I sighed and flopped down on the soft mattress. Damn, what a difference a shower can make!
This hostel was not exactly the lap of luxury, but it beat the pants off the loud, weaving, overcrowded bus. And surprisingly, the bunks were made for two, so Evan and I would get to sleep together for a change...without even skirting the rules!
I pulled the curtain closed. This lower bunk was just a foam mattress on the floor with an amateurly-constructed box around it. I just hoped it didn't overheat at night. While waiting for Evan to finish his shower, I plugged in my phone and started my normal Facebook rituals.
And then I stopped. It was low, quiet, but it was there -- that familiar sound of discreet kissing, and the murmurs of sweet nothings. My body instinctively froze, my ears straining.
I hadn't paid much attention to other people in the room when we'd arrived. The curtain next door was probably drawn anyway. I had no idea who these people were, but I was catching snippets of their most intimate whisperings. It felt a bit shameful to eavesdrop so, but also intrinsically thrilling.
I couldn't make out the words that came between light smooching sounds. It may have even been a different language. That didn't much matter, though. The sensuality with which those whispers were voiced was a universal language. It spoke of desire, of quietly exploring fingers, of flicks of tongue against earlobe and light grazing of teeth along burning skin. I knew that language and hearing it mere centimeters away ignited a familiar flame in my core.
Gone were my laments about the bus ride. My muscles no longer ached. Taking that sensation's place was an aching of a different kind. A series of light plosive sounds that could only be kisses between soft lips crossed the thin wooden wall. Try though I might to suppress it, my quiet lust rose with each one.
It's a strange thing, the way lust travels. We all say lust rises, but the sensation is one of descending -- submerging like a submarine from the lump in your throat, past your sternum, and around the increasing frequency of your heartbeat. As those subdued kiss sounds gave way to the more frantic, less subtle noises of uncontrollable sexual fervor, my own lust descended into my belly. It was warm and spread in tendrils throughout my abdomen. I tried desperately not to let my own physical arousal drown out the auditory sexuality of my neighbors, because I knew it was only going to get more intense.
As if in answer to my thoughts, the next sound was not lips but bodies. They were shifting, skin moving about on the cotton sheets or perhaps even clothing being dragged away from important flesh.
As one might expect, that was followed by more kisses -- likely availing themselves of newly-available targets. Short intakes of breath confirmed that those kisses were having the intended effect. The moans and murmurs were stifled -- due no doubt to the setting -- but unmistakable. It drove those tendrils of lust into a directed assault down within my pelvis.
Quite unbidden, my hips started rocking fore and aft. I was struck by the conspicuous absence of Evan's body against mine. I rarely reached this level of carnality without his body on me or in me.
The unexpected explosion of arousal within my core had taken over more of my motor functions than I'd like to admit. Mere minutes of overhearing another couple's own cupidity had put me in a fervor usually reserved for carefully planned evenings in. I could feel my love canal expanding and lubricating itself, anticipating the engorged attention it was certain it deserved.
But that attention wasn't here. Evan was no doubt rinsing the soap off his important organs at this moment, but that did nothing to relieve my frustrations.
A tiny smacking sound. An audible pluck from puckered lips. Somehow my hand wound up on my breast, kneading it through the thin fabric of my dress, pulling lightly at my nipple.
The sounds continued, intensifying in zeal if not in volume. My hips oscillated along the mattress, desperately wishing something extra was buried within them.
More shifting. A giggle. I pulled at my nipple, grateful that I hadn't put on a bra.
More mouth sounds. This time, though, it sounded less like kissing and more like tongues on moist regions. I could practically smell Evan's loins as I listened. As if I could just reach out my tongue and duplicate the actions on the other side of the partition.
It wasn't just one-sided though. There were no more whispers -- only the telltale sounds of tongues and nose-breathing. Those were good sounds that I knew well.
There was a little cry of pleasure that was muffled more by the obstruction in her mouth than any attempt to stay quiet. They were likely too far gone to care about discretion. Hell, I was nearly that far gone myself.
Whether it continued for minutes or seconds, I really didn't know. But ultimately, of course, the scuffling sounds returned. Bodies were being realigned to take the next step. I forced my hips to slow, listening intently.
There it was. The subdued "ahhh" that marked every initial penetration. My fingers were between my thighs now. On the other side of that thin board a man's cock was sliding in and out of his woman's dripping pussy and I desperately needed to feel the same.
