Unmute

"You want to make yourself come on my cock? Can't help yourself, can you, my needy slut, huh? Tell me. Tell me you want to touch yourself and come on my cock."

"I want to touch myself and come on your cock," I whispered with quivering lips, but didn't follow suit. I merely let my legs fall open a bit more.

"Louder," he demanded as he rammed himself inside. "Don't you dare put a finger on yourself before I tell you that you can."

I whimpered, stupidly relieved and proud that I had indeed not put a finger anywhere yet. "I want to touch myself and come on your cock," I said, significantly louder this time, and my heart fluttered madly in my chest and between my legs.

A knocking sound. Loud.

My eyes snapped open, the spell suddenly, abruptly, quite rudely broken.

Another knock pierced through the headphones. I sat up so fast my head spun, flinging the phones from my head as if they were on fire. My entire body was drenched and my heartbeat was deafeningly loud in my burning ears.

Knock, knock.

A long moment passed until I finally caught on to protocol. Real life. This was real life. Casey. What do real people do when other real people knock on their equally real doors?

"Yes? Who is it?" I called out dumbly, wiping my bangs from my sticky forehead. My voice echoed off the vaulted ceiling. It made me wince. I had entirely forgotten just how loud every noise would sound inside the rooms of this house.

Michael's voice rang out, slightly muffled by the door. "Casey, hey, it's me! Do you know where Cat is?"

"I, uhm—" Before I could rationally think about it, I was already on my way to the door, pulling up my sleep shorts as I went, and cringing. My panties were entirely liquid, feeling squelchy as I yanked them up into my oversensitized, puffy crotch.

Next thing I knew, I had the door unlocked and opened to look him in the eye as we talked because I had been taught proper manners as a kid - and because I really didn't want Michael to think that I was doing anything... unseemly behind locked doors. Bad enough that I was locking my bedroom door at all! Like I had something to hide!

"No, uh, I haven't seen her since this morning!" I told him with a voice that surely proclaimed innocence in big, flashing neon letters.

The light from the hallway was bright. I squinted a little against it and tried to ignore the tingling of sweat on my upper lip. Trying to casually hide my lower half behind the door so that Michael would at least not see a wet spot, I clenched my legs together. Fuck, bad idea. At this rate, a drop of pearly-white liquid would soon be running down the inside of my legs.

"Neither have I," Michael said, leaving me stumped for a second as to what he was talking about. Catlynn! My twin sister, his girlfriend, her absence the reason for his being here at my door - right!

"Can I come in? I want to see what you're been up to in here."

I swear I heard him ask it. My body heat skyrocketed as an entire scenario unspooled in my head. "Uh, what?!"

"I said 'Neither have I', Seen her since breakfast, that is," Michael repeated and looked me up and down once perfunctorily, brows furrowed. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Fine," I said too quickly and too loud and wiped my face with the back of my hand as casually as humanly possible. "Just... The duvet is a bit too warm for my, uh- I have a high body temperature and your floor heating system really drives up the overall warmth in my room." Oh, God, Casey, shut the hell up. "So, Cat. Uhm. I've seen her this morning during breakfast. I think she told me something about her colleague's birthday dinner or something?"

"Oh, yeah!" Michael perked up. "That was today! I forgot all about that. But she isn't answering her phone, either. I'm sort of worried."

"There's a charger dangling from the socket on the kitchen counter," I told him, relieved to see the end of the tunnel that was this stupid, stupid conversation. "I think that's hers? She probably forgot to take it, and her phone ran out of juice."

"You're right!" Michael smiled at me, and my stupid heart leaped and the heat rose through my body from the soles of my feet upwards.

99.9% of the time Michael was basically the brother I never had and in my brain I got a bit confused when my twin sister was being romantic with him.

But then there was the .1% of the time, when my body was already keyed up and my thoughts were all red-hot with residual heat, my head echoed with a man's deep voice saying 'Tell me you want to touch yourself and come on my cock', and Michael smiled like that, mere days after fucking his own fist in the TV room at night while secretly watching porn, and I could swear he was thinking about pushing the door open and grabbing me by the-

"Alright. Thanks, Casey. Sorry for waking you up," he said, and his voice didn't betray whether or not he knew that he had not, in fact, woken me up.

Whether or not he had been listening by the door. And for how long, or how closely. How much he had heard.

But his eyes seemed just a bit hotter than normal.

