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The tenants downstairs were three college girls, and, apparently on this night, one of them had her boyfriend stay over. There was complete silence in my apartment other than the low hum of the twenty-year old refrigerator in my kitchen. Silent at least until I heard a slight rhythmic tapping through the walls. The sort of tapping sound you recognize right away. This quickly turned from tapping to banging on the walls which was fairly annoying until I heard her start to moan. Instantly, I tried to put a face with the sound of her voice, but I could not figure out which girl it was. At first, she sounded like she was really enjoying it. It was beautiful, sultry with a long exhale at the end, but then her moan turned to more of a shout that quickly fell into cadence with the banging on the wall. I could not tell if she was loving it or if it was causing her pain. It sounded like she was not ready and he did not care. It was over pretty quickly and I assumed the poor girl did not get. Every curve of my body was held in the cockles of my bedding. The swell of my breasts rose and fell with every shaky breath. It had been ages since I had last spent time exploring my own body. My trembling fingers slid down my body. Starting at the top of my neck they danced down the length of my shoulders before dipping between my blushing D cup breasts. Taking a moment I moved the tip of my fingers around the hardened pink nubs of my nipples. They stood at definite attention, begging for some love and affection. Giving into the desires I twisted them roughly, a harsh breath escaping my lips soon after. My thighs flexed on their own, begging anything to please the itch between my legs. Forcing my hands to move further I let my fingers cascade over the taut skin of my stomach and down the edge of my thighs. Although I wanted to slide between them I refused to give myself the pleasure and instead spread them wide. The cold wind hit the sensitive skin buried between my thighs. Grabbing.
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