I have used a baby monitor to listen in. The only danger is that others might tune to the unused FM frequency and hear as well.
Is it wrong for me to listen to them?
- Thread starter nwsdw40
- Start date
I have been in resort hotels, where I could hear the action from not only the two adjoining rooms, but from the room above, which is a testament to both shoddy construction and the aphrodisiac effect of being on vacation. The weirdest time I ever had, however, was when we were being heard fucking and talking.
An old college friend had invited several couples to his new vacation house, which was situated on an island. We showed up late Friday night, along with two other couples. Everyone had already eaten, so after some chit chat, we retired to our rooms. The next morning, the other two couples arrived and we all enjoyed a splendid brunch, which our host had catered, complete with attractive servers. I loved the expensive wine and fine food, enjoying the great company. But when my friend said something that he shouldn't have, something he could only know if he had overheard me telling my girlfriend the night before, which he only could hear if he had his ear pressed against our bedroom wall, which was unlikely, as his room was on another floor and far away (it was a huge six-bedroom house), I froze and thought of punching him out. The problem with being on the island was that you cannot drive off when you want to do so.
I excused myself, claiming that I needed to find a magazine article to show our host. I ran back into our room and searched for evidence. I found it in a cheesy-looking radio/alarm clock, which looked so very out of place amongst the expensive antiques and trendy artwork. Behind its grill lay a small microphone and at its back a second wire led out to a hole in the wall. The son of a b*tch had bugged our room, and, I assumed, all the other rooms. It was just the sort of thing that he would do, him being a lawyer and bastard, but then I repeat myself. I was about to rip the radio from the wall and throw the damn thing in his face and then charge out of his house, after telling the other two couples that they had probably been listened to the night before. But I didn't. I wanted better revenge, besides you couldn't just drive away, as there was this lame car ferry service that ran infrequently. I returned to the feast and claimed have failed to bring the magazine.
Later that night, after making some suitable sexual noises with my girlfriend, exclaiming how sexy her breasts and naked ass were, in the hope of getting his attention, I paused to talk to her about our host, asking her what she thought of him. She told me how she thought he was handsome and obviously successful, but she wondered why he was the only one without a partner. God is divine. She had given the perfect opening to talk about his love life. Much like Satan, I took an elaborate set of lies and leavened them with truth, true things I shouldn't have known, but I did.
Quite by accident, while getting a haircut a few years prior, I discovered that the woman cutting my hair had once dated our host and that he had dumped her, as he was too embarrassed to bring a hair stylist to his family's Thanksgiving meal. She spilled the beans, all the ugly beans, with my encouragement. Well, I had pocketed those true things and now I needed to dig them out and mixed them with pure BS, making a devilish potent amalgam. He had had one big love in his life, a woman that perfectly fit his ideal, being beautiful, educated, and having rich, powerful parents. She turned gay and they broke up, leaving him devastated for years. I claimed that she and I had fabricated the "turning-gay" story to save his feelings, that her supposed girlfriend was only a roommate, a roommate that I had even fucked and whom I could guarantee was not gay. I also peppered my tale with true tidbits about his sexual fetishes that the hair stylist had revealed to me years ago.
(I was about to deliver the speech that I had prepared in my mind the entire day, a speech about the big falsehood behind his career, but I wisely choose not to damn him, as he might have shot me afterwards.)
I told her that since felt that he was closer to being my brother than just a friend, I could never tell him the truth, I as could never be the one to tell him that the love of his life just hated him and thought he was worst lover in existence.
We then made wild, loud, prolonged sex. During which, she paid me lavish praise, which I didn't deserve, but once again God was divine and he was giving me one miracle after another. Knowing that we had a listening audience made me perform as if I were trying out for the new Olympic sport of Fucking and I wanted to prove that I would bring home gold. I usually hold back, but not that night; if the bed-boards broke, so be it. She stopped me after nearly an hour of fast and furious, proclaiming that her pussy was just too sore. Then, she delivered the sentence that I would have paid her hundreds of dollars to utter, "Remember you are much bigger than my ex was; it's true, it's true; I told you before, you are soft much bigger than he was hard."
I asked to tell me again how big her ex was and she made a three-and-a-half inch space between her thumb and forefinger, which he couldn't see thankfully. I told her that was a perfectly normal, average dick size, that our guest's penis probably wasn't that big. Before she could say something that would undo the damage I had just inflicted, I stuck my cock in her mouth.
