and Wives
Naked over New York
© 1999 by J.Z. Sharpe
Jake poured himself a glass of chardonnay and selected the light-jazz station, too tired to even choose a CD. After working twelve hours straight to meet a deadline, he didn't even want to think anymore, let alone make decisions. He sipped from his wine glass, walked across the room and parted the draperies -- and that was when he saw her. Later, he would wonder what might have happened if he had never looked.
She seemed so tiny and pale, poised at the edge of the roof next door, dressed only in a flowered bra and matching panties. The temperature was in the lower 70's, but a brisk wind raced off the East River, so she couldn't have been all that comfortable. At first she just sat on the low wall that went around the roof, but as Jake picked up the telephone to call 911, she brought her hands to her upper back, and with one deft movement, unhooked her bra and tossed it down to the street. He wondered where it would land, after traveling several stories, and what would happen once it got there.
Jake couldn't stand by any longer. He slid open the glass door, stepped out to his own balcony, and called to her, cupping his hands so his voice would carry over the city noise.
"What are you doing?" he shouted.
She turned, fast enough that her straight brown hair fell into her face, and she brought up one hand to brush it away. Her newly uncovered breasts were lovely, not too big or too small, with pert, plump nipples the color of raspberries. Jake wondered again about the ultimate fate of her bra.
"What are you doing?" he called again.
She only shrugged and turned away.
He studied the distance from his own balcony to where she sat. A movie stunt man could cover the distance easily -- but Jake, a writer of commercials and advertising copy, a man who drove a keyboard all day, would never be able to do it. He sighed. Maybe he would have to trust this to the trained professionals after all.
The woman's shoulders began to shake. Even over the sound of traffic and approaching sirens, he could still hear her sobs. "Damn it," he said to himself. "I can't let her sit there like that." Wasn't there anything that would get him to the other roof? He leaned over the balcony and peeked along the side of the building -- where he noticed a rusty pipe that crossed the gap about ten feet down. If he could wiggle along a narrow ledge, just a few feet to go, he could grab the pipe and shimmy next door in no time. He brushed his hands on his jeans, took a long, deep breath, and made his move.
The most important thing, Jake realized, was to avoid looking down into the narrow abyss between the two buildings. One false step, and he'd be hurtling to the ground. He averted his gaze to the sky, where he saw a helicopter hovering in the distance. A news chopper, perhaps? Would his foolish heroism be broadcast for all of New York to see? "Can't think about that now," he whispered as his fingers touched the pipe. He grabbed it, tightly, closed his eyes, and positioned himself so he could slide next door with very little effort. In seconds, his feet felt the blessedly hard asphalt. He straightened himself, swallowed hard, and opened his eyes.
The woman stared right at him. As Jake approached her, she held out her hand to wave him off. "I can't believe you did that. Go away!" she shouted. "You're not going to talk me out of this."
kNaked over New Yorkr f Site iNaked over New Yorkj Porn m m Girls Dating