Tonight I was reading blogs (needed to catch up after my trips) and was thinking what to write about… I have my notebook with some ideas, but a lot of them are just raw ideas or chats crumbles, memories or visions. I need to think over, put my text into readable English and hit “Publish” button.
Laying in my bed, at 9 PM my time on very delightful lonely weekend with nice evening light outside. And suddenly this wonderful picture was tore down by sound. Sound of sex. My neighbors sexual symphony. With a distinguished soprano. It happens often. Few times a week. And 2-3 times per night, easy to calculate, they are above the average in their activities. I always try to fall asleep in the break. I know their schedule.
Yes, I feel envy sometimes. I feel angry more often, and in some cases I feel humiliated. I just don’t need vocal reminder for not having enough sex. I can’t sleep, I can’t force myself pretend it’s not happening.
During warm summer nights I used to go to my balcony for a smoke. They have sex with windows widely open. Mostly guys in the neighborhood were listening and smoking too. It’s was an amazing turn on. They were discussing the situation. Pretended as if they are angry. Or disturbed. They commented on the tone, volume of voice of the performer. We know their repertoire now, we hear the differences. Even slight changes… Recently they enjoyed spanking…We know how dirty they talk. What she says and what he asks. Not in details, but still neighbors have an image of their private life. And noisy f***kers are aware of it.
But the voice! It’s really impressive. it’s a pity not everyone has a talent. A guy the next door was joking about sending his wife to this dramatic coloratura soprano to get few lessons of moaning. I am not right-wing nor rear-feather feminist, but I suggested himself to take lessons from our sexually insatiable neighbor instead.
What if he can make every woman sing her best arias every time???