A flight of stairs

 Victor saw Jeanne for the first time the day he moved into the rented flat, and since then no woman could surpass his ideal, who lived one floor above. Six months had passed since then, and his feelings for his neighbour were growing stronger and stronger. The logistics manager of a medium-sized company realised that such women are given to strong and wealthy men. Indeed, her husband was such a man. The woman's respect for her spouse was genuine, and pride unconcealed, and this drew on her beautiful aristocratic face features of contempt for all others. 

With this expression on her face she often went down with Victor in the lift without uttering a word during the whole journey. He would always let her pass in front of the exit and follow, savouring the scent of her perfume trail. 

One morning, when he was hungover and his mind and will were overwhelmed and unable to control his body, he did something he could only dare to do in his fantasies. Descending in the lift with Jeanne from the sixteenth floor, staring at the button panel, he suddenly turned to the woman and fell to his knees in front of her. 

- Your image is killing my mind," he whispered, "I am powerless to control myself, forgive me. 

Of course, considering that he and Jeanne had only exchanged a few sentences before this very incident, he had given her a slight shock by his action. But the woman didn't show it, at least her body didn't flinch or jerk back. She was thirty-seven (seven years older than Victor), and she'd seen a lot of things over the years, so she was more surprised by the suddenness of this behaviour than by it. The woman looked into his haggard eyes and uttered: 

- What do you want from me? 

Victor lowered his head and stared at her toes in her open shoes. The nails were perfectly even and had a mirror dark red colour. 

- Do you realise what my husband will do to you for this? - She continued, but she didn't tell him to get up, as if she were burdening him with guilt. 

The whole descent took about twenty-five seconds, but for Vitya the time flew by several times faster. After her last words there was silence in the lift, as if Jeanne was waiting for an answer. Then she said in a calm tone: 

- We've arrived. I understand everything. Be on the staircase between the top floor and the attic floor tonight at seven o'clock sharp. No earlier, no later.

He got up from his knees, a second later the lift opened and she stepped out. The man followed her out, walked to the doorway, stood by it for a few seconds and went back into his flat. Like a stunned man he paced from wall to wall in his room. It was two o'clock in the afternoon. The appointed time approached endlessly. 

By seven p.m. he was at the designated place. Jeanne was not a minute late. They stood opposite each other. For several moments, without saying a word, she burned her gaze into his face, watching the man's cheeks turn crimson. Finally her voice, mixed with the light echo of the driveway, broke the silence. The man, swallowing saliva, caught every word: 

- You don't have to tell me your erotic fantasies about me. I'm not interested in it and anyway, all you can give me I don't need. You can only realise your fantasies sitting on the toilet with your cock in your hand. But I can give you the ground to permanently fix my image in your mind. You see, the only thing I can be interested in about you is your tongue sliding up my anus. Once we've met, there's no turning back. As a married woman, it's very risky for me to seek such liaisons, so I won't let you go. You won't leave of your own free will either. You shouldn't have played the romantic in the lift. 

Saying this, Jeanne suspected that he liked her words, but did not guess that much. The woman continued: 

- 'We'll meet only here, and only at seven in the evening. No phone arrangements, no texting or anything like that. Come here every day at this time. Wait for me no more than ten minutes, if I don't come, I can't. Do you understand? 

- Yes," said Vitya. 

The woman looked at her watch and continued: 

- So, let's begin! You have twenty minutes to prove to me that I came here for a reason, - said Jeanne, turning her face to the corner of the wall. 

She put her hands on the wall and bent her back a little, thereby showing off her arse. The man knelt down and pulled up Jeanne's skirt. The curve of her back allowed the skirt to be fixed so that it would not fall back down. The woman was also wearing sleeping trousers. Pulling them down, Vitya saw no panties. Only a slight vapour from her crotch touched his lips. The man's excitement was off the charts, it was all he needed.

He kissed her buttocks, moving to a tentative point. He spread her buttocks apart with his hands, and his mouth literally dug into her anus. The woman sagged even more - a wave of pleasure went through her body. Her neighbour's wet tongue slid dashingly over the place her husband's tongue had never touched. She didn't want to ask her husband to do this, but always in the depths of her most hidden desires she had dreamed of finding someone who would do it for her. And now he had found himself. Jeanne's thought materialised. 

Victor fulfilled his task within the allotted time. During these twenty minutes, he repeatedly went down with his tongue a little lower, glimpsing her labia, but immediately his head was returned to its place by Jeanne's hand. She then rested her hand on the wall again. It was clear that she wanted exclusively what he was doing now. 

When the time was up, the woman turned to the still kneeling Victor, giving him hope for a moment that she wanted to change her pose, and carelessly pushed his head away with the palm of her hand. Pulled up her sleeping trousers and lowered her skirt. 

- Afoot to his floor. He entered the flat, took off his trousers and pants, sat down in a chair and started jerking off. A few movements were enough, and the man trembled in spasms of the strongest orgasm of his life. The understanding that he was not interesting for Jeanne as a man, as a person, that she needed only his tongue, his mouth, brought the orgasm as quickly as possible, decorating it with deep colours. 

A month had passed since that moment. Victor always appeared at the appointed time at the meeting place. For the sake of it he even had to postpone some work matters. But Jeanne did not always come. Thus, there were twenty real meetings. During all the meetings they did not speak a word. Everything went strictly according to the same script. Sometimes their so-called communication lasted about forty minutes, and sometimes Zhanna stopped it after ten minutes. Victor always masturbated after their meeting. Several times a night. The next day the thirst for a new meeting consumed him all day long. He couldn't understand how it was that he felt the strongest dependence on these meetings. On the one hand he wanted it, on the other hand he was afraid of it, because he felt that he would never be able to cope with this dependence. He could not possess Jeanne as a man, so he never lost his wild attraction to her for a moment. 

Now that such a relationship had developed between them, Zhanna forbade him not only to talk to her during their meetings, but also to say hello to her when they happened to see each other in the entrance.

ll future encounters would be mute. I think any dialogue between us is unnecessary," she said and moved down the stairs. 

Victor rose from his knees. The strong erection would not subside. He moved on