It made me feel such a voyeur, but I couldn't help it. What was I supposed to do -- go to bed wearing earplugs, or playing music at loud volume? My flatmate Victoria was putting me nightly through erotic hell. She'd return home each evening with her new girlfriend, and the two of them would proceed to have very noisy sex together for what seemed like hours. Her room was immediately next to mine, and through the paper-thin walls my attempts at sleep were continually interrupted by the two women's drawn-out, hysterical orgasms. Even before the advent of the girlfriend, I knew fair well that Victoria is not exactly coy, or discreet, when it comes to sex. And it's surprisingly difficult to drift off when all you clearly hear is her moan "oh yes, baby, your tongue feels so good in my cunt."
Especially so if you're feeling particularly sexually frustrated. I hadn't seen much action for ages, and my quiet, nay silent, lovelife made the cause of my ruined sleep that much harder to bear. It did nothing for my morale that the cause of my enforced, agonising, celibacy was my own lack of self-confidence. I've never regarded myself as good-looking, which deters me from taking the initiative. To be fair, I'm plain, rather than hideous, although decidedly chubby. Secretly I've always been rather proud of my breasts, and I've never had any complaints from girls who enjoy very big nipples.
I felt guilt too at my envy, as I lay, alone, listening to the passionate love-making a few feet away. In truth, I was jealous of Victoria, and Nicola, the girlfriend. She was physically just my type: short and curvy, with glasses and curly collar-length dark hair, and a vague air of earthy wickedness about her. Not that I ever saw much of her, though. She and Victoria would come in and immediately retire to their room, take their clothes off, and have sex. Presumably, they just couldn't wait a single moment longer for each others vagina.
My name is Beth, and I'd known Victoria for six months previously, since the time I'd moved in to the flat, in Queens Park, west London. The possibility of there being anything between the pair of us, before Nicola came on the scene, had never been on the agenda. In fact, there was no real reason why there should, and it was just a coincidence that we shared both a flat and an orientation. In terms of personal compatibility criteria, it was the rather mundane fact we were both smokers, rather than both being lesbians, which matched us up to live together.
Victoria had never displayed the merest hint of interest in me. If she had, I probably would have responded, but it would have to have been her who made the move. I'm rubbish at pulling, and the other woman always has to take charge.
Victoria is in her late twenties, about the same age as Nicola, and a year or so younger than me, but quite different in appearance from both of us. She's tall, taut, athletic and finely honed from the gym, albeit with a fairly generous looking bosom, and long strawberry-blonde hair. Neither she nor I were naturally were squeamish about nudity, but we'd wear towels or gowns to and from the bathroom, and never genuinely seen each other naked. Except the once, when I badly needed the loo and Victoria let me enter the bathroom although she was still in the shower. She had her back turned to me, and I generally averted my gaze, until I could resist it no longer and stole a furtive glimpse of the water cascading down her magnificent buttocks.
Although Victoria is a genuinely very attractive woman by anyone's standards, I'd never consciously fancied her, or wanted her -- until Nicola came on the scene. Their constant sex piqued my frustrated lust, and my curiosity about their sumptuous bodies. More and more I found myself imagining what Victoria looked like nude from the front, and what delicious secrets lay within Nicola's underwear. Pathetically, I began to fantasize about what they looked like when they were fucking.
Not absolutely everything had to be left to the imagination. I was unlikely to forget a particular morning, about four weeks after they started going out. They were clearly still utterly in lust with each other, still having sex at absolutely every conceivable opportunity. As before, they'd no sooner have closed the bedroom door than their ecstatic moans began to emerge from it, and continue for hours until, eventually, they went quiet and presumably went to sleep. Then early next morning I could hear the precise moment when they woke up and carried on where'd they left off the previous night. I'd never come across two women with such a capacity for so many very long climaxes. What on earth were they doing to each other? I know I'm a little naïve, but still, the mind boggled.
Anyway, that morning was a good example of Victoria and Nicola's brazenness. They'd come in to the sitting room straight after sex, as they quite often did, for their post-coital cigarettes. Nicola was sitting right next to me, and my nostrils told me she'd just had a very wet orgasm. I couldn't believe how blatant they were, sitting next to me just moments after they'd come, clad only in dressing gowns they'd hastily thrown on, with their hair tousled, faces sweaty, and both still slightly panting. Even more unbelievable, I saw a trickle of something wet sliding down the inside of Victoria's exposed thigh. But what I saw next really made me gawp. Nicola cared so little about being discreet in front of me, had put her gown on so carelessly, that as she leant forward for the ashtray, her entire left breast popped out. It was so lovely and big, and the nipple so beautiful, I couldn't help but stare. I wanted to see the other one, too. And when Victoria noticed and pointed it out, Nicola just giggled and left her dress unadjusted, clearly thinking there was nothing strange at all in leaving one of her massive tits fully exposed to me.
But that vignette was surpassed by what I witnessed the following weekend. I returned home from Camden market at Saturday lunchtime -- to find them on the couch, snogging passionately. Nicola was lovingly cupping Victoria's face in her hands, and they were both murmuring softly. But then I noticed that Victoria had her right hand inside Nicola's bra, vigorously fondly that same breast I'd seen the previous week. Victoria spotted me then, and they broke from the kiss to say hello to me -- before their mouths found each other again and they just continued where they left off. Despite the fact I was standing right in front of them, Victoria continued to work her girlfriend's tits while they kissed. But that wasn't the end of it. Unbelievably, Nicola slid her left hand inside Victoria's leggings and began massaging her crotch. She could quite plausibly have penetrated her. It could hardly have been more brazen, and I actually thought they were going to fuck there and then, with me watching, before the women finally dragged themselves off giggling to Vicky's room
One particular Friday evening I returned home about eleven, after a few drinks with friends, and went to bed. Victoria was home and her door closed. I undressed and got under the covers, despite being not quite ready for sleep. I felt even less ready for sleep when the performance began from next door. On this occasion, they really excelled themselves. Never had their cries been louder, or their dirty talk more distinct. Their running commentary on their love-making made me erotically intrigued; I could only half-guess from their filthy little words of guidance to each other what they were actually doing.
