Moans echoed in the bedroom next to Allen's. The noises were enough to make the boy blush red from head to toe, bury his face in his pillow and his hand between his legs. At this point it was quite nearly routine for both Cross and Allen to do this at night, every night.

It was in fact routine for Cross to get piss drunk, and fucked out of his mind every night, despite the fact that fifteen year old boy was right in the other room, hearing every moan, whimper, and every God damned thrust from whatever busty, leggy barmaid or tourist Cross had picked up. It was not so routine that Allen divulged in the sounds those busty, leggy broads made, and definitely did not routinely listen to the sounds that his handsome, muscular Master made.

But when his hand moved between his legs, he didn't have to cover his ears with the flat goose down pillows, or hide under the thinning quilts on the bed, and no matter how hard he pressed that flat pillow to his head or how far under the covers he went, the moans made their way into his ears.

However, on one particular night Cross and the broad were very vocal. Moans did not even cover what he was hearing tonight. Allen thought his head would explode from all the stimuli. On top of being vocal, this woman seem to have no end, and the only reason Cross ever stopped was when a woman was properly satisfied, as many times as she wanted. Allen would later swear on his life when Cross was hung over that the neighboring occupants noise complaints were not of the boy himself, but rather their lovely guest. Cross would then wave it off, pulling his boots on to go out into town for some eggs, the hottest spice he could find, and grits. Lots and lots of grits. Allen would hide, but Cross would find him.

Allen grew to dread the nights when Cross brought a woman home that was vocal, or when Cross himself was rather vocal during sex. Not only because of the grits, but also because those would be the nights that ignoring his moans would prove to be very difficult.

After three weeks straight of vocal sex, Allen became aware of three things: One, his knees hurt like he'd gotten a whipping; two, ignoring constant moaning does not actually work; and three, 'acidentally' watching Cross and a woman having sex was quite better than sitting in a flustered heap in the other room, pretending that it was not some woman that Cross was having sex with. Oh, and he realized one more thing. He really wanted to get laid, preferrably with Cross.