“Sixth,” she said with a smirk. “You can come up or we can just have a quickie right here on the stairs. Up to you. I do have to warn you, screwing on these stairs will get your expensive coat dirty, so…”
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not until she smiled and held out a gloved hand. I joined her at the door and took her in my arms and kissed her again. She kissed me back hard, shoving her hot tongue in my mouth and pressing her body into mine.
“Now, unless you are too old and out of shape to climb stairs…”
I grinned and took her hand. “You just try to keep up.”
We bolted up the first couple of flights, then the alcohol kicked in and we both slowed down. I wasn’t kidding. I did run marathons, but climbing six flights of stairs in the middle of winter when you’re freezing and drunk was proving to be a chore.
“You okay?” she asked with a smile.
“Yes, just a little drunk,” I said, trying to breathe.
Molly grinned at me and unbuttoned her coat.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyebrows arching.
“Giving you a little incentive,” she said with a devious grin.
She opened her coat and lifted the bottom of her sweater to show me her beautiful tits. She was wearing a sheer, black lacy bra that was doing its best to hold the large milky melons. The bra snapped in the front. She tweaked the snap with two fingers and her glorious boobs popped free.
Her tits were round and white, with large areolas and pink nipples the size of my little finger tip.
“Just a few more stairs, Brad the banker, and these can be all yours.”
Chapter 6: Katie/Molly
I know, what kind of good Irish Catholic girl flashes her tits at a total stranger in a freezing cold stairwell? This kind, I guess. It was a fun, silly thing to do. The truth was, I was so drunk and horny by that time that I would have had sex right there on the stairs if that was my only option. Funny, he was in great shape and kept talking about running marathons, but Brad quickly discovered there was a big different in running long distances on level ground and climbing six flights of stairs when you’re drunk.
So, I decided he needed a little incentive.
Actually, Molly decided.
She was a fun girl with great tits. What better way to motivate Brad to get his ass up the stairs. So, I opened my coat, pulled up my sweater, unhooked my bra, and set the big girls free.
The look on his face was priceless.
His mouth hung open and his eyes went as wide as saucers.
“Just a few more stairs, Brad the banker, and these can be all yours.”
“What is your apartment number?” he asked, grinning.
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“6-D, last apartment on the right.”
“As in double D,” he said, licking his lips. “Well, Molly the paralegal, try to keep up!’
Brad bolted up the stairs, leaving me standing there with my tits hanging out and nipples rock hard from the cold. I pulled down my sweater without worrying about the bra. With any luck, it would be on the floor in my apartment within the next two minutes anyway.
Brad ran like a man possessed. He made it to the sixth floor well ahead of me. When I pushed through the stairwell door and fell into the hallway, laughing and panting like a whipped dog, he was already standing next to my door. He was leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a smug smile on his face.
“What took you so long?” he asked as I shuffled toward him. I pulled my purse off my arm and dug through it to find my keys.
“You don’t play fair,” I said, shoving my key into the lock. “What kind of gentleman leaves a lady standing in a freezing stairwell with her boobs hanging out?”
His smile made me melt. “The kind of gentleman that will make up for it as soon as this door is unlocked.”