The next morning, I didn't feel so great about the night before. I had launched many torpedoes in the dark; maybe none had hit their target. What if he had not listened into our room, but another room, as he had four to choose from? What if he had joined one of the couples, which was possible, as I did catch some odd tension between him and one wife? Damn. I wished that I had taken the direct route of damning him when I found the bug in our room. Now, that option didn't seem available to me, as he could claim that the bugs were part of an elaborate burglar alarm system, which was only activated while he was not living it his vacation house. I could mention him dropping the bit of evidence on Saturday afternoon, but Saturday seemed far away then. Timing is everything and that time had passed.
As I walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee, I ran into my old friend. He openly stared into my eyes. At first, I thought he was going to slug me, which I was prepared for, but he ended up hugging me and thanking me for being such a good friend. His breath stank of alcohol and he looked as if he had cried the entire night. We all ate another great brunch and I was happy to head home. As for him, he got over it, after a year or two, but then rest of his life began to unravel—something to do with illegal kickbacks for foreign clients.
An old college friend had invited several couples to his new vacation house, which was situated on an island. We showed up late Friday night, along with two other couples. Everyone had already eaten, so after some chit chat, we retired to our rooms. The next morning, the other two couples arrived and we all enjoyed a splendid brunch, which our host had catered, complete with attractive servers. I loved the expensive wine and fine food, enjoying the great company. But when my friend said something that he shouldn't have, something he could only know if he had overheard me telling my girlfriend the night before, which he only could hear if he had his ear pressed against our bedroom wall, which was unlikely, as his room was on another floor and far away (it was a huge six-bedroom house), I froze and thought of punching him out. The problem with being on the island was that you cannot drive off when you want to do so.
I excused myself, claiming that I needed to find a magazine article to show our host. I ran back into our room and searched for evidence. I found it in a cheesy-looking radio/alarm clock, which looked so very out of place amongst the expensive antiques and trendy artwork. Behind its grill lay a small microphone and at its back a second wire led out to a hole in the wall. The son of a b*tch had bugged our room, and, I assumed, all the other rooms. It was just the sort of thing that he would do, him being a lawyer and bastard, but then I repeat myself. I was about to rip the radio from the wall and throw the damn thing in his face and then charge out of his house, after telling the other two couples that they had probably been listened to the night before. But I didn't. I wanted better revenge, besides you couldn't just drive away, as there was this lame car ferry service that ran infrequently. I returned to the feast and claimed have failed to bring the magazine.
Later that night, after making some suitable sexual noises with my girlfriend, exclaiming how sexy her breasts and naked ass were, in the hope of getting his attention, I paused to talk to her about our host, asking her what she thought of him. She told me how she thought he was handsome and obviously successful, but she wondered why he was the only one without a partner. God is divine. She had given the perfect opening to talk about his love life. Much like Satan, I took an elaborate set of lies and leavened them with truth, true things I shouldn't have known, but I did.
Quite by accident, while getting a haircut a few years prior, I discovered that the woman cutting my hair had once dated our host and that he had dumped her, as he was too embarrassed to bring a hair stylist to his family's Thanksgiving meal. She spilled the beans, all the ugly beans, with my encouragement. Well, I had pocketed those true things and now I needed to dig them out and mixed them with pure BS, making a devilish potent amalgam. He had had one big love in his life, a woman that perfectly fit his ideal, being beautiful, educated, and having rich, powerful parents. She turned gay and they broke up, leaving him devastated for years. I claimed that she and I had fabricated the "turning-gay" story to save his feelings, that her supposed girlfriend was only a roommate, a roommate that I had even fucked and whom I could guarantee was not gay. I also peppered my tale with true tidbits about his sexual fetishes that the hair stylist had revealed to me years ago.
(I was about to deliver the speech that I had prepared in my mind the entire day, a speech about the big falsehood behind his career, but I wisely choose not to damn him, as he might have shot me afterwards.)
I told her that since felt that he was closer to being my brother than just a friend, I could never tell him the truth, I as could never be the one to tell him that the love of his life just hated him and thought he was worst lover in existence.
We then made wild, loud, prolonged sex. During which, she paid me lavish praise, which I didn't deserve, but once again God was divine and he was giving me one miracle after another. Knowing that we had a listening audience made me perform as if I were trying out for the new Olympic sport of Fucking and I wanted to prove that I would bring home gold. I usually hold back, but not that night; if the bed-boards broke, so be it. She stopped me after nearly an hour of fast and furious, proclaiming that her pussy was just too sore. Then, she delivered the sentence that I would have paid her hundreds of dollars to utter, "Remember you are much bigger than my ex was; it's true, it's true; I told you before, you are soft much bigger than he was hard."
