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Listening with Intent

"Oh Wall, oh sweet, oh lovely Wall, show me thy chink, to listen through with mine ear!"

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Contrary to popular belief, being a private detective is not glamorous.  Most of my work involves marital disputes or proving infidelity.  Not being a balding older male with a shabby raincoat helps, as no-one suspects a young and, so I’m told, attractive female, to be in my line of business.

It does have its temptations, as quite often the subject of my investigation is extremely hot and gaining the right evidence can make me very horny and frustrated, yearning for a piece of the action that plays out through my lens or the video footage I collect with my extensive kit of video and sound recording gear.

Last week, I was on yet another case of a wife suspecting her husband of having an affair and wanting proof to help her get a good deal in the divorce court.  I had followed the target and overhead him book a hotel room for that afternoon.

Pretending to be his wife I found the room number and, convincing a room-service maid to let me into the room, I left a tiny camera that would broadcast any action for me to collect nearby; I wouldn’t try to pick up the camera once the job was done.

Sitting in the car in the pouring rain for hours waiting for him to check in was soul-destroying.  I’d completed a crossword and a super-fiendish su doku and read three chapters of my book.  Just when I was thinking of calling it a day, through the audio link, I heard a door slam.

Pressing record on my system, I watched with more interest and the hope that he was a one-minute wonder if he was up to no good so I could go home.  No such luck, or wow what luck depending on your point of view.

This guy was handsome and having trailed him already, I knew that he would be in my fantasies, at least until the next one came along.  But the girl that followed him into the room was absolutely stunning.  She was tall, elegant and expensively dressed.

The envelope he handed over to her confirmed my unkind thoughts, while wondering if his wife would be more forgiving of him paying for the sex he perhaps wasn’t getting at home, rather than falling in love with someone else.

All thoughts went out of my mind as I watched her secrete the envelope in her purse, not checking the contents, which told me they had done this before, and she trusted him.  Kicking off her shoes, she turned and waited as he approached her, unzipping the dress at the back and letting it fall to the floor.

I stopped breathing and waited.  Motionless for a while, he stood and stared at the beautiful tanned body in front of him, the expensive underwear before his eyes froze on her beautiful bottom, perfectly displayed by the thong that divided her mouth-watering arse cheeks.

He ran the back of his index finger slowly down her back, and she visibly shivered in response; natural or professional didn’t matter to me, and almost certainly to him too.  Unclipping her bra, he let it fall to the floor and moved in close behind her, wrapping his arms around her front and cupping her breasts.  She tilted her head back in response and they kissed.

Moving to the bed, he stood as she undressed him, and I watched in awe as his boxers were finally removed and his manhood bounced into the open, bobbing in the air as if seeking a target, which I guess is exactly what it was doing.

She turned and bent over the bed so he could remove her thong.  Sinking to his knees, my target showed for the camera that he was an arse man at heart.  With enormous reverence, he hooked two fingers into the waistband of her thong and pulled it down and off, taking a moment to relish its scent, before casting it aside and placing his hands on each cheek of her bum.

I had to reposition the trousers I was wearing as I was getting very turned on by what I was witnessing, and my knickers were cutting into my soaking pussy.  I put a hand inside to sort out the discomfort, taking the opportunity to rub my clit a few times, enough to take me close, but also not too much so that I could claim to myself that I remain professional at all times.

Back to the action.  I knew I shouldn’t record the whole evening or night’s event to provide the proof, but I did need to see them fuck as I had once stopped too early in the process, only for the target to claim, like Bill Clinton, that he ‘didn’t have sex with that woman.’  Like hell, he didn’t!

To my delight, the scene I was able to capture was him taking her from behind.  My camera was off-centre and so perfectly placed to see his cock slipping perfectly, if condom-covered, into her wet snatch.  Natural wet or professionally prepared wet, again mattered to neither of us, as slipping in perfectly, he did.

To this point, nothing had been said but now the voices became clear through my microphone.  “My God, the view from here …” he said as he pounded her pussy.  “That’s it,” she replied, “keep that up, I love it!”

I keep a small towel in my car to dry the windows and slipped it under my bottom as I was sure I was soaked through and didn’t want to stain the seat.  ‘Nearly there,’ I thought, then I can go home and deal with this.

