My Neighbors’ Love
Dear Loud-sex Neighbors,
Well! I feel like I know you already, even though we’ve never met. I have spent some time speculating about which average-looking couple you might be, and have come to the conclusion that I prefer not to know.
As your neighbor (and, as such, an auditory participant in your nocturnal activities), I wanted to drop you a line and offer some feedback on last night’s performance.
First, I suppose, congratulations are in order. You seem to have been able to take personal intimate performance to new, pornoriffic levels. Wow! I’m really impressed! Seventy-five minutes is a very long time to be able to continue such strenuous activity, and you should really be proud of yourselves for your level of physical fitness. Although a passing jet tragically obscured what I’m sure was a most spectacular conclusion to your encounter, I trust that it was satisfactory for everyone, and that no furniture collapsed or otherwise harmed you.
Now, I understand you were a little distracted, but I just wanted to take a moment to speak with you about your kind sharing of what must be your favorite activity. Hobbies are great! But now that the summer months are upon us, your open window – located just thirty unobstructed feet from my own – does allow me slightly more access to your romantic pursuits than I would generally like to have. Your enthusiastic vocalizations do provide an interesting harmonic addition to the constant rush of cars on the highway. However, your contributions to the ambient sound in our shared driveway have not always been as aesthetically enjoyable for me as they sound like they have been for you.
I’m sure that, since I have not recently been considerate enough to share any of my own joyful noise, you have no idea who I am. If I did feel inclined to contribute to the neighborhood soundscape, you’d probably be disappointed; even though my sexual orientation does tend toward the minority, I tend to be rather private and, well, vanilla. This is no judgment upon you or anyone else who likes to scream like a cougar on a roller coaster. It’s just the way it is.
It is completely irrelevant that it has been longer than I care to mention since such encounters have been a part of my own repertoire of activities. While some people might be content to vicariously participate in your frequent and boisterous exertions, I have not been moved to do so – mostly because I have been unable to obtain a full and uninterrupted night’s sleep since the two of you began to share your extraordinary exercises; and not at all because I’m jealous.
Anyway, thanks for being so understanding! Remember to stretch, stay hydrated, and please: Keep the shades closed.
Jen Hodsdon is a wicked clever, word-hot, wimmin-lovin mama. She swears that she’s really not too much of a prude.