Author’s note: I’ll go ahead and leave the inspiration for this story to your imagination. 🙄
She heard the first throb of the subwoofer through the wall, and Erica glanced at her phone. Yup, 10:00 PM, just like every night. Just like every night, she was trying to wind down before bed, and the new goddamn neighbours turned on their goddamn bass-heavy music and… she waited, listening.
Yup, there it was: the woman next door was moaning.
She had to hand it to the couple, having never met them: they fucked like champs. Seriously, every night for the last two weeks. They put on some over-produced club banger and went to town on each other, the woman moaning and shrieking like she’d taken sexual performativity in college, and her partner sometimes howling “Awwwwfffuccccck!” as, presumably, he nut.
It made Erica giggle. But the noise, every weeknight? It was a bit much. She never wanted to be that person who complained to the landlord, but come on.
Erica sighed, annoyed, as she slid one hand under the waistband of her sweats and rubbed herself through her panties. After two weeks, it only took a few minutes for the music to make her damp, for the pulsing, rhythmic beat to crank her libido up to eleven. She couldn’t resist the swelling need to masturbate, and it only took a few strokes and circles before her other hand was pulling her panties aside so she had unfettered access to her slick cunt.
After the first week, she’d gotten used to moving to her bed around 9:50, so she wouldn’t soak her couch cushions. Erica pulled the hem of her shirt up and stuck it between her teeth, embarrassed at the thought that her neighbours, preoccupied as they were, might hear how she was moaning in time with the woman getting drilled next door.
She squirmed out of her pants and spread her legs wide, pumping her fingers into her pussy, fantasizing about what her neighbours looked like and what the man’s cock would feel like, filling her completely.
The longer the music throbbed in her head, clouding her thoughts with lust, the more Erica needed to be fucked.
She never wanted to be that person who complained, but it had been two whole weeks. So when she’d cum twice but the music was still playing and she still wasn’t satisfied, she found herself banging on their apartment door, not sure what would happen when they answered, but hardly caring—as long as they gave her the relief she needed.
She left her sweats, and her panties, back at her place.