As always, all participants are over eighteen
"Olá." Said a voice from nowhere, and not expecting to meet anyone I knew, I ignored it.
"Olá." It said again, so I looked up. Even in the dark and dimly lit street I could make out a curvaceous female shape leaning over the balcony looking in my direction and waving, clearly the owner of the voice.
It was my first visit to this typical Algarve holiday beach town, with its white buildings and bright blue door and window surrounds. I often took a walk round the narrow cobbled streets of the village at this time of night, once the heat of the day had gone, and the cool air of the night brings some welcome relief.
This particular night I had stopped by the local mini market, just before it closed, as I had remembered I was running out of gin and, of all things, breakfast croissants. So, armed with my purchases, I was on my way back to my compact holiday let and enjoying the sounds of the holiday makers enjoying whatever it is that holiday makers enjoy at that time of night.
As I looked up, the owner of the voice waved again and repeated the greeting.
"Olá. Boa noite." I replied, pretty certain that the owner of the voice was actually English, or at least English speaking.
"Don't know about that," said a slightly husky voice, "what you got there?"
"Croissants and gin." I replied, not knowing where this was going.
"Bugger the croissants but if you're willing to share the gin, you'll be helping a maiden in distress."
Maiden, I thought, might have been overstating it a bit, but what an invitation.
"Where do I leave my horse and shining armour?"
"Just outside number four, I'll buzz you up."
I made my way to the door of number four and there was an electric buzz as the gate came unlocked. I started up the narrow, winding, marble, stairs. There only appeared to be one door on each floor so by the time I got to number four I was short of breath and panting a bit.
She opened the door just as I arrived and ushered me in to the tiny but neat apartment.
"Welcome, Sir Galahad!" Said the owner of the husky voice, ushering me in with an exaggerated bow. She was a little younger than me, about thirtyish, with dark hair cut in a boyish style and a generous chest that was only just hidden by the rather short crop top. The stud through her navel naturally led your eyes down to the cut off denim shorts that were only just decent. Lovely!
"I'm not sure why I'm accorded this honour." I replied.
"Easy!" Said the husky voice. "Angie's pulled. She's in her room with Mr Beach Bar, and the spare booze is in there. I didn't want to disturb them and you walked by my window. Fortunately the tonic is here, so Sir Galahad, G&T?"
"Thanks."
We exchanged names as she poured the drinks, her journey to get the tonic had made it blindingly obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra as her, not inconsiderable, chest swayed delightfully.
Once I had managed to draw my eyes away, I couldn't help but notice that her shorts were so short that the crease of buttock was visible at the top of each leg. This was getting better by the moment. We sipped our drinks to the unmistakable sounds of Angie and Mr Beach Bar getting to know one another, really quite well.
The first gin went down easily, so I enjoyed another ogle as she went to fetch the refills. Because the walls were paper thin, the noises off were un-ignorable. They hadn't got to the bed creaking stage, but were definitely heading in that direction, judging by Angie's, clearly audible, squeals of delight.
"Oh shit Angie, for Pete's sake do try and be a bit more discrete!" Said my new friend in a hushed tone. Obviously Angie had no intention of being discrete and the sounds of humans mating only got louder.
I have to admit that I find overhearing real sex highly erotic. I had never met Angie or Mr Beach Bar, but two feet behind my head, just the other side of the paper thin partition, they were getting hot and heavy. I couldn't help imagining Angie on her on her back, knees in the air and Mr Beach Bar's face buried deep in her cunt, and judging by the noises, Angie was having a great time.
As we chatted and sipped our gins, the sounds changed to the more obvious ones. Yes, two people were clearly, actually, fucking. Female gasps and grunts in time to the squeaking of the bed left no room for doubt.
Taking stock, I realised how erotic this was. I had a G&T in hand, sat next to a rather scantily clad woman, whose breasts were swaying delightfully and whose bum creases had recently been on display, listening to two people, only inches away, fucking robustly. My cock was showing interest.
"I can't stand this any longer," said Jenna, "let's go for a walk and leave them to it." I reluctantly agreed, after all they were just getting to the good bit.
We knocked back our drinks and set off down those precipitous stairs to the path that lead to the beach.
"Sorry, but I find the sounds of Angie adding another scalp to her bedpost a bit tiresome." Said Jenna.
I was trying not to contradict my new friend but, hell, I had nothing to loose. Before I could think my mouth had already said,
"I actually found it quite erotic."
"That's the thing with men," she replied, "anything to do with bonking and they're there, rampant dick in hand and ready to go!" We removed our flip flops and continued across the wet sand.
"I disagree! I don't have a rampant dick, but there can be few things sexier than witnessing the sex act."
"What watching?"
"I should be so lucky. Generally, like Angie just now, overhearing, imagining and so on."
"So, here's my question. You are walking past an open window in summer and two people inside are obviously fucking. Do you stop and listen or walk on?"
"No contest: stop and listen."
"Really? OK question two. If you happened to be passing an open door and the couple inside were obviously fucking, would you watch or move on?"
"What are the chances of being discovered?"
"Pretty much zero."
"No brainer! Stop and watch."
"So you would intrude on their most private, intimate, moments?" As she looped her arm into mine.
"No, not at all. If they were truly private moments, they would have closed the door."
"So you're saying they wanted to be watched?"
"No, simply that the fact that they might be, was adding a certain frisson to their shagging."
"So, have you ever done it?"
"What watched?"
"Yea."
"Certainly! That's how I know it's so hot."
"So, given a choice, would you have stayed and listened?"
"Why not? They clearly knew you were there. They made no attempt to disguise what they were up to. It probably heightened their excitement."
"You're actually a bit of a perv then, aren't you?"
