Eight minutes, that’s how long it takes for my straight neighbor couple to have sex. I’m not sitting with a stopwatch, it’s just…eight minutes. I can’t help overhearing them making love in our old apartment building. If the noise bugs me, I know that it will be all over in…eight minutes.
Eight minutes! As a dyke I don’t mean to brag about the sex that I have, I’m not trying to judge. It’s only that if our sex ended in eight minutes, I would clomp out the door in my clogs, never to return. That’s why I don’t covet my neighbors’ sex.
My neighbors resemble the ‘Love Is’ cartoon couple. She has hair down to her ass, which I find nasty. Maybe that’s why their lovemaking is short, because the hair gets in the way. If I were her I would put it up in a bun before slipping into bed. “Don’t worry honey, my hair won’t bother us tonight.”
My lesbian training tunes me into the woman’s pleasure: Does she like this? Does she want to climax, and if so, what will get her there. Maybe that is why lesbian sex tends to last longer, we hang in there and do whatever it takes to trip the sometimes elusive female orgasm. Nothing wrong with a “quickie” — now and then.
It’s clear that their sex ends when –boom — the husband has his orgasm, or his erection ends. H does not try to satisfy his wife after he cums. How Old World is that, ending the sex as soon as the husband spurts. Afterward, he probably rolls over and goes to sleep.
So I naturally listen for the wife’s response upstairs. I could be out in left field, but to me it sounds like she’s faking it. If she is faking her orgasm, that means that she isn’t cumming, at least not during sex with her husband. And that would be a shame. In 2010 no woman anywhere should feel the need to fake an orgasm for Pete’s sake.
In the lesbian world it is not uncommon to make love for hours, even 24 hour lovemaking is not unheard of. For me, eight minutes is sad. I wonder at the state of their marriage with such a dried-up love life. How many other straight couples suffer from the same malady? Ultimately though, I don’t care because I’m plugged into the good sex juice.
Love Is…Sapphic
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