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It seems I have a new neighbor.
Fanning myself, I throw my bag to the ground and flip on the hallway light.
My studio is less than average. Other than my bathroom, the quaint room is completely open, featuring a half kitchen on one side and my bedroom-slash-living room on the other. It’s a little messy, but thanks to my multi-colored smart lighting system, I’ve given the space tons of moody vibes.
Sighing, I strip to my undies and climb into bed, fluffing the pillows before relaxing and flipping open my laptop.
My body feels like it’s buzzing as I open my music app and click the sleepy Lo-Fi playlist I’ve been listening to during my nightly ritual. Then I reach into my nightstand and fist my hand around the long, squishy tool I know I’ll need.
Reaching beneath the covers, I slide off my panties, lower the pink wand between my legs, and press the tiny button at its base, making it buzz to life. When the silicone vibrates over my clit, the male heartthrob’s face rears in my mind’s eye, wetting me further.
Fucking neighbors.
3
Samuel
Mynewabodeis…
Not what I fucking asked for.
I fist my hand around my phone, preparing to call Matthew and give him a taste of my mind, when the music begins to play.
I scan the room, searching the empty darkness for whatever could be broadcasting the gentle beats. And then I realize I’m in an apartment building, where multiple families live out their lives, including the woman next door.
The walls are thin, and it must be her device sounding the tunes. Anothercharmto look forward to while living in such a crowded place.
It can’t be helped. I’m stuck here, in thecity, and humanity is a side effect I’ll need to get re-accustomed to. Slowly, I tuck my phone into my pocket. Calling Matthew can wait.
I take a moment to survey the room before making mental notes about what I should buy and have delivered here. There’s enough room for a couch, maybe a single table if I’m lucky, and I can make do with the small countertop as my makeshift desk.
I’m making a mental list when a new sound infiltrates the music. It’s soft, with a raspy, breathless edge. The current song ends, and between it and the next track, my ears focus on the broken, buzzing silence.
Curious, I take a step closer to the wall, cocking my head as I listen deeper. The buzzing muffles in and out, as if being contained by something for a second before springing free. Faintly, a deep, low moan penetrates the air.
The woman from the elevator ispleasuringherself.
And the sounds from thishumanseem to be… doing something to me.
A tingling sensation travels across my thighs, making me clench up with anticipation. My manhood is responsive, swelling beneath the fabric of my trousers. I glance down at it in disgust as I move away from the wall.
I attempt to remember all the details of my brief encounter with the woman, desperately searching for something in her persona that would reveal an otherworldly nature, but nothing stands out. She was petite, curvaceous, and wore her golden hair in loose waves around her head. Truly average, as most humans are.
I chalk up my erection to one thing; I haven’t slept with anyone in far too long.
My last partner had been a meal, and her pleasure ended the moment mine began. The shameful memory nearly melts my sexual excitement away, but then the woman behind the wall belts out another throaty cry.
It’s only natural for my body to react when sex is shoved in my face.
Grunting in annoyance, I lean against the far wall and pop open the button on my pants. Of all the issues I’m dealing with, my pitiful show of sexual frustration is something I can easily mend.
Refocusing my senses on the other side of the wall, I let the woman’s moans enter my thoughts. The soft smack of her lips and the constant pulse of her vibrator fill my mind as I take my cock into my hand. I’ll be ashamed of this action later, but for now, giving into this meaningless release is exactly what I need.
I spend most of the day in the bathroom.
The apartment’s windows have thick blinds, but light seeps through the cracks, and it makes me lethargic. Until I have blackout curtains installed, I’m left with no choice but to shut myself into the only space without windows.
If I were somewhere else, invisible from the eyes of the Order, I wouldn’t mind falling into the coma-like state the sun cripples me to. It’s the only way I can dream, after all.
