My Neighbor Asked for Double Penetration

What does a person do when they discover that the neighbor upstairs is more desperate than a prisoner on conjugal visit day?

Well, I’ll tell you.

I’m not the only “crazy one” in my building. I have a neighbor upstairs who’s a real fun machine. Thirty-something, no kids, makes good money, and has an insatiable sexual appetite.

The chick is addicted to cock, to being fucked until she can’t walk straight the next day.

I’ll confess something: I’m nosy. Not the annoying kind who calls the police when someone plays music after 10 PM. I’m the kind who appreciates a good show when it presents itself… or rather, above my head.

I was on my balcony smoking a cigarette when I started hearing those unmistakable moans. My neighbor and her guy were on their balcony fucking without any discretion, as if they wanted the whole building to hear. Her moans echoed through the courtyard, loud and clear like a professional whore.

“Fuck, dude, fuck me harder… You should bring your friend so we can have one of those threesomes…” I heard her say between moans.

And him, in a tone that mixed possession with lust: “Today I’m fucking you alone, I don’t want to share you.”

Damn, I stayed there listening, feeling my own pussy throbbing. I found myself putting my hand inside my panties…

I didn’t even plan it. It just happened. One minute I was eavesdropping, the next I was touching myself in rhythm with her moans. It was like I was part of their moment without them even knowing. Or maybe they did.

Maybe she wanted me to hear it. Maybe she needed an audience.

The next day, I ran into her in the elevator. She was wearing sunglasses, her hair up in a lazy bun, and a smirk that screamed “I got railed.” She looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Sorry about last night. We might’ve gotten a little loud.”

I shrugged, smirking back. “Sounded like fun.”

She leaned in, lowered her glasses a bit, and said: “You should’ve joined.”

My stomach flipped. My legs went weak. My fantasies turned into an actual invitation. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. Was she serious? Was she just being playful? I didn’t know. But I wanted to find out.

A week later, I got my answer.

I heard her again. This time, more intense. Not on the balcony—inside. But the walls in this building are thin like paper. I could hear everything. The slap of skin, her screams of pleasure, the grunts of not one but two men.

She wasn’t kidding about wanting that threesome.

And then I heard it. The phrase that pushed everything over the edge.

“Give me double penetration. I want both of you inside me.”

I gasped.

I wasn’t even masturbating this time. I was frozen in place, biting my lower lip so hard it almost bled.

This woman had no fear, no limits. She was everything I wanted to be—unapologetically sexual, dominant in her pleasure, and unashamed of taking what she wanted.

The next morning, there was a note under my door.

It said: “Coffee at 11? My place.”

No name. No emojis. Just a time and an unspoken promise.

I showed up, heart pounding. She opened the door in a silk robe, legs bare, and no bra in sight. The smell of fresh coffee mingled with something darker—sex still lingering in the air.

We didn’t talk about the noises. We didn’t talk about her guests. We talked about books. Movies. Work. She had this cool energy, like she already knew she’d won whatever game we were playing.

As I got up to leave, she touched my wrist gently and said: “Next time, you don’t have to listen through the walls.”

I didn’t say a word. I just smiled.

Because I knew what she meant.

And deep down, I realized something. This wasn’t about jealousy. This wasn’t about shame.

This was about discovery.

About shedding the guilt that’s been drilled into us since puberty. About exploring pleasure without fear or judgment. About saying “yes” without a thousand questions trailing behind it.

Some people judge others for their sex lives.

Others… get invited to join.

And me?

Let’s just say my evenings got a lot more interesting.

And my hands? They’re not always the ones doing the touching anymore.