Night on the 9th

The heat travelled quickly, spreading from where my pussy clung to my now drenched boy-shorts, swirling around my clit, tingling my entire labia and then up through the walls of my core. It spread like a forest fire from there in all directions at once, shooting sparks of energy down my legs to the tips of my toes and upwards past my flat tummy, through my breasts and engorged nipples, flushing my neck a deep pink. All the while, my brain signalled the release of more hormones, flooding my body with the love chemical and making me glow. I imagined my mystery woman was there between my legs, basking in the aftermath of my orgasm, smiling up at me with a contented radiance.

I gradually became aware of my laboured breathing -- almost panting -- and couldn't have said if I'd remained quiet during the event. My mouth was agape and I shut it. As the rush that swamped my senses began to fade and my hearing returned to normal I listened through the base of the glass again. Nothing from next door. Perhaps that was it for the night.

Weakly, I stood and awkwardly clambered from the bath, my legs still unsteady. Making my way back into the bedroom I stood for a moment in the centre of the room, the rising and falling of my breasts gradually slowing as my pulse dropped. In the mirror I could make out a sheen of perspiration coating my body; it shimmered in the low light, making me look sexy; womanly; irresistible. I looked shattered and contemplated bed, but curiosity won. Resuming my position on the chair by the wall I placed the glass up against the room divide and adjusted my ear until I could hear into the room next door.

It became clear that wasn't it for the night.

My horny neighbour had begun masturbating again. I could hear the rhythmical rustling of bed sheets and the occasional spring as she rearranged her position while her fingers played their part. I guessed she was on her back again judging by the faint oohs and aaahs I could hear projected into the room, and collected by my makeshift amplifier. She was being less discreet than earlier but still very quiet compared to some people I've witnessed; I still had to strain to hear the details. Things weren't helped much by the traffic noise from the ring road below us. A motorbike decided it was going to invade the space between me and her, its engine starting low and distant then raising in pitch and intensity as it neared. I cursed the rider who seemed to enjoy shifting gears a lot; up a gear then down, then up again. He must have passed behind a building because the sound lessened momentarily before reappearing. It was only when the motorbike didn't seem to be disappearing into the night that the realisation hit me: it was her vibrator. And from the sounds of things it was powerful; probably a mains-powered wand.

Once again I was enrapt as I listened to her altering the speed of the machine to suit her thoughts. The buzz would fade in and out and change pitch as she rolled it around her pussy lips and clit, making a sound like a bee caught in an animal's mouth. The drone would occasionally all but disappear as her legs clamped up around the head, usually accompanied by a breathy sigh. As her sticky thighs flopped apart back to the bed she'd step it up a notch and groan, then back the wand off to tease herself. I don't know how she maintained that much self control; I'd have been an orgasmic wreck.

The gentle fluttering in my belly from my last orgasm began to churn again as I listened to her increasing arousal. I could feel the moisture inside me building again so I relented, stood and slid my soaked underwear to the floor, stepping out of it. I bent to retrieve the panties from the floor, my lithe legs and strong, shapely calves flexing. Bringing the garment to my face I smelled my arousal for a long moment before standing, imagining it was her I was breathing. Over in my bag in the corner I knew I'd brought my own vibrator; a much smaller affair than my neighbour's but perfect for hitting the spot. I paced over to collect it and returned to the seat, switching it on in the process. It hummed to life in my palm, tickling me.

With the glass back in position I sat totally naked in the chair listening to the woman next door. She had to also be naked by now. My free hand lazily traced the outline of my pussy lips with the vibrator, tingling and warming my centre in equal measure. The buzz echoed insistently from the walls and I wondered if it was audible next door over the sound of her much larger machine and rhythmic panting.

She began gently spanking herself; the cracks of feminine hand on flesh unmistakable through the wall. Each time she'd murmur something incomprehensible; though at one point I thought I could make out the words "dirty bitch": was she referring to herself or to me for listening?

The bed springs creaked and complained as she turned over, bottom upturned. The vibrator went up another notch and I heard some muffled but far louder groans smothered by her pillow. She spanked herself harder now, each smack echoing deliciously down the glass to my ear. What I'd give to be the one to administer the spanking. I'd only indulged in girl-on-girl a couple of times -- as a rule I prefer my sex hard and rough -- though I had thoroughly enjoyed how naughty it made me feel to be licking the pussy of another man's wife, and her me. The second time we'd pushed the boundaries a little and she had blindfolded me, barking commands and spanking my bare bottom if I didn't comply to her whims in a timely fashion. That had been both fun and intense; to have one of my senses removed and having to put all my trust in someone else to tease and maintain my arousal all evening. Thinking about that night again -- also acted out in a hotel -- brought another flood of wetness surging through my tunnel. It oozed from my puffy lips to the chair. I again wondered if my hot stranger would be averse to me turning up at her door wearing nothing but a smile and a frothing pussy. But knowing who she was might shatter the magic so I again stopped myself.

Instead I dropped to my knees next to the wall and repositioned the glass so I could continue to hear her bringing herself closer and closer to orgasm. The wand vibrator had reduced its intensity again as she languidly danced it over her clitoris, and glided it up and down her wet slit, teasing and heightening her arousal. In the short pauses between direct contact with the vibrator I could hear the smacking of her wet pussy lips and did the same to myself in unison. It felt so good, like we had an invisible connection through the wall; two lovers in complete harmony, remote controlled by shared passion.