I closed the door as he walked away and didn't dare lock it again for fear of what kind of message that would send. I shut my browser, cleared my browsing history, shut down my laptop, and lay in bed with my eyes open and my panties still soaked.

***

A door opening.

Only now I realized how cheap that sound effect was. Like a heavy oak door in an ancient castle or something.

"Babe, I'm home!"

Are you, really? How high were rents for ancient castles these days, I wondered? In any case, this reminded me to call my former landlord and settle our issues. God, that smarmy asshole.

"Babe, where—?"

Even those two words suddenly seemed like such a weird thing to say. If he was actually wondering where his 'babe' was, he would have yelled.

"What are you doing there?"

What does it look like, dude? Masturbation cannot be forbidden if you're at work all damn day and I'm sitting around alone in my castle. Castles are a drafty bitch to keep warm, and girls got to do what girls got to do to keep the body heat up. Don't you judge me!

I opened my eyes and frowned up at the ceiling. Why did these thoughts always happen?

It had taken me two days and Michael and Cat going to a party with some friends this evening, leaving me all alone in the house, to dare and give audio porn another go. But while my body remembered exactly what that disembodied voice had done to it two days ago, my brain was apparently trying to punish me for not riding that first wave to the end.

I sat up, surrounded by fat pillows on my bed and illuminated softly by that one lamp on the other side of the room again and scrolled lazily around the webpage, clicking on this and that file and listening to the first few seconds of it.

So many horny guys and girls recording the noises of their masturbation. So many badly written erotic theatre plays about coming home and catching someone masturbating, or being caught masturbating, or masturbating to someone with or without their knowledge and approval. The only thing that got an actual reaction from me was a user comment saying 'Every time a girl calls her boyfriend Daddy, Sigmund Freud's ghost gets a bit stronger'.

I was about to close the page entirely and maybe try again with conventional porn when a link attracted my attention.

'Are you listening?' it asked me.

I clicked on it and settled against my biggest pillow.

A movie playing in the background. Soft, wet noises, quiet humming. People kissing.

A small laugh. A giggle in return.

I closed my eyes where I sat and imagined it. A man and a woman on a sofa. In the background, a TV showing a movie that was increasingly unimportant.

He was pulling her legs over his lap, caressing the hollow of her knee which made her twitch and giggle. She was slipping a finger over the slice of naked skin on his waist where his shirt had ridden up. Their kisses were playful yet, turning a bit spicy now and then but mellowing out again.

Foreplay. Emphasis on 'play'. My toes curled and I hugged the second pillow to my body, jostling the laptop onto the mattress.

The wet sounds of suckling little kisses down someone's neck.

"We should stop," the woman hushes. "You know she's right next door."

Who's 'she'? A nosy neighbor, maybe, behind a very thin wall? Their baby girl, sleeping in her cot?

Her sister, overstaying her welcome at their huge house after a mental breakdown?

I licked my lips.

"Don't care," he replies, his voice muffled by her skin. "Let her eavesdrop if she wants."

A sucking, popping sound. He has given her a hickey and she gasps at the lingering sensation.

"I know you like it too when she's listening," he speaks directly into her ear and licks the delicate pink shell.

Shhhit. I pressed my headphones into my ears just to hold on to something.

"No, I don't. Shut up," the woman protests, but it sounds unconvincing.

The man chuckles. He knows. "Can't. You know you both get off on my dirty talk."

So cocky, but his voice was perfect for dirty talk. Not too deep, friendly-sounding, with just the right amount of rasp.

"And she also gets off on hearing you moan and scream my name-" he continues, then is interrupted by a slap.

She has swatted him on the shoulder and pushes him away a little to catch her breath and get a word in edgewise. "God, don't say that...! It's so wrong-!"

"You like it when it's a little wrong," he reminds her. "Admit it. You liked wearing that collar."

He kisses her on the neck, exactly where that collar sat that one time.

"You liked having my finger in your cunt on the bus."

His hand slides between her legs and strokes her once with the tip of his index finger.

"You liked giving me head at the theatre."

I shuddered.

What if Michael hadn't been alone that night? What if it wasn't porn making the noises I had heard-?

"You only get this wet when it's a little wrong, babe," he says.

His index finger is hooked into the crotch of her panties. The fabric is drenched and slippery.

"You're soaked when you have an audience."

