An Old Flame (Everything You Need)

The room was about what he'd expected; it was a spare room. He was half-way through a six hour journey for work when an old friend had offered him her spare room to break up the drive. You've got everything you need, she'd said to him as she got a towel out of a cupboard for the following morning. Thank you, he replied.

It had been a fun evening. The original plan was to simply get to her house, have dinner with her and her partner, maybe watch some telly, and then head to bed. Instead he arrived and they decided to go to a local board game cafe for some drinks and adventures. It had been years since they'd seen each other, but those years disappeared quickly. They laughed, they reminisced, they argued over rules. He knew she was right about one particular game, but he delighted in pushing her buttons. They'd taken a picture together, a fun memento of the evening.

They were old school friends, a couple for a little while. They'd even lost their virginities to each other. He'd not thought of her like that for years, but reminiscing with her now had reminded him of that night. As it often happens, life arrived and they lost touch. He'd moved out of their home town, they both got married, they'd both moved again. Social media had brought them back together. Innocent at first; chatting, sharing memories, commenting on pictures. Somewhere along the lines it had become a bit more flirtatious. Nothing that could be used as evidence of anything. Little jokes, occasional compliments, something that would linger half a second longer than usual.

And now, so many years after they'd last seen each other in real life, he was in her spare room. The house became quiet, as he plugged his phone in to charge, set his alarm, and undressed to just his boxers to get comfy for a good night's rest.

He was about to drift off into one of those dreamless sleeps when he heard a thudding next door. Gentle, but loud enough to disturb him. What is that, he wondered. He noticed that the thudding sound was rhythmic. Thud. Thud. Thud. Like someone was knocking something against the wall.

Then, he heard her moan.

She's having sex.

She's having sex next door, and he can hear it.

He froze and stared into the darkness. No, he thought, it must be something else. The house is old, sounds happen. She could be doing exercises. She had been going to the gym more, after all. It couldn't possibly be what his brain was telling him. What his brain wanted to hear. But the more the thuds came, the more convinced he was.

She was having sex.

He tried not to listen. He was almost embarrassed he'd heard it in the first place. This was clearly a private moment that he was accidentally spying upon. But her moans got louder which made them hard to ignore. He suddenly heard them get stifled, a hand clearly placed over her mouth with an audible shush coming from her partner.

It didn't stop her enough, as her sounds of pleasure penetrated through the thin walls.

So he listened.

He listened to the thuds as they reverberated into his room and into his mind. He closed his eyes. The more he listened, the more vivid his imagination became. His thoughts had become difficult to control. Without realising it, his hand was down his boxers, grabbing his cock which was now fully erect. He was masturbating to the sounds of his friend being fucked.

He got his phone and pulled up a picture of her, the one they'd taken earlier. She was smiling innocently. She was wearing a nice blouse that showed off her ample curves, tight against her breasts. He zoomed in on the picture to crop him out, focusing only on her and her cleavage. He stared into her eyes and remembered the warmth of her body, her hand around his waist when the picture was taken, her grip tighter than he was expecting, as if she was giving him a knowing squeeze. Did she mean to squeeze that hard? Maybe she was just steadying herself. He'd remembered that he'd squeezed her back, and now his hand was squeezing around his dick as he stroked in time with the thuds. He was picturing himself in that position; on top of her, looking into her eyes, seeing her body move with each thrust.

Her moans escaped the attempted silencing. The thuds got louder, his strokes got faster. He heard another shush, but it was useless. He found himself in rhythm with her moans, an invisible string connecting them. There was nothing in his mind except her. He could feel her; feel what it was like to be inside her. Feeling her pussy grip against his cock. Her moans sounded like she could feel it too.

As she got louder, so did he. Catching his breath as he stared into her eyes. He could sense, no, feel that she was about to come. And so was he. He closed his eyes and listened to her. Every sound, every noise, every bit of ecstasy. Her moans got more intense. The thuds got faster. His strokes got harder. All in time with one another, in perfect sync.

They all came at the same time.

He lay there, breathing heavily, cum strewn across his belly. His mind processing what had just happened. He wondered if she'd heard him too. He stared into the darkness.

He sat himself up, in need of something to clean up with. He switched on a lamp, and it was then that he noticed that a box of tissues.

You've got everything you need, she'd told him.