Mortal City 
(MF, cons) 
By Paul Story, PaulStory77@nospamforme.aol.com
http://www.asstr.org/~paulstory
FINAL VERSION, 05/Dec/2003 08:40 

DISCLAIMER: Don't read if you're under eighteen, or if the laws in your very repressive jurisdiction would suggest that you not read smutty stories such as this one. 

Author's note: This story was written for Girl Friday's December 2003 Story Fest, involving stories based on songs. This story is based on the song "Mortal City" by Dar Williams. Complete lyrics can be found at http://www.sing365.com/music/Lyric.nsf/Mortal-City-lyrics-Dar-Williams/1E4E20906FF97B0D4825697B00322754.

Special thanks to Friday for creating the Story Fest, and also for editing this story!

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	She never should have rented this apartment in the Mortal City 
	The cold comes though every crack she puts her hand up to 
	The radiator's broken, so she has to use electric heat. 

I hurried around the apartment, trying to get everything ready. There just wasn’t time, wasn’t time. It was nearly five; he was going to be here at 6:30.

My apartment was a freezing cold mess. The damp December weather seemed to be slithering its way inside, rain pelting a drumbeat against my single-pane windows.

I gathered up clothing, books, paperwork, whatever I could carry from the floor of the tiny studio flat, stuffing into the place’s only closet. Grabbing a broom, I started sweeping frenetically.

“What was I thinking, doing this? I barely know the guy. Then again, I barely know anyone here,” I muttered to myself.

I had moved to the “big city” six months ago to take an entry-level job right out of college. Having lived in a small town and then on a college campus for my whole life, this teeming mass of a city frightened me to death. I hardly left the apartment to do anything but go to work and buy a few bags of groceries.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I wondered again.

	And tonight was the first date with the brother of the guy she worked next to 
	He lived a couple streets away 
	He listened, he had things to say 
	She asked him up for dinner sometime 
	Sometime was tonight 

Jim worked in the cubicle next to mine in the accounting department at Huston & Waters. Nice guy. Married, two kids, pictures proudly displayed on his desk like works of art by the old masters.

I got friendly with him the first month or so that I worked there. Partly to have someone to talk to in cubicle hell, and partly because he was married, so I knew he was “safe,” so to speak.

After we got to know each other, Jim had started to tell me about his “baby brother” Matt. “You’d like him, Lanie. He’s about your age, smart as a whip. When he was in grade school, we were sure he was going to be a rocket scientist or the president or something.”

“So what does he do?” I had asked.

Jim frowned. “He’s a carpenter. Does repair work for some of the mid-sized landlords in town. Gets free rent at one of the buildings out of it. I try and tell him that he’s wasting his talents, but he says it makes him happy. He likes working with his hands.”

Finally, I had agreed to meet Matt. He came to lunch with Jim and me one October afternoon.

I instantly liked him. He was sweet, funny, and his relationship with Jim was cute. You could tell Jim was trying so hard to be the “older brother,” trying so hard to steer Matt’s life for him. Problem was, Matt wasn’t listening to any of it. We shared a couple of secret smiles as Jim went on and on about Matt’s “potential” and how he was wasting it.

Over the next couple months, Matt and I talked on the phone regularly, but Matt never asked me out. Frustrated, I’d screwed up my courage last week and asked him over for dinner.

And here we are, I thought to myself, sweeping the last of the dust, hair and other detritus into a dustpan. As I packed the cleaning equipment away in the closet, the apartment at least looked presentable. It was the best I could do at this point.

After taking a quick shower and dressing in a simple pair of khaki pants and a blue sweater, I started on dinner. Nothing fancy, just pasta with my mom’s homemade marinara sauce, and a Caesar salad I’d picked up from the corner deli.

The rain outside seemed to be hitting the window harder; it sounded like pebbles hitting the glass. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realized those were pieces of ice hitting the window. I turned on the radio to find out what was going on.

