Smut, Spice and everything nice

just You and Me

Kiara.

I wake up to a loud and continuous thumping noise against the wall. My eyes fly open as I realize what it is. I grope for my phone and check the time—it's 5 in the morning. Groaning, I look over at Avinash's bed, which is empty. The faint sound of water dripping from the shower tells me he must be in the bathroom. I try to go back to sleep, but the rhythmic noise from our neighbors' room makes it impossible. I toss and turn, every slam against the wall a reminder of their enthusiastic activity.

Resigned, I reach for my phone to distract myself, scrolling aimlessly through social media. But the sounds coming from the other room are impossible to ignore, and I find myself uncomfortably aware of the increasingly erotic noises. Sighing, I get up and walk to the couch, glancing out at the sea. The calming view does little to help.

Just then, the bathroom door unlocks, and Avinash walks out, wrapped in nothing but a towel. My jaw drops. Ten years have passed since I last saw him shirtless, and the changes in his body are remarkable. His muscles are more defined, his physique more imposing. I can feel my thighs clench involuntarily at the sight.

"Having fun staring?" he teases, catching my eye.

I quickly turn away, flustered, but our neighbors' fervor only seems to increase, the thumping growing louder and faster.

"It's still going on?" Avinash asks, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Yep, ever since I woke up," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

Avinash moves around the room, making himself a cup of coffee from the espresso machine on the counter, still wearing just the towel. It's almost like he's doing it on purpose, and while I should be annoyed, I'm not. The combination of our neighbors' enthusiastic activities and Avinash's almost naked presence is driving my hormones wild.

As I watch him, fantasies begin to flood my mind. I imagine him stripping off that towel and taking me against the wall, hard and fast. The thought sends a rush of heat through my body, and I can feel my panties getting wet. Embarrassed by my own reaction, I rush to the bathroom, desperate for some relief.

Locking the door behind me, I lean against it, my mind racing. The urge to touch myself becomes overwhelming, and before I know it, my fingers are between my legs, stroking myself to the thought of Avinash. His name slips from my lips in a low moan, the sound echoing in the small bathroom.

The pleasure builds, but no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to reach the peak. Frustration mounts, and after what feels like an eternity, I give up. Washing my hands, I scold myself for getting carried away. This sudden surge of lust is both surprising and disconcerting.

As I step out of the bathroom, still flustered, I freeze. Avinash is leaning against the frame of the walk-in closet, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. My heart skips a beat.

"Oh my god," I think, panic setting in. "Did he hear me moaning his name?"

"Did you have fun touching yourself?" he asks, his voice low and teasing.

I can feel my face flush. "I didn't do anything like that," I stammer, crossing my arms defensively over my chest.

He takes a step closer, the smirk never leaving his face. "So do you always moan my name so loud when you're in the bathroom?" he whispers, his breath warm against my skin.

"Avi... I..." I try to respond, but his proximity renders me speechless.

"You could've just said you wanted to be touched, Kiara. I would touch you in ways you've never been touched before."

"Seems like you keep touching a lot of people," I retort, taking a few steps back, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"No, but I can touch you," he says, his voice husky. "And maybe even eat you out if you want me to."