Turning back to the small screen, I watched as he approached what would probably be his first cum of the night.  My eyes flicked between the sight of his cock appearing and disappearing and the gorgeous globes of the escort’s arse.

I’ve never understood men who like to cum anywhere but where nature intended, or women who like to be sprayed with cum for the same reason, but just as I was expecting those glorious final animalistic strokes with the accompanying groans, he pulled out, whipped off the condom, and with a couple of stokes with his hand, sprayed an impressive load right up her back, with two aftershocks landing on her buttocks.

He collapsed on the bed while the escort got up and I assume went to the bathroom to clean up.  She returned shortly afterwards and lay beside him as he rested.  This was all I needed, at least professionally, but my personal needs could only be dealt with at home.

After that, I needed a good fucking, but my boyfriend, Mike, was out with his mates and wouldn’t be back until late.  Needing a release of some sort, I decided to dedicate my evening to myself.  I ran a bath, poured a glass of wine and with some candles lit, wallowed in the hot water, sipping the wine and thinking about what I would do to myself before Mike got home.

As the water cooled, I got out, dried myself and went into my bedroom.  The heating had been on and it was beautifully warm, so I got out my favourite vibe and lay back on the bed, ready for action, all my senses buzzing even without the vibe, in over-eager anticipation.

Lying back on the bed, I started to get mentally into the zone, an important precursor to self-pleasure.  As my mind wandered, I thought I heard something.  Sitting up, I realised the sound was coming through the wall from my neighbours; they were having sex!

‘Perhaps the day will end well after all,’ I thought, and strolled, still naked to my box of tricks and found the clever device that records conversation, and anything else going on, through a wall.  It works well and would make my masturbation session so much more pleasurable.

I put the receiver against the wall, plugged my headphones into the other socket and tied a silk scarf around my head so I had no sight and could concentrate totally on the sound of what was happening next door and nothing else.

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Thankfully it sounded as if I had caught them in the very early stages of their lovemaking.  I lay still and listened.  “You are so beautiful,” I heard my neighbour say, and I giggled when I heard her answer, “Fuck that, just get your clothes off and your head between my legs!”

There followed a rustling of clothes and a deep sigh from her, “oh yes, that’s it, right there.”

I wallowed in the sounds coming through the wall and with my blindfold and headphones, it was as if I was in the room with them.  I pinched my nipples and felt the all too powerful sensations rocket down to my core and the glorious feeling of my pussy getting wet and ready for some action of its own.

Leaving one hand on a breast, my fingers danced down my stomach, teasing myself but knowing exactly where they were heading.  I waited until I heard the first full-on moan from next door and imagined his ministrations were for me alone.  I touched my clit and gasped with pleasure.

More rustling from next door and her voice, as clear as a bell, saying, “No more, I don’t want to come yet, let me do it for you,” and I could hear them kissing passionately and imagined her tasting her sweet self on his mouth as they kissed.  The strangulated gurgles that followed projected an image onto my mind of her head bobbing up and down on his engorged cock.

History repeated itself as he then said, “No more, I don’t want to come yet either – I want to fuck that sweet wet pussy of yours and fill you with my cum.  On your knees girl and show me that arse of yours.”

More rustling of bedclothes gave a vivid impression of her getting into the ready position as a gasp of pleasure told me he had entered her from behind in one sweet stroke.

My fingers took over as I listened to the wonderful slapping of his body against her raised bottom, slowly at first and as their voices both increased in volume, the speed of slapping sounds increased in equal measure.

“I’m almost there,” she croaked.  “Tell me when,” he replied, clearly and deliciously in control of his body.  “Yes, oh god yes, now, fill me up, oh so good,” she almost yelled and as I heard the guttural moan of his orgasm overwhelm him, my first orgasm hit, and I too cried out in release.  I so needed that and lay there listening to the gorgeous small talk going on next door – two people so in love and having just made love and not just fucked for the sake of it.

As I listened, I heard the door of my room click shut.  Mike was home, earlier than expected, and thankfully he knew I was an inveterate masturbator so wouldn’t have been surprised at the vision I presented.

