One Step from Heaven

Mrs. Johnson raised her eyes to look directly into his. Caught in his rumination, George felt himself blushing from his collar bones to his hairline. He was sure she had read his mind. She knew he'd been thinking about her and sex. In the same sentence. At the same time. And yet he couldn't even bring himself to imagine her naked, so how could there be any sex involved? Hell, he didn't want to imagine her naked. In fact, he didn't want to imagine Leilani naked either, because then his dick would take over and lead the way again just as he was getting it calmed down. He tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry to work right. He remembered the water bottle in his left hand and thanked God for small favors. Breaking eye contact, he lifted the bottle, twisted the cap, and guzzled half the contents before coming up for air. When he lowered his head and looked at the two women again, they seemed to be exchanging secret smiles. The cold water felt good in his throat and down into his stomach. His face still burned but it was getting better. A hidden annunciator chimed, the indicator light showed '20,' and the elevator slowed again. George almost dropped the water bottle as his weight shifted upward. Leilani raised her eyebrows.

"Fast elevator," George commented. Her smile widened a little.

"Is that okay?" she asked.

"I'm used to slower rides," he said. She seemed almost on the verge of laughter.

"You'll find that this tends to be a no-nonsense kind of building," she said. "The owners and residents like to go directly to the point and get things done. Isn't that right Mrs. Johnson?"

"Absolutely," the older woman confirmed. "We don't have time to mess around, until it's time to mess around. And then we do that without wasting any time about it also."

Mystified, maybe a little intrigued, mostly just confused, George followed Leilani off the elevator on the twentieth floor and into a well lit, plushly carpeted hallway. He noticed the color scheme here was plum as opposed to the green of the lobby, but the combination of various shades and indirect lighting created a relaxed, pleasing effect. Leilani led him to a door on the left marked '2010.' She produced a magnetic key and waved it before the door sensor. With a click the lock disengaged and the door popped slightly ajar.

"David just moved out yesterday, so we haven't had a chance to clean and prepare for a new tenant yet," she explained. "But you can get a good general idea of the apartment even so. Ready?" George nodded and she led the way in.

Chapter 3

George walked into a sun-drenched entry. The light came directly to his eyes through the opposite wall, perhaps thirty feet away, which appeared to be glass from floor to ceiling. Walking forward to allow Leilani to enter behind, he noticed the view of downtown Portland, stretching across the river and eastward to Mount Hood's snow-capped blue slopes. Without bothering to look around at the apartment, George walked straight to the windows and gazed out. He could see the incredible complexity of a modern city like watching a working model of a living creature: traffic on freeways, rivers, bridges and capillary streets; pedestrians from busy men in dark business suits to college girls in bright skimpy skirts and brighter hair; buildings from post-modern glass sheets to Victorian brick or painted wooden mansions converted to houses and apartments. Leilani stepped up beside him.

"This is incredible," George said. "Whatever this apartment costs, it's worth the price."

"Yes, I love this view especially at night," Leilani replied. She glanced sideways towards him and offered a tiny, almost secretive smile. "Shall we look at the apartment?"

"Of course," George answered, closing his eyes to break the spell of the city. "This is the kind of view you see in the movies when people are falling in love on top of some New York skyscraper. It's hard to walk away from."

"Mm hmm," Leilani laughed. "As long as I've been here, it never stops taking my breath away. But there are other rooms, and duty calls." She turned and moved to the right. George made an effort of will to escape the spell the city had cast over him, turning to follow.

As they toured the apartment, George noticed that the design was functional and very nice, without being ostentatious. The bathroom surfaces were tile, not marble. There were no crystal chandeliers. Room walls were painted drywall, not silk damask or solid hardwood. But everything was solidly built, well designed, pleasingly finished. This was a comfortable, functional, livable apartment, the kind he would feel at home in. It just happened to come with a million dollar view through a wall of glass. They ended the tour in the kitchen, standing among painted, raised-panel cabinets and granite counter tops. Like the pastel walls and light carpets, the white cabinets here seemed to capture an acre of sunlight from the east wall and radiate it back into the room. There would be no winter doldrums in this place, George was sure.

"What do you think?" Leilani asked. "Interested?"

