I never thought exploring desire and sexual voyeurism would begin with the sound of my roommate having sex on the other side of the wall...
Last Saturday night my roommate came home with a guy. They looked tipsy. Flushed and loose. I was on the couch, half-watching TV, half-watching them. I could tell right away just by how their bodies moved in sync from the front door to her bedroom: they were going to have sex.
My girlfriend wasn’t home, so it was just the three of us in the apartment: me, my roommate, and this dude she was about to hook up with. We live in an older building where the walls are thin, and our bedrooms share one of them. So yes, I heard them. And not just because of our shared wall. I listened.
At first, I felt turned on. I’ve always been drawn to the sound of pleasure, especially vocalization. There’s something deeply erotic to me in hearing someone surrender like that. I want that aliveness, that no holding back. I want it for myself. Is it in me? Maybe I question it because I spent most of my life pretending to orgasm with men.
I thought about what position they were in, I passed judgement on the guy… “he was so squishy. Does she like that?” Then I felt disgusted with myself. Ashamed maybe. But not for long and I thought, “Fuck that. Go ahead girl!”
Listening to them have sex sent my brain in a good, but confusing, direction. I found myself zeroing in on her sounds. Not just any moaning, but the shape of her pleasure, how she held it in or let it out. I noticed how quiet she was, with little bursts of intensity. Like she was trying to be discreet but couldn’t quite contain it. That restraint made it hotter. It also made me wonder: was she faking it? Did she cum? What would I sound like if I fully let go during sex? Have I ever?
And somewhere in the middle of all that, I found myself thinking about my own sexuality. Listening through the wall wasn’t just sexual voyeurism; it was also a way of exploring desire I hadn’t admitted to myself. I thought about how long it’s been since I had sex with a man and whether I ever want to again. The truth is I don’t know. I really don’t.
But what I do know is this - I’m not willing to keep having sex that leaves me feeling disconnected. I want more. To know what I like and feel what I like. Where's the confidence to be selfish and bring that selfishness into intimacy?? I want to create something with my partner. Something real and playful and curious! I have no fucking idea how to do that.
Listening through the wall wasn’t just voyeurism, it was a reminder that I’m searching. That I get to search.
She texted the next day to apologize. There was nothing wrong with what she did, so what would I even say?
♡ Anna
