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CHAPTER ONE
Eden
Every inchof this nearly empty off-campus apartment reminded me that I was truly alone now. The cold, bare walls echoed the hollow ache in my heart. However, these same walls also signaled a new beginning. This was a new dawn, a new era, a new me. New memories and experiences would fill this void in time.
I forced my gaze around the small space, determination surging through my veins. My new home wasn’t furnished with much, but it didn’t matter. This was my sanctuary. This was my refuge from the chaos that would soon engulf my life once I returned to school.
Still, there was something about being on my own that filled me with trepidation. My heart rate kicked up a notch. I was so used to having my family breathing down my neck, someone always telling me what to do or making my decisions for me.
Now the silence was deafening. There was an echo in the emptiness, each minute bouncing back, only reminding me of my solitude. I both loved and hated it.
I figured I was just overly tired, my body weak. My legs were shaky from climbing the stairs so many times, and my arms were sore from unpacking. But the pain was more than welcomed. It meant I had accomplished something.
Apart from the one worker I had hired to assist me with the larger pieces—a kid in college himself who was looking to make a quick buck—there had been no one helping me as I lugged the rest of what little I owned into this place. I moved across the country all by myself to set up a new life.
Night had fallen, and the darkness threatened to pull me under with it, an allure I wasn’t sure I wanted to resist any longer. I laid down on the new sheets I just put on the mattress, my head resting on a new pillow I splurged on. My eyes were heavy.
A thump on the wall beside my bed gave me pause. I tilted my head as the thump came again, then once more. It grew louder and was eventually accompanied by other familiar sounds: a man groaning and a woman moaning.
“Oh, yes, right there. Oh my God, harder!”
Beyond the wall, the sounds of sex grew frenzied, the rhythmic pounding of their activity creating a beat that made me feel like I was right there with them. I shouldn’t, but I pressed my ear against the sheetrock.
“Fuck me harder! Yes, please, right there!” the woman yelled. The sound of her pleas raised in octaves, a testament to pleasure.
I slid my hand down to my pants. Once I unbuttoned the top button on my jeans, my fingers found I was already wet. Hot slick gushed onto my fingers as I inserted them into myself slowly, listening to the sounds of my neighbors.
I had only been here a day, and already I disgusted myself with my lack of self-control. The walls were paper thin and couldn’t quite block out the sounds. Their passionate cries brought me back to a different time—a simpler time—one where I wasn’t on my own.
The sounds from next-door mingled with the memories in my mind, slowly warping what was real and what wasn’t.
The screams in my head were at war with the screams of the woman next door. And there, in my small, one-bedroom apartment, I sought my release.
I spread my lips with one hand and strummed my nipple with the other. I pressed myself as close to the wall as possible. The coolness of the sheetrock against my hot skin was a contrast that only heightened my senses. With my ear flushed against the wall, I spread my middle and pointer fingers in a “V” shape and slid them up and down the sides of that little button. I didn’t want to get off too fast, but I also didn’t want to go too slow.
The fight against myself to make this session worth my while only amped my sexual tension. My fingers matched the tempo of the flow next door. A sultry dance of three, even though they didn’t know.
As their sounds reached a crescendo, I slid two fingers inside.
“Fuck me like a dirty whore!” the woman begged.
The distinct sound of gurgling took me by surprise. I could only imagine what was still going on. I closed my eyes and let all the dirty mental images assault my mind.
I imagined it was me in her place, a nameless, faceless, dark-haired brute taking me roughly from behind against this very wall. My fingers moved faster as I imagined my mystery lover gripping my neck with his thick, large hands. My excitement increased, unsure how hard and far he’d push me. His grunts would come faster, harsher as he reached his climax inside my pussy.
The woman next door screamed as she came, and the man’s sounds grew louder. His voice was raspy and deep. It hit me in my core and caused me to come harder than I had ever come in my life.
Still panting, I sank into my mattress. My pants were still unbuttoned, my hand still in my panties as I quivered from the aftershocks of my release.
“You can leave now,” I heard him say.
Damn. Harsh.
So, they weren’t a couple—she was just some woman he used to satiate his needs. I didn’t understand why the thought of him being unattached started a flutter in my belly.
Like the curious cat I was, I listened closer as they discussed the situation. I focused on the timbre of his voice. It was calm and even. The woman didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want her to stay. While her voice rose in her upset, his got deeper in anger.
I felt a twinge of non-sexual excitement, one I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Drama was always exciting to witness. Then the guilt hit me. I shouldn’t have felt anything good about what was happening next door, or after what I’d done to satisfy myself.
