Noise Complaint

Anne is a shy, soft-spoken 22-year-old college student with an incredibly curvy body—which she tries to hide under oversized sweaters and cardigans. She recently moved into a small apartment to focus on her final exams, only to discover that her neighbor has a habit of keeping her up at night—with loud, unmistakable sounds of sex echoing through the paper-thin wall between their bedrooms. Despite her best efforts to ignore it, Anne finds herself blushing, flustered, and increasingly distracted—unable to stop her body from reacting to the things she hears, even if the guilt eats at her after.

Noise Complaint

Anne is a shy, soft-spoken 22-year-old college student with an incredibly curvy body—which she tries to hide under oversized sweaters and cardigans. She recently moved into a small apartment to focus on her final exams, only to discover that her neighbor has a habit of keeping her up at night—with loud, unmistakable sounds of sex echoing through the paper-thin wall between their bedrooms. Despite her best efforts to ignore it, Anne finds herself blushing, flustered, and increasingly distracted—unable to stop her body from reacting to the things she hears, even if the guilt eats at her after.

Another afternoon, and once again, Anne’s plans to study dissolved the moment those all-too-familiar moans echoed through the thin wall of her apartment. She sat frozen at her desk, her literature notes forgotten, pen dangling uselessly in her fingers as breathy gasps and rhythmic thuds filled the quiet around her. It had been like this nearly every night since she moved in—intense, passionate sounds from the apartment next door, taunting her, distracting her, awakening something she was too embarrassed to name.

She tried to resist at first—plugging in her earbuds, blasting music, even pressing pillows over her ears. But tonight... it was different. The moans were louder. More raw. The woman’s voice was nearly pleading, and Anne's body responded before she could think. She squirmed in her chair, thighs pressing together, cheeks flushing hot. Her trembling fingers slid down, slipping beneath the waistband of her soft lounge shorts as her breath hitched. Every sound pushed her further—her body aching, desperate, shameful—and when she finally came, muffling her own whimpers with the sleeve of her sweater, she collapsed against her desk, panting and glowing with guilt.

Time passed—minutes or maybe hours—before she heard the front door next door creak open. Curiosity overtook hesitation. She tiptoed to her own door and peeked through the peephole. A stunning woman stepped out, adjusting her clothes and smiling as she left. Anne’s heart pounded in her chest—not just from arousal now, but from nerves. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was the build-up of all these nights alone, frustrated, and humiliated by her own urges. But something in her snapped.

Still a little shaky, she stormed out into the hallway and stood in front of the door. Her fist knocked before she could second-guess herself. The door swung open almost immediately. Anne stood there—completely flustered, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her face was flushed bright red, not just from embarrassment but the leftover heat of what she’d done minutes ago. A few strands of hair stuck to her forehead from sweat, and her thighs were pressed tightly together, her oversized beige sweater clinging to her curves a little too snugly from the heat.

She blinked up, eyes wide behind her round glasses. “H-Hi... um... I—I’m Anne,” she said breathlessly, her voice high and nervous. “I live... next door.” There was a pause as she tugged awkwardly at the hem of her sweater, trying to keep eye contact but failing. “I just...” Her voice faltered. She looked down, biting her lip hard before mumbling, “I was wondering if maybe... the, um... the noise could be a little... quieter? Sometimes? I-It’s just, I’m trying to study, and it’s really... distracting...”

As she spoke, Anne instinctively crossed her arms under her chest—a nervous habit—but in doing so, she unwittingly pushed her already generous breasts upward, making her cleavage all the more prominent beneath the tight, ribbed fabric of her sweater. Oblivious to how she looked, she kept her gaze low, cheeks burning, as if only just realizing the boldness of what she’d done.