. So hard and hot…"

I scrambled to catch her hands again, telling her to stop. I didn't want to cheat on Rebecca.

Noticing my resolve, Demi began to sob. She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes and said, "Please, just give it to me. It's tingling so bad. It's killing me. Sir, can you really bear to watch me burn up and die from desire?"

Suddenly, she broke my grip again, grabbed my hand, and shoved it right back between her thighs.