When I was younger I lived for a while with a guy who was a bit of an asshole. We got on fine, but he was arrogant, misogynistic, could be a jerk if things didn't go his way. Definitely the kind of guy that was obviously a bully back at school, and as an adult got into fights after a few drinks. But also a gym bro, good looking, big, and acted like it. No modesty in that department!

At that time, I was absolutely besotted by a girl who had clearly put me in the friendzone. She was beautiful, smart, really political, quite shy - really his total opposite.

On the rare occasion they met, she endured him. They were fine together, no arguments or shouting, but she tried to avoid being around him. She made it clear to me that, although she had no problem with him, she just didn't like guys like that. Men like him belonged consigned to the past as far as she was concerned.

As our rooms shared a connecting wall, you could hear everything in all too much detail when he had company - which was a lot. Sometimes we would make joking comments, usually we'd both just pretend it wasn't interrupting us.

As usual, he was fucking different girls most Thursday, Friday, and Saturdays. I'll admit, I started listening more intently, even finding it a turn on. One Friday night, I found myself jerking off a particularly loud and intense fuck next door.

Even though I had never heard her make noises like that before, somehow I knew, feel down, that it was her. Maybe it was a tone of voice or an accent I caught, but I knew. When I heard light footsteps towards the door, I opened my door a crack and it was confirmed.

We never spoke about it, me and her or me and him. She still insisted she hated him, but it wasn't the last time I listened to her fucking him.