Flynn grumbled at himself as he ran water over his hand under the kitchen tap. In his completely distracted state this evening, he had reached into the oven to remove the cannelloni, somehow forgetting to wear oven mitts. He only touched the ceramic casserole dish for a mere fraction of a moment, yet he jumped back, growling in anguish before hopping over to the sink to flood cold water over his singed hand.

“This poor hand,” he thought to himself as he massaged it. “It’s been taking such a beating the past few days.”

He cringed. Did he really just think that?  

Yes, he did. And, it was true, his hand experienced quite the workout in the short time since he caught his next-door neighbor reading some erotically charged story with that infatuating voice of hers. It was as if he had just rediscovered the joys of ‘squeezing the bat’ over the last few evenings… and daytimes… as he repeatedly imagined her on top of him or under him telling him dirty stories.

But that was just the start of a succession of surprises, the type that got his heart pounding and blood racing. As he towelled off his hand, he ran through them, all doozies but starting from the least shocking.

She knew his name. He’d figured she’d eventually find out, but still, he had hoped for the opportunity to introduce himself properly. She had left a package which arrived for him at his door. How did he know that she was the Good Samaritan? From the note that she left with the package which was also an invitation to ‘dinner’ on their balconies. So she also knew he was his neighbor already, for crying out loud.

He was really lagging behind, but that wasn’t even the biggest wallop to his brain, though.

No, that occurred before the whole name and invitation and neighbor stuff, and it happened during a video conference for work.

That morning:

“Alright, that’s great, Cam. Forward the data scan to Flynn for review when you’re done. Flynn, do you think you could have the initial draft outline of the presentation done by tomorrow? Then we can start work on the slides and script after I review it. Alright? Flynn?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” Flynn shook himself, distracted by a ball of lint rolling on his makeshift desk as he sat by the sliding door to his apartment balcony. He blinked his eyes wide, refocusing on his laptop screen and replied to his supervisor and colleagues, “Tomorrow for sure.”

“Great,” his supervisor said. “Next item on the agenda, then: training schedules...”

And Flynn was gone again, his eyes drifting out over his balcony to the beautiful sunshine outside. His brain was just not made to concentrate during video conference calls and with no colleagues to give him a gentle kick under the table to wake him up, his mind was ripe for mental walkabouts.

Finding the sound of voices coming through his headphones to be too annoying, he hit his mute button and unplugged them so that the audio came through the laptop speakers. He redoubled his efforts to stay focused.

A minute later, he wondered what Molly was doing.

As if on cue, he heard her voice. He tilted his ear up slightly while still staring at his screen.  She must have been right by her open window. The sound of his neighbor’s honey-silk tones came to him clear as the air, and it didn’t take him long to realize by her smooth cadence and sultry timbre that she was reading another one of those sexy stories aloud.

Shit. This was going to be impossible to even fake paying attention to the meeting. He widened his eyes towards the laptop, feigned alertness, and hoped for the best. He tuned the conference out like so much white noise, committing his attention to the voice coming from next door.

Flynn listened to Molly read aloud a very naughty little tale, something about a couple screwing in the laundry room. He grinned. As if her telling racy stories wasn’t enough, sex against a washing machine was a personal fantasy of his.

With the image from their first meeting in the apartment’s laundry room ingrained in his head, he easily withdrew deeper into his daydream as Molly’s impromptu storytime weaved its magic. He pictured himself hoisting her onto the rumbling washing machine, digging his fingers into her back and bare ass as she wrapped her creamy legs around his waist, pulling him in with each thrust of his hips. He felt her soft, warm lips pressed against his mouth, gasping between kisses, imploring him for more. The sensation of her tight, damp pussy slipping over his stiff cock was all too real.

Just as quickly, he envisioned them captured in a new position with him standing behind her, holding locking her arms at the elbows with his forearms, clutching her long red hair in a tight grip. He had free rein now, grimacing with harsh intent while filling her with swift, fervid strokes, each ending with a sharp smack of his crotch against her blushing butt.

