That’s right. It’s not the fault of the building that it’s noisy in my bedroom right now. Asher and whoever it is he’s with are just being extremely loud. And I’m guessing it’s on purpose.
The purpose? To drive me out of my mind, of course. And maybe my apartment.
That’s exactly why Asher has brought home a woman every night for the past several nights. And I mean every night. Once, I think he even brought two. Who does that? And each time, he makes it a point to let me know. The banging on the walls. The laughter. The moans. The screams. And there goes another one just now.
I wonder if Asher makes it a point to pick women who are loud, like he asks them if they’re loud in bed after they tell him their names—hilarious—or if he orders them to scream at the top of their lungs whenever he’s… doing whatever he’s doing to them. Because seriously, the noise is unreal. Asher can’t be that good.
Or is he?
I’ve tried not to mind the whole thing. The first time, I simply did my best to ignore the noise. And the images. Frankly, I think the images do more damage. I couldn’t. No one is that mentally tough. So the next night, I played music. Loud rock ballads. But I’ve never been a fan of rock and I’ve never been good at sleeping with music on, or doing anything with music on for that matter. So yeah, I didn’t get any sleep then either. The third night, I got earbuds, only to remove them after a few minutes because I couldn’t sleep with them on. They just felt weird.
After three nights of barely any sleep, I decided to spend the fourth in the living room. I finally did manage to get some sleep there, but I woke up with back pains which bothered me the whole day. I moved to the spare bedroom the following night only to get bitten by bedbugs. Great.
So here I am back in my bedroom as I should be. If I let Asher drive me out of my bedroom, who’s to say he won’t succeed in driving me out of my apartment next?
But damn it, I can’t stand the noise. And the images.
As the noises grow louder, the images in my head become more vivid. I imagine Asher pounding this loud, faceless woman up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. I can see the beads of sweat on his back and the scratch marks from her nails from earlier. I can see the muscles moving, creating ripples in his skin. His pale, perfect, round ass doesn’t jiggle one bit as he jerks his hips.
I lick my lips.
The woman screams again. Even louder this time. She must be close. Then I hear another thud on the wall.
Asher must have put her down on the floor and turned her around. He’s fucking her from behind now. Hard. The woman’s hands are above her head, her wrists pinned by one of Asher’s hands. His other hand is on her breast. He squeezes it firmly as he jerks his hips. Heat floods my chest.
Each time Asher moves his hips, heat travels through my veins until it reaches every corner of my body. My breasts swell against the sheets. My belly catches fire.
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air. And something wet. I reach between my legs and feel a wet spot on my underwear. I rub against it and shiver.
Asher’s jaw clenches. His nostrils flare. Pure lust swims in the dark orbs peeking from beneath heavy eyelids. Then he opens his mouth.
“I’m… coming.”
My fingers move faster as Asher’s hips pick up speed. They stop and lips part. My body trembles as ripples of pleasure travel beneath my skin.
The woman cries out. Only, as my mind starts to clear, I realize it wasn’t the woman.
It was me. I made that sound. I… came. While listening to Asher have sex with another woman on the other side of the wall, imagining it was me.
Fuck.
I sit up and clasp my hand over my mouth as shame washes over me. Then I realize my fingers are wet. I stare at them and my stomach tightens. I suddenly feel sick.
What was I doing?
I run to the bathroom to wash my hands. I don’t look at my reflection in the mirror. I can’t bear to. I’m disgusted with myself for masturbating to the noise of my neighbors having sex. And not just any neighbors. Asher. I let him win. I let him take control of me without even touching me.
Does he have this much power over me? Or am I just that weak? At any rate, I feel like pounding my head against the bathroom wall.