Unit 807, A Woman Who Can't Sleep

Isabella tossed and turned. Her mind fought with an arousal the middle aged woman hadn’t experienced before, most of the Italian woman’s life had been happily celibate.

But tonight things were different, her mind stirred with thoughts of her ex husband, of coworkers, even of the foreign student staying in her second bedroom.

But through dinner and until bed time Isabella had found it bearable, easy to dismiss, even amusing.

Until she heard moaning through the wall.

Staring at the wall that divided her bedroom from the master bedroom in the neighbouring unit Isabella wondered about who they were, what they were doing, even what position they might be in.

Shifting in her bed Isabella pressed her body here and there against her bed, trying to passively relieve her desire without actually surrendering to the temptation to touch herself. Isabella felt herself growing warmer as she fidgeted about, her covers and sheets soon kicked and flung from the bed.

But that wasn’t enough. With frustration she angrily pulled her baggy t short over her head and flung it into the darkness, her shorts following suite after some quick shimmying.

Dropping flat on the bed Isabella basked in the comfort of her simple nakedness. It felt strangely wonderful, her right hand dancing lightly across her smooth skin, her diligent conscious thoughts to keep from touching herself growing complacent as Isabella felt the pleasure of her fingers brushing across her breast.

She looked at the partition separating her room from theirs, wondering what position they were in, she tried to recall if she’d ever seen the neighbours come or go. Questioning if they would be doing the same thing if she was the one being ravaged sexually.

Cupping her D cup breasts she wondered if she was MILF material. She was in her mid 30s, but considered herself to have kept most of her looks.

Weirder still she found herself wanting them to know how aroused she was, as a finger lingered across her pussy lips she bit her lip at the idea of them knowing she was masturbating to them.

To their watching her watching them, egging and encouraging a sexually rivalry.

Gasping at the momentary teasing relief of her finger dipping between her sodden pussy lips Isabella couldn’t resist any longer.

Getting up on her knees she stared across the room at the wall, grinding and fingering herself, a hand squeezing the impressive and sensitive heft of her breasts. Her wavy dark brown hair slowly spreading out of place over her face as she struggled not to add to the noise.

After all, she was housing a good Catholic foreign student.

Slowly that concern eroded, first it was just gasps calling out, slow murmured moans, groans.

It wasn’t long before Isabella was calling back sexually, yearning evermore to see the couple beyond the wall.

How attractive were they?

Was is just a guy and girl?

Could it be two girls?

As Isabella lost herself more and more to the rampant thoughts and sensations coming over her body her furniture against the wall seemed to slowly sink.

Not that it mattered to her as she remained focused on the center of the wall, oblivious to the dresser sinking like the tower of Pisa.

She could see a glow. A slow warm red, growing outwards as if some torch was burning through a metal slab. As it turned white and parted the edges of the hole shifted. Squirming tentacles seeming to worm their way around the perimeter, consuming the wall and opening her view wider and wider.

Isabella failed to fear or appreciate the tentacles work as they altered the very structure, turning to smooth stone as they opened the wall into two columns and a arching beam.

She was too engrossed with her audience. Or was she the audience?

The black woman’s chocolate brown skin contrasted her straight golden locks. She was bent forward, staring attractively at Isabella as she steadied herself on some strange horizontal bar, all that was left of her bed.

Her breasts swung rampantly forward and back beneath her, easily rivaling Isabella’s own if not surpassing them as a pale skinned man eagerly jack hammered into her, gazing up from his current fuck to blow a kiss to his audience and grin.

His slim toned figure, nicely trimmed beard and coiffed hair presenting an elegance absent from his partner. Her sweat soaked and messy hair flinging everywhere her head turned as she was bent over before him.

Patrick cried out as he hit climax again, pressing his engorged cock as deep as he could into Centricia trying to cum for he couldn’t remember how long.

Pulling his wet cock out he removed the condom he had ripped long ago with vigor and looked around for where they box of condoms was left when they started.

“Forget about it! I need you in me.” The blonde woman whined, her lust crazed mind ravenous for any sex act it could beckon, her own touch failing to compare to the touch of another being.

Staring at their audience made it worse. There was no question of the corruptive forces at work altering their buildings environment and structure, only the excited thoughts and prospects of what opportunity might be presenting itself.

Centricia had walked in here a mousy black girl looking forward to a quiet night of movies. But as the hours passed and the buildings taint penetrated into her she found herself masturbating while snuggled up against her beau.

Their movies went from cerebal and inspiring to graphically perverse. Tales of human spirit persevering changing to ones of new found kinks and depravity.

When they finally did tire of watching people surrender to fetishes, desires, and feral sexual needs they didn’t settle long. Centricia’s envy of several popstars quickly manifested across her body, tits like Nicki Minaj, an ass like the former stripper Cardi B, straight blonde streaked hair like Beyonce once had.

“What’s taking so long?” Centricia moaned with wanton desire, a raised eyebrow and lick towards Isabella, Centricia flexed slightly relishing the feel of her body, her ever more welcoming mind corrupted beyond even perceiving any change.

She just felt fabulous.

And in dire need for more.

She listened to her boyfriend groan and he stroked himself and struggled to put on a condom that was clearly too small for his swollen red headed cock.

“Hurry…” Centricia moaned swaying her ass and gazing over her shoulder only to hear Patrick curse in response.

“If you don’t want me cumming huge in you…” Patrick stopped dead in his rant as he and Centricia turned to process the sultry enthusiastic response Isabella had moaned out.