My Promiscuous Neighbor

Oh ... Yes ... Like that ... You are the best ...

They were at it again.

Ever since that young man had moved in next door, these sounds had frequently invaded my room.

It wasn't just that they were so loud, it was that once they began, they were sure to keep me up for half the night.

I hammered on the wall, hoping they would quieten down.

If anything, the noises only got louder.

I could feel myself getting angry. I was on the warpath.

I stormed outside and hammered on his door.

But I was not prepared for what I saw once it opened.

I shouldn't be privy to this, I thought.

After witnessing this, how can I be allowed to live?

"Sweetie, how's the house Mommy found for you? Do you like it?"

After graduating from university, my mom had bought me a house to live in.

The living room was split into two levels, which I really liked, but the wall was paper thin.

I could hear my neighbor's nighttime activities as clearly as if they were coming from my own TV.

I frequently worked late into the night trying to keep up with my busy job. By the time I got home, I was already exhausted. The last thing I needed was more disturbance.

Noise was something I couldn't bear.

"Open up. I'm here to check the meter."

I knocked on his door while using a voice modifier app on my phone to sound like a middle-aged man.

Hearing him come to answer, I fled.

There was a brief moment of quiet, but it didn't last long until the noises began once more.

Perhaps he was a satyriasis...

Noise pollution was a bugbear of mine. After a hard day at work, home was supposed to be my sanctuary from stress—my quiet place.

"Gasman, open up."

I tried his door again, hoping that this time it would have a lasting effect.

He opened the door immediately, clearly annoyed.

Peering out through the peephole in my door, I finally had the chance to take in this maniac who was keeping me awake with my own eyes.

He was dressed far more formally than I was expecting. Perhaps making the right impression when opening the front door was important to him ...

He had an elegant demeanor and gold-rimmed glasses.

As soon as he closed the door, the noises began again.

He obviously wasted no time picking up where he left off.

Judging by the sounds, he must have been quite skilled.

I rarely saw him leave his house.

Maybe I should quit my job and set up a stall on his doorstep selling "protection", I thought.

I doubt I'd need any other customers.

I couldn't help but admire this satyriasis. Most people might feel embarrassed by having their neighbor turn up in the night to ask them to quiet down, but he didn't let it stop him one bit.

My only remaining option was to call