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Going The Distance

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Blonde

I was sitting at my desk and failing to complete an essay while listening to my flatmate getting fucked.Whoever made these shoddy student digs obviously hadn’t spent much money on them. They were bland and ugly, they froze in the winter, and their walls were very, very thin. When Ash to my left watched TV on her laptop, I could make out the dialogue. When Rose down the hall played her music, I could hear every note of her 80’s goth discography. And when Rowan, who occupied the room to my right, decided to call her causal boyfriend, a fuckbuddy by any other name…”Harder, Jacob! Harder! Unf!”The sound of her bedframe creaking. The knocking of its head against the wall. Even the steady slap of skin on skin. Here I was trying to write an essay on microplastics, fucking microplastics, and I was having to hear that. Ash was on a date and Rose at a gig, so I’d hoped I’d get some quiet time to work today, but nope. Thanks, Rowan. How was I supposed to concentrate on the viability of soil ecosystems with that racket going on next door?You might suggest knocking and yelling, but Rose had already tried that and they’d gotten even louder in response. That ended with her playing her music even louder to drown them out, which had made things even worse. Ash had gone in for snarky and biting comments, but Rowan tended to take them badly. And I’d mentioned it to Jacob once, man to man, but he’d been so smug and responded with such a shit-eating grin that I’d wanted to punch him. And they’d gotten even louder the next time.I suppose I could have left the flat for an hour, or put on music of my own (on headphones, of course. I’m not Rose). But there was a reason I didn’t, even if I hated to admit it.Hearing Rowan getting fucked was hot.I loved hearing it, hated hearing it, Küçükyalı Escort couldn’t stop listening to it. It drove me crazy to know my pretty, spunky, redheaded flatmate was getting dicked down mere feet away from me, even as I seethed because it was nothing to do with me. I knew it was pervy of me, but if she was going to broadcast her sex life to the world, why shouldn’t the world listen in?I just wished it was me. I wondered if it could have been me, had I been suaver when we’d met, if I’d said the right things. I was sure I could do a better job of it than her current lover. I’d heard enough cussing through the walls, seen Rowan in enough short and snappy moods, to know that.I imagined Rowan’s body, all pale and lithe and athletic, wrapped around my own. Her short and curly ginger hair, stuck to her forehead with sweat. I put faces to the moans I heard.Rowan who would lounge in the kitchen after a shower with her gorgeous legs on the table, her hair wet and smelling of flowers, cradling a cup of tea.Rowan who used to come back from the gym with her sports bra visible beneath a damp and transparent shirt after having run back as a cooldown, covered in sweat in a way that activated some primal caveman urge inside of me.Rowan who now jogged the twelve storeys of our student tower because the gym was too expensive, treating passers-by to those sleek and muscular legs, that firm arse in running shorts, those perky tits that jiggled as she mounted the stairs.Rowan, Rowan, Rowan. I had her on the brain. I had all of them on the brain, really, but she was the worst. Fucking so loudly, so close by. When she came, the noise would be burned into my brain and fuel my fantasies for weeks. Not that she came that often, with her careless and Küçükyalı Escort Bayan selfish lover. But when I imagined her fucking me, she always got her O.Was that presumptuous of me? Maybe. But I doubted it. Sure, I wasn’t some master of sex with a cock the size of a bus, but I’d had relationships before and had done well in the bedroom. My first time had been in my last year of school. We were both eighteen, but she’d taught me more than any teacher ever had. I’d had a second girlfriend in my gap year, and while it had ended badly, it hadn’t been the sex that made us break up. In fact, she’d bragged enough that some of her friends got interested after we split.But I wasn’t the sort of charming that got girls lining up to take a chance. I wasn’t a player, and I wasn’t smooth enough to pick up chicks in bars. I was confident in my ability to rock a girl’s world in bed, but that doesn’t count for much if you can’t get them into bed in the first place. I’d worked hard to be more than just the shy, nerdy guy I used to be, but I guess some things still lingered.Which is why I was single, despite living in a flat with three beautiful and sexually active girls.”Faster! Harder! I said harder, don’t just go quick! Come on, thrust! Are you even listening?”The noises were getting louder, now. The creaking and thumping came quicker, even as the pace got irregular and erratic. Rhythm was not this guy’s strong point. They had been better when they started, from what I could hear, but Rowan’s guy seemed to have gotten complacent. More often than not, their sessions ended with Rowan unfulfilled.And this seemed to be one of those times. The guy was speeding up and getting sloppy, but there were none of the telltale whimpers that heralded his partner’s orgasm. Rowan was sounding increasingly frustrated and annoyed, the creaking got louder…”Uuunnh!””Noooo!”A groan of satisfaction, a shriek of despair. Release for me, but not for thee. Rowan’s dude – it seemed wrong to call him a man – had failed her yet again. I felt sorry for my flatmate, even as I felt a stab of vindictive spite towards her partner: Yeah, he was with her and I wasn’t, but he wasn’t exactly doing a good job.As I thought this, my denied flatmate rose the roof.”Why the fuck did you cum?” The sound of rustling clothes and footsteps had replaced the shagging, as a backing track to their argument.”Because we were fucking, babe. It’s kind of the point.” Her fuckbuddy sounded smug, as always. After all, he’d gotten his pleasure. Who cared about anyone else?”How could you? How could you? I was getting close!””Hey, you’re the one who said to go faster.” God, he made my blood boil.”Don’t you even care?””Hey, sometimes girls don’t cum. It’s natural.””Bastard!”I heard the door open, and something clattered as it slammed against the wall. If I were to guess, I’d say that Rowan had thrown something in her anger. There were footsteps in the hallway, and the sound of another door opening. Then it closed, and there was a scream. A scream of sheer, unsatisfied fury. The scream of a woman let down.I got up. I wasn’t sure what I was planning to say to Rowan – comfort her? Tell her to pipe down? Or maybe…I can’t say. All I can say is that when I heard that primal scream, some deep-seated instinct took over. And I walked into the hallway.Rowan was there, lovely in her rage. She’d flung her clothes on in a hurry to follow her lover into the hall and now she stood, disheveled and seething, staring at the door he had just left by. She wore a plain shirt with no bra underneath it and a pair of faded blue jeans. Her belt was unbuckled and the jeans were sliding down her hips, showing a pair of red knickers that hid her unsatisfied cunt. She was barefoot.

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