Two Hours

Is the amount of time I spent listening to our neighbors make love early this morning. “Make love” is possibly the most inaccurate description I have ever come up with. “Hot monkey screwing”, “swinging from the chandelier” and “fucking” are far better choices to describe the sounds emitting from the condo next door between the hours of 3:00 and 5:00 AM.

Because of some weirdness with the acoustics, we could not determine where the action was taking place and had no recourse for the traditional bang-on-the-wall, please-put-a-sock-in-her-mouth response two tired people who had to get up early for the ten hour drive home would normally have as a method for coping with such a situation.

First there was the initial moaning, which woke both J and myself from a sound sleep. Once we determined that a murder was not taking place, we both tried to mentally block out the sound until we heard the woman cry OH BAAABY in a slightly strangled tone of voice.

J: “Did she just say “Oh Baby?”
Me: “Yes...”

We start laughing. Quietly. In retrospect, if I had allowed myself to laugh at my normal volume, it may have cut short the evening's festivities, but at three in the morning I try to be polite.

J (with a sleepy leer): “Maybe we should show them how it is done?”
Me: “There is no way I am competing with that.”

Next there was more moaning, increasing in volume until the woman screamed out YES! YES! YES! Then blissful silence. Thinking that the amateur porn radio hour was over, I begin to drift off into sleep.

And the woman starts moaning again. Another twenty minutes of noise, another loud orgasm, more silence.

I am at the edge of sleep when round three begins. Hoping to figure out the which side the noise is coming from I get up out of bed and pace from one side of the room to the other. I contemplate going downstairs to sleep on the couch and realize that this woman is so loud that peace without earplugs is not possible. I get a drink of water.

By round four the woman is sobbing. I accidentally wake J up when I hiss “They're at it again”.

By round five the woman is finally quieter, almost whimpering. So am I.

Oddly enough, her partner never makes a sound the entire two hours.