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Provocative Whisper

It is nearly 2pm, we were both exhausted from my day of working from home, yours of cramming for that mid year exam, the degree you'd worked so hard for, lucky to get a place on the course. Our laptops sat across from one another at seperate ends of the table, surrounded by a mish mash of papers, as you suggest we grab some lunch. You scoot off to the kitchen, cheerily asking me what I want in a sandwich, unusually avoiding the discussion of what you are doing for yourself, I notice, but I do not say a word as I know you are eager to continue working.

You deliver my sandiwch to the table, mentioning you'd almost finished yours in the kitchen, I admire your enthusiasm to keep working and look forward to you joining me, only a few more hours before we were done for the day, one last push and your document with the aensers to the exam would be uploaded to the university server.

I am deep in my work as I barely notice you walk through the hall and begin to go upstairs, I had an error of judgement when I put it down to you just going to get something for your university work, too engrossed in my own to notice that the time you were spending up there was unusually turning from a minute into minutes. I keep grinding, that stupid form on the company intranet with the drop down box that you can't click on, it makes you slip my mind once more, until my stomach sinks when I hear you make a noise that doesn't exude somnolence. 

I feel locked in as I know what is going on, we are only housemates and I always assumed you'd keep your private matters to yourself. I pretend not to notice and spare you the embarrasment of coming up and asking if you are okay, recooperating after the heart sink, I try as hard as I will to not imagine you pleasing yourself, the few lustful moments I've had at looking at your curvaceous body come rushing back as I begin to feel aroused. 

A moan, with the tonality to communicate a wanting echoes softly down the staircase as I begin to wonder if my brain is tricking me about the sound of a vibrator. I can no longer concentrate as the anxiety sets in, my work now too scrambled to continue. The blur intensifies as I hear the hum change in rhythm, a deeper moan eminating slightly louder down the halls, the mental image of you rampantly thrusting your toy deeper inside of you sends shivers down my spine as I imagine you tearing your bra off to get more breathing space in your search for an orgasm.

I always kept you to my sweetest fantasy, and I feel hard as I hear you cum, never mentioning it once you returned, but I know that after our drunk confessionals over netflix at the weekend, you wanted to reveal yourself.      

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