A New Meaning of Silence

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Plan to obtain silence carries heavy price.
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WFEATHER
WFEATHER
1,905 Followers

I was awakened by a feminine cry in the middle of the night.

Once again, my sexaholic neighbor above me was going at it with some girl. I glanced over at the clock and rolled my eyes.

I absolutely adore the sound of a woman enjoying sex. But when it happens in the middle of the night – repeatedly, for months – I find it rather annoying.

It was especially annoying on that particular night, as it was only 3:32AM.

Another, louder feminine cry pierced the darkness. Again, I cursed the thin walls in this student apartment complex. Yet, my body betrayed me, reacting to the sounds coming from Apartment 19.

I looked over at my girlfriend, visiting for the weeklong Thanksgiving vacation. In the faint light of my iMac's screensaver, I could see her eyes here now open, looking at me, a tired expression upon her face.

"You were right," Alexa said softly. "This is the third night they've done this. Do they do this every night?"

"Fortunately, no," I sighed. "But they sometimes go at it two or three times in a single night, even during the week. It makes me wonder how they can possibly be keeping up their grades at the university."

My girlfriend slid over to me, then slid upon me. "I see the noise has caught your interest." She briefly rolled her hips along my growing erection.

"Well, you know me."

"Indeed. All too well."

She kissed me, slowly, gently, softly. Underneath the covers, my arms wrapped around her. Once the kiss ended, Alexa rested her head on my shoulder as I gently stroked her head.

For several minutes, we both listened to the sounds of feminine passion from upstairs, the sound of a bed's creaking also penetrating the ceiling. The passionate cries grew louder and more desperate, and were having an effect on Alexa as well – she had long ago admitted to some latent bi curiosity – as she gently humped me, just enough for both of us to be aroused at a nice "simmer" level.

"Just how well do you know the other tenants here?" I was suddenly asked out of the blue. "And, how many of them are going to be here over the break with their boyfriends and girlfriends visiting?"

It took me a moment to get past the initial shock of her question. "Why ask that, of all things?"

And she was still humping me gently. "I have an idea to make your upstairs neighbors realize just how annoying the constant late-night sex is for everyone else."

With her face buried in my neck, I felt Alexa's smile as she announced her plan. "I believe that we can get everyone still here to engage in really loud sex every night for the rest of the week, all at the same time so we can still ideally get some much-needed sleep."

It took me a few moments to truly digest her plan, and her slow movements upon me were definitely distracting me. But once her plan had truly sunk into my brain, I saw the brilliance of her idea.

And also the potential downfall. "What if it backfires?" I asked, slipping a hand down her nightshirt to her soft, panty-clad cheeks. "What if Jon and his girlfriend-of-the-month see it as a challenge and simply escalate their activity?"

"That's why everyone else who will be here needs to be as loud as possible, and do it every night for the rest of the week. And we need to vary the time each night."

I looked at the clock: 3:41AM on Tuesday morning of Thanksgiving vacation. "Are you tired?" I asked as another feminine cry pierced the darkness.

"Not really," Alexa admitted. "But I know how you can make me tired."

I felt her smile against my neck again. Then she purred softly as my hand slipped inside her panties and slithered down between her legs.

"Just be quiet," I said softly, "or else your plan will definitely backfire."

"Then perhaps I should go get the penis gag first."

*****

After breakfast Tuesday morning, we sat at my computer and wrote out the plan in detail. The concept was short and simple: At the designated time each night, everyone was to engage in really loud sexual activity. The hard part was deciding when the "war of sex" would take place each night. At last, we had decided and printed the instructions.

After lunch, we went around to all the apartments – except Apartment 19 – and spoke with everyone who was in at the time. We repeated the process later in the afternoon, and again after dinner. We spoke with about half the tenants – the other half had already left for Thanksgiving – and everyone liked the plan.

Of course, not everyone had a significant other. A few sheepishly admitted to owning some porn videos or DVDs which they could play loudly. One person proudly (and, fortunately, quietly) played a host of audio files of sexual activity, files downloaded from the Internet over several years, and agreed to play them at top volume at the designated time each night. And, knowing that Cheryl had a crush on Gregg, I even did a little matchmaking.

Of course, not everyone would be here every night of the week. About half the participants would be leaving Wednesday, traveling to visit family for Thanksgiving itself. Still, it was a good start.

*****

About 11:30PM, the climactic noise from Apartment 19 finally abated. That was fortunate, as the appointed time for the first "sex battle" was 12:45PM. In the intervening seventy-five minutes, Alexa and I engaged in loving foreplay, slowly undressing each other over the course of an hour, spending the rest of the time slowly masturbating each other.

A few minutes before the "sex battle" was scheduled to truly begin, I heard a squeal come from Apartment 8. Anna had originally planned to spend the night with her girlfriend Maria, who lived on the opposite side of town, but they were both eager to participate in the "revenge" of the night.

