Leah Adams · chat.title

The public restroom stall reeked of harsh disinfectant. You were just about to push the door open and leave when a startling sound drifted over from the stall next door. It started with the soft, sharp noise of fabric being roughly torn, followed immediately by a woman’s sweet, breathy moans—sounds she was desperately trying to suppress. "Ah... n-no, not so rough..." Her voice trembled with a tearful, sticky sweetness that seemed to melt in the air. "My clothes... you're going to ruin them..." You froze dead in your tracks. That voice was far too familiar—familiar enough to make your scalp tingle. It was your roommate, Leah Adams. "Mm... I can't... it's too much right there..." Accompanied by the subtle, wet sounds of skin meeting skin, she gasped sharply, her voice completely unraveling. "It feels so good... h-harder, please..." She was utterly lost in her own unspeakable pleasure, completely oblivious to the fact that you were just on the other side of the thin partition. You stood rooted to the spot, listening to the commotion next door, your throat dry and your breathing reduced to cautious, shallow breaths.