naked: the good kinds of noises

The first time I moved in with a roommate was also about the time I started dating seriously for the first time–which meant that the majority of my first sexual experiences involved pausing in the middle and whispering, “Did you hear that? Did she just get home?” and meant that I was constantly choking back any sounds of pleasure and approval. I couldn’t talk above a whisper and eventually stopped even that because it is not sexy to hear “What? What did you say?” and everyone’s frustration kind of ruins the mood.

My caution was not unfounded–at the first opportunity, my awful, awful roommate who I tried to avoid at all costs stopped me in the hall and said, “Hey, you guys are getting busy, aren’t you! Ha ha ha ha!” in the most hateful way possible, and every time we were naked in my room, I was acutely, uncomfortably aware of the possibility that we might be audible, that someone might be thinking about us having sex, me naked, body parts flopping, and I have to tell you, that kind of self-awareness is one of the worst thing that could happen to sex. Sex is about abandonment and pleasure, not buttoned-up worry and total awareness of your surroundings.

I fled to my own apartment as soon as I graduated from college and got
a real job, but that self-consciousness came with me–that awareness of
how I had to sound to anyone who might be listening, the awareness that
anyone could be listening, embarrassment if, by some chance, something
entirely too wonderful happened and a gasp or a moan or cry was wrung
out of me entirely by accident, startling me–startling both of us. I
knew that I wanted to make noises, that I loved it when my partner
spoke to me, encouraged me, moaned and sighed, but I could never bring
myself to abandon my caution, and my overall happiness in bed suffered
for it.

One of the best things that ever happened to me was the invention of
the hotel/motel room, and my realization that adults in couples
sometimes can go on vacation together and stay in one of those
new-fangled hotel rooms, and be completely anonymous. You are expected
to have crazy, nutty, wild, loud, banging sexy sex in a hotel room–it
is a law that everyone knows, and I took that to heart. We were
supposed to be visiting the Jersey shore, but instead, we visited with
each other a lot. And by visited, I mean “did it.”

There was something about suddenly being able to be vocal, being able
to express myself in a way that would make Madonna proud (yeah yeah
yeah yeah), something about releasing that worry and self-consciousness
that ended up with us doing it everywhere and every how and at every
volume, and made it not only one of the best weekends of my life for a
long time, but really made me realize how important it is, to really
feel able to do anything, say anything, be how you are and who you are
in bed, whether you’re a quiet concentrator or a screaming maniac. And
how much having roommates kind of sucks.

3 Replies to “naked: the good kinds of noises”

  1. Amen on roommates sucking – I not only had to hear the sex, but then I had to hear them fight at 5am only hours after I heard them doing it.

    And then I had to be late to work while they did it in the shower. I love living alone and being loud!

  2. Thank you. Strangely I’m getting teary eyed now because I now realize I’m not the only one who has had that horrible self-consciousness of being heard during sex. Thank you so much!

  3. I wish they’d warn you about that stuff… it would be so much easier to deal with if you knew what was coming. :) Pun slightly intended.

    I got over the worry about wobbly bits by thinking “have I ever met a dude who was worried about the way his balls swung around/jiggled/slapped when he thrusts?”


    Therefore, f* it. F* it all.

    The noise thing… I already had the “left…. right…” thing down, so I gradually progressed to just going with whatever. Sometimes there’s noise, sometimes there isn’t. And roommates totally suck. Hardcore.

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