	The radio gave updates on the ice storm while she made the dinner 
	They said, from all the talk, you shouldn't drive or even walk 
	And this just in – We're asking everyone to turn off their power 
	They need it at the hospital. 

Several citywide generators had failed, according to the news reports, and there was a danger of brownouts or blackouts at some of the local hospitals.

“Shit,” I said, turning off my lights and, unfortunately, the furnace too. Sure, we’d be cold, but how could that compare to someone’s life being in danger?

The streetlight outside my kitchen window gave me enough light to see my way around, and I lit a few candles, placing them around the apartment – but nowhere near my gas stove, where the tomato sauce kept bubbling contently. The candles gave a cozy feel to the whole place and would keep Matt from seeing any leftover mess, right?

As the radio DJs droned on and on about the storm, and what roads and bridges were closed, I started to think maybe Matt and I should cancel on tonight. The blaring of horns outside my window made me realize that traffic wasn’t going anywhere, so I called him to see if we should just postpone our date.

	She ran around pulling plugs, then she called him up 
	Maybe now they shouldn't meet, he said that he would brave the streets 
	She met him at the door with a blanket and a candle
	Saying, I heard it on the radio, I had to turn my power off. 

	He said you're not the only one, the streets were dark tonight, 
	It was like another century
	With dim lamps and candles lighting up the icy trees and the clouds and a covered moon. 

Matt kicked off his icy boots and left them in the hallway outside my apartment. I handed him a blanket and then, despite the dimness, gave him the grand tour.

The place was nothing more than a single large room, my bed – made for once – pushed up against the far wall. A rickety dining table with three chairs, inherited from my junior-year roommate, was the only other major piece of furniture. The galley kitchen occupied one corner of the space, the tiny green-and-white bathroom next to it.

“Not exactly Buckingham Palace,” I said nervously.

“No, but the rent’s probably close,” Matt said. His grin was adorable and made my stomach flip.

“You should see the place that Waters Realty gives me,” he said. “They only give it to me because they couldn’t rent it to anyone else. Slanted floors, dripping sinks, and a window that faces a brick wall.”

I offered him a glass of wine and to my relief, he accepted, which meant I could have one. I figured the wine would help settle my nerves a bit, and maybe even warm me up.

I gave him the blanket I’d been using, and pulled one of my grandmother’s afghans off my bed to wrap around my shoulders. Matt graciously agreed to help me set the table and soon enough we were sitting down to eat.

Nearly everyone in this city had made me feel nervous, feel on edge. They weren’t as warm and friendly here as I was used to, and I felt like I had to keep my guard up all the time. But Matt wasn’t like that, and I felt myself opening up to him, telling him how much I hated it here.

	She said what kind of people make a city 
	Where you can't see the sky and you can't feel the ground? 

	I tell you something, I have this feeling that this city's dying 
	He said, it's not dying it's the people who are dying 
	She said, yes yes I think the people are dying and nobody cares. 

	We had all this technology our dreams were bold and vague 
	And then one city got bad planners, one city got the plague. 

I was stunned. He got it, he got me. When I said the city was dying, he didn’t laugh at me. He said it seemed like the people were walking around, already dead. I must have stared at him in stunned silence for two entire minutes.

He. Got. It.

Matt continued, telling me about how he was frightened of this city, just like I was, when his family moved here.

“I was thirteen, just about to start the ninth grade,” he said. “My dad got transferred, and we left a small town in Iowa to come here. Can you imagine? The tallest buildings I had ever seen in my life were grain silos, and now we were living amongst these concrete and steel giants.”

I smiled, picturing Matt as a gawky teenager, his brown eyes staring up at the city’s skyscrapers.

	He asked why did you move here? She said, for the job 
	For the job and I've been so lonely here, so lonely 
	There's no one I can talk to, you know I don't even know your brother. 

I felt my throat tighten as I kept talking to Matt, telling him how it was hard for me to make friends, and in this city it seemed impossible. I told him about my freshman year at college, about how I hardly left my dorm room until my suitemates forced me to. 

