You Can Be As Loud As the Hell You Want

What happens when I don't blog for a while is that I accumulate all of these bookmarks in my browser of things I wanted (at the time, whenever that was) to share with everyone. Some of these items inevitably get written about somewhere else by someone fleeter of foot than I, so I miss my opportunity to be the first (or even third) on the block to feed the sex news machine. But then, some of them either only appeal to me or are from places many of you aren't likely to see. I'd say this first one is more along the lines of the latter…

I'm still hoping to meet Emily Pepper of Boston's The Weekly Dig. Her "Spanked" column is always good for a chuckle, even if Emily doesn't seem to write on any regular schedule. (HEY! No wonder I want to meet her. She isn't any more fleet of foot than I am!) In recent weeks, Emily has written about sex toys for men and the origin of rape fantasies, as well as offering readers' favorite stories about masturbating at work. (Admit it. You wouldn't feel so inclined to telecommute if you could get a good wank in at work around lunchtime.)

Emily's latest column is a recipe for using sex to retaliate against an annoying neighbor. He's upset that you walk too heavily? He calls to complain when your mother visits and yells in at you from your kitchenette that the water is boiling and she can make you a glass tea, no trouble at all? What to do, what to do? Well… have you thought of fuckbombing the bastard?

"Asshole neighbors can turn just about everything into a complaint — everything, that is, except sex. When's the last time someone knocked on your door and told you to fuck quieter?"

"While Fuckbombing may seem pretty straightforward (loud sex … not rocket science), you can take it a lot further with a little attention to detail. For starters, loud sex is a lot louder when paired with loose furniture-the feng shui of coital catacoustics. Carpeted floors, frameless beds, padded walls-these are to be avoided. A bed frame (especially a real piece-of-crap) is a Fuckbomb's best friend-the sound of a headboard hitting drywall is a classic-nothing says "Gettin' Busy" like the sound a bed losing structural integrity."

Of course, for those of you who are already "gettin' busy" and getting loud (Michelle, your name and giggle come to mind), you may need to find some other means of revenge. If the neighbors aren't complaining, then perhaps you should consider keeping the sound level down for a few days.

And then charge money to resume your normal, raucous activities.

Comments:

• I can’t imagine having sex without myself being loud.  It just isn’t natural for me. The kitchen area is always good for a loud one. But the neighbors could always do the same to you, maybe daily, and several times a day.  Yuk!

  Posted by Lucretia  on  08/05/05  at  01:08 AM
  
  

• I have tried being quiet and it just isn’t possible.  But owning a house, we don’t annoy the neighbors all that much, and my neighbors are actuallyvery cool people.  But on the days we have the house to ourselves (no kids, guests, etc.) we have the kind of “shake the rafters, noise ordinance defying” sex that we truly enjoy and I know on some wonderful summer days with the windows open, the neighbors get an earful.

  I used to have a neighbor next door in my first apartment in college that had screaming sex all the time.  We used to listen and try and compete.  My neighbors downstairs always commented after one of our all-night fuck sessions, but they seemed intrigued and amused rather than annoyed.

  Posted by ~Storm  on  08/06/05  at  12:07 PM
  
  

• I can remember having plane sex which I described in a post and I was quite loud.  I couldn’t help it, I was trying to be quiet but this man was fantastic.  It is still the most erotic experience of my life. 

  I was so into my own thing I was not paying attention around us, but afterward I did find out from my very brief lover that there were two men behind us, one a priest who got up and left until we were done.  Another was a young man who kept looking in-between the seats, he obviously did not mind, but I do feel bad about the priest. 

  In the middle was a woman who took up all four seats because she had a broken leg and of course was facing us.  I found out that the man I was with winked at her when I was in one of my loud moments and she just smiled.

  I have flown international twice since then and I am such a hypocrite I kept thinking “God, I hope I am not close to people who want to join the mile high club”.

  Posted by Lucretia  on  08/07/05  at  11:42 PM
  
  

• When I had my first apartment, I had a couple for neighbors. With them, I had three choices for “stations.” 1. Fighting, which sometimes included threats of physical violence. 2. Music, which seemed to consist of them playing Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors” album over and over and over. and 3. Loud, wall rocking sex. Not that they ever asked me, but I would have always chosen Station 3.

  Posted by Prospero  on  08/08/05  at  12:07 AM
  
  
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