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Everyone But One

When Johnny woke up to the sound of cries echoing through his bedroom wall, he groaned under his breath.

"Deeper! Ohhhgod, right there. Please! Please! Yesssss, ohh yes!! Fuck me!"

Just last night, he had resolved to stop looking at so much porn online. To stop convincing himself of the unhealthy idea that out there in the rest of the world everyone was having wild, copious sex or freely sharing their masturbation with countless casual hook-ups and booty-calls. As a result he had gone to bed feeling a little frustrated, and more than a little lonely. Now though, he was just annoyed. As loud, as wild and as clearly enthused as the participants on the far side of his apartment's wall were, he wasn't in the mood to hear that. He wasn't in the mood to voyeuristically indulge in his neighbours having done something to make their presumably regular sex suddenly and dramatically audible to him, after months of having never heard anything more from them than the fainted thud of a bassline when they'd had a house party at their place earlier in the summer.

Regardless of how or why he could hear them though, the raccoon dragged himself out of bed to avoid prolonging the reminder of his lack of a partner with whom to share any such intimacy. As quickly as possible he pulled on some clothes, utterly ignoring his swelling sheath and the increasingly frenzied, almost multi-orgasmic sounding screams from the far side of the wall. He left his bedroom, grabbed his wallet, keys and jacket, and headed for the front door with the intention of grabbing an early morning coffee from his favourite place down on the corner.

Johnny's attempts to get his mind off sex, be it his lack of or anyone else's excess, lasted precisely as long as it took him to walk to the end of his apartment building's third floor hallway and press the call button on the elevator. It rolled down from the floor above, and even before the doors rattled open, the raccoon's eyes were widening and his cheeks flushing in stunned disbelief at what he could hear from within.

"Don't stop. I'm so close. I'm... a-ahhyes!Yessssss!"

The doors of the elevator rolled back just in time for Johnny to see a plump older woman he recognised as a tenant on the floor above throwing her head back with a scream of bliss. The otter's hands were clutching tight at the head of a younger woman, a lean but heavily pregnant squirrel, who was kneeling between her legs and feasting on the otter's bare, orgasmically gushing pussy.

Eyes bulging, muzzle hanging open, the otter's head tilted forward again as her body continued to spasm in bliss, and she gurgled shamelessly as her gaze fell upon Johnny's own stunned face.

"It feels so good..."

She whimpered to the raccoon like it was the most natural, simple thing to admit in all the world. "...it feels so, so..."

Before she could say anything more though, the elevator doors slid shut again, and without Johnny it began to descend down towards the lobby with its still happily wailing and greedily feasting cargo.

Less frustrated now and more confused, Johnny took the stairs. He idly pinched the back of his hands as he walked, but didn't snap awake if this was some sort of lucid, self-aware dream. He swallowed thickly as he felt his own arousal now throbbing, tenting the front of his pants, albeit still mostly hidden by the longer length of his jacket. Embarrassed or not though, Johnny was too curious to turn back now. Hearing one set of people having sex in the neighbouring apartment was perfectly explainable, if a little uncommon. But, seeing two complete strangers fooling around in the middle of a publicly accessible space, and one of them not even caring that they'd been caught? That was something very weird indeed, and something which Johnny simply couldn't explain away. He needed more data. He needed more proof that it was just a random coincidence, and the easiest way to get that was to go get his coffee, and in the process prove to himself that it wasn't the whole world besides him suddenly having the kind of wild, unhinged and uninhibited sex he'd always dreamed of.

In the lobby of the apartment building, the overnight porter was on his knees between two other residents. One was a burly lion in his early forties who Johnny sometimes saw coming back from the gym around now, and the other a college freshman pangolin who had lived in this building with his mother since he was a kid. Now those two guys were fucking the porter shamelessly from both ends, and as Johnny stumbled past them in a daze, the pangolin let loose a breathy cry, pulled sharply back, and began to jerk his glistening cock as he painted the vulpine porter's panting, gurgling face with hot ribbons of cum.