A single tear ran down my cheek as I told him how the cycle was starting again; I was barely leaving this frigid, tiny apartment.

Matt reached over and gently, so gently, brushed the tear aside with the back of his finger. I felt a shiver run down the back of my neck from his touch.

	He smiled and said, sometimes at night I walk out by the river 
	The city's one big town, the water turns it upside down 
	people found this city because they love other people 
	They want their secretaries, they want their power lunches. 

	And think about tonight, I heard the same newscast you did 
	I unplugged everything, I looked out the window 
	And I think the city heard, I watched as one by one the lights went off 
	So they could give their power to the hospital 

He was right, I realized with a start. When I had looked out the window after turning my lights off, nearly my entire block, as far as I could see, was dark. People had heard the radio and TV reports; but even more importantly, people had listened to them, done what they were supposed to do.

	They ate in silence while she thought this over, 
	They sat together in a dark room in the Mortal City 
	Shifting in their blankets so they wouldn't get spaghetti on them. 

After we finished eating, I poured each of us another glass of wine and Matt helped me do the dishes.

“My compliments to you and your mother,” he said. “Dinner was fabulous.”

“Thanks,” I said, wondering what to do next, as the streaking ice continued to slam against my windows.

	Then came the awkward moment after dinner, what to do, 
	The ice was still falling, the streets were still dangerous 
	The cabs were not running and this neighborhood was not the greatest. 

	They both looked at the space where a couch would've been 
	She felt her stomach sink, she felt like she could hardly think 

What do you do on a date when you can’t watch TV, can’t use electricity, can’t leave the apartment? There was only one answer, and I blushed when I glanced at the bed. Although I wasn’t a virgin, I didn’t have sex on the first date, either.

Matt must have seen me blush. Noble fellow, he saved me from my predicament with a novel suggestion.

“Melanie. Come on, I don’t sleep around on first dates, and I don’t expect that you do either,” he said. “But I like you. I don’t want this evening to end. What if we just talk and sleep – and I mean sleep, nothing else – in your bed tonight?” 

Now he was the one blushing.

I surprised even myself with the answer: “Okay.”

	That settled it, they would both sleep in her bed 
	It was a matter of survival. 

	She brought out T-shirts, sweatshirts, sweatpants, socks, hats 
	If there was ever any thought of what would happen in that bed tonight 
	There was no question now 
	They could barely move 
	They were wrapped up like ornaments waiting for another season. 

We took turns changing clothes in the bathroom. Matt looked so damn cute in my Wellesley College sweatshirt and a winter hat. We crammed into my tiny twin bed, on our backs, wrapped in blankets. I could feel the heat from his body, pressed against me from shoulder to knee, and I liked it.

“I really didn’t expect to sleep in your bed tonight,” Matt said. “Honestly.”

“I know,” I answered him. “Don’t worry, you’ve been a perfect gentleman.” 'Unfortunately', I thought to myself. His warm, strong body in my bed, next to me, was making me feel a bit “squirmy.”

	They lay in bed, they listened to the pelting ice 
	He said my brother's not a bad guy, he's just quiet 
	I wished you liked this city 
	She said, maybe I do. 

I couldn’t believe I said it. But amazingly, one night with Matt was making me think about staying here.

Before tonight, I had been scouring the Internet for job possibilities, trying to find some way to get out of this crazy metropolis. Now, one night with this wonderful, sweet man was making me rethink my whole opinion.

My last line, “maybe I do,” hung in the air for a long time. Eventually, I heard Matt whisper, “Goodnight, Lanie,” and he kissed me, softly on the cheek.

The touch of his lips thrilled my entire body. “Goodnight, Matt,” I whispered. His body was a warm, strong, comforting presence next to mine, and that’s the last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep.

Next thing I knew, I was awake, with an uncomfortable feeling in my bladder telling me I had to get out of my warm cocoon. I gingerly extracted myself from the bed, trying not to disturb Matt. As I padded to the bathroom in sock feet, I glanced at my watch: 2:36 AM.