Flynn swallowed and grit his teeth. God, it was all too vivid, and as he listened to her read the story aloud, he realized something else. 

It was all too familiar.

“Holy shit.”

“Flynn? Sorry, did you have something to ask?” his supervisor asked. “I can see you said something, but you’re muted.”

Flynn’s heart was going a hundred miles per hour, and he was all too aware of the rigid throb of his be dripping cock.  He struggled to get his mind into gear, but finally surrendered and mentally just said, 'Fuck it.'

“Sorry. Not feeling well, Gina. Gotta go!” he blurted, still not having unmuted himself, and shut down the conference.

He slammed the laptop shut and slumped back in his chair, his eyes wide and glassy. He could still hear Molly speaking, then moaning and groaning. As he feverishly rubbed his hard shaft through the crotch of his slacks, his thoughts were in turmoil, not just by her scandalous cries of pleasure, but also due to the story that she read. 

Because he had written it.

Now...

Flynn managed to settle a bit as he plated the cannelloni. Cooking always had a way of focusing his thoughts.  

He was still dumbfounded about the notion that somehow, through some incredible coincidence, Molly had found one of his old stories to read aloud. As he was just a few moments away from properly ‘meeting’ her, it gave way to a slight thrill in his gut. She had gotten off on one of his fantasies. That was a lot to register, but what could that possibly mean for the two of them going forward?

He checked the clock. It was already past seven. No time to dwell on his thoughts any longer, he grabbed a bottle of wine and tucked it under his arm, then took the two dishes of cannelloni from the kitchen counter. He walked out onto the balcony where Molly was, hopefully, still waiting for him.
 

~Molly~

Molly downed two glasses of wine and was beginning to spiral into the thoughts of, ‘He’s not coming, he has a girlfriend, and oh no, he really doesn’t like women,’ when she caught his shadow growing in the dim light. Butterflies filled her tummy and she lost her appetite. The excitement and nervousness were too much. 

He smiled and her breath caught. Wow, he was handsome. How in the world did she ever think she was supposed to have a coherent thought with him looking like that?

She stood and took a step forward, but caught herself and froze. “Hi, Flynn. I’m glad you could come.” 

Her smile was big and bright. ‘You sound like an idiot,’ she scolded herself but kept her smile in place.

“So, it’s nice to finally meet again,” Flynn said. “I can’t believe we turned out to be next-door neighbors.”

“I know, but I’m glad it turned out to be you. After Mrs. Kersh passed, I was worried about who I would get," without taking a breath she continued rambling, "What's that? Is that cannelloni?"

“Yes, it is, actually. You have a good eye and nose. I also brought a bottle of wine,” he said, then frowned. “Now I realize maybe we shouldn’t be exchanging food? Also, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to pass it over to you. Maybe I can get my tennis racquet.”

Molly laughed. "That was thoughtful of you. Can I get it to go? You can wrap it up after dinner and put it by my door.”

“Sure thing. And I see you already have a glass of wine, so I won’t have to toss the bottle over.”

Molly offered a coy shrug of her shoulder towards her chin. “You can leave that bottle of wine by my door, too." 

While they ate, they shared the basic niceties of casual conversation. The normal questions of where they worked and how things are currently different for their jobs. Flynn asked about Mrs. Kersh and Molly was all too happy to share stories about her.  

Once dinner was over and the plates were set aside the conversation slowed a bit and the silence of the city seemed to settle in around them. 

“What’s been the hardest part about self-isolation for you?” Molly asked softly, breaking the silence.

“Oh, I miss my Friday nights out on the town,” Flynn replied. He winked and continued, “You know, ballroom dancing, Bridge with the ladies at the country club, those sorts of things.”  

She giggled. “You don’t strike me as your typical bridge player.”

Flynn shook his head and chuckled. “No, seriously, it’s just simple human interaction that I miss. I’m tired of the video calls and the messaging. Even phone calls. It’s just not the same as speaking to someone in person, being with someone you really want to be with.”

Molly nodded. She hesitated for a moment, but couldn’t help but ask, “Is there someone…" she looked down at her lap. "Special you want to be with?”