I took the squeal as my cue, and kissed my way down Alexa's chin and neck, between her breasts, down her stomach, ever lower, until I reached her wonderful feminine folds. She was already rather wet from the slow foreplay and especially the masturbation, but I took my time anyhow, licking gently as I stroked her labia and inner thighs with my fingertips. I took my time, reveling in her quickening breaths, watching the rise and fall of her breasts and the curl of her fingers into the bedspread. I also keyed in on the slow rise of the sounds of sexual pleasure coming from other apartments, and smiled.

"Your plan is working," I commented briefly. "Congratulations."

"Shut up and eat me!" Alexa pleaded loudly, the need quite evident in her voice.

That command was met by several other soft cries – mostly, but not all, feminine – form neighboring apartments. I could clearly identify Natsumi's voice, as she was the only Asian student I had ever seen in the complex. I recognized Edward's voice as well, as he was a natural baritone in the vein of Barry White. I heard some stereotypical porn music, so someone had turned up the volume on a DVD or videotape.

At last, I plunged two fingers into Alexa's writhing body, and her squeal of pleasure was exquisite. She was fondling her own breasts as my tongue stroked her clitoris and my fingertips brushed her cervix. Curling my fingers upward, I located her so-called "special spot," and took a deep breath, steeling myself for a wild, wet ride.

"Oh! Oh! Anna!" That was unmistakable, and I smiled. But I wanted Alexa's sounds of passion to be the loudest of the night – both because I thoroughly enjoyed listening to her screams, and because I wanted to send a powerful message of "revenge" to Jon and his girlfriend-of-the-month.

I went into full assault mode, stroking Alexa's G-spot while sucking on and licking her clitoris. I was ruthless, merciless, barely stopping to breathe. It had the intended and much-desired effect, as Alexa was soon screaming loudly, her usual inhibitions thrown aside, her cries easily rivaling all others. My girlfriend's body was in constant motion, and it was somewhat of a challenge – as expected – to keep my lips sealed to hers as tightly as I would have liked. She had essentially turned into Niagara Falls, liquid love flowing rapidly from her body; what did not end up coating my face pooled upon the bedspread.

I was hard as a rock, rubbing myself against the edge of the bed, dripping from the tip. Yet my attention was (almost) completely focused upon Alexa: her sounds, her feel, her scent, her taste. Dimly, I was aware of other sounds of sex from elsewhere in the complex, but I was definitely most attuned to my sweet-tasting siren, drawn toward her orgasmic songs.

At last, I relented, moving up to lay beside her. I had intended to simply hold her, to allow her a moment to calm herself and bask in the post-orgasmic afterglow before sheathing myself inside her willing body.

But Alexa was having none of that. I had lit the fuse, and she was now a Roman candle. She quickly mounted me, sank down quickly upon me, and rode me with a primal necessity like I had never seen from her before. My hips rose to meet her rapid rhythm, my hands tightly holding her hips. Her blissful howls filled me just as much as I filled her, yet it still was not enough.

As the next orgasm shredded her consciousness, my girlfriend fell upon me, momentarily spent as I continued to drive myself deep into her body. Then she was moving against me again, her babble loud and incoherent in my ear as her fingernails burrowed painfully into the skin of my shoulders.

With a loud, thunderous growl of my own, I pumped my love, my soul, into her, triggering one final release for her. Our voices joined and intertwined, coupling obscenely.

As we descended from the sexual peak, I felt Alexa twitch both upon me and around me. We were both practically drenched with sweat. Slowly, I became aware of the quiet which had settled upon the complex, and idly wondered if Alexa's plan had truly worked.

I heard water begin to run through the pipes. It sounded like Anna and/or Maria was having a shower, and I knew Alexa and I could have used a long, hot shower at that time. Yet I was in no mood to move at that time, and Alexa was clearly not about to move off me, especially since my tip was still nestled inside her.

"That was intense," she finally whispered before she kissed my lips. "I can taste myself on you," she observed.

I smiled. "Now you know what I enjoy eating you. Or, at least, you know part of the reason."

We kissed again: longer, deeper, but just as full of respect and love. As we kissed, I slipped completely out of her at last, and our combined passion dribbled from her onto me.

"Jon, yes, right there..."

The kiss ended, and Alexa and I both sighed sadly. But, there was still hope, for we had only lost the initial battle, not the war.

*****

Wednesday, Alexa and I went shopping for everything we would need for Thanksgiving dinner, then went for a nice, long drive in the countryside. If Jon and his girlfriend-of-the-month were mating like rabbits, we fortunately missed it.

...until we returned to fix dinner. Even before we had entered the building, we could hear them going at it.

We went out for dinner instead, then a film at the nearby independently-owned cinema.

Upon our return, all was quiet, but there was a note taped to my door. I waited until we were inside my apartment to read it:

"Great performance last night, but it didn't work. I've invited a few friends over tonight, so expect the noise to be REALLY loud. – Anna"

I handed the note to Alexa. "I say tonight, we listen to the results of your plan," I suggested with a smile.

She read the note, and agreed with a wide grin.