After finishing in the bathroom, I slipped into the kitchen, to peer out of the small window over the sink. The freezing rain had stopped, and the full moon was visible between my building and the next one over. Cars were moving on the street below, and I could see a few lights on up and down the block.

Sleepily, I walked back over to the bed. Matt was asleep on his back, breathing softly. I admired him, his blond hair tousled and messy on top of his head. He must have gotten too warm during the night, for the blanket was pushed down to his waist.

The sweatshirt I had lent to him, oversized on me, fit him snugly, and had ridden up over his stomach while he slept. By the gauzy light filtering in from the streetlights outside, I could see his firm, muscled stomach, and a line of fine hairs trailing off beneath the waistband of his pants.

I felt a tingle between my legs as I thought about where that “happy trail” led, and my hand unconsciously dropped to my crotch. I rubbed myself gently, just a few strokes, wondering what Matt would be like as a lover.

Pulling my hand away, I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and eased myself back into bed next to Matt, the bed still noticeably warmer than the outside air.

I guess I wasn’t as quiet about it as I could have been, for just as my head settled back down onto the pillow, Matt stirred. He rolled over onto his side, one arm coming across my body, landing directly on top of my chest!!

Even through three layers of clothing, I felt it. Oh boy, did I feel it. Through two t-shirts and a heavy sweater, I could feel my nipples straining up through the fabric, pressing against the warmth of Matt’s arms.

I could feel his warm breath on the side of my face. When Matt shifted again in his sleep, moving his arm against my erect nipples, I couldn’t help it and I moaned softly.

Even though I was on my back and not looking at his face, I knew his eyes had just snapped open.

“Lanie,” he said sleepily. “What – what time is – oh my, I’m sorry,” he said, realizing where his arm was and starting to pull it away.

Again, the friction across my chest felt incredible, and I grabbed his arm with both hands. “Don’t be sorry,” I said, turning to face him. “And you don’t have to take your arm away.”

He gazed at me, his chocolate brown eyes becoming more alert and awake by the second. Below the sheets, pressed against my leg, I could feel something else becoming more alert as well.

“Lanie?” he said. “Are you….sure?”

I didn’t answer him, just closed my eyes and kissed him square on the lips, rolling onto my side to press my body against his. Matt wrapped his arm around me, the palm of his hand pressing against my upper back. Our tongues snaked together, tasting, touching, thrilling, and I felt Matt’s warm cock press against my thigh.

Our kiss got deeper and sloppier as my mind raced. What was I doing? 'I barely know this guy,' I thought to myself, my head swirling with a rush of hormone-laden emotions, as Matt and I continued to kiss like teenagers.

Why I was acting like a slut, ready to have sex with a guy on the first date, I wondered to myself.

Just as that thought raced through my brain, Matt pulled his lips away from mine with an audible pop. “Lanie, wait, hold on a second, stop,” he said, and my heart sank into my toes.

He gazed at me, his eyes glittering with emotion. “Lanie, I – I want to make love to you so badly right now I can’t stand it,” he said, and I felt a little better. “But I want you to know something – I’m not the kind of guy who fucks around,” he said, his cheeks reddening.

“When I make love it has to mean something,” Matt said. “So I guess I need to know, are you ready for you and I to start…something?” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly on the final syllable.

My grin nearly split my face in two, and his grin must have been a reflection of my own. “Yes,” I shrieked.

Matt kissed me, just kissed me, for longer than anyone else had in my entire life. We must have made out for fifteen minutes, his hands roaming over my back, on top of my three layers of clothing, going no further. I was desperate for more, and I pressed my crotch against his hardness, rotating firmly. Matt groaned into my mouth as I felt my panties get wetter and hotter.

Pushing the blankets off us, Matt pulled us to a sitting position and stripped off the three layers of clothing covering my torso in one fell swoop. My nipples crinkled and hardened even further in the cold air, becoming as erect as they could get.

