The past three nights I had spent in my bed, eagerly hoping. Returning to my student apartment after a Christmas week at my parents, I had had a glimmer of hope that my room mate would hit the new year running. But this fourth night hadn't brought any luck yet.
I was stretched out on my back, feet over the edge of the bed onto the floor, pants around my ankles - one under my head, the other cupping my balls, and imagining the past half year.
Moving in with a stranger for a flat share wasn't abnormal for someone beginning a new university, but the housing was a bit different. This was an older apartment being turned into student flat, which meant the original one large bedroom had been split into two, both barely reaching two meters in width. A new door had been set into my room, which meant I had gotten direct access to the kitchen, while Orin had to walk through the original hallway. Dividing the two rooms was the cheapest drywall the owner could find, which meant that most sounds ran straight through. It was cheap rent, though, so we stuck with it.
For everyday practices, we had figured most things. We only listened to music or movies on headphones, we tried keeping other sounds down, and he had even gotten himself those strips to stop himself from snoring. Unfortunately, Orin was also a fiendishly good late night smooth talker, and certainly not a stranger to bringing people home at night.
At first, it had been annoying. I would be almost fallen asleep as he crashed, more or less inebriated or sober depending on the time and day, with someone on his arm, giggling as they tried keeping the sounds down. He certainly wasn't one for speed, and tended to draw out the act, which only annoyed me more. More than once I had knocked on the wall, as hard as I dared in fear of breaking it, with a yell of «move on!», while he pounded away at some one night stands hopeful orifice.
Not simply because of the sound. You see, another drawback of the two meter wide room is that the king size beds barely fit. We could, of course, set the beds into the middle of the room, not touching any wall, but for efficiency we both had set them in sideways, pivoting to touching three of the walls within, to get the most out of the limited floor space. This meant that whenever there was a sharp movement in one bed, it was propagated to the other.
So whenever Orin thrust into this nights lucky chosen, I moved a little. Every time he flipped his one night stand over on their knees, I was bumped adjacently. Every time his partners came, jolting in the bed, the vibrations reached me.
With time, this turned into a small ritual. I would try to lay in silence, and let the beds undulations rub the bedsheets on my balls, letting my room mates motions latently turn my limp dick into a tensed tool. Then I would lay myself on my back and move my hands up and down my shaft in the same rhythm. Something about being the third wheel turned me on, to draw from next doors sexual energy gave me my hardest erections, and my most powerful ecstacies.
I always tried cumming at the same time as one of the people next door - mostly aiming for the times of the people Orin brought home, but sometimes lasting until Orin reached his climax. I would come silently to begin with, uttering nothing as my seed sprayed, tangling into my chest hairs. But with time I realised that giving off a good moan also enforced my orgasms. My three day scruffs had, more than a dozen times, been hit with a good wad of cum - as I let out a groan. Orin always laughed when he heard it.
Me and Orin had never talked much about this, but he used to wink at me the mornings after his conquests, and we fist bumped knowingly.
But here I was, for the fourth night in a row, without anything happening. Orin had been back a week, but nothing happened. I wouldn't say I had started to depend on it, but internet porn really wasn't the same after I had gotten in to the habit of expecting the neighbourly visits this past semester.
I hadn't really been out hunting myself either, and my own sex life had been a draught for the past few months. I sighed and got out of bed, hoisted up my pants, and was met by my own face staring judgingly at me from the mirror. I took a quick shower, and went to the nearest student pub.
Two beers later my eyes met a cute girl sitting alone in the corner, in a shapely dark green dress. I raised my glass to her, and to my surprise she got up and sat down next to me. I managed to let out a confused 'Hi?', before she asked what I was having. I was transfixed by her curly dark hair and uttered 'A beer, thanks'. Two beers were ordered, one passed to me, before we cheered to 'New year, new beginnings'. Marion was just my type of girl, a rounded dark beauty, with some initiative. I wasn't socially inept, but a careful soul only rarely came up ahead in settings such as this.
The conversation flowed easily, some laughs were had, and it didn't take long before I pictured myself in steamy situations with her. Bent over my desk, leaned towards the view from my second story window onto the busy street below, her red lips around my fifth limb, her hands gripping my bedsheets, her thighs tensing to brace for my thrusts.
By the fourth beer, her hand had touched my hand several times. In a spontaneous moment, I had placed my hand on the small of her back, and she wasn't protesting. A sudden idea later we were playing a sipping version of Never have i ever, which had made us sit even closer together to keep others from hearing, giggling after giving each other ever-increasing details of our sexual escapades - or lack thereof.
'Never have I ever had sex in a public space'. She had once been taken from behind by another man in a public hedge maze. 'Never have I ever kissed a man'. I had once kissed two other men in a dare for all of us to get a blow job from a girl who was turned on by guys kissing. 'Never have I ever cum at work'. She had a vibrating egg in her desk, which she took out on slow days. 'Never have I ever fucked a room mate'. I paused, thought of Orin, and figured it might be too complicated of a story, but 'No' - but I could talk about that one time in high school when a tent buddy on a school trip had given me a handjob because he was bored. She smiled when I gave the detail that he, in lack of a towel, had licked my cum from his hand while staring me down in an attempt to be dominant. I didn't give the detail that it had worked marvelously.