"I think it's fantastic," George answered. "It's more than I could ever dream of affording. I'm embarrassed to waste your time like this because there is just no way I can afford this kind of place."

"Nonsense," Leilani declared. "I invited you to see the apartment, remember? And you certainly didn't deceive me about your financial status. Showing these apartments is part of my job. Getting people into them is another part. So if you like the apartment, our next step is to get you into it."

"I love the apartment," George expostulated. "I just don't see any way I can afford it."

"Well, let me make sure I understand your situation, and maybe ask a few questions," Leilani said. As she talked, she began to move back towards the glass wall on the east side. She seemed to fix her gaze on the horizon as she spoke. George followed, letting his eyes slip over the cityscape, letting her figure form a tantalizing foreground for the beauty beyond. Then they stood side by side gazing outward.

"You are single and will be living alone?" Leilani asked.

"Yes."

"You have no children?"

"None," George confirmed.

"Pets?"

"Not at the moment, though I'd kind of like to get one or two sometime soon. I think I need the companionship after my divorce."

Leilani seemed to gather her thoughts, then said, "You mentioned that you are retired Navy, so I assume you have a, shall we say, pragmatic and perhaps free-wheeling approach to life and people and social activities?"

George frowned, wondering where this was leading. 'Free Wheeling' could mean a number of things. "I'm not sure what you mean, or what you're looking for," he said.

"Well, let me tell you a little about the building and how it's managed," Leilani said. She still gazed out the windows. Is she nervous, George wondered, or is she trying to avoid making me nervous? "Our building is privately owned," Leilani continued, "by a group of women who are successful, powerful, and well-to-do in their own right. They have set certain rules and conditions that apply to the residents here. They have done their best to make it a place where people, but most especially women, can feel happy and fulfilled. And since they have earned their success, they feel they're entitled to enjoy the fruits in their own way." She glanced in George's direction. He caught her eye and nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"You may have noticed the small sign stating that this is an adult apartment community," she continued. George nodded. "That doesn't mean our residents are all 55 or older," she smiled, "it means we embrace a certain freedom of lifestyle that some people feel might be inappropriate for younger children." She glanced at George again, gauging his response. "While the people who choose to live here would almost universally disagree with that sentiment, we still respect the rights of others to choose their lifestyle, so we post the sign in order to avoid unhappy surprises." She turned to George, reading the confusion and skepticism on his face. Then she smiled her small smile again, and it seemed impossible that such a lovely woman could advocate anything immoral or unlovely.

"Truly, we're not all that shocking," she reassured him. "Simply put, we embrace nudity as a life style, with some minor rules that reflect the interests of our owners and governing board." George exhaled heavily and relaxed. Nudity was not a problem. Decades of Navy life, combined with an unhappy marriage, had immunized him from any hint of discomfort at being around other people in whatever states of dress, or undress, might apply. However, most of the naked people in his past had been male pushed together by shipboard living. The thought of Leilani running around clad only in flip-flops and her small secret smile presented quite a different situation to his imagination. His cock noticed, and responded accordingly.

"So what rules do the head women in charge apply?" he asked.

Leilani's smile widened, her dark eyes sparkling with laughter and a hint of mischief. "We are a CFNM building," she said. Anticipating his questioning look, she continued before he could ask. "That means Clothed Female, Naked Male. Simply put, our female residents wear whatever they want, whenever they want, but our male residents are always naked."

George felt his testicles draw up into his belly. His heart raced, his breathing stopped. His vision narrowed until the only thing he could see was Leilani. Was she saying what he thought, or was this some kind of joke? He knew she'd seen his erection downstairs. She knew he watched her ass as she walked ahead of him and gazed at her tits whenever he thought he could get away with it. Was this her way of teasing him, telling him that he'd have to strut around her with his package in full view but he'd never get to see hers? Was this some kind of reverse sexual harassment to turn the tables? On the other hand, he recognized the dry mouth, the tingling balls and heavy dick. He was both terrified and excited. Somehow the stakes in this game had just seriously changed.

"Could you explain that in a little more detail?" George asked.

