the evolved state

I sat listening through the walls; Mary next door was drunk again. A couple years back Mary and her apartment made the news when a prominent lawyer she was sleeping with at the time told her that he would not leave his wife. She took a butcher knife and held him hostage. I did not live here at the time , so I not completely clear on all the details, but I have heard talks in the halls about the incident, more I heard from Mary herself, as the walls were by no means sound proof. Usually around 7 when she began drinking I would hear her making nightly phone calls to her ex lover/victim  they always started sweet, "hey I haven't heard from you in a while I thought I would call and see what you were doing." From the fact she always seems to end the conversation with "call me back when you get this." I can't help but to assume he either stopped answering her calls or just never got her. I always wondered why he never changed his number, but in truth there is always a sadistic pleasure in knowing someone wants you even and in most cases especially if they are unwanted by you. Around 9 the calls would become more violent, most of what she says at this point is either to slurred or to vulgar to be able to properly portray here. Around 11 the knocks at her door would begin as customers slowly started showing up. The next sounds heard were always knocks against my living room wall, and the deep throated moans of old men. They would show up in their pinstriped custom tailored suits and leave with the little hair most had messed up and in a t shirt drenched in sweat, but Mary wouldn't make a sound for the next couple of hours never a moan from her as long as I have listened, no sounds from her except the rhythmic thumping of her body being thrust harder each time against my living room wall. This would always end with the climatic sound of one sudden hard thump one last grunt from her male partner and 3 minutes of silence before the sound of her front door opening. Mary wasn't in to cuddling.  Her moans would not start till around 4 when all the men were long gone. Her moans were not like the ones earlier in the night, there was no pleasure no lust, just pain. I have often imagined her next door soaked in tears legs sore from a long nights work, rocking her nude bruised body back in forth. I think of her young bare breast with the ever so fine bite marks but every bit as sexy as any 23 year old blonde's two tight plump tits would be. I wonder if she is shaved, for the sake of hygiene I hope she is, but to be honest the thought of her sweaty stuck together pubic hairs have got me through a boring night or two.  I think of her there rocking gently back and forth trying to find the comfort of unconsciousness. I have considered going next door and trying to comfort her, who knows I may have even got a freebie for my concerns, but as they say to the bold goes the spoils. I being the bold one that I am have never made the short trip across the hall, well not really. Not that Mary wasn't sexy, or as sexy as one can be considering her lifestyle choice, or the fact that I am too good of a person to take advantage of a woman like that. Hold no illusions I have no claim to any moral high ground, I think it is a matter of pride. I just don't think I can be on top of her frail body looking down into those vacant eyes realizing that she felt no pleasure, no emotion towards me. I need to feel that she needs me, that she cares, even if it is a lie, and from what I have seen of Mary she may have been a whore, but she was no liar. I take a long drag feeling the smoke deep within my lungs, and think to myself I need to get a TV. I feel myself beginning to get hard, on second thought Comcast doesn't even offer this much fun. My hand moves slowly towards the bulge.