The Caveman Above Me
...so anyway last night I was awakened by the familiar sounds of the couple in the apartment above me, having sex. I had thought I wouldn't be hearing them again, since the sounds of a toddler running across my ceiling replaced their nightly routine (I don't know who the kid was, or who it belonged to, but since it - he? she? I don't know - moved in with the amorous couple, they stopped having sex, but now it looks like the kid is gone, and the couple are back at it. So.
Their apartment layout is exactly like my own, with the bedroom directly above mine. When I glanced up at their bedroom window from the sidewalk below, I saw their bed's headboard against the window, and so I know that their bed is placed exactly as mine is ... if they crashed through my ceiling, they and their bed would land on me as I lay in my own bed, sandwiching me neatly in between the two. One of these nights, that just might happen.
BANG!BANG!BANG! of the headboard thumping against the wall. SLAM!SLAM!SLAM! of the bed leaping up from the floor and crashing down again on my ceiling. THUMP!THUMP!THUMP! of the (I imagine this is what it is...) boxspring disconnecting from the bedframe. And rising above all of this is the steady, ever more high pitched screaming of the woman. lol.
As I lay in my bed last night, listening to them, the thought occured to me, as it has every time I've listened to them, that there is something ... something wrong with their routine. Something doesn't quite sit right, something is missing, something something something ... but what?! I asked myself as I lay in my little bed and their thunderous sound effects roared down from above. And then it came to me. AHAH! (I didn't actually say this outloud, but if I had, my voice probably would have been drowned out anyway, so who knows but maybe I did say it...?)
Okay, here's the problem with my neighbour's sex life, as I see it....
Despite all her shrieking, I think, really, the pleasure is all his, if you see what I mean. Perhaps you don't. I'll try and explain.
The way it begins, is as follows - I hear her talking to him from the bedroom, as though he's in another room, which he is, as I know because soon I hear his heavy footsteps coming into the bedroom from the bathroom (I know the layout of their apartment, remember, since it's the same as my own). About, oh, maybe a minute at the most, after he enters the bedroom, he enters her. I kid you not. No foreplay, no nothing. Just her talking normally, then him walking into the bedroom, and then ... okay this is how it sounds to me - blah blah blah/1,2,3,4,5 footsteps/squeak squeak squeak/oh oh oh/thump thuMP THUMP/SLAM SLAM SLAM/SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM ... and then I hear his heavy footsteps to the bathroom again.
I swear it is wierd to listen to, because there is no interlude at all. Nothing. Nadda. Absolutely no segway between him coming into the room and him pounding the life out of her. (lol).
Now, if anyone reading this knows anything about women, you will understand when I say again that, no matter how loudly this woman is shrieking, I don't believe she's having fun. It's just ... her shrieking doesn't sound very pleasurable. Okay I realise I'm probably coming across as a little bit wierd for all my analysing here (lol), but I can't help but notice there's no buildup to her sound effects. I mean, if she was getting something out of all this, there would surely be some softer moaning before the real screaming begins? Rather than starting at 100 decibals right off the bat? Do you see what I mean? It's as though this couple's sex begins at the end, without the trip it should have taken to get there. Ya know? Being a woman, I know that when a man just barges up and ATTACKS like that, without any preliminaries, it's, um, not a good thing. It's a wonder she can walk.
And you know what's wierder? He probably has no idea. Not just because he's a clueless caveman, but because ... well because she's such an enthusiastic cheerleader who can blame him for believing he's scoring a perfect ten every time?! People are wierd. Couples are wierd. I'm wierd. And I still feel bored.