Grant, Getting To Know His Neighbor

Living in New York City, I knew that dealing with occasionally rowdy neighbors was par for the course, but, when two guys moved into the unit above mine, I learned just how bad it could get. They stomped around their living room, shouted when they lost at games, and watched TV at a volume that made my window vibrate. I could recite the plot of 'The Boys' without ever having seen it.

The worst news came about two weeks in, once they’d settled: I was lying in bed, watching a bit of YouTube before I went to sleep, when I heard a woman’s moan burrow its way through the floorboards.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Fuck!” She yelled, “Ohmygod–ohmygod–ohmygoddddd!” Her voice went up at least three octaves as she squealed. I heard a low voice rumble something, but I couldn’t make out the words. “Thank you, sir,” She whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

Thank you? Damn, that was fast.

I rolled over to turn out my lamp, preparing to bunk down for the night, when I heard a thump from upstairs. Then another. “Oh, fuck me,” she moaned. The smacking sound kept a steady rhythm as she begged for more. “Yes! Please, yes, more! Thank you sir. Thank you, thank you! Fuck–fuck–fuck! It feels so fucking GOOOOOD!”

Jesus Christ.

My boner pushed against my underwear. No way I could get any rest like this. I sighed, grabbed a couple tissues off my nightstand, and started to jerk off. “I love it! Yes! I’m yours! I’m your fucking slut!”

Oh fuck.

I came almost immediately. My phone was in hand: I hadn’t even gotten to open PornHub. It was over. But above me, the fucking continued unabated. I tossed the tissues in the garbage.

Man… I really liked this building…