It was… wait, what is that noise?

Tom heard a muffed, monotonic sound in the room, making him stop dead in his tracks. It sounded like water dripping somewhere, a noise he'd heard before but never really investigated. Tom walked around the bedroom trying to locate the source of the sound, but it was faint and erratic.

Suddenly, realization struck - that fucking monotonous drip, drip, drip wasn't water at all. It was coming from upstairs! He froze in place as a wave of excitement rushed through his body.

Without hesitation, Tom made his way back to the bed and began stroking himself furiously. The bed above him continued its squeaky serenade, pushing him closer to climax with each passing second. Just when he was about to reach that blissful peak, the sounds from upstairs stopped abruptly.

"Fuck!" Tom exclaimed in frustration, his hand still gripping his throbbing cock. He waited for what felt like an eternity, listening intently for any sign of their continuation. A few muffled footsteps echoed above him, and he heard the distant sound of running water — someone was using the bathroom.

Anger welled up inside Tom as he muttered to himself, "What a waste. And not even a moan or grunt? Who are these people?" He reluctantly released his grip on his shaft and crawled back into bed, still throbbing with unfulfilled desire.

Reaching for his phone on the nightstand, Tom began searching frantically for something… anything to help him reach that elusive climax. "Neighbours sex sounds," he typed hurriedly, scrolling through countless videos in search of the right one. But nothing quite matched the tease from upstairs.

After wasting nearly ten minutes, Tom gave up and tossed his phone aside. He laid back on the sweat-soaked sheets, straining to hear any sign of their return. Footsteps shuffled overhead, along with muffled voices that were too indistinct to make out.

"Come on," he muttered desperately, "fucking go for round two!" But deep down, Tom knew it wasn't going to happen. He glanced at the clock and realized Sarah would be expecting him any minute now.

With a sigh of frustration, Tom rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom. As he splashed cold water on his face, he caught sight of himself in the mirror — flushed cheeks, wild hair, and a hard-on that just wouldn't quit. "What have you become?" he mumbled.

Splashing more water on his face, Tom took a deep breath and tried to regain some semblance of composure. He knew it was time to face reality — and his still-unfulfilled wife at the yoga studio.

Tom pulled up to the yoga studio and spotted Sarah standing alone with her yoga mat. He parked the car and stepped out, his mind still racing from the encounter upstairs.

"Sorry, I was asked to write an email at work," he lied smoothly as he approached Sarah. "Didn't watch the time."

"That's okay, no problem at all…" Sarah replied, looking a bit tired.

"How was your yoga practice?" Tom asked, trying to make casual conversation.

"You know, great as usual..." She shrugged. Then she remembered something and added, "I'm starving and my phone is dead. May I order using yours?"

Tom's heart jumped for a second at the request. He fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it over, trying to seem calm and collected.

Sarah unblocked the phone and suddenly, the car was filled with loud pornographic sounds: "Ahh yesss, fuck me!" She froze for a split second before quickly turning off the video.

The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Tom could see Sarah was trying to ignore what had just happened as she scrolled through her food delivery app.

"Sorry… I…" Tom began awkwardly, not knowing quite how to explain himself.

"It's okay," Sarah interrupted, clearly uncomfortable. "We're both grown-ups, you need it, I get it."

Tom felt a flash of anger surge inside him. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she was the reason he'd been driven to watch porn in the first place — because she was always too tired or not interested.

But instead, he took a deep breath and answered simply: "Yeah, thank you."

"Okay," Sarah replied, still focused on ordering their food. "Do you want anything? I'm ordering from that burger place…"

"Just take me the usual, that's okay," Tom muttered, his frustration evident in his tone.

Next 10 minutes passed in complete silence as they drove home. Tom kept his eyes glued to the road, stewing over everything that had happened — upstairs with his neighbour and now this embarrassing situation with Sarah.

As they pulled into their driveway, Sarah finally broke the tense quiet: "I'll go grab our food when it arrives."

"Okay," Tom agreed as he stepped out of the car.