Luc listens in

“Luc darling, would you clean Le Charior when you have a moment this morning?” Margot asked as she passed through the hotel lobby toward the front door. “I’m off to Oso’s for bread.”

Le Charior meant room #7, Luc knew. All the rooms had corresponding names, and he had them memorized by now. “Sure thing.”

Luc was sitting with Nora at the front desk, procrastinating on an essay for his art history class while she sorted the coming weekend’s reservations. The two watched Margot, elegant and breezy as ever in her pleated skirt and silk blouse, leave the lobby and cross the street between passing cyclists toward the bakery. “Looks like you have an excuse now not to do your homework,” Nora said cheerily.

The patio was empty, with chairs neatly ringing the tables. Dishes clinked in the kitchen and a warm breeze rustled the palm leaves. Luc crossed with the clattering housekeeping cart toward room #7 on the far side, and as he came to the door, noticed that the neighboring room, L’Amoureu, had its windows open and curtains drawn, which billowed with each gust of the breeze. Nora mentioned earlier that a couple had booked the room until the weekend. He let himself in to #7 and set to work stripping the bed.

Before he had finished shimmying the last pillow from its pillowcase, Luc heard a sound through the wall. There was no mistaking it, not after living at the hotel for the last year — it was the sound of a bed creaking quietly but rhythmically in the neighboring room. He was accustomed to overhearing the lovemaking of hotel guests (the Celandine had something of a reputation for it), but it usually happened when he was trying to sleep before an early morning of classes. This morning, however, he had nowhere to be but here, and the sound struck the young man as distinctly more arousing than annoying. He finished stripping the bed and pulled fresh linens from the cart, taking care to work quietly. The intensity of the creaking increased slightly, and a soft sigh came into the room, followed buy a determined-sounding grunt. Louder creaking ensued.

Luc felt an erection rise in his shorts, and just as he began considering what to do, a loud, clear moan arrived. “Oh my gosh baby, you feel so big.” It was a woman’s voice, and she drew out the vowels in a way that made him tingle. It almost sounded to Luc as if the couple was there in the room with him. He stepped over to the wall and pressed his ear to the cool plaster. Creaking, breathing, a guttural groan, the woman’s musical voice. “Oh fuck, that feels amazing.”

Without hesitation, Luc untied his drawstring and pulled his shorts and boxers down so his erection sprung out and slapped against his stomach. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and started stroking it slowly. He was so immediately horny that he didn’t give it much thought. Now the man’s voice. “Mmm, you look so good baby. You like when I make them bounce?”

“Oh fuck yes. Make my tits bounce.”

Luc felt weak in the knees. Playful dirty talk like that was a big turn-on for him. He matched his rhythm to the couple’s, sliding his hand from base to tip and back in a pumping motion. When he reached the base of his shaft and gave it a firm squeeze, the man grunted. Then came wet kissing sounds.

“I want you to go from behind.”

The bed creaked, and to Luc’s surprise, he heard the woman place her hands on the wall directly opposite his ear. She moaned as her partner slid inside. Luc felt himself throb.

“Oh my gosh, yes. Give me that big hard dick.”

He felt the man’s thrusts through the wall as the rhythm picked up. Luc kept pace with his hand, steadying himself against the bed with the other. He pumped enthusiastically as the woman’s beautiful, pleasure-soaked moans came through the wall to his ear. He was masturbating mere centimeters from this couple at the height of lovemaking. Needless to say, the arrangement was extremely exciting for the young man.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna make me come,” the woman sang. “Keep going.”

Luc felt a bolt of pleasure, and had to slow to keep from pushing himself over the fine edge he was riding.

“Fuuuuck. I’m coming.”

“Oh baby, I’m coming too. Here it comes.”

The thrusts slowed and the woman’s moans mellowed to satisfied coos. “That’s so much, baby.”

Luc kept pumping, and while vividly imagining the scene on the other side of the wall, easily pushed himself over the edge of orgasm. He grabbed an empty pillowcase and wrapped it around his erection just in time to come powerfully into the soft white cotton.

He quickly pulled his shorts back on and tossed the pillowcase into the hamper on his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. In the neighboring room, he heard the shower start. He washed his hands and checked his shorts for any accidental spots. “All good”, he said under his breath. Holy cow, that was a little crazy. The phone rang and his heart jumped to his throat. Flustered, he walked out to the nightstand and answered.

“L’Amoureu wants towels, mind taking them some?” Nora’s voice was even, and didn’t show any hint of suspicion.

“Sure thing,” Luc practically whispered, not wanting the neighbors to hear.

He went back to the mirror to look himself over. His heart was pounding. Now I have to knock on their door? He took a deep breath, retrieved two plush bath towels from the cart, and quietly left room #7. The door to room #6 was just past the open window. My gosh, what someone on the patio would have heard. He knocked. “Housekeeping.”

When the door opened a moment later, he stood face to face with a beautiful woman in her 30s, red hair tousled, wearing a white terrycloth robe tied loosely at the waist. She was taller than Luc, and although he didn’t lower his gaze, he sensed peripherally the wide opening of the robe and the expanse of bare, freckled skin exposed between her large breasts. He caught sight of the disheveled bed. “Here are the towels you asked for,” he said, trying to sound natural.

“Thanks, that was quick.” She smiled. “We love staying here, it’s such a lovely place.”

“Happy to have you,” Luc said, smiling back as she closed the door. He returned to Le Charior and quickly finished cleaning.

As he was wheeling the housekeeping cart back across the patio, Margot emerged from the lobby carrying a stack of crisply folded linens under her arm. “Here honey, a fresh supply.” The open collar of her silk blouse fluttered in the breeze. “Nora tells me you’re busy procrastinating — care to do Le Pandu next?”