They were the worst roommates. I never knew what I’d hear coming from their room.

They hadn’t heard me come in. Her moans were unfettered, his grunts punctuated with the slap of flesh on flesh. My panties were sodden in moments.

Slipping through the apartment, I avoided the squeaky board that would betray my presence.

I sagged against my doorframe when he came with a shout. My clit throbbed in time with my heartbeat. “Eat my pussy.” Her voice drifted to my sensitive ears without obstruction. Their door must be open, again, I thought.

My feet pulled me down the hall. The sing of leather through the air was followed by a deep moan. She’s using the cat. I swallowed hard.

“Suck it.” Her voice was breathy yet firm. My fingers reached out and found the molding of their door. The aroma of sex filled the air. I leaned against the wall, slid my fingers into my slacks. Moans and gasps filled the space between the lick of leather against skin. I wondered if she lashed him hard enough to raise welts, ached to read the braille of his flesh.

My fingers pulled against my clit, matching their rhythm. Her moans escalated, my breath grew ragged. I wished for the return of my sight, to see his back laced with red weals.

My orgasm unlocked my knees and I sank to the floor with a dull thud. She screamed her pleasure.

A floor board creaked, close.




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