"Oh yes. Oh yes."
Her voice floated down from upstairs, breathless and loud.
I buried my face in the pillow and groaned. Again? It was barely morning. My new neighbor was already at it, like he had nothing else to do but bring women over and make sure the entire building heard them.
He was relentless. And I wasn't usually the type to hate. But I hated him.
Different women. Different races. Tall, short, curvy, slim. He did not discriminate. They came and went like it was a rotating door. And I had to listen to it all. Every moan. Every slap of skin. Every deep, guttural sound from his mouth.
I had tried everything. Praying. Earplugs. Calling Mama to distract me with her usual sermon. Mama always knew what to say, always knew how to bring me back to focus. But even that didn't work anymore. He left me no choice.
I dragged myself out of bed and went straight to brush my teeth, then stepped into a cold shower, hoping it would shock the thoughts out of my head. It didn't. My skin still tingled from the sounds I had heard.
It was Saturday, which meant no school, so I planned to work on my notes from home. I needed silence. Calm. Peace. I needed something he kept stealing from me.
After my shower, I did my skincare routine slowly, trying to ground myself. I wore a loose moomoo and threw my hair into a messy bun. A layer of chapstick sealed in the moisture on my lips. The sounds had stopped while I was in the bathroom, which meant they were probably done.
Good.
Before I could change my mind, I slipped on slippers and made my way upstairs. I knocked on his door. No answer.
I knocked again. Still nothing.
I knocked a third time and nearly turned to leave when the door swung open.
A very pretty naked woman stood before me.
Short blonde hair. Blue eyes. Pink hard nipples. Clean skin with no trace of hair below her waist. I blinked, then looked away, trying to focus on the wall behind her.
She smiled like I was amusing. "Are you here for Alejandro?" Her American accent was thick and smug.
"Yes." I tried not to look at her chest again, but it was hard. They were just there.
She scanned me from head to toe, taking in my moomoo and bare face. "Come in."
"I'd rather not, but thank you. I'll be back later." My voice cracked slightly, and I hated how nervous I sounded.
Then he stepped out behind her.
Alejandro.
His dark hair was wet, beads of water trailing down his chest to his abs. A white towel hung low on his hips. His body was lean and muscular, the kind that didn't come from just going to the gym but from living in his body like it was a weapon. And through the towel, something thick and half-hard was poking forward. My mouth went dry.
"Go freshen up, Stacy," he said, not even glancing at her.
She smiled and walked away without shame.
And then it was just me and him.
"What?" he asked, voice flat.
How could I speak when my eyes were glued to the trail of water on his chest and the way that towel clung to him. I swallowed hard.
"Umm."
"You want to go back to your room and rehearse?" His tone was sharp and impatient.
That snapped me out of it.
"No. I don't want to. I'm Alannah, your downstair neighbor. I want you to stop having sex with different women every day and night and disturbing my peace. I can hear everything from downstairs and besides, it's a sin. I don't think you're married to any of them."
He smirked.
"My my. You want me to stop having sex?"
"Yes. But if you must, keep it down. The women make a lot of noise and I hear…"
How could I tell him I heard it all. The wet sounds. The beds creaking. The pace. The rhythm. My face flushed and I bit my lip.
"I hear everything. Every single thing."
His smirk deepened. He looked at me like he could see right through my moomoo.
"Are you just jealous I'm fucking other women instead of you?"
I blinked. Heat flared across my face. Did he just say that?
"I'm not. Please just keep it down."
"It must be tough. I hear you're a Catholic, but I didn't realize you were kind of a nun."
My hands itched to slap the smugness off his face.
"I'm not a nun. I have needs too. But we must do the right thing."
He tilted his head slightly, like I'd just handed him the answer to a riddle he'd been trying to solve.
"It was nice to talk to you, sister."
I turned to leave, but I could feel his eyes trailing down my back. Watching. Waiting.
And suddenly, the loose gown I wore felt thin. Exposing.
Like I had come up here naked too.
***
It had been hours since I confronted my neighbor upstairs, and I had not heard a single sound from his apartment. Just a little Christian advice and a firm tone. That was all it took. Mama would be proud.
Back home in Ireland, life was quieter. Predictable. A place where the days blurred into each other like washed out watercolors. But Spain was alive. Its colors, its people, its food. Everything here burned brighter. I had never seen anything like it.
The silence felt like a reward. I managed to finish my work, make dinner, and crawl into bed with a book without plugging in my earphones. Even though the need to satisfy myself still lingered, it was manageable now. The noise was gone. Or so I thought.
I began to drift off, the weight of sleep finally pressing into my chest, when I heard it. Faint at first, a shift in the stillness above. Then clearer.
He was back at it.
This time, I could hear him. His voice.
Not just the woman's moans like before, but him. Alejandro.
"Bend that fucking ass over, slut," he growled, loud and without shame.
I froze. My eyes wide open now.
Oh my God. Forgive me, Lord.
Her moans followed, thick and uncontrollable. I could hear the bed crashing against the floorboards directly above mine.
"Yes, give me that fucking pussy," he groaned.
A tremble pulsed down my spine. My nipples hardened beneath the soft fabric of my camisole, and I bit down on my lower lip. I had never heard him like this. The way he spoke. The sound of his voice. It was like being touched without being touched.
"Touch your fucking nipples, you whore. Do it."
His voice was thick with desire, and it wrapped itself around me like a noose. I imagined his lips near my ear, imagined it was me obeying him.
I should have prayed again. I should have gotten out of bed and opened my Bible.
Instead, I was sweating. Moaning softly as my camisole brushed against my stiff peaks.
I took it off.
My breath hitched when the air touched my bare skin. I felt shameless and exposed in my own room, and yet it was not enough to stop me.
I cupped my breasts gently at first, then rubbed my thumbs across my nipples. They were so sensitive I gasped. My body arched instinctively, aching for more. I pinched them and moaned again. A quiet desperate sound only the dark could hear.
"Yes…" the woman cried out. Her voice was unfamiliar. Not Stacy.
"Yes. Good girl. Touch yourself for me. Go on. Do it for daddy."
The words struck me like lightning. My body reacted before I could stop it. I whimpered, my thighs pressed tight together as I shook beneath the weight of my desire.
Three years. That was how long it had been. I was still a virgin. Still clinging to the promises I made to Mama, to God, to myself.
But right now, I could not remember why.
I moved my hand between my legs, feeling the soft heat of my own skin. I pushed apart the lips of my pussy and gasped at how wet I already was. I placed my index finger on my peak like Alejandro had commanded, though the words were not meant for me.
And yet, I obeyed.