Hotel Voyeur

It was supposedly a "boutique hotel" housed in a 19th-century mansion, but the place just looked old. That's one of the downsides of working for a small business - travel is done on the cheap. After checking in, I climbed the old wooden stairs to my room on the first floor. As I unlocked the door of room 5, the door of the next room opened a fraction. A middle-aged man peered out and then quickly closed the door.

After dinner I went for a walk, and even though it was still relatively early, I decided to go to bed. I always have trouble sleeping away from home and I had some important meetings the next day. I had a shower, and naked, I slipped between the sheets. I propped two pillows up against the railings of the brass bedhead which was in keeping with the faux antique style of the room.

I can't have been asleep long when loudish music and a rattling sound woke me. The sounds came from room 4, my middle aged neighbour's room, and over the music I could hear a male and female voice. It seemed he had company! Listening more closely, I could hear gasps, groans and the occasional laugh. I don't know about you, but I love listening to the sounds of sex, and though I wasn't certain that was what they were doing, my dick was already beginning to stiffen.

I climbed out of bed, and stood next to the bedhead. Even with my ear close to the wall, I still couldn't be sure. Slowly and carefully, so as not to cause the old floor to creak, I went to the door and opened it slightly. The door of the adjoining room couldn't have been more than a couple of metres away, and now I could hear more clearly. The gasps and groans were definitely the sounds of a couple fucking. They must be doing it on the bed - the rattling was the railings of the bedhead shaking.

Standing behind my door, I began to stroke my dick. It still wasn't easy to hear over the music. I wondered if I dared to stand outside the couple's door. Being an old hotel there were no security cameras in the corridors. On the other hand, at any moment, a guest could come out of their room or walk up the stairs. I went over to my bag and took out a pair of boxers which I pulled up over my erection. As I stepped out onto the landing, I left the door slightly ajar, so I could retreat quickly if need be. I crept to within an arm's length of my neighbour's door.

He must have been fucking her from behind because I could hear the rhythmical slap of his thighs against her ass. "Harder," she said, whimpering. She sounded so desperate to cum - almost in pain. Listening to her frustration only served to fuel my arousal and I stroked furiously until I came all over the inside of my boxers.

I could hear her wetness as he continued to thrust into her and her little squeals, increasing in pitch. Finally, she let out a shriek, followed by a gasp from him, and they were done.

I'd been so absorbed in listening, it was only after they had come that I began to pay attention to my surroundings. Anybody in the nearby rooms who was still awake could have heard her cum, so I decided to return to my room just in case a fellow guest chose to investigate.

I wiped the cum off my cock with my boxers and climbed back into bed. Now that they'd finished, the music had been turned off. I've never understood why people think music conceals the sounds of sex. Years ago I'd stayed at a "budget" hotel in London. One of the rooms on my floor had been occupied by a young German couple. Every time they shagged, they turned on the cheap clock radio - the kind you find in hotel rooms around the world. I imagine pretty much everyone on the floor soon knew what the music meant. One day, I'd exchanged a knowing smile with a woman I passed in the corridor as music blared out from their room.

I don't know whether I dozed or not, but before long I again heard the tell-tale rattle of next door's bedhead. No music this time, so I didn't have to get out of bed to listen. "Lean forward, I want to suck your tits," I heard him say.

She must be riding him. Perhaps I had been dozing, because the volume of the moans and groans suggested that round two had been under way for some time.

"Fuck me harder," the female voice commanded.

The bedhead started banging against the wall. Still, worrying about the noise they were making was probably the last thing on their minds.

I wonder what they would have thought if they knew I'd blown my load on the doona cover at the same time as they came? Would that have turned them on and maybe spurred them to go again? I'd often stayed in hotels and heard couples in adjoining hotel rooms having sex. That made me wonder if it was just a coincidence, or if one couple only started after hearing their neighbours fucking. Sometimes it sounded like they were trying to see who could make the most noise.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door to room 4 opening. I hurried to the peep hole in my door and looked out. She paused for a moment almost in front of my door to fiddle with her clothing. Grasping the sides of her t-shirt and the bra underneath, she pulled the band down before repositioning the cups to better accommodate her large boobs. Her bra did nothing to conceal the hardness of her nipples. I could feel my dick stirring again as I imagined what it would be like to suck on them, as my neighbour had just done. She pushed her long, dark hair back off her face and I could see her full, red lips. I thought what it would be like to have them wrapped around my cock before cumming down her throat. She fiddled with the waistband of her skirt before walking to the stairs. It may have been my imagination, but she seemed to descend the stairs a little gingerly. Perhaps the night's activities had taken their toll.

She had to be 20 years younger than my neighbour. And she was leaving in the middle of the night. Had this been a paid encounter? Maybe he was also on a business trip and had taken the opportunity to cheat on his wife.

My first meeting next day wasn't until 10.00 a.m., so I didn't leave the hotel until after 9.00. As I shut my door, I saw the door to room 4 was wide open. A cleaner's trolley stood alongside the doorway and as I moved closer, I saw two condom wrappers in the trolley's waste bin. No sign of the cleaner, so I took the opportunity to have a quick look inside.

As I had guessed from the noise last night, the room was a mirror image of my room. The beds were back to back, which would make it difficult to have sex without the neighbours hearing. The sheets and doona had been pushed down to the bottom of the bed, exposing a large, slightly damp circular mark on the fitted sheet. It looked too big to be a cum stain. Had the woman peed or ejaculated when she came?

Just as I turned to leave, I saw a bit of white fabric poking out from between the end of the mattress and the bed clothes. I tugged on the fabric and discovered a pair of white boyshorts, with a small tear in one leg and a faint yellow stain in the crotch. It seemed last night's visitor had left some of her clothing behind, though perhaps, seeing they were ripped, she had been that bothered. I slipped them into the inside pocket of my suit coat.

As I passed reception at the foot of the stairs, the receptionist was playing with her phone. "Have a nice day," she said, insincerely, barely looking up from the screen.

"I already have," I said, flashing her a smile.