"It really is simple," Leilani said with a chuckle. "Our female residents are free to dress as they wish, in anything or nothing. Most usually do wear clothing. Our male residents, however, are forbidden to wear any clothing at any time, anywhere within the building. The two entrances our residents use let directly onto locker rooms. Our male guests are required to disrobe in the locker room before continuing on into the building. They are allowed to dress again in the locker room immediately prior to exiting the building. A violation of this procedure is considered to be a violation of the lease agreement and subjects the man involved to disciplinary action, which could include eviction. Although," she hastened to add, "that's a drastic step and would be applied only in a case of repeated, willfull violations."

George's mouth was so dry he could hardly speak. His limbs felt weak. He felt like he was sweating in this perfectly climate-controlled environment. He worked saliva around in his mouth, tried to limber his tongue.

"You, ah, brought me up here with my clothes on," he observed.

"Of course," Leilani explained." You're not yet a resident. And though the rules also apply to male guests, we do allow some leeway for the sales staff. That would be me," she added. George looked at her with a thoughtful expression. He was wondering how to continue. Leilani rescued his almost non-functional thought processes by answering his next question before he could ask.

"Now as to the rent agreement," she said, "we realize that an apartment like this would be beyond the reach of most working people. But there are a few units set aside for what we affectionately refer to as 'eye candy.'" George rolled his eyes, and Leilani giggled. "Think of it as a scholarship," she said. "Like men, women don't usually make their fortunes until they're well along in life. And like men, our older women like to have attractive younger members of the opposite sex running around naked. And since most of our board members are well into their fifties and sixties, they prefer men who are mature enough to be stable as well as beautiful. Believe me, the teenage Adonis types are just way too much drama. Our women like men, not hormone-powered children."

"Leilani paused a moment, drew a breath, and asked yet again, "so, what do you think?"

"Um, how much would the rent be with the 'scholarship?'" George asked.

"$850.00"

"And how much without the scholarship?"

"$4500.00" Leilani didn't even blink mentioning the price. George raised his eyebrows in shock. It was a nice apartment with a fantastic view, but it wasn't really luxurious. The price seemed steep. He wondered if there was a little incentive built in here, to help him make a decision.

"And you think I qualify for a 'scholarship?'" he asked.

Leilani nodded. "I think you would qualify handsomely." She smiled at the little pun. "However, while I can recommend, the final decision has to come from the owner's board of directors. They would need to, ah, interview you in person before making a decision."

George felt his heart sag. This was his last day to find an apartment. He was scheduled to return to California in about 18 hours. He needed to lock down a place before leaving, or he'd find himself arriving in Portland with a rented truck full of shit and no place to unload it.

"How long would it take to set up the interview and get a decision?" George asked.

Leilani burst into action, seeming to almost explode with enthusiasm. "Let me make a call and we'll find out," she energetically. "We don't need all the board members, just a quorum. Of course the fewer members who are present, the higher a percentage of 'yes' votes we'll need, but I really don't think that will be a problem." At George's acquiescent nod, she produced a miniature flip-phone from some secret hiding place and stepped away from the windows as she dialed. George concentrated on the view to the east, trying not to eavesdrop. He heard Leilani say something that sounded positive, then a tiny click as the flip phone snapped shut.

"We're in luck," Leilani announced as George turned to her. "Mrs. Johnson already has things lined up. Seems she was impressed there in the elevator." She gave George a wink. "They can have a quorum assembled in the meeting room in ten minutes. That's just enough time to get you down to the locker room and back. Shall we go?"

"Well, having seen the rest of the building I feel I can safely assume the locker rooms will be adequate," George said. "Wouldn't it be more efficient to just go straight to the meeting?"

"Don't be silly, George." Leilani's smile turned slightly wicked. "You're applying for a rent deduction in a CFNM building. You can't expect to go into that meeting with your clothes on, now can you?" Then her expression turned thoughtful. "However, you're right. If the elevators are slow, we could be late for the meeting. It might be better if you just undress right here and we'll go directly up." George felt the blood rush from his face. His throat grew so tight he felt he might choke. The reality of what he was contemplating hit him like a monkey wrench to the brain. Was he actually going to strip right here, right now, and walk out of this apartment bare-ass naked? Would he have to leave his clothes behind? He realized that none of the people he'd met here so far had been naked. What if this was all a joke at his expense? But then what if it wasn't? He looked longingly out at the city spread before him. The view was almost hypnotic. He looked back at Leilani, who watched patiently.

