Gasps and yelps, rhythmic wails, punctuated by the odd masculine grunt and the persistent drum beat of her headboard against my wall. She must be faking; I mean, c’mon – nobody makes that kind of noise in bed. Seriously, this is the third guy I’ve heard her with and she’s screamed like that with every one. Now, I’ve had sex before, a few times I’ll have you know, and it’s never once been so mind-blowingly good that it’s called for porn star style dramatics, but Amy hits the outstanding sex jackpot three times in a row? No way, I’m not buying it. The headboard drum gains in tempo, the squeals gain volume, thrilling, frantic.
I throw my book aside and with it all pretense of reading. Cover my ears, submerge my head under my duvet and and beg for sleep to save me from this torture. No amount of begging works. Gasp, bang, grunt, yelp. The noises cannot be unheard; the moving picture cannot be unformed in my mind. Curse my artists vivid imagination.
Her tall, lithe, naked form, long toned limbs kneeling on all fours atop her bedcovers, perfect butt offered unashamedly to her latest conquest, elegant back arched, feline. Head thrown back, glossy golden curls spilling across shoulders as he pounds her from behind. In my mind he grasps her flawless honey thighs, pulling her towards him with each thrust as his erection fills her spongy tightness. This mind movie plays in time with the soundtrack that permeates my duvet, my pillow, my ears. I see her face, ice blue eyes rolled back, stoned with sex, rosebud lips forming a perfect ‘O’ as he fills her up, small perky tits bouncing with each bang.
I don’t want to imagine her tits. I don’t want to see her sex face in my mind. I don’t want to feel a growing wetness in my pussy, a jolt of electricity inside me as I hear them fucking, as I imagine him pushing his aching cock deep inside her. I refuse to acknowledge my growing desire. Hands stay firmly over my ears, temptation to allow them to wander down below denied. I cannot pleasure myself with her face in my mind, her sex noises in my ears. And yet I do. As if with a mind of its own, possessed by some uncontrollable magnetic impulse, my hand finds its way beneath the elastic of my pyjama shorts, between my legs and plays idly with my pulsing clitoris as I allow the duvet to fall back from my head and permit their carnal noises fill my room, my head, my body.
My other hand slips up underneath my strappy pyjama top and feels the weight of my generous breasts, cupping one, squeezing, nipple already erect. The noise from next door has changed, banging replaced by a mattress squeaking; they’ve clearly adjusted position. I imagine him now, lying on his back – the man I’ve not seen but heard, who in my mind has been blessed with a body somewhere between Vin Diesel and Chris Hemsworth and a face that is at first one, and then the other, as my imagination pleases, occasionally becoming my old PE teacher (inspiration for many hours of randy teenage masturbation) – his erection standing tall, an invitation my body responds to heartily.
My agile flat mate climbs aboard, long legs astride manly torso, leaning over to kiss him only briefly, rough hands cupping small breasts, tongues licking, sucking, cock nestled agonizingly against her butt, throbbing to be allowed in. In my mind’s eye it grows bigger still, eager, desperate. It’s not his face I see as she slides the head of him into place at her sick opening, but hers. Eyes wide, tongue darting out to lick lips that hang open. Lowering herself slowly onto him, taking him in an inch at a time. My fingers slip lower as I hear her cry of delight as she takes him in fully, sitting down on him hard, grinding. My folds swollen with lust, slick, my fingers slipping in easily.
Not enough, I reach blindly into my bedside drawer, find my vibrator. Turning onto all fours, I grab a large cushion, add a pillow on top, fire up my toy so it purrs deliciously in my hand and quickly stick it up the legs of my short shorts, the head of it buzzing against my clit, instant ecstasy. I waste no time. Hold it against the wet folds of myself, climb astride my pillow pile, my makeshift lover, and sit down slowly onto the vibrator, as I see her sitting down on him over and over, replaying his cock sliding into her one glorious inch at a time. I want to cum immediately, my body ready to let go, but I force myself to focus, to wait. Her mouth widening, that scream. The toy hums inside me, deep inside; I take it in fully, my own mouth wide but silent. I push down against the springy pile of pillows, gyrate in circles with the cock inside me. In my head she gyrates in circles, filled with his cock. She cups her own breasts as I cup mine. Her cries loud and gasping. He is rising up to meet her, bucking underneath her, taking her in his hands and flipping her over, onto her back. I turn myself over and lie too on my back, bringing my pillows on top of me, my legs wrapped tightly around them, holding the vibrator firmly inside me as it works its magic. She wraps her legs around him and pulls him in deeper as he fucks her harder. He fucks me harder. He can take no more. He is pummeling into her, into me. I hear her orgasm in her scream as he explodes inside her, and at that same moment I give in and allow fireworks to cascade through me, firing in my cells. Pussy twitching, pulsating. White hot liquid bliss.
Later, when I’ve come down from the dizzy heights of my climax, I shove the vibrator back in my drawer, deciding to wash it later, or tomorrow, when she’s at work. Silence fills the flat now, but I don’t want to risk bumping into her in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. I flush with shame. Am I a voyeur? The thought that it was the best orgasm I’ve ever had solo flitters through the landscape of my mind, but I open the window and shoo it away. I like Amy, she’s nice and all, but I am not attracted to her. It’s normal to get horny listening to anyone having sex, right? I rationalize. That’s why people watch porn. Does Amy have sex so fake loudly on purpose, so I’ll hear? I banish that crazy thought too, and the brief response that maybe I liked the idea that she wanted to impress me. Crazy.
(FULL STORY COMING SOON – COMMENT IF YOU WANT MORE!)