I thought.

Until Matt put his hot, wet lips around one of them.

“Aaaagghhh Matt,” I said, clutching his head to my chest and arching my back. I felt my pussy flutter and throb as he alternated between my nipples, using his lips on one and his finger and thumb on the other. His calloused hands were so gentle and deft, I felt like he was touching me everywhere at once.

He suckled and nibbled at my breasts, using his hands to massage my chest and stomach, teasing me with his gentle touch, causing me to giggle when he slipped a fingertip inside my navel.

When his fingers drifted lower, I stopped giggling and moaned. “Yes, Matt, oh god yes.”

Flattening his palm against my belly, he slipped his fingers inside the waistband of my sweatpants, inside my panties. Pushing lower, his fingers passed over my sparse mound and I arched my hips to feel more of his touch.

Silently, he placed one hand between my breasts and eased me back down onto the bed. He leaned down next to me on his side, his hand pushing lower, insistently into my sopping wet panties.

“Eeeeeee!” I nearly jumped out of the bed when his fingertips brushed across my clit. He began massaging my pussy in slow circles, brushing my throbbing clit on every third or fourth pass, lips still fastened to my nipple.

My hips were thrusting off the bed harder now, trying to increase the pressure on my pussy. I was aching to cum.

“Matt…I need to…oh god Matt, so good,” I babbled.

“Shhh, Lanie. I know what you need, believe me,” he said, continuing with his slow, slow, agonizingly slow circles on my pussy.

I pushed awkwardly at the waistband of my sweats. “Matt, take these damn things off me, please!!”

He chuckled, and pulled my pants and underwear off, leaving me naked except for a pair of wool socks. “God Lanie, you’re beautiful,” he said breathily, returning his hand to my crotch.

I spread my legs wider for him, obscenely wide, throwing one leg over his own as he settled back down next to me. He was rubbing my clit a little harder now, and then I felt a fingertip at the entrance to my pussy. I could feel his warm cock pressed against the chilled flesh of my butt.

“Yessssss,” I hissed as I felt his finger thrust into me, slowly, oh god so agonizingly slowly. It felt like it was sliding into me a millimeter at a time.

Matt settled into a rhythm, thrusting his finger in and out of me, his thumb barely grazing over my clit. I had been on the edge of an orgasm for what seemed like hours now, right at the precipice of the cliff, ready to leap over.

And then he pushed me over. Simultaneously, Matt moved his thumb, hard, across my clit and moved his lips back onto my own, his tongue thrusting firmly into my mouth. His cock was a steel rod inside his sweats, pressed against my ass cheek.

“Mmm...mhmmhmhm…” I said, as Matt’s thumb moved furiously across my clit, my hips humping hard against his hand, his cock thrusting hard against me

“Mmmm…mmmm...MMMMMMM!!!” I said, and Matt pulled his lips away from mine as my climax crashed over me.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Matttttttt!” I shrieked, loud enough for six city blocks to hear me. “Ohhhhh ohoohhhhhhhh!!” I said, exhaling forcefully as my orgasm crashed over me. Dimly, I was aware of Matt’s cock pulsing hotly against my ass.

I stayed there, sweaty and damp, staring at the ceiling for – I don’t even know how long it was. Matt’s hand was still nestled in my crotch, his head heavy on my shoulder.

Just as I was starting to shiver, remembering exactly how cold my apartment was, Matt spoke up. “Wow,” he said.

“My thoughts exactly,” I said, turning to look at him. “That was – god Matt, that was amazing,” I said. “Did you um – you know?” I asked, glancing downwards.

His face reddened. “Uh, yeah. I think you’re going to need to wash these sweats. Sorry about that.”

I grinned. “Not a problem. But you think next time, maybe you could make that kind of mess in a more appropriate place?”

He grinned back at me. “Any suggestions?”

