I can only assume Lex was referring to this incident when she suggested I "locate neighbours for late night peeping" in a comment she left recently. Lex makes great suggestions and I was eager to comply with her request.
Unfortunately, our window is distressingly far away from any of the surrounding buildings in our 'hood - which is great for wandering about pantsless but not so great for catching your neighbours "in flagrante" (that's Latin for "scronking"). So I gave up on experiencing any further amateur porn.
This weekend, Katr and I returned home from a rough day of shopping and hanging out on a patio. We were puttering about, putting things away and that's when we heard it. A kind of feminine sighing and also, moaning. Hmmm.
We quickly determined it wasn't us. And our t.v., for once, wasn't on. Through the process of elimination, we pinpointed the source. It was our neighbours. And they were gettin' biz-izzay.
The sighs began in a pretty G-rated kind of way. Like perhaps the young man was giving his lady a nice massage or a first rate back scratch. It didn't take long, however, for the family show to get X-rated. As our neighbours' lusty cries increased, Katr and I looked at each other like shocked and titillated twelve year olds who'd sneaked into a screening of Animal House. And then we did what any two people would do when they heard their neighbours engaged in a private, intimate act; we turned the fan off, opened the window wider and settled down with some fruit leather.
It was pretty standard, as afternoon delights go. No creative dirty talk. Light spanking. Our particular favourite was the indignant screech the young lady let out when her swain attempted something ass-related. Come on, Josh - she no likee! It was all over before we'd finished our snack. Then we smelled cigarette smoke and heard them fire up the Justin Timberlake. JUSTIFY! Hot.
After we'd finished our teen giggling (and our fruit leather), it occurred to us that if we could hear our neighbours getting it on, they could certainly hear US. Heh heh. Huh. So I put it to you folks - does the possibility of someone listening in on your, uh, quality time, make you clam (ha ha) up or does it make you more exuberant? Or do you just crank Sir Justin and get down to it? JUSTIFY!
All I know is that if our neighbours were listening in last night, they would have heard me yelling "Fuck, fuck! Oh, sweet Jesus Christ! Oh my GOD! Ungh!" after I bashed my shin into our goddamn platform bed in the dark on my way back from the bathroom. My whole leg is black and blue this morning. Stupid bed.