"You want me to undress now?" George asked. He hated the way the tension in his voice made him sound over-wound.

"I thought that was your idea," Leilani said with a quizzical frown. "That way we won't risk keeping the board waiting. I don't suppose a few minutes either way is going to offend them, but on the other hand your initiative could win some points."

"Um, are you... could I...." George looked around the large room seeking some place with a hint of privacy. The open floor plan afforded little. He gave a vague spinning motion with his left hand, hoping she would get the hint and turn her back. Leilani cocked her head and rolled her eyes like a disgusted teenager, then caught herself and visibly reconstructed her professional persona.

"Perhaps you'd like some time to think about this?" Leilani asked. "I can ask the board if they'll be available some other time." The thought of losing an opportunity to lock in such a wonderful apartment sent George into another whirl of panic, with a different flavor than the erotic terror of a moment ago. "George," Leilani said in a quiet voice, "the board is going to rent this apartment to an attractive man who will bring some pleasure into their home lives by walking around the building naked. If you want this apartment, you'll need to convince them that you're that man. When you walk into that meeting, they're going to be looking for a strong, fit, self-assured man, secure in his physical appearance and happy to share his beauty with the women who reside here. If you slink into that meeting like a guilty teenager caught masturbating to internet porn, you'll be back on the street in ten minutes, fully clothed and homeless."

"I've talked with you and looked you over and I like you," she continued. "I've done my best to make you feel comfortable and give you a shot at getting into this apartment. But frankly, if you're afraid to undress here with just me, then I should probably call the board members and tell them I was mistaken and you're not interested. You need to make a decision, George. Do we go meet the board, or do you walk away?"

George took a deep breath, closed his eyes, opened them again. He looked at the city beyond the windows. Gorgeous. He looked at Leilani, who somehow managed to appear both sympathetic and all business. Gorgeous. He felt he was out of his league. Being naked around a hundred other naked guys, with a few female nurses or medical assistants present, was one thing. Stripping naked in front of a gorgeous near-stranger and then walking out into an open hallway and into a room full of clothed women while still bare-assed naked was something else entirely. He closed his eyes again, crossed his arms, clasped the hem of his shirt in his hands. His fingers were weak. His hands shook so badly he could hardly grip the coarse fabric. Then before he could think any more, he simply raised his hands over his head, straightening his arms and peeling the shirt from his upper body, then wrenching it off over his head. He opened his eyes and looked directly into Leilani's appreciative smile as she reached forward and took his shirt.

George fumbled with the button on his pants. It took both hands and considerable concentration to get it unfastened. He pulled the zipper tab slowly down, careful to avoid any possible entanglement. He couldn't even feel his dick. He couldn't tell if he was fully erect from excitement or shrunk to a dimple from fear. He wasn't sure whether he was about to pass out from anxiety or spontaneously orgasm from sexual overload. He pulled the trouser flaps aside, hooked his thumbs over the waste band, and worked his pants over his hips. He pushed down and they puddled around his ankles. He tried to step out but the pants caught on his shoes. Damn. Forgot about the shoes. With his pants around his ankles, he couldn't lift his legs to untie the laces. Unable to spread his feet for balance, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, planting his ass on the carpet and drawing his feet together up to his thighs. Too impatient to bother with laces, he grasped the heel of each shoe and yanked it from his foot, then tore the sock from his foot and stuffed it into the shoe. He tossed the shoes a couple feet away on the carpet, where he wouldn't stumble over them, pushed the pants over his feet, then considered the problem of his underwear. Should he strip them down his legs while still seated on the carpet, or stand first? He glanced up at Leilani. She still watched, still smiled. Too much thinking, he decided. Just do it. He grabbed the waistband of his tighty-whities, and giving a little bunny hop to jerk his ass off the carpet, his thrust them over his hips and down to his knees. He leaned forward awkwardly to get them down to his ankles, then pulled one foot out and kicked them aside to land atop his shoes. Then he rolled onto his knees, ready to stand and walk.