“I’ve got a couple, as a matter of fact. And I need something to warm me up,” I said, kissing him. As we kissed, I felt his cock stirring against my hip again, and I reached down to fondle him through his sweats. His hand gently toyed with my pussy again and I felt myself throbbing.

“God, yes,” Matt groaned, as his cock grew in my hand. I stroked him, gently at first, then harder, until I felt him tenting out the front of the sweats.

“Take those things off and make love to me, Matt,” I pleaded.

Rising up off the bed, Matt pulled his clothes off and tossed them to the floor. I gently guided him on top of me,. He slid between my legs, aiming his rigid shaft at my pussy. I bent my knees to give him better access; when I felt the tip of his cock start to spread me open, I gasped.

Matt stopped immediately. “Lanie?”

“Matt, no, don’t stop, just go slow. I think you’re bigger than anyone I’ve had since ... well, since ever,” I said, laughing.

“Okay,” he chuckled, easing forward a bit. It felt like he was going to split me in two as his thick cock spread me open.

Suddenly, he stopped again. “Um, Lanie – bad time to ask this, but are you safe?”

“Uh huh,” I said, nodding. “My period starts in two days. Like clockwork,” I said, breathing heavily.

Once the tip slipped inside me I was able to exhale again, and I looked at Matt and nodded. He pushed in further, and that’s when all the last bits of discomfort faded away. 

“Oh god Matt, it’s incredible,” I said. It felt like his cock was red-hot lava spilling into my icy cold pussy. The heat emanating from him, from inside me, was amazing. I think my eyes may have actually rolled back into my head.

Matt pushed his cock further and further inside of me, until I felt his hips against my own, his testicles resting against my ass cheeks. He then slid nearly all the way out, and then back in again, over and over.

“Yes yes yes yes Matt,” I said. I was babbling again, but didn’t care. He settled into a steady rhythm, sliding in and out of me, his balls slapping against me with each stroke. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his ass, forcing his cock got even deeper inside me. Matt alternated long, slow strokes with short fast ones, until he had me at the edge of that cliff again in no time.

“Ohh, yes,” I said, my orgasm building. Sweat poured down the sides of my face, off my breasts, off my ass, cooling quickly in the frigid apartment air. The rest of my body was irrelevant. I was boiling hot at my center, my pussy on fire as Matt plunged what felt like Vulcan’s own spear in and out of me.

“Lanie…oh…oh god Lanie….I’m gonna…oh Lanie,” Matt whispered in my ear. I felt his cock pulse and lengthen inside me, and it triggered my own climax. I felt my belly clench and contract as my pussy throbbed with release. I could feel Matt’s white hot semen splash against my insides as he moaned my name, over and over and over.

We slept like that the rest of the night, his cock still hard and buried inside me, his body covering mine like a blanket.

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Our first child was conceived that night, five years ago. Yeah, I thought I was “safe,” but the goddess of fertility can be fickle, I suppose. It’s ironic – first time I’d gotten laid in over a year, I get pregnant!!

It caused a minor scandal, particularly in my conservative family. But once they saw how much Matt and I loved each other, they got over it.

I must have looked like a beached whale in my maternity dress at our wedding. Three months later, Samantha was born. Two years after that, we started working on a little brother for her.

It was at that point, when I was pregnant with Mikey, that we decided to leave the city. We moved to a small town three hours away, and Matt started his own carpentry business. You know the kind – “One Guy and a Toolbox” signs on telephone poles, that sort of thing.

His company’s more than one man now, having hired three guys to help. They often have more work than they can handle and he needs to hire a fourth.

I keep the books and pay the bills for his company, which lets me stay home in our beautiful – and well-insulated – house with the kids. I don’t miss cubicle hell for a second.

We still go back to the city every month or so, to visit Matt’s brother, Jim, and his family. It doesn’t scare me so much any more.

In fact, we always make sure to drive by my old apartment building. We don’t even talk about it; we just do it, no matter which one of us is driving. 

Silently, we remember that one cold, dark, icy night when we first kept each other warm.