"But- ahh," she starts, yet her sentence melts away as he does that thing with his finger. "Whoo- God!"

"That's right. I'm actually taping this right now. I'll put it on the internet and thousands of people will get off on your sweet moans, and on the noise of my cock ramming into your holes. Do you like that idea?"

"Shit, ohh- please-" She bites her lip, torn between reason and pleasure, then gives a surprised little yip when he flicks a particularly tender part of her.

"Do you like that idea, babe?" he insists, and she calls, "Yes! Shit, yes, I like it!"

He laughs, pleased, and she laughs along, slightly embarrassed but also too horny to care.

"Come here. Kiss me properly and then I'll fuck you 'til you scream."

So demanding. I imagined Michael, sweet, mellow Michael, bossing around my headstrong, perfect sister, thrusting his tongue into her mouth like he owned it, putting a collar on her and yanking on her leash, playing with her body in public and forcing her to stay still and silent, and pushing her head into his cock as he reclined in his home cinema seat, knowing full well that I was right outside the door, and fuck- Oh. Fuck-!

I rocked forward and my crotch made brief contact with the stiff seam of the pillow I had been hugging.

I had a split second to think 'oh fuck' once more, and then I imploded.

Every muscle in my body jumped and contracted, and I collapsed in a spastic shiver, burying the pillow underneath me, between my thighs. A loud, if strangled 'Fuuuuck' echoed across the room as days and weeks and months worth of tension burst from me, along with a spurt of wetness that immediately soaked my underwear and my cotton pajamas on the insides of my thighs. I hurriedly reached down and clamped my hand around the epicenter of this earthquake, trying to hold the gushing wetness inside, which caused aftershocks that were almost as wracking as the thing itself and made my thighs tremble violently.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck", I heard myself chant, and the woman in my ears joined in as her man slid her panties aside and sank his cock into her pussy.

I could have sworn I felt it, too. I clamped my hand around my throbbing crotch.

"Are you listening?" he asks over his shoulder, turning his head toward the door or the wall, toward the eavesdropper. His tone is victorious, almost viciously pleased. He thrusts forward.

"Are you hearing what I'm doing with her right now?"

Yes, I thought - or maybe shouted. "Yes, I am listening!"

Listening, and not done. There was more coming, more of it rolling down that hill. The earth was already trembling. My lower belly quivered.

The woman moans, and the sound stutters with each hard thrust.

"I want her- to hear you—come- on- my- cock," he tells her.

I jerked my hips in the same rhythm, bunching the pillow up underneath me and between my legs. Rutting, my thoughts supplied, fuelling themselves, riling themselves up to a fever pitch. Ramming. Pounding. Humping. Fucking.

"Fuck me!" the woman begs as he tells her to. "Fuck me harder!"

"You gonna cum?" he asks.

"Yes, yes, yes," I sobbed and jerked my hips fiercely enough for my headphone cord to get caught somewhere and my phones to slide off my head - rutting, ramming, pounding - and then there was not enough air in my lungs to cry out my second release, which was several powers of magnitude larger than the first.

Going... going... gone.

My mouth was open but no sound came out.

My heart, my brain, my blood - everything seemed to stop, and then to dance and whirl for an endless second. More wetness soaked my clothes and spotted the pillow I was abusing. Stars fell out of the sky and I felt like I was dying.

Suddenly, I was just a wrung-out fish caught on land, sweat-soaked, cum-soaked, gasping for air. A hot tear made its way down the bridge of my nose.

I rolled sideways off the pillow, lay there with my arms and legs spread out, and looked up at the ceiling, breathed deeply, heard my body hum and sing, and laughed.

I should just have listened sooner.

FIN

Hello. So, yeah, I am back(ish? I think? Is that what I am? Not entirely sure yet, we'll see).

This thing meandered around rather pointlessly, didn't it? You won't be surprised to hear that it's partially autobiographical (I won't tell you which parts...). Humor me and this story, please. It's just me trying to find my proverbial sea legs again after having been figuratively stranded for so long.

('Stranded' because 'dry'. Get it? Too much information, huh? Sorry.)

P.S.: If you have a sexy voice and do audio porn - the good kind where you put some effort into it - and put it on the internet for free, may the gods bless you. Seriously.

PP.S.: Sorry for having potentially ruined that Kimmy Granger/Chad White clip for you forever :P

Be kind, leave a comment.

xo cydia