My neighbor Allan's a drunk. He and Anna fight a lot.
Warning:
This story involves cheating.
**
Some time ago, Allan and Anna moved into the apartment abutting mine. Apartments in the building are relatively cheap to rent, with corresponding quality, and the building is filled with hard-working, poorly paid people, yours truly being no exception. Allan and Anna are a young couple, with Allan around my age, and Anna a few years younger. I don't think they're married, but they live together. It's probably a good thing they're not married, because they constantly fight. The fights are noisy, too, as they yell at each other, rather loudly. Their language is - at times - rather tasteless, as well. I find it distressing.
I've come to know Anna a bit. There's a nice Italian style market near where I live in Manhattan. It has a real butcher and it sells fresh fish, and Italian products that are hard to find elsewhere, such as fresh broccoli rabe. I shop there a lot, and quite a few times I have run into Anna also shopping at the market. We've come to talk to each other, and quite frankly, Anna strikes me as a sweetheart of a young woman, fairly innocent, trusting, and eager to please. She has eyes that simply absorb you, and let your imagination run wild. There's something I can't explain about her, a certain je ne sais quoi.
A few times, after one of these chance encounters at the market, Anna and I went out for coffee, and we had some nice, long conversations. We both learned a lot about each other, our backgrounds and history, and the like. For example, Anna really likes the pumpkin ravioli. "Just boil it, drizzle some high-quality olive oil over it, add a soupcon of butter, and voilà ! You have a winning dish. Allan loves it," she said. In return, I mentioned the sheep's cheese from the Pyrénées mountains., spanning parts of both France and Spain. I felt we had become casual friends.
The fights Allan and Anna have, on an almost daily basis, are followed more often than not by some passionate times. Allan is a quiet lover, but Anna likes to moan, with the occasional erotic screams. I hear it all, since their bedroom wall is also my bedroom wall, and the wall is thin. Anna is pretty and sexy, so it's not hard for me to imagine I'm the one driving her to erotic heights, even if the reality is, of course, that it's Allan.
Either Anna's easy to please, or Allan is a real talent. Maybe it's just that fighting turns her on? It wouldn't interest me even in the slightest if I didn't hear it so clearly all the time. If I'm not having a long day at work, I hear it at least twice a day. On the rare occasion when I'm home the whole day, for one reason or another, and if they're both home, too, I sometimes hear them go at it three or four times in a day.
I do have noise cancelling, Bluetooth, Bose headphones, and sometimes I use them and listen to Mozart during one of their noisy sex sessions. Other times, though, I do what I imagine many men might do in such a circumstance: I use my imagination and my right hand, while Anna supplies the soundtrack through the wall. It's gotten to the point that I can predict Anna's orgasms just by the changes in her moans as the climax approaches. I try to time mine to sync with hers. I'm a bit of shamed of all this, and at times I wonder if I'm perverted, or just a normal man? It's not something I would survey my friends about.
**
It was a Friday. I was coming home, after a long day of work, when I ran into an old friend. She was actually a friend from high school and I hadn't seen her in eight years. She was, in fact, my major girlfriend in high school, and when I looked at her, I had mixed emotions. On the one hand, she had been my first, I had been her first, too, and I knew I'd always love her. On the other hand, as soon as we both got to college, after a wonderful summer together, I got the "Dear John" letter, because she had met someone else.
Louise had a sense of humor, so she began the letter "Dear John," and then she crossed out John and replaced it with my name, Rick. Yes, it was an actual letter, not a text, email, or social network communication, and she had actually written it with pen and ink. I still have the letter. I keep it in a box along with the risqué pictures I took of her that memorable summer, and which I also still have. Louise and I got to talking. It was fun to see her again, and we had dinner together, and then I took her back to my place. She hadn't even proposed her place, but I thought nothing of it.
I was nervous. It was like our first time, all over again, but when I summoned my courage and went to kiss Louise, she smiled and kissed me back in a way that got me instantly hard. We kept kissing, and gradually I undressed her exactly the way I had in the back of my parent's car from our high school days. It was much more comfortable now in a bed, than it had been in the back seat of a twelve-year-old Volvo. My parents had never let me drive the new car.
Louise seemed just as turned on as I was. I had always loved her sexual enthusiasm. The woman was a prize. Imagine my delight when I realized that, with age and maturity, her sexual techniques had even improved, too! I was thrilled to find she moaned loudly when I ate her out. She let me cum in her mouth when she blew me, and she even swallowed! None of that happened when we were both in high school! That alone made our rendezvous worthwhile. I was living the nostalgic dream.
When we made love, her moans actually bordered on screams. I was loving fucking my old girlfriend again, but part of me was thrilled just because I knew for certain that Allan and Anna were listening to me give such huge pleasure to a woman. I was finally giving back to them the soundtrack that they gave to me on a daily basis. Yes, I had told Louise all about Allan and Anna. She had giggled, and she had actually called me lucky to have such neighbors.
