Page 31 of Hello, Listener
The time shines brightly on my phone screen, ten-fifteen. Still nothing from my dear wife.If she gets to have her fun, then fuck, Iwill too.
I grip the steering wheel tightly, knowing what I am about to do is ridiculous, but there is something about her. I can’thelpmyself. Viewing her from my car isn’t enough. My fingertips crave the feel of her pale skin. I want to hear what she hears. I want to see her up close, and there is a part of me that wants her to seeme.
The sound of my car door reverberates through the empty street. Nervously, I check around the back of the building to determine just how to get into her place. I make my way around the back to a small door that I assume leads to a set of stairs. To my surprise, the door is unlocked.This might be easier than I thought.
I climb the two flights of white tiled stairs. My steps echo through the tiny space made specifically for the narrow pathway. The pathway continues through a hallway filled with several other doors leading to other apartments. The dark brown carpet muffles the sound from the soles of my black dress shoes.
How the fuck will I know which one is hers?Maybe you should have figured that out before you decided to be a fucking creep.I look down the end of the short hallway. My eyes peer towards the small sliver of space between the metal door and the carpet.The light in her apartment is on.Quietly walking past each one, looking to see if I could see small signs of soft yellow light.
The first two are black.No one is home, or maybe they’re asleep.
I keep moving, noticing light shining beneath more doors, but not enough to beThalia’s. I’m guessing their light is coming from a small side table lamp. Thalia’s apartment is lit by her overhead ceiling light fixture.
Behind the next-to-last line of brown metal doors, the light is dimmed, but it’s on.This is it. It has to be.
I’m sweating with anticipation as I jiggle the doorknob, hoping she still has her earbuds in. Her door opens.Thalia, you can’t be serious.As an avid listener to our show, she must not be paying any attention to the content. It only confirms she’s more interested in our voices. A wide grin moves across my lips.Making you mine will be easier than I originally thought.
Carefully, I open the metal door, taking a step into the small apartment. She’s right where she was when I got out of my car.
Her body lies across her small black loveseat. Her feet dangle off the armrest with her pale ankles crossed. I notice her toenails are painted a deep shade of red, and I don’t know why, but it entices me even more.
I make my way in, carefully shutting and locking the door behind me.You can never be too careful.My focus moves to her cat, glancing up at me. He doesn’t make a sound and nods back off to sleep.I am so fucking grateful she’s a cat person.
I make my best attempt to muffle my steps onto the hard tile in her kitchen. I’ve made it in. I’m standing in the corner of the kitchen with my hands in the pockets of my black slacks. While trying to control the rapid movements in my chest, my anxiety speeds up my breathing.Holy shit, I’m in her apartment.As a nervous habit, I roll up the sleeves of my white shirt past my wrists.I’m so fucking close that I can almost smell her perfume of vanilla and what may be some kind of baked desert. I’ve never wanted to taste someone so fucking bad.I continue to keep my quiet composure on the outside while my inner thoughts berate my idiotic actions.What the hell am I doing here? I’m officially overcome with obsession.As I watch her from behind in a dark corner of the kitchen of her apartment, I know I’ve become a victim of my addiction.
Standing here, I amjustout of the view of the window in front of her. I can see her long red hair pulled up messily on top of her head. Her reflection in the window is a beautiful vision. Her gray shorts are pulled up to the middle of her thighs. Her long black shirt sits loosely at her waist. She’s almost breathtaking in her element.
Her black fingernails move up and down her phone, scrolling through a playlist. I look closer, as well as I can, through the reflection.Oh, Listener. You’re addicted to me as much as I am to you.I instantly recognize the logo of my podcast channel on her Spotify app.
The two white M’s in Old English font in the small black circle stand out over everything else.
My pants get tighter, and I adjust myself in the dark corner I’m confined to. I notice her run through a list of our previously recorded episodes, picking from the selection only after a few seconds. She casually drops her phone on the dingy gray carpet once she picks her desired episode. I can’t help but wonder what makes this one so special.
Teasing herself, she moves one of her hands to the waistband of her shorts and her other hand under her baggy black shirt. I can only imagine how amazing her full tits feel.Fuck, Thalia.
Her right hand moves slowly under the gray waistband, making her way under the light cotton fabric of her shorts. I stare intently at her reflection, keeping my eyes on her hands with anticipation to see where they will go next.
Her legs open just enough so I can get a perfect view.Good girl, Listener.She slides the gray fabric to the side and teases herself with her fingertips. She gently moves over her clit, rubbing it inagonizinglyslow circles.
Watching her like this, all of the blood in my body flowinglower,and knowing she is listening tomyvoice is making me fucking crazy.Fuck it.I slowly unzip my pants while still trying to be as quiet as possible. First, pulling myself out through the open space, then I work myself from the base to the top of the head with every heavy breath I hear coming from her direction, moving along with her movements.
Her quiet whimpers get louder, the private and vulnerable sound almost making me lose it. I watch her back arch against the armchair. Her shirt moves up, exposing her flat stomach.
“Oh, fuck.”I hear her moan, and I move my hand faster at the sound of her words.That’s it, Listener. Talk to me.I forcefully bite my inner cheek with my canines to hide my deep groans.She drags her hand out from under her shirt and trails it to her inner thigh. Her fingers squeeze her skin, creating tiny red marks.She moves the other hand down and puts two fingers in her perfect cunt, moving slowly, then picking up speed. Her cries get louder, and her breathing gets faster. Seeing the reflection of her face like this is the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.Don’t stop, Thalia.Our bodies aren’t touching, but I can feel how in sync we are with each other.
“Yes,” she loudly breathes, and her toes curl. She arches her back further, and her body tenses.Oh, you’re so close, aren’t you? Come for me, Listener.More of her breathy, addictive sounds move through the apartment, and my cock gets harder in my hands.Come on, baby. Let yourself go as I watch you fuck yourself in your living room.Her body goes rigid, and her alabaster skin glistens with her sweat.Yes, just like that.I can no longer contain my loud breaths and moans from my satisfaction.Ahhh, fuck, Thalia.My release fills my palm, and my knees start to buckle.Iwill never forget this moment.My come glistens in my hand, a reminder of what this woman does to me. The salty sensation on my tongue as I lap up evidence of my pleasure feels like a new madness inside me, mixed with an erotic link between my Listener and me. The anticipation and nervousness I once had are replaced with a new desire and connection.Some would call it obsession, maybe even mania, or rather a crazed addiction.
Her breath starts to slow down, and the grip on her inner thigh loosens. Her arms fall to her sides, and her thighs crash together inward.That’s my signal.It’s my time to get out before she notices that I have been jacking off to her next to her tiny fridge. I tuck my dick back into my pants and carefully adjust myself.
Before I leave, I notice a keychain sitting on the short white kitchen counter. Her single key is sitting near me on a stack of white napkins. I’m guessing they’re from her favorite Thai place she loves so much. I notice the pen sitting on the other side of me.This is too damn easy.Within a matter of seconds, I color over her key on the white napkin and stuff the napkin in my pocket.
Next time I visit will be so much easier.
Morning Coffee
It has been aweek.
A week of staring at her pictures.