Without taking off either my blindfold or headphones, I called to him, “Eat me out, please, I’ve just had the most glorious cum listening to them fucking next door and I’m on a high.  Eat me, and then you can do what you like with me, I’m so horny.”

Pushing my knees apart, to expose my pussy in the most wanton way I could, I waited.  Not being able to hear much I assumed the delay was him getting undressed.   Then I felt his breath on my gaping sex and his tongue began to work its magic.  Oh wow, my earlier orgasm must have heightened my senses as this was better than ever.

All too quickly I could feel my pulse race as my second orgasm approached.  “Yes, like that, finger, arse, now, please,” and as I felt his finger, soaked in my pussy juices slip into my bottom, I came like a steam train.

Then I heard the door click again and panicked.  There was still in a finger up my arse so there was no way Mike could have shut the door.

I pulled off the cover over my eyes as well as the headphones and saw to my horror and delight, that the finger in my bum belonged to my naked flatmate Chloe, and that Mike was standing near the end of the bed, trousers and boxers on the floor and was stroking a very hard erection.

“Hi folks,” I stuttered, “I had a stressful day and was just relieving some tension, I hope you don’t mind.”

Laughter broke the spell and Chloe said, “I heard some noises from your room and thought you were in trouble.  When I came in, you demanded I eat you out.  I’ve wanted to do that for so long, and thought you’d come around to the idea too!”

“Mike?” I asked, and he jabbered in reply, “I just got home early having weighed up my options – blokes in the pub vs hot pussy here – no contest.  Little did I guess I’d get two for the price of one.”

“What do you want Chloe, I owe you?” I asked, and without a glimmer of delay, she whispered so that Mike wouldn’t hear, “I really need cock after that, I’m so horny.”

“OK,” I said so they could both hear, “Mike, you have my permission to fuck that sweet cunt that’s blinking at you from Chloe’s raised arse, but on one condition.  You make her cum hard, but don’t cum yourself, that’s for me.  Cum in her pussy and you’ll get no sex for a week.”

The record for solving Rubik’s Cube is 4.2 seconds.  I reckon Mike was naked in 4.0 and his cock embedded in Chloe’s cunt by 4.1 seconds.

I expected to be incredibly jealous of my boyfriend servicing the needs of my flatmate, but somehow the endorphins flowing around my system left me floating in a miasma of delicious sex and as Chloe edged me to another climax with her expert tongue, I watched as Mike pounded her from behind.  It all seemed so natural.

All too soon, and when I was on the edge of coming, Chloe stopped as a powerful orgasm ripped through her body and I witnessed her shaking uncontrollably and heard the same cries I had heard through her bedroom wall from time-to-time, whether she was alone or with a boy or girlfriend.

Full credit to Mike.  I think he was distracting himself by singing Good King Wenceslas or some such in his head but somehow he staved off his orgasm, and as Chloe rolled over onto the bed, Mike positioned himself above me and in the good old missionary position, his cock, slick with Chloe’s juices, he slid so easily into my waiting slit.

He knows what I like and started with just the head of his cock at my opening.  In and out, oh so gently, before suddenly thrusting in, full-length, before pulling out and starting again.

This was too much for me, I just needed to be fucked and to cum.  “Not this time, Mike, just do me and hard.”

I looked across at Chloe who had one hand between her legs, a blur as she masturbated over the sight before her.  Mike and I looked each other in the eye, and he built up the pressure and speed of his long, deep thrusts and, knowing each other so well, we could sense the end was near and that we could both synchronise our orgasms.

They hit.  I cried out at the same time as Mike, and Chloe followed with her own special cry of pleasure.  Our combined shrieks must have been quite loud because as we all flopped onto the bed, sated and exhausted, we heard a little round of applause through the wall.

The day that had started so badly in the rain, had ended with the most intense and enjoyable sexual delight to date, and the start of something new.  If Mike is away, Chloe and I now make love and sleep together, and sometimes she joins Mike and me for a threesome.  Not often enough to risk my relationship with Mike, but enough to add a frisson of pleasure.

Thank you, neighbours; I rather suspect we each listen to the other now.  Auralism they call it, and it certainly works for me.

 

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Written by literot
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