“You mean like a girlfriend? No,” he said. “Or did you mean like my mother?”

She looked up with a pleased smile and nodded, "Definitely your mother." 

He opened his mouth and closed it.  Then opened it again, hesitated, and then asked, "Do you have someone you want to be with?"

Molly nodded and took a sip of wine, "Tom Hardy. That's a no brainer, but as far as a boyfriend, no, there's no one."

The silence once again filled the space as they stared at each other from across their balconies. It wasn't uncomfortable, in fact, it was far from it.  There was a slight charge passing between them, even at a distance.  

'If we were close enough to touch, this would be the moment of our first kiss.' The thought caused a shiver to move throughout her body ending in a warm throb between her legs.  She blushed and looked down. 

Flynn cleared his throat and a second later he asked, "How have you been keeping yourself busy?"

Molly looked back up at him and the internal struggle of, 'Do I tell him or not?' burst through her. 

Blushing, she decided honesty would be the best policy. "Well, you see, you know that I write, but I also do audio stories for people."

He nodded. “Mmm. Interesting,” he mused, then quickly added, “I mean, that makes sense. You have a great voice for reading aloud.”

Molly tilted her head and smiled.

He asked, “So... Where do you get those stories from?”

There was something in his tone, but she wasn't sure what.  “They’re from an online erotic stories site."

“Oh?"

She fiddled with her fingers. She normally didn't share the name of the site with anyone. It was her special place to get away and just be her without judgment, but there was something about him that made her want to share.  

"Lushstories."

"Right. Of course," he said softly. 

Molly raised her eyebrows. “You’ve heard of it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, I have, actually. I haven’t visited in a long time but I remember reading some great stories on the site. Some pretty hot stuff. Have you shared stories there?”

She paused, holding a coy grin before finally nodding. A light blush bloomed on her cheeks. 

“I've also shared some of mine on there as audio stories too. Those went over quite well,” she said. “Some readers started making special requests for me to read aloud some of their favorite stories. With the permission of the owner, I do."

"Without permission from the actual author?"

"Well, no. Not always. I mean if they have a problem with it, I'll take it down. Besides most don't and I tend to avoid the more problematic writers."

“That makes sense,” he replied with a nod. 

She stood and looked at the stars. He seemed to take the news that she read erotic stories very well. Could he have heard her and already knew? Molly glanced towards him and he was watching her. She blushed a little even though in the soft glow of her living room light she couldn’t be sure he could see her that clearly. 

‘Just ask him if he heard you,’ she argued with herself. 

“Flynn?”

“Hmm?”

At the last second, she chickened out. “Did… Nevermind.” She walked away and into the shadows a bit more wondering that was something she really wanted to know. 

“Molly? Why do you do audios?” 

She turned back to him and walked back to where she had been standing. “Audios in general or erotic audios?”

“Erotic. What got you started in that.” 

Her hands slid along the railings and she gave him a quick embarrassed smile before looking up at the stars. “Well, to be honest, and I can’t believe I’m going to admit this to you, but it’s sort of a kink of mine.” 

Molly glanced a quick look at Flynn and because he hadn’t moved she continued, “I am very…” she waved her hands in front of her like she was trying to find just the word. “Vocal. When I write erotica, ultimately my end goal is for my readers to find their end so to speak. So if adding my voice to it helps achieve that goal a little faster then I’m all for it.” 

“You don’t mind that people get off to your voice?” Flynn asked softly. 

She turned and faced him. When their eyes locked, the spark between them reignited. She felt it even at this distance. It was a tug deep behind her belly button and it caused her to take another step closer. 

“No.” Her voice was soft but firm in her answer. There was a slight quiver to it as she continued to look at him. “In fact, it turns me on knowing that it does. It is an intimate part of me that I’m able to share and knowing I am the reason you have found pleasure…” Her eyes lowered for a moment and before looking back at him. “It gives me pleasure.” 

The word pleasure was whispered, pushed out almost like a gasp.

