It started on the elevator. I was riding it with our neighbor in our large apartment building. It was the usual thing, us both staring at the numbers going up and not looking at each other. He cleared his throat.
"You know, our walls are pretty thin."
"I'm sorry?" I said, startled from my elevator induced coma.
"Oh, no need to be sorry." He shot me a lecherous grin and went back to looking at the numbers.
There was a ding and the doors opened. I told him to have a nice night and he said the same.
The evening was uneventful from there until the kids were tucked in and I told Mary what happened in the elevator. She set her book aside and looked up, interested.
"You mean he can hear us? Through the wall?" Her toes wiggled against my leg.
"I guess so. Our bedroom must be next to his bedroom. I mean, we hear his TV sometimes and remember that phase where we was practicing his trombone?"
She got quiet, chewing the inside of her lip and looking at her hands.
"That's sort of hot, Mark," she almost whispered.
"What? It's hot that a slightly skeevy neighbor listens in on us doing it? I think it's a little gross!"
She rubbed her knees together slowly and gave me a long, flirty stare.
She pushed her breasts together with her arms and rubbed down her thighs with her hands. In a movie starlet voice she cooed, "To think all this time he's been listening to little old me moaning and groaning on top of your big, thick cock. Or even worse, listening to me ride that giant vibrator you got me for Christmas as I make myself cum and cum and cum. The poor man must be ready to explode!"
She laughed and I threw a pillow at her. She kicked me and I grabbed her legs. We wrestled and then we kissed and then I pulled her shirt up and roughly handled her breasts. She whispered in my ear "Shhhh, we have to be very quiet," and then she bit me hard on my ear lobe.
"I'll get you for that," I whispered, and slid her soft little pajama shorts down to her ankles. I lifted up on them so her legs were bound together and started licking her pussy for all I was worth. She wiggled and gasped, giggled and moaned. She folded her knees up to her chest so she could grab my shoulders and urge me on. She came, biting her lips to quiet her screams. I kissed her softly while she came down.
She stood up, dropped her clothes on the carpet and said, "Let's finish this in the bedroom."
I followed, of course.
It went on like this for a couple of months. Sometimes she'd tease me about "keeping the volume down for Bobby" and then other times she'd scream like she wanted the world to know she was having an orgasm. It seemed to get her hot knowing we had a third character in our sex lives even if he was passive and on the other side of layers of drywall.
One Thursday I came home early from work when I knew she'd be home. I thought maybe we could have a little sex in the daytime without any sleeping children to worry about. As I was unlocking the door, I could hear her very vocal moans coming from the bedroom. I shook my head and smiled and walked back to find her on her back with her vibrator putting on a show for our neighbor through the wall.
She was screaming and moaning, saying, "Oh yes! This is the best I've ever had. I'm gonna cum again, Mark!"
I watched her rattle and shake her way through it from the doorway and was rewarded with a startled scream when her eyeballs rolled back around to the front of her head and saw me standing there. "Jesus, Mark, you scared the shit out of me!"
"That's hardly my fault. You were so in the throes of your performance, I didn't want to interrupt."
She warmed up and crawled toward me to the foot of the bed. "Let's see what presents you brought home for me," she said, as her hands undid my belt and zipper. "Oooh, it's just what I asked for."