"That was wonderful, Rick, but I must be getting back to Martin before it gets too late," Louise said.
"I figured you probably had a boyfriend. Is it serious? I'd like to see you again," I said, rather pathetically.
"Martin's not my boyfriend. He's my husband," Louise said, as she waved her left hand in front of my face, showing me her wedding band and the giant diamond surmounted upon her engagement ring.
It's hard to believe I hadn't noticed that before, but all I could see was my old high school girlfriend, her breasts pushing out at her blouse, and all her curves. I hadn't noticed her current marital status. She was not some random woman I picked up in a bar; no, she was Louise: The Louise of my life!
"This was fun, and I loved it, but we can't do it again. It's too risky. I love Martin," she said, managing to fuck me and then to reject me for the second time of my life.
"Funny way of showing it," I mumbled.
"Rick, you never understood me. I loved you in high school. I still do. I always will. Also, we got to show your neighbors that you too can drive a woman to nirvana. I moaned extra loud for you tonight. Find me on Facebook and friend me, why don't you?" Louise said, and somehow, that last thing she had said about becoming friends on Facebook, did it for me. I now had closure, and I knew I'd never call or even friend Louise. It had been wonderful, but it was over. It had been over for a long time, and only now had I realized that.
**
A couple of weeks later, I was walking up the stairs to my fifth-floor walk-up, finally home after a long, tiring day at work. I was tired, and hungry. I share the floor with Allan and Anna. I saw Allan stomping down the stairs in a huff. He was angry as he brushed past me, almost - but not quite - knocking me down the stairs. As I got to the fifth floor, the door to their apartment was ajar. It was as silent as a tomb.
I truly hoped it wasn't a tomb. The way those two go at each other's throats, it would not surprise me if some harm fell to one of them. Anna is diminutive, feminine, and around five feet, four inches tall; while Allan is well over six feet and built like an ox. Except for the fact that Anna is human and can use tools (and weapons) it wouldn't be much of a contest between the two of them. Still, it was much too quiet for my liking.
I knocked on the door with some trepidation, and it slipped open a little more. I heard Anna's voice say come in. "Is that you, Rick?" she asked. It was clearly either her partner Allan returning, or me (I'm Rick), since the fifth floor is the top floor of the building, and nobody strolls up to the fifth floor for no reason. I announced my presence, and Anna called out, "Come in and shut the door, please. I'm in the bedroom, and I could use your help."
I went into the bedroom and got the shock of my life. There was this cute little thing, strapped spread eagle onto the bed, and with professional looking bondage materials, to boot. Oh yes, she was also stark naked. "Excuse my appearance, please, Rick," she said.
"No problem," I replied, gazing at the beauty all laid out before me. God, did she look sexy and inviting! Anna blushed.
"Could you release me, please? Allan is in one of his moods, and he won't come back until late this evening, drunk, and I don't want to stay naked and bound until then," Anna said, completely calmly. "He gets like this at times. Around once a month, close to his payday. He's paid too little, you see, and at times it enrages him."
I released her from her bindings and she jumped up and in a split second she had put on panties and a T shirt. The view was still lovely, as her erect nipples poked at the T shirt, and her legs are to die for. Her tiny feet looked delectable, painted with candy apple red nail polish except for one toe which was painted royal blue. Even her panties were cute; not so much sexy, as cute, but it didn't matter because the view of her naked, all laid out on the bed, ready to be ravished, was burned into my brain at this point.
Oh yes, not that it matters either, I guess, but Anna also has a pretty face. Her black eyes from one of her previous fights with Allan had healed, revealing irises colored a beguiling chameleon gray, that sometimes was blue, sometimes was green, depending on her clothes and eye make-up. Her T shirt was forest green at the time, and therefore so too were her eyes.
One time, at the Italian market when I chanced to run into her, I was startled to realize she had one green eye and one blue eye. Upon closer inspection, as Anna giggled at my bewilderment, I realized she had worn a sweater which was sky blue on one half, and Kelly green on the other half. In addition, she was wearing coordinated eye shadow, and hence the illusion of two eyes of different colors.
"Do you like it?" Anna had asked me.
"Your two eyes of different colors?" She nodded. "Well, it makes you look unusual, that's for sure," I replied.
"Do I look pretty with eyes of different colors?" she perseverated.
"Anna, you cannot help but look pretty. You don't even have to try," I said, which was totally the wrong thing to say, as Anna blushed with embarrassment and basically ran away from me. The girl was shy, or so I believed until now.
Anyway, back to her bedroom with Anna dressed in a T shirt and panties: Anna's hair was a golden blonde, long and lush, and brushed to a lovely sheen. She had a long, Roman nose which fit her narrow, oval shaped face to perfection. I shook my head, trying to remove the image of her bound, naked body. That image was just not going to leave my head! I was okay with that, actually.