There was silence between them for a moment as the connection flared. She wanted to climb over that gap and kiss him. At that moment she couldn’t think of any time in her life she had ever wanted to kiss someone more and couldn’t. 

Flynn cleared his throat and stepped closer to his railing and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of bells came from inside his apartment. His eyes closed and stood still for a moment while the sound broke the ever-building tension between them. 

“I have to get that,” his voice was gruff as if his throat was dry. “It’s my mother. Told you I missed her.”

The sound of his voice flowed along her skin as if he had touched her. “Of course.”

“Thank you for this.” He motioned between them as he stepped back towards the sound that had grown harsh to her ears. 

“Of course,” she said again. 

“I’m sorr-” he started, but she held her hand up to stop him. 

“Go get your phone. We will see each other again soon.” 

He nodded and went into the apartment. 

Molly sighed at how quickly it all seemed to have ended, but there was no stopping the smile that spread along her face. She quickly cleaned everything up and went inside. 
 

~Flynn~

This was nice. That understatement may have seemed like Flynn wasn’t enthusiastic about meeting Molly on their balconies but nothing was further from the truth. 

Alright. So, this was really nice.  

From the moment he stepped outside and looked over to her and saw that inviting smile, it felt like a cozy blanket had been wrapped around his shoulders. The only thing that could have possibly made it better would have been for her to join him under that blanket.

As they ran through their introductions --proper introductions-- they both seemed a little anxious at first, rushing a bit through their words. Flynn could only hope he was able to mask his other earnest telltale signals as he fumbled over offering his cannelloni to her. It would have required a small feat of daredevilry to actually pass it over between their balconies. Molly, being obviously more clear-headed about things, suggested he leave some at her front door afterwards. 

After that, the conversation was as easy as whistling with the summer breeze.  Molly talked about the previous occupant of Flynn’s apartment, a senior lady named Mrs.Kersh.  They had gotten along quite well. Molly had often visited with her, checked in to see if she was alright, even dropped off some groceries from time-to-time. They had also met out on their balconies and chatted often, just as she and Flynn were doing now.

Mrs.Kersh probably wasn’t as infatuated with Molly the way Flynn had instantly become, though.  The only thing better than hearing her speak was being able to be with her and see her when she spoke.  It added a whole new dimension to her seeing her lovely eyes widen with enthusiasm, narrow when she was intrigued, or curve when she smiled.  He was particularly drawn to her lips; the ones that formed the words of the stories she had read aloud with sultry zeal. If he could will their balconies together, the first thing he would want to do would be to touch those lips with his own.

At some point in their inevitable discussion about the trials and tribulations of self-quarantining, Molly asked him if there was someone he missed being with. Though he played it cool, he was pretty sure that was her subtle way of checking if he had a girlfriend. Of course, he immediately needed to do his own check.

"Do you have someone you want to be with?" he asked, raising his brows as he ran his finger along the edge of his glass.

"Tom Hardy. That's a no brainer, but as far as a boyfriend, no, there's no one."

For a millisecond, Flynn’s heart dropped when he heard “Tom Hardy”. It instantly lifted again when she said “no one”, then he remembered Mr. Hardy from the Mad Max and Inception films.  Good company to keep.

Flynn looked down at his glass while trying to temper his grin from knowing Molly wasn’t attached to anyone at the moment.  It was a challenge. He felt a nervous energy course through his legs and loins as if he was ready to leap over to her right then, press her up against the wall, tangle his fingers in the tempting, soft curls of her hair, and inhale her with a smouldering kiss. He tapped his fingers on the balcony railing attempting to distract himself from his racing imagination.

A question came to mind. To anyone else, it would be mundane, but for Flynn, it was a risky inquiry. Yet, he felt compelled to ask, "How have you been keeping yourself busy?"

He noticed her pause when she regarded him. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, focusing through the distance between them, and detected a bit of colour warming her cheeks.

"Well, you see, you know that I write, but I also do audio stories for people," she said.