Positioning my vibrator pointing up on the floor I manoeuvred myself over it and sank onto the phallus, gasping as it transferred its energy to my insides. It was my favourite toy when separated from my boyfriend; its lightly contoured shaft wide enough to stretch and fill me completely but not so wide that it required a hand to drive it. As I began to contract my pussy around the toy, squeezing it out of my hot channel, I'd rise enough to let it almost completely exit my body. Just as my lips gently began to draw closed to their rest state around the tip of the humming machine, I'd descend again allowing it to split me apart on the way down and massage my quivering pussy. The slow pace was at total odds to the fire raging inside me; I wanted to hammer the tool in and out of my slippery cunt and scream the place down but the restraint somehow intensified my nerve endings and made the soft, downy hairs on my back stand on end as shivers of desire travelled my spine. It was quite a challenge to slowly rock up and down while maintaining my ear contact with the glass but with a little practice I managed it.

My neighbour had racked her wand up a few notches further so the buzzing could actually be felt as well as heard through the wall. I imagined sitting behind her upturned bottom and just watching her drive herself to the edge of her sexual tether with wet slaps to her glistening mons and the insistent hum of her vibrator causing spasms of pleasure to ignite her body. How I longed to be in that position, to bend to her upturned cheeks and run my tongue over her dark, nether rosebud, tasting the muskiness of her taboo hole. Having my own bottom licked drives me wild with desire and I hoped it would do the same for her. I reached around with my spare hand and massaged the ring of muscle I found, gently probing the tip of my finger inside as I tenderly rode my toy.

The springs began to squeak rhythmically as the woman bucked her hips in response to the action of her vibrator. By now I expected her clit to be crimson and proud as the mini internal explosions grew closer together until they merged into one continuous shuddering orgasm. Her gasps were still quiet and muffled by her face buried into her pillow but they were more ragged and insistent now. The urgency for release overcoming the desire for discretion.

Just then the wand abruptly shut off. The bed springs creaked awkwardly as she scrambled from the bed and padded to the bathroom again. The creak of the bathroom door gave way to the sound of the lid against porcelain, and she sat on the toilet. I imagined fingers blurring over her clit, her head tipped back, hair tousled, lips apart as she panted heavily towards uniting the fires inside her body. I wanted to be there with her, to come when she did, so I began bouncing more forcefully on my vibrator, squeezing and releasing the walls of my aching pussy in time with my rocking. A bead of sweat trickled from my forehead as the vibrator sawed in and out of my wet tunnel. I shoved my finger further into my ass and wiggled it around, igniting the nerve endings in my bottom. I could feel the vibrator pushing insistently against my finger through the thin wall of muscle and had a hard time keeping the glass still as my insides began to converge, rolling towards my own crushing orgasm. I hoped she was close too. Her panting was increasing in frequency and I pictured her with her eyes closed flashing her whole palm rapidly over her sensitive clit. Was she thinking of me at the same time, imagining what she had driven me to doing this evening? I was making far more noise than she was: she must have heard.

Seconds later, with a long drawn out groan I heard her boil over, splashing her juice against the inside of the bowl in three intense squirts. I slammed my drenched, hairless cunt right to the floor, impaling myself fully on my toy. Its vibrating tip tickled my very centre and I shuddered as the sexual energy that had been building all evening erupted. White hot flashes of electricity surged through my entire body as the orgasm took control. The glass dropped and bounced off my knee, rolling to a stop across the room. I grabbed my tits one after the other and squeezed them hard, my nipples on fire. Time stood still; nothing existed except my roaming hands, my finger buried in my bottom and the heat radiating from my energized body. The vibrations from inside my sopping box continued to send rapid pulses the entire length of my body. I threw my head back and gave in to them, letting out a series of screams that gradually led to softer moans, then dying to whimpers of pleasure.

I'm not sure how long I sat with the vibrator humming away inside me. It felt like an hour as the waves of orgasm crashed through me, but was probably less than a minute before the sensations overwhelmed me. As the heat began to dissipate I slumped forward onto all fours and raised my pussy from the vibrator. It slithered to the floor leaving a sudden void inside me. Wetness drained from my insides and pooled on my outer lips, dribbling stickily to the carpet. My lips stayed apart for a long while, like puffy wet flower petals after rain; only gradually beginning to close after I'd reached down to silence the vibrator.

For what seemed an eternity I remained in that position. The thunder that had ravaged my body had left me both exhausted and exhilarated. The ripples were still lapping at my extremities when I finally picked myself up and tottered unsteadily to the bed, sliding between the crisp cotton sheets and drawing them to my chin. I ran my hands over my body tenderly, lazily tracing circles where the ebbs and flows of my orgasm still remained, my mind in the room next door imagining her doing the same.

I don't remember drifting off to sleep but slept soundly, waking late as the sun peeked round the curtains, casting fingers of light into the room and across the bed. My vibrator and underwear lay spent lewdly on the floor reminding me of the night's activities. I smiled and rolled over in bed, hugging the sheets. My insides felt raw yet satisfied.

Still naked, I slithered from the bed and padded to the bathroom, stopping mid tracks. A small piece of paper was on the floor by the main entrance to the room. It had evidently been pushed beneath the door akin to the way hotel staff do for express checkout guests. Shakily I bent to pick it up and unfolded it with trepidation. A cursive scrawl on hotel headed notepaper simply read:

I'm here all week. Next time, knock :-)

I smiled at the note. Maybe I will.