I'm dragged, from the depth of sleep that had come too late and ended too quickly by a noise just beyond my door. There was the distinct shuffle of feet, with a mix of hoarse curse words and the jingling of keys. I wasn't alarmed; instead I buried my head under my pillow and tried to drown it out. It would be over soon. I knew what it was; this was now a familiar sound. It came about twice a week, distressed my sleep and brought several noise complaints from my neighbours.

That sound was Gail ... drunken Gail trying to gain access to my apartment. This is actually better than before. Before I was greeted with loud obnoxious shouts from beyond my door, which bellowed my name and demand access. So I had given her a key. The noise complaints did not stop.

There it was again, the scratching sound as the key scraped along the metal that was the keyhole but not quite gaining entrance. It was like a hungry alley cat, in a metal trash can. It grated my nerves. I should get out of bed and help, but I'm lazy. No I'm tired too tired to move, too tired to deprive myself of the warmth that is my queen size bed.

There is a clicking sound and it seems entrance is gained as the next sound is the door – slamming. I expect noise complaints tomorrow. I don't mind Gail coming over. In fact I love it when she does but ...

The apartment comes to life as lights are clicked on and off, heavy feet shuffle along squeaking hardwood floors and something heavy drags along the floor. Her duffle bag. The TV joins the party offering the ending of some late night show and the fridge offers up its serving – usually a beer. While the cupboards applauses welcoming her presence or rather her idle inspection of them. I want to get out of bed and ask no demand for her to stop making so much noise at this ungodly hour. My sleep ridden eyes, steal a glimpse of the green neon lights of my alarm clock that tells me its almost 11pm, but instead I snuggle deeper into the warmth of my bed. It will be over soon, at least that's what I tell myself.

Some time later when I'm finally falling back to sleep, the noises stop and I'm back in the silence and peace that the night usually brings. Lighter feet shuffle in the bedroom and the distinct sounds of buttons becoming undone, zippers pulling and clothes being disregarded can be heard.

Then the bed dips and though it's a queen, she manages to find me tucked to the furthest end of the it and she reaches for me. Pulling the sheet away as it tries to deny her access, but her demand is greater than its will and she wins this round. Her mouth is on my neck sucking teasing and there goes my desire to wear a no collar top tomorrow. She whispers drunken inaudible nothings – but I know what they are. 'You're so beautiful and I want you so much' the typical straight girl moves. It's the only one she knows, but I'm easy, so they work most times. Okay all the time.

Her hands are clumsy but eager as they seek me out, finding a breast that's too excited to be touched by her. She groans in frustration and pulls impatiently on my nightwear, clearly annoyed that I had chosen to wear the offending garment.

She moves on top of me, perched like a jockey ready to run the derby and lifts my top seeking my belly button and for the first time I allow myself to respond, running my hands though her golden strands and holding her head to me, but her fingers round my hips and pull on the underwear and my body betrays me by hips rising and the underwear is disregarded. With the slightest of touches my legs open shamelessly to receive her and when her head lowers my world ellipses complete with arching back, fingers grabbing sheets and chorus sounds. There will definitely be a noise complaint from the neighbours.

She's no pro, I'm not even sure, she knows what she's doing but what she lacks in experience she makes up with enthusiasm and her willingness to please. In her drunken state her movements are sloppy and rushed but with a steady hand I slow us down, I guide, teach and bend her to my wanton desires until a release is inevitable and when its reached I moan the sanctity that is her name. My breath catches and lungs heavy but I'm blissfully happy as she moves above me once more, hungrily seeking a kiss as our bodies connect head to toe, skin against skin, hips touching, breasts heaving, sweat staining and I anticipate round two, but she relaxes on me, burrows her face in my neck and as we lay there, I stroke her back and wait as her breath evens out and I know she's fallen asleep. She got what she came for – her midnight snack and I do all that can be done. I hold her and try to fall asleep. She will sleep like a baby tonight and won't remember much of this tomorrow, while I will lack sleep but have a total recall memory.

Enjoy and let me know if you want to read more. I cant decide if its a one shot or if its itching for more to be told.