Pushing through the doors and staggering out onto the street, Johnny barely had time to try and process what that third scene could possibly mean when he was shocked back to alertness by the brief blaring of a car horn. His head darted towards the source of the sound, and his whole body sagged, only catching himself on the stone railing of his building's steps as through fogged up glass he saw two shapes on the driver's side seat of that car, one bouncing wildly upon the lap of the other. On the far side of the street another apartment building door opened, and out staggered a veritable conga-line of four bodies. Four men in suits and other similar work attire, only with their pants tangled around their knees, and their cocks ploughing one another in sequence as they scooted down the stairs and shuffled off down the road, moaning and begging one another to fuck them harder all the while.

By the time Johnny made it to the coffee shop, he had seen dozens of other people. Strangers, people he vaguely recognised from the neighbourhood, even a friend of his, sitting on the steps of her own building with one of her neighbours cuddling her from behind with one arm while urgently grinding two fingers of the other hand against her clit. All of them were fucking or fooling around with someone else. Not some. Not most. All of them. And when he got to the coffee shop, navigating his way around the groups of bodies writhing and grinding and humping upon its outdoor tables, he wasn't even shocked by what he saw occurring inside. The shop was always busy at this point in the morning when people were heading off to work, but today it was packed. Packed so full that the dozens of bodies within were pressed together like sardines in a can, and all of them giddy to be there, writhing and bucking and rubbing and cumming over everyone else in their proximity.

Everyone was fucking. Everyone was having sex.

Everyone, except one person. Except Johnny.

He should have been frustrated. He should have been appalled, aggravated. Why should everyone else get to have such fun, such intimacy and closeness with other people, while he got nothing?!

Except... those weren't the thoughts which ran through the raccoon's mind at all, much to his own surprise.

Instead, as he finally reached down to his tented crotch and dared to rub the throbbing bulge through the already pre-cum dampened fabric, Johnny felt... lucky.

Okay, yeah. He wasn't one of the many, many people fucking wildly all around him right now. But, he was right there watching them. Close enough to see the expressions on their faces twist and tremble as they screamed in orgasm. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off some of the bodies, and to smell the intoxicating aroma of their desire for one another. And as he stood there and watched, they didn't bat an eyelid. They didn't tell him to go away. They didn't ignore him. They knew he was there, and they all just kept on fucking. Cumming. Enjoying themselves.

Just the prior night, Johnny had told himself to stop watching, viewing and reading so much porn online. To stop himself from indulging in the perhaps unhealthy idea of a world which revolved around sex, when realistically he knew that there was so much more to life, and so much more to people. Even those... perhaps especially those who featured in videos or images, or wrote stories, or drew pictures depicting sex of the most intense, all consumingly wonderful varieties.

For the world he lived in, the reality he knew to be true, that had been the right thing to do, no matter how frustrating it felt to his extremely active and impatient libido.

But... for this world?

For this reality, which was proving itself to be all too real with every fresh second he spent surrounded by it?

The raccoon moaned as he unfastened his pants, tugged down the front of his boxer shorts, and grasped his already rigid cock right there in the street just outside his favourite coffee shop.

He watched one of the baristas climbing up onto the counter, sitting upon it with her legs spread wide open, and furiously masturbating until she began to squirt all over all the customers writhing and fucking in front of her. He watched a husband and wife who always came in to grab a croissant and coffee together before heading off to their separate jobs, the mouse woman's tongue buried in her wolf husband's ass while she fucked herself cross-eyed with her own tail. With a frantic cry of pleasure, Johnny jerked his cock desperately to those sights and so, so many more.

No, he wasn't having sex like they were. No, he wasn't a part of what for all he knew was a worldwide orgy, going on all around him with no signs of stopping.

To live in this world though? To be able to watch, to indulge, to find sex happening wherever he went, and to know that he was welcome to admire and revel in every last instant of it?

Johnny wailed as he began to cum, and as pleasure flooded his senses yet he still didn't wake up, he still didn't snap back to any form of the reality he had previously known, the raccoon considered that if this world was to be the one he lived in from now on? Only getting to watch, to masturbate to the sights and sounds of this infinitely orgiastic world didn't seem so bad after all.

By Jeeves