It became the ticking clock in Eve’s dreams. The sounds that came through the wall of her apartment every Friday night. The sound of someone getting spanked.
She had moved into the little apartment six months before, and although the walls were thin and everything was crooked in the ancient building, she had never had much to complain about. No loud parties, no music late at night, but a few months in she heard the Friday night spankings.
She didn’t know what it was at first, maybe a fight? There wasn’t any yelling though, just a low bassline of seductive music and the rhythmic slapping. Sometimes Eve would put her ear right against the cool eggshell paint and listen. Slap, slap, slap, and then a high whine.
Could it really be the mousy girl she had seen in the hall? The one with brown bangs falling in her eyes and an oversized sweater?
Sometimes there would be moaning after. Did they fuck? Were they doing something else? Some kinky thing Eve couldn’t even imagine?
She would listen with a hand between her legs, picturing some faceless man holding that mousy girl down, forcing his cock into her. Sometimes, in her mind, it was Eve herself doing the spanking. Sometimes Eve was the one getting spanked. She pictured many things as she pressed her body to the wall and silently begged for more sound, more information, more.