Flynn paused then said, “Mmm. Interesting.” Realizing that was a pretty innocuous comment, he quickly followed up, “I mean, that makes sense. You have a great voice for reading aloud.”

When she tilted her head aside with a curious smile, he thought he might have given too much away about hearing her from his apartment, so he threw in another question, “So... where do you get those stories from?”

She told him it was from an online stories site, Lushstories.

Flynn was very familiar with it, and again, it showed in his reaction. “Right. Of course,” he said.

“You’ve heard of it?”

Shit, he thought. Thinking fast, he shrugged and said, “Yeah, I have, actually. I haven’t visited in a long time but I remember reading some great stories on the site. Some pretty hot stuff. Have you shared stories there?”

Again she blushed. Each time she did just served to wind him up even more. He kind of felt like he was walking a tightrope at this point but the exhilaration was too good to pass up.

She told him that not only had she written stories for the site, but she had shared some of them as audio stories --Flynn made a mental note to check those out later-- which led to the requests by other members for her to read some other stories from the site. 

She mentioned that she got permission from the authors of the other stories before doing so. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to have her sexy voice enhance their stories, Flynn thought.  Although she hadn’t done so for his story, it wasn’t really her fault. He had shut down his account shortly after posting it so there was no way to reach him. And good Lord, was he ever glad she went ahead and read it anyway.

After Molly had shared the details of her hobby to Flynn, he took a moment to let it all soak in.  He smiled, revelling in these feelings of intrigue and excitement swelling inside of him, knowing she enjoyed his story without realizing it was his.

He watched her looking up at the stars that had peeked out through the dark sky. A light breeze blew through her hair, and she mindlessly pulled it back around her ear and neck. During this momentary pause in the conversation, his longing for this warm-spirited, sensually-minded woman doubled over.

Caught up in his thoughts, he blinked when she called his name, “Flynn?”

“Hmm?’

“Did… Nothing.” She stopped and took a few steps aside on her balcony.

He couldn’t guess what she was going to say, so instead, he asked why she did audios, erotic ones specifically. He realized it was kind of an odd question, and he felt like a kid going back to the candy jar after already having his sweets, but he couldn’t help it.  Fortunately, Molly was forthcoming and willing to share.

She admitted it was a “kink” of hers. Flynn noted the obvious enthusiasm she had for the activity with her hands and eyes animated and expressive as she explained her process when doing it for the enjoyment of others.

“I am very… Vocal,” she explained.

Flynn slid his jaw aside and looked up when she said that.

Still seeking more from her, he boldly asked, “You don’t mind that people get off to your voice?”

Molly turned to him. In the evening darkness, her eyes were like beacons, seizing his attention. He froze in anticipation of her response.

“No.” The resolve in her voice was apparent, the subtle tremble indicative that she not only meant it, she enjoyed it. Her tone steadied to a soft, deep rhythm as she continued to explain how reading erotica, and reading it for others, was a turn on for her. It mesmerized Flynn to listen and watch someone so comfortable and confident when discussing the things that they found arousing and sexual.

Her eyes levelled with his when she breathed out and said, “It gives me pleasure.”

Fuck. Flynn felt that. Like a hand suddenly grasping and gripping his cock, he felt that. His mouth slipped ajar as he breathed through his lips. He was drawn to her eyes and her parted lips as she turned fully to face him. The need to kiss this woman, to feel her touch, and to hold her in an intimate embrace was driving him crazy.  Being isolated from direct human contact for the past few weeks wasn’t helping. Quarantine or not, he really was ready to jump over to her side right this moment.

He took a step towards her.

That’s when his phone rang. He recognized the tone. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, shaking it.

“I have to get that,” he rasped. 

“Of course,” she said softly.

He cleared his throat, looked up, and sighed, “It’s my mother. Told you I miss her.”

Molly was completely understanding. She shook her head as if coming down from her own moment of distracted thoughts, smiled, and told him to go get the phone.

Feeling both as if a sudden weight had come off his chest and a screwdriver was twisting at his lower gut, Flynn thanked her for the evening and hurried into his apartment to answer the phone.