I asked to tell me again how big her ex was and she made a three-and-a-half inch space between her thumb and forefinger, which he couldn't see thankfully. I told her that was a perfectly normal, average dick size, that our guest's penis probably wasn't that big. Before she could say something that would undo the damage I had just inflicted, I stuck my cock in her mouth.
The next morning, I didn't feel so great about the night before. I had launched many torpedoes in the dark; maybe none had hit their target. What if he had not listened into our room, but another room, as he had four to choose from? What if he had joined one of the couples, which was possible, as I did catch some odd tension between him and one wife? Damn. I wished that I had taken the direct route of damning him when I found the bug in our room. Now, that option didn't seem available to me, as he could claim that the bugs were part of an elaborate burglar alarm system, which was only activated while he was not living it his vacation house. I could mention him dropping the bit of evidence on Saturday afternoon, but Saturday seemed far away then. Timing is everything and that time had passed.
As I walking down the hall to get a cup of coffee, I ran into my old friend. He openly stared into my eyes. At first, I thought he was going to slug me, which I was prepared for, but he ended up hugging me and thanking me for being such a good friend. His breath stank of alcohol and he looked as if he had cried the entire night. We all ate another great brunch and I was happy to head home. As for him, he got over it, after a year or two, but then rest of his life began to unravel—something to do with illegal kickbacks for foreign clients.
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Yorkshireguy
Couple
I crept back down stairs and listened from there! Shame the tv in her room was on!!!
Yorkshireguy
Couple
Yes i did! I crept back down stairs and listened from there!
DaveS
Male
I think listening can be more erotic than watching, it leaves more to the imagination. When my wifes bf is here they like to be alone, they can focus on each other and i just get to hear them. I know what they are doing as I have watched them, but it is still hott to hear them talk, the pauses when I know they are kissing and fondling each other, then hearing him tell her how good that feels ....I know exactly what she is doing with his cock..... I never get tired of listening.
Side Note: Being a parent of teenagers, its GOING to happen. I have open communication with them and I would rather it be at home in a safe environment then in the back of some car or random bathroom. Its human nature.
Thank you Dave. - I have had to knock on the door and tell my son to close his window. loud girlfriend... LOL
DaveS
Male
Yorkshireguy
Couple
Yorkshireguy
Couple
I have mostly listened outside the room when she fucks a guy in our marital bed…I love the energy she gives to her lovers…things I never hear. The other option has only happen a few times where an alpha bull uses the time to humiliate me. The hotwife typically says nothing but a few bulls have totally followed his lead in berating me and taking the whole dominance to a super hot erotic level…and in some cases gets to discipline by both of them
on me.
Yorkshireguy
Couple
Yes after they stopped i whent back down stairs! I find now that i try catch them all the time....
Taking my girlfriends virginity at 16 i soon found out she had told her parents and they had said as they were out every evening having a shop they would prefer if we used the comfort of her bed rather than taking risks doing it elsewhere and she must go on the pill.
Fine with me though i was a little shocked that they basically said i could fuck their daughter in her bed but thank you!
Therefore we took up the offer virtually everynight, though she did like a bit outdoors too, plus at 21 i could do twice a night easily.
Years later and drunk her father "boasted" and told us both infront of his friends and her mother how sometimes he cameback to the house for something and could hear us fucking,
i bit my lip not just because of what a thing to say about your daughter but more so that i could have added:
Ive heard you daughter being fucked many times too, recorded some and i could listen and freely watch as well!
TRUMP!
So it appears to be a rather common sport: listening.
Fine with me though i was a little shocked that they basically said i could fuck their daughter in her bed but thank you!
Therefore we took up the offer virtually everynight, though she did like a bit outdoors too, plus at 21 i could do twice a night easily.
Years later and drunk her father "boasted" and told us both infront of his friends and her mother how sometimes he cameback to the house for something and could hear us fucking,
i bit my lip not just because of what a thing to say about your daughter but more so that i could have added:
Ive heard you daughter being fucked many times too, recorded some and i could listen and freely watch as well!
TRUMP!
So it appears to be a rather common sport: listening.
I cannot wait to have my first experience but I would want to be in the room and watch every single moment. My wife almost hooked up with an older gentleman at work and I told her she could spend the night as long as she either FaceTimed or recorded most of the stuff
Yorkshireguy
Couple
Caught and listened a few times now i am actually thinking of recording the sounds i am hearing
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