1. The Guy Next Door - Part One


    Date: 9/17/2015, Categories: Reluctance, Author: SITTING, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    glass as I frowned, processing the information. Cooper had a key to my flat? It seemed bizarre. What if he’d been in when I was out? Why wouldn’t he have told me? It seemed way too creepy. “Speaking of the neighbour ,” Lacey said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Have you hit that yet? He’s on fire.” “Lace!” Rose laughed. “You’re engaged!” I dropped my bag and struggled out of my jacket, trying to smile. It was nice to see them all but – but what ? What else was I going to do? Listen to Cooper and his latest fucktoy like a goddamn stalker? I needed to get a damn life. It wasn’t really a party. We took a small tour of the flat, ate some cake, then put on some music and danced around before collapsing onto the sofa/chairs/floor and turning the television on. The three bottles of champagne were fast dwindling, despite having been diluted with peach juice. As I switched the music off so we could hear the television, the unmistakeable sound of sex drifted through the wall and crashed the party. Jaws dropped. My guests looked at each other speechless. “Oh my god! Uh-huh! Fuck! That’s so good!” Thump. Thump. Thump. “Christ!” Rose looked at me, her eyes wide. “How do you live with that?” I shrugged limply. “You get used to it.” She blinked. “I don’t think I ever could.” Lacey turned up the television to block out the incessant moaning. I blankly watched Jimmy Fallon and his celebrity guests lip syncing. It was the first Saturday night in months that I hadn’t listened to the ...
    happenings in apartment 4D. I wondered who the girl was, what he was doing to her. Straight? Oral? Anal? All three? I refilled the glasses with champagne. My friends were laughing uncontrollably at Fallon et al. I tried to join in. Then the knock at the door came. Nobody moved. “Did you hear that?” I asked. Nobody replied. They were engrossed in the television. I walked across the floorboards barefoot, my heart pounding. Maybe I’d imagined it. I reached for the door handle but as I pulled it, a girl’s frantic voice made me stop short. “Oh no! Don’t! Please! I’m not – I’m not wearing anything.” I froze. “Oh. Shit. Sorry.” “No. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.” There was an awkward pause. I didn’t dare to peek out, despite my curiosity. I cleared my throat, still holding the door open an inch. “What is it you want?” “Oh! Right! Yes. Sorry. You don’t happen to have any – uh – champagne do you?” My mouth fell open. Bastard. Utter bastard. The very evening my friends arrived with champagne, he suddenly needed it? He was using me. He knew. I looked at the glass in my hand. He knew . I should have marched over to his flat and told him what I thought of him. What did I think of him? I was repulsed – right? I stood there uncertainly. What was he going to do with champagne other than drink it? It made no sense. The girl was still out there; probably terrified that someone might appear on the stairs. I looked over at my friends sipping Bellini’s. The final bottle was almost empty. “I don’t have ...
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