Aureur. I am an aureur. I know it's not an accepted word, but I like it. The official term is
auditory voyeur
, but that is a stupid phrase. I like to listen to people having sex without being able to see them, so I have to imagine what is happening. Sure, I like seeing naked women, but my real fetish is hearing them during passion.
My day job is an accountant at the hospital in Ames, Iowa. I am 47, single and I live alone. That leaves me enough time to work out at the gym almost every day, so I am in very good shape. It helps motivate me to listen to women who grunt while they work out. I know it is not actually sexual, but it is reminiscent enough to be exciting. And I bet it is what they sound like in bad.
I have a simple lifestyle, which leaves me money to pursue my passion. I spend all three weeks of vacation a year and some long weekends, staying in hotels, hoping for noisy neighbors.
Sometimes I am lucky and have a noisy neighbor, other times I am disappointed. I also spend some time during the day doing touristy things, so I can tell people at work about my trip.
I am getting better about picking which hotels and when are more likely to have amorous guests. Family hotels are obviously a bad choice. Business travelers are usually alone, although some of the prostitutes they hire can put on a good show. And I feel weird being the only single person at a hotel aimed at honeymooners. But I admit, I have done it. And it was worth it. Newlyweds can be very passionate.
When I stumbled across the convention in Grand City, it was a definite must. I will stay a few days after the meeting to see Grand City and fill my touristing quotient. A whole floor of a hotel filled with sex-crazed people should be a non-stop symphony of erotic sounds.
The flyer says the convention opens Friday evening with a meet and greet from 7-10. I am not big on socializing, but I would like a chance to see who is there. I can then try to imagine which of them I am hearing.
I check into the hotel at 7:00 and drop my bag in the room. Unsurprisingly, the floor where the conventioneers are staying is deserted. Everyone else is down in the ballroom. The rooms seem fairly standard modern hotel style, probably no extra sound insulation. Some hotels have taken to trying to deaden sound. If that catches on, my reason for living is lost.
I bite the bullet and head to the ballroom. I check in for the convention, getting my name tag and a bag of basic swag. I look around at my fellow conventioneers. It is about 50-50 male-female split. Most of the women are in very revealing clothing; even I enjoy the view.
I grab a scotch on the rocks from the bar and fill a plate at the buffet. Looking around the room, they obviously left one corner relatively dark. I find an empty table back there and set my drink and plate down.
I take a sip of my drink and close my eyes and just listen. There are people at most of the tables around me, but I think I am the only one who is alone. At some tables, lovers to be are whispering sweet nothings to each other. One woman is describing what she intends to do to her companion later that night. In glorious explicit detail.
Others are doers, not talkers. There are several couples kissing. I can hear the distinctive sounds of a blow job a few tables away. And to the other side, the scintillating sounds of a woman softly moaning. I do not know if her lover is male or female, but I imagine they are suckling on a breast, while a hand is in her pussy, bringing her the pleasure behind those moans.
I try to focus my listening on them. Am I imagining it, or can I hear the gentle smack of her lover's lips as they come off a nipple? I think I can hear the sounds of fingers moving through her wet lips. She is obviously ready as her moans are becoming more needy. And then with a sharp yelp and a long sigh, she is done.
That exquisite symphony has already made this trip worthwhile. Those sounds are locked in my mind and I will play them back time and time again.
I open my eyes again. I do not look over to the table that has just entertained me. I don't want to see. The reality of it might break the spell the sounds have cast upon me.
Instead, I look back out over the dance floor. A visual cleanse before I listen for another aural vignette. I take another sip of my scotch and start noshing on my pate of hors d'oeuvres. There are now a few women dancing topless and one is completely nude. It is a nice view.
A small young woman comes up to me, and in an Aussie accent, asks, "Are you okay, sitting back here all by yourself?"
"I am fine. I am enjoying myself just sitting here. I am not very social."
"Are you here just to watch?"
"I actually like to listen. I find it very exciting. I like to hear women in passion. I just listened to a woman climax a few tables away. It was divine."
"Oh, kind of like a voyeur, but you listen instead of watch."
"My preferred term is aureur."
"Do you mind if I sit and listen with you for a few minutes. My friend Audrey has run off somewhere and I need a break. My name is Mary, by the way. And I will shut up now so you can listen."
She sits down next to me and closes her eyes. I start to listen again. The blow job I had heard earlier is reaching its conclusion. He groans once and then softly grunts a number of times, pumping his partner's mouth full. But I listen to hear the pleasure of women.
Then I hear the sound of a tongue licking a pussy. It must be near to be so clear. I think it is the table directly behind me. She is moaning, but in a very different manner than the previous woman. This could almost be an owl hooting, yet much more softly.
"Ooooh Oooooooh"
I hear pants falling to the ground. Her lover is a man, I can hear him penetrating her, The sound is obvious to anyone. The sloshing of his cock sliding in and out of her wet tunnel. The slapping of their skin together.
He is starting to grunt. She amps up her moaning. She is playing it up for him. He groans and the slapping stops as he pumps her full of his cum. I hear them kiss and I hear the plop as his cum slides back of her and falls on the floor. I hear his pants being pulled up and he walks away. She is still sitting there, unsatisfied. I hear her sigh.
She stands up and her footsteps hurry after her lover.
"That was amazing to listen to," Mary says. "Thank you for inviting me into your world."
I don't remember inviting her, but she is cute. And the accent is fun.
"But the bastard didn't finish her off. I wanted to hear her climax, not his."
"You're right. I hadn't really thought about it. My ex used to leave me hanging like that all the time. I love to fuck, but I want my orgasms, too. Especially chocolate cherry ones."
"Chocolate cherry orgasms? I am not very worldly, but I have never heard of that before."
"Sorry, it's a running joke I have with my best friend."
"Audrey?"
"No, Lisa, but she's not here."
"I'm Jeremy by the way. Thank you for joining me."
"I have an offer for you. I would like some relief after listening to that. Would you like to listen to me masturbate here. It would be more fun to know I was doing it for someone. For you."
"I would love that."
She flips he skirt up. She is not wearing anything under it. I watch her hand slide into her pussy before I close my eyes and focus completely on listening.
I can hear her fingers in her folds. They are getting wetter and sloppier as she works on herself. The motion is reduced now, I think she must be circling her clit. I hear a rustling of cloth. Her left hand must now be inside her halter, pinching her nipple. She has not vocalized at all but her breathing is becoming heavier, more ragged.
