My Neighbor Made Love Every Night! So I Decided To...

I always believed it's in your best interest to have good relations with your neighbors. And now I believe it even more.

From Athena*, 28, actress

Late July, Pangrati, and in the usually rowdy apartment building, no one was left except for some elderly couples on the first floor. I was also stuck working at a dreadful clothing store for grandmothers, which wouldn't close before August, and I had no life whatsoever. Let alone, of course, a sex life. To be precise, I didn't have a relationship that summer and all my friends were lounging on beaches while I was folding Depends and selling embroidered robes.

So, I was condemned to the home-store-home route with not a single person to go out with. Or even to talk to. I spent the evenings watching movies on the balcony – luckily I was in a penthouse and didn't feel suffocated by the concrete. I had even moved my bed outside and slept there, so that I, poor thing, could feel like I'd gone somewhere. That's how a week had passed since Athens had emptied out and I was about to die of boredom and heat. Until the evening when I finally heard sounds from the next apartment again.

The man in the next apartment was Grigoris. I had run into him a few times in the elevator since I'd moved into the building, but we exchanged formal greetings and he always gave me the impression that he felt terrifyingly wonderful to turn and look at me – a fact that made me deeply and truly dislike him. Grigoris had accustomed us to all-night sex sessions he had frequently, sending my sleep to hell, but also to scenes of terrible jealousy he caused all those women who thought they had come to stay. I almost hated him. But compared to the absolute summer necropolis of the apartment building, I preferred Grigoris a thousand times over. At least I wasn't so afraid of being alone in an entire building. If burglars broke in, who would save me, the ninety-year-olds on the first floor?

So, Grigoris had hurriedly returned from his vacation, as he said on the phone, because some chick had freaked out over some messages and had kicked him out of her country house. By evening, Grigoris had overcome his sorrow and his next victim was already on the next balcony giggling at his "jokes." I had properly pricked up my ears and was barely restraining myself from intervening in the conversation that, as expected, would end in sex. At some point I heard them get up and go inside.

My room shares a wall with Grigoris's room, so out of sheer boredom I decided to play a prank. I also went into my room and as soon as I heard the first thump thump of the bed against the wall, I started moaning loudly, while in reality I was doubled over with laughter. Every now and then Grigoris would stop to understand what was happening, so I would shut up. As soon as he started again, I'd give it my all and moan. When I realized we were about to "finish," I gave it everything, with the result that no one else finished except me. From next door, silence. I had ruined it for him and I won't claim that didn't arouse me a little.

After about ten minutes I heard his door close and her heels in the hallway. She had left. I felt a few pangs of guilt, which quickly dissipated when I went back out on the balcony and heard Grigoris having a good time by himself in front of the computer with something that sounded like amateur porn.

As much as I had laughed earlier, now I was gradually getting turned on. I had started to get wet. I pressed against the wall that separated us to hear the moans from the video and Grigoris's movements better. I slid my hand under my underwear and finished quickly, unable to suppress a sigh that betrayed my hiding place. I heard him jump up towards my side and I barely managed to get inside. I had ruined it for him a second time. So, I suddenly felt the desire to make amends.

As I was, with my hair uncombed, a short dress on and no underwear, I knocked on his door. He caught on immediately. Outside, the video was still playing. "It was me," I told him. He smiled as if I had brought it to him. He motioned for me to come in and I went straight to the balcony. I leaned my elbows on the railing and felt him come up behind me and press against me. He was still hard. "You didn't come for the view," he told me. I smiled and instead of answering, I lifted my dress. By the time he put on one of the condoms he had ready on the table, I had taken position. He entered me from behind with all the force of a man who had already been interrupted twice – and that was exactly what I wanted. I hurt from his intensity, but at that moment there was nothing better than having sex with my enemy standing up, on the open balcony, and hearing our voices echo over the empty city.

Since then, whenever I want us to repeat it, I just have to fake an orgasm from the comfort of my own home. After all, we're just a door apart.