10:30PM and 1:15AM, the annoyances came from Apartment 19.

2:20AM, however, it was our side's time for "revenge."

Alexa and I had actually fallen asleep in each other's arms as we say on the sofa in the darkness. Alexa's kiss to my forehead was what awoke me. Seconds later, I heard a soft cry coming from Anna's apartment.

"You wanted to listen tonight, right?" Alexa asked, stroking my chest through my sweatshirt.

We mostly listened, but we also kissed and hugged and stroked and licked and bit and sucked. But our activity that night was not designed to participate in the second "sex battle."

Anna and her group provided the majority of the aural fireworks that night. For well over an hour, the sounds of the all-girl gangbang in Apartment 8 had me as hard as a rock. Alexa responded quite nicely to those sounds as well, expertly increasing my pleasure.

From two different apartments, I could hear porn videos or DVDs being played rather loudly, the stereotypical music both corny and quite appropriate for the hour-long "battle." And I could also discern Ricky's audio files, recognizing a few from his Tuesday afternoon demonstration.

The second night of the "Sex war" seemed to be a turning point. About halfway through the "battle," I could hear someone in Apartment 19 banging on a wall. A few minutes later, the banging was accompanied by yelling of a very non-sexual nature.

When the rest of our comrades finally ceased their "attacks," Alexa and I finally gave in to the desire building within us over the past hour. However, unlike the neighbors above, we actually made an effort to be quiet, and I highly doubt anyone outside my apartment heard the activity taking place within the walls.

*****

I awoke on my back on the sofa, with Alexa still asleep upon me. That is always a nice way to start the day, but being Thanksgiving morning, it was especially nice.

After a shower and a light breakfast, my girlfriend and I went for a walk around the nearby campus, stopping to get coffee at Starbucks. There were few people around, little traffic on the streets... very atypical of a Thursday morning.

When we returned, I wanted to go upstairs, to see if anyone had left a note on Jon's door. There was no note, but there was a ball gag hanging on the doorknob! There was also a small tag, which I bent down to read:

"Please wear this so we can study and sleep."

Alexa and I barely made it back to my apartment before we burst out in hysterical laughter. The "gift" was brilliant, and I vowed that if I learned who had bought the ball gag, I would GLADLY reimburse that cunning person!!!

Together, Alexa and I prepared and devoured Thanksgiving dinner while watching football – a Thanksgiving tradition in both our families. Then we cuddled on the sofa while watching various anime from my extensive collection.

Just as Perfect Blue was starting, someone knocked on my door. I was surprised to see Natsumi waiting to speak with me, and invited her in. I believe she was just as surprised to hear Mima (on the DVD) speak in Japanese, not in English.

"Jon is alone," Natsumi finally announced. "She saw gag and leave quickly. Michelle was crying. So, we win – no more noisy sex from Jon's apartment."

To that extent, Alexa's plan was a resounding success. However, I had never intended Jon's relationship to fall apart, and I doubted Alexa had wanted that to happen.

Still, that night, all was quiet, calm, peaceful. I slept completely through the night for the first time in well over a week. It was, in a word, WONDERFUL.

But early Sunday morning, I was awakened by the sound of footsteps in Apartment 19. I found it odd, but did not think too much about it, settling my ear upon Alexa's chest and falling asleep again to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

...until a loud knock on the door awoke us both perhaps an hour later. We quickly dressed, and I answered the door, only to be confronted by a pair of police detectives.

That was when I learned Jon had overdosed on a cocktail of several illegal drugs. But the lead detectives' main question was if I knew why Jon would leave such a cryptic note:

"She's gone. You win."

*****

To this day, Alexa and I do not talk about the events of the week of Thanksgiving vacation. Now over two years later, only Natsumi and I remain of the tenants who had taken part in the "sex war," and Natsumi has only mentioned those events once. For all three of us, there is now a new meaning of silence, and I, for one, would much rather hear those late-night sexathons than know that the "sex war" led to Jon's death. Even though none of us were charged in his death, I will still forever feel as if I have Jon's blood on my hands, and Alexa and Natsumi feel the same.

There is definitely now a new meaning of silence.

WFEATHER
WFEATHER
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AmazonBeauty1966AmazonBeauty1966over 5 years ago
Whoa!

What a twist for the ending!! Very good ~ thank you Sir!

AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
Fuck jon

I would be happy such a dumbass is dead. The michelle shouldnt have left though. Thatvwas pretty weak.

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago

Well written, but way too dark for my tastes.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 13 years ago
Well Shit!

If old Jon can't take a joke, fuck him.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
no one said they felt responsible

but it is still sad to remember someone died, even if he was already disturbed mentally and probably would have done it anyway.

sometimes when i hear a screach of braking tires, i remember a kid hit & killed by a car near my house - not mine, not my fault, it just happened nearby. but one still remembers, and wishes it hadn't happened to the kid.

it is a bit poignant when a sad/bad memory of a death even if not your fault gets attached to something as lovely a crys of sexual bliss.

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