Talking with his mother for an hour about her boredom and mundane daily routines had a calming effect on him, sort of like throwing a bucket of ice water on an overheated engine. He probably needed it. What exactly had he intended to do at that moment if she hadn’t called?

He went back out on the balcony to pick up his cold dishes and glass and checked over towards Molly’s side. Her balcony was clear and he noticed the lights inside the apartment were dimmed. 

He regarded the cannelloni. It didn’t appear very appetizing at this point having sat on the balcony all this time; the cheese and oil all congealed.  He decided he would make her a new batch to leave at her front door tomorrow. However, he did grab an unopened bottle of wine and walked it over to her apartment. He left a note in an envelope beside it: “Thanks for this evening. Next invite is on me. Maybe we can save this bottle for when we can share it together? –Flynn”

When he returned to his apartment, he cleaned up his kitchen and went for a shower. Emerging from the bathroom, he cinched a towel around his waist while he dried his hair and upper body. Thoughts of Molly still fresh on his mind, he had pulled himself from the shower abruptly feeling invigorated and restless.

He fell back on his sofa, the cool air from his open balcony door blowing across his chest, and browsed his cellphone. Calling up the Lushstories site, he smiled upon seeing the familiar front page for the first time in years. 

After he had posted a few stories including the one that Molly had read, The Sound of Dirty Laundry, the response from readers had really surprised him. Most of the feedback was positive, very enthusiastic and encouraging. Buoyed by the readers’ support and his excitement for his hobby, he eagerly showed the stories to his new girlfriend, Leila.

She was not very enthusiastic or encouraging of it.

Leila didn’t understand his interest in reading stories like that let alone waste his time writing them. Following a terse discussion about it, Flynn was convinced that she was right and immediately deactivated his account, never writing again. 

It only required a moment to reactivate it now. After quickly checking his old profile page --he needed to update his musical interests ASAP-- he searched for Molly’s profile. There were several variations of “Molly’s” active on the site, but after reading through the details and a few stories quickly, he was pretty sure he had found his neighbor. The vibrant writing, the lush imagery and the provocatively confident sensuality and sexiness of the stories were unmistakable. There was also a selection of audio tales.

After taking a moment to select one, A New Year’s Surprise, Flynn donned his earphones and settled back. The moment she began to read he was absolutely certain he had found the right “Molly”.

Sweet Lord, listening to her tell the story was lit a fire in him immediately. It was an explicitly sordid, dirty little tale of two people longing to be together but separated by forces beyond their control; it really hit home. Molly poured herself into the story as she read it. Her storytelling was intimate, almost a sultry whisper with a languid drag from her throat that just tickled his ear and rattled him down through his entire body.

When Molly read, “Are you not having fun?”, Flynn tugged apart his towel, flopping it open at the sides of his bare hips. He gathered his cock and drifted his hand along the length with steady strokes as he continued to listen, staring fiercely at the blank wall on the other side.

It was a short story, but he could barely keep it together by the time the two illicit lovers had their scandalous encounter in a coat check room. Listening to her emote and swear with groans and moans that just crawled and clawed their way up his bare body, he tugged roughly at his cock, kneading it to fully hardened attention. Words like “fuck” and “pussy” popped and hissed past her lips, the filthiness and arousingly stark contradiction to her normally sweet, cajoling tones. 

He wondered if her heart was racing like his as she read it. Was she touching herself? It didn’t matter, because that’s what he envisioned in his head.

With the earphones on and volume up, Flynn couldn’t hear his own loud breaths and grunts, his growling “fuck” through gritted teeth. He was no longer picturing the characters of the story; didn’t even remember their names. It was him. It was Molly. They were in the laundry room fucking.

As the story and Molly reached their climax, Flynn’s legs strained as he gripped his cock firmly, stroking the tip with his thumb. He grunted then shuddered as his gut strained. Groaning aloud, his hand and twitching belly was soon covered with cum. Eventually, he slumped deep into the cushions of the sofa, spent.

“It gives me pleasure,” she had said.

She had no freaking idea.