“Oh yeah…” Something nudged at Eliza’s consciousness. “Just like that….”

She groggily surfaced from the blackness of sleep and tried to stretch out, but her legs were tangled in the comforter. Eliza lapped at her dry mouth and a certain heaviness glued her limbs to the bed. She blinked open her eyes to dizzily look at the ceiling. It felt like she had been asleep for a lifetime, but when she rolled over to check her phone it was only 8pm.

A pang of guilt went through her all over again as she remembered that this was usually when she was still at work. She had wasted a whole day.

She rolled back over and sighed into the stagnant air. She still felt sticky with sweat and a slight throb left in her throat, though it was much better than earlier. She was preparing to try and drift off to sleep again when she heard the voice that had been wiggling through her dreams earlier: “Baby, right there!”

Eliza’s eyes flew open. The voice was breathy, coarse, and not quite as loud as last time but unmistakable nonetheless. Eliza’s cheeks flushed and her body thrummed with sudden liquid heat. Mickey was video chatting with her lover again (or something).

Eliza squirmed in place and looked at the wall. I shouldn’t listen, she told herself, but there wasn’t really anywhere else to go.

Mickey moaned sweetly again and Eliza squeezed her eyes shut, but the inside of her head was no escape. It just conjured images of the other girl, hot and sweaty and heaving, tits lewdly pinched upright, face contorted. Mickey was probably good at touching herself… Mickey probably knew just how to push herself over the edge.

The thought made Eliza’s lower belly hum with life and had her rubbing her legs together like a cricket.

“I want you,” Mickey announced with a hiss, “I want you inside me.”

A small whine escaped Eliza's parted lips. The line sounded a little like a bad porno, but she didn’t know anything about dirty talk herself, so maybe that’s just how lovers talked.

Mickey gave a delicate throaty groan and Eliza tried to draw the line. She kicked her comforter off so she could wiggle out of bed. I’ll go get my headphones, she decided, I'll give her some privacy.

Eliza unsteadily got to her toes and crept toward her bag on the floor. Her skin goose-bumped as she moved and she remembered that she was only wearing panties and a t-shirt. Had Mickey seen her like this? Eliza flushed all over again. She imagined herself: hair tangled, skin ruddy from fever, and legs bare and unshaved.

“It feels so good.” Mickey rasped. “It feels so good inside me, just like that.”

Eliza stumbled toward her bag, but found herself up against the opposite wall. The one closest to Mickey. She closed her eyes and leaned against it. Perhaps he was handsome. Perhaps he was nice. And good. And funny. Perhaps they were long-distance and used this to feel intimate.

He was probably some square-jawed man with stubble who went mountain climbing and wind surfing and could charm the gills off a fish. He’d tell her how beautiful she was and Mickey would yell into her microphone that she wanted him. That she was his.

Something twisted inside Eliza that made her lean more heavily on the wall. She wilted there and exhaled from a place deep within.

“Oh yeah?” Mickey answered some unseen question, and there was a smile in her panting words. “You think I can take it?” A buzzing sound erupted and Eliza tensed up. It must have been some sort of high-powered vibrator. “I’m so close.” She whined, “stuffed up so pretty for you.”

Eliza bit her bottom lip so hard it felt like it might split open and pour her out. Bleed her dry of everything she was. She rubbed her legs together again earnestly and considered Mickey's words. She must have had some toy inside her, legs wide, and spreading her pink lips like flower petals pushed aside. Eliza let out a whimper.

Just don’t touch yourself, she promised herself. As long as you don’t get off on it. Draw the line somewhere.

The shame was still thick and sticky in her veins as she listened.

Mickey whined, “this is going to feel so good. Ah!” The vibration noise changed pitches and Eliza squeaked. “Ah!” Mickey made a guttural noise, the vibrator probably pressed somewhere up against her flesh. It made Eliza dizzy with it, sick with it.

“Ahah!” Mickey was more breathless now, and less controlled with her moans, quieter somehow.

Eliza was almost fully pushed up against the wall, jammed there and frozen with her limbs heavy with sickness and head full of cotton. Her forehead pressed up against the wallpaper as if she was about to kiss it.

Mickey’s breathing was erratic, exaggerated, and pushed to the limit. Eliza pressed all the way up against the wall like a tiger in its cage and her hand drifted downward. Mickey, hair loose, face twisted, body vibrating with want and need and coming undone with every vibration.

“Aw,” Mickey made a final small noise and Eliza whimpered right alongside her without any of the release. This can’t be happening, she tried to resist, you can’t go crazy over your roommate.

It didn’t matter. Mickey exhaled after a long drawn out second and the next room went silent. Eliza was nothing but empty and straining for more. She prickled and her thoughts spun in unproductive circles.

Mickey spoke up again after another few moments and the loud vibration noises died off. Eliza normally wouldn’t be able to make out her exact words, but it was easier up against the wall.

“Did you guys like that? Yeah? Kind of a special treat.” The words were muffled, but Eliza caught most of them.

She cocked her head to the side and her piqued warmth subsided into curiosity. Mickey said a few more indistinguishable words before calling out a little more loudly. “See you next week!”

Eliza blinked a couple times before sitting back and pondering on that. Huh.

She turned bonelessly away and climbed back into bed, the thrill and shame of it sinking into her and making her curl up in a ball on the mattress. It couldn’t be avoided, she told herself and bit her lip again and this time did taste blood from her cracked skin. We have thin walls.

Eliza tried to force herself back into a sickness induced coma of sleep, but nothing but moaning and needy cries filled her head space. She lay awake, tasting the blood on her lip, thinking, and forcing her hands to not stray any lower.