Shut Up and Screw

I coulda helped you with that

[Ed. Note: It’s three years later and my thoughts on sounds during sex have drastically changed. Sure, I lapse into silence, but I consider sound a very important way of letting a lover know what’s working and what could use some work.]
I’ve been very heavy on the description in the Saga of J., but seemingly light on the dialogue. So, let me explain.
During sex, when I’m not using my mouth for pleasure, I keep it shut.
My enjoying of the silence stretches back to “the day.” When I was in my teens, my first lover lived with his mom, since he was my age. We were together for the better part of 7 years, on “breaks” often, hence the Saga of J. and other tasty delights (patience), but when we were together, the sex was the reason, aside from both of us being intelligent lit-types, of course.
Sex fascinated us and encapsulated our relationship. We’d have sex multiple times, never just once. I remember endless nights with five go-rounds. But, that said, geography was a bitch, and our encounters often needed creativity and discipline.
There were only two-and-a-half places we could count on for sex: my car, his place, and when the cosmos aligned ever so magically, though obviously infrequently, my bedroom at home.
The catch with his place, the most convenient of our options?
It was a loft bedroom with three-foot walls, and no door. The stairs led directly into his room. Their creakiness was a godsend, as nothing else would signal an impending intruder.
The culprit? His mom, this super-petite woman, 4’8” high, and weighed about a buck. She moved with the grace of a faerie. Meaning: We could never hear the bitch.
God, it was difficult. There we were, feircely sexual, exploring each other at our every opportunity, and no private place to do it in. Sex had to be absolutely silent.
But the silence had its uses.
The best attribute of his bedroom was just outside the sliding glass door, where he had access to the entire rooftop of his apartment building — strangely, he had the only access, except the always-locked utility door.
Sometimes, we’d pull his mattress out that glass door and onto the roof of the building, where we’d fuck under the stars during the spring and summer. We’d enjoy keeping it quiet since we’d hear the city bustling past below, during the act.
But we never spoke, we never urged the other on. Silence was as much a part of the game of sex as lube was. It helped us tremendously when we discovered what a turn-on sex in public places could be, but that’s another tale for another time.

getting naked

Anything we said was said by our eyes or our actions or a select group of barely audible utterances. Such as: a shuddering gasp, stifled groan, a quick intake of breath, muffled moan, or exhaling sharply.
They’re all seemingly small and inconsequential sounds, but I assure you, they are well beyond communicative.
There isn’t a lover in the world who shouldn’t be able deduce what a shuddering gasp is trying to reveal.
The thing is, though, that when you have only a few perfectly concise sounds you emit in otherwise-silent sex, it’s very, very clear what’s working. But when you’re largely silent, the sex act itself becomes intensely focused on both the body language and the looks that should ultimately say it all, that should mean both players are utterly involved.
The memo I got said that was kind of the idea. Unfortunately, the memo apparently wasn’t widely distributed, since screamers abound.
In my humble opinion, noisy sex kills intensity. Instead, this potentially incredible moment becomes overplayed and insincere, almost a charicature of itself.
I’d far rather have a guy moaning under his breath or gasping and exhaling when I stop to tenderly nibble his shaft’s loose folds of skin in between base-to-tip licks than grunting, “Yeah, baby. Oh. Oh, yeah… God!”
Put a fucking cork in it, buddy. I’m working here. A little respect. Close your eyes. Focus on what it is I’m doing, and concentrate on nothing else. If I can hear you, you’re not in the moment, and I’m wasting my time and skills. Simple.
It’s obvious that a lot of lovers lack either experience or sincerity, and as a result, they overcompensate and let their voices do their talking when their bodies can’t.
Not in my bed. My lovers have always, to a man, converted to my way of thinking in the sack, if they didn’t arrive ready-molded.
Also, they have a very, very clear idea of what I like, and what I am like, before we even hit the bed, because I believe in talking about it before I do it. What I want to do, what I will do, what I want, more than anything, for them to do to me.
It’s not a lecture, it’s a very erotic conversation with examples and fantasies interplaying with handy instructions. And it goes both ways, I assure you. I love to learn about what my lover wants of me, and I try to ensure he receives it.
Naturally, after our conversations, before we even go bump in the night, they realize I’m going to be a very quiet partner, but that the sounds I do make can be taken at face value. And when a “stifled groan” means I’m sinking my teeth dramatically into their shoulder to quiet myself down, as I gutterally groan against their skin, I’m guessing they grasp 2+2.
Without a doubt, they discover within a few encounters exactly how communicative little talking can be, and how intense.
(*In response to comments about the photos: Those who’ve followed from my other blog know me to be an avid photog. Thus, you should know– none of these photos were taken by yours truly, but rather, have all been blatantly stolen from brilliant people who’ve mistakenly let a corrupt bitch like me gain access to their intellectual property on the web.
And for that, I thank them.)

12 thoughts on “Shut Up and Screw

  1. Simply Her

    “they have a very, very clear idea of what I like, and what I am like, before we even hit the bed, because I believe in talking about it before I do it.

    I think that is a factor that I definately need to work on, but I need to find a sense of comfortability in just talking about sex.. & you’d think you’d be most comfortable with the one you’re exploring with… no?
    &I’m a fan of your “silent” sex.. I think it’s more pleasurable rather than screaming, there is a definate difference.

  2. scribe called steff

    It’s a great conversation to have on the phone, but if you’re already in the relationship, maybe it’s the kind of thing you should bring up when you’re lazing in bed on a Sunday morning. Just a, “I was thinking, there’s something I’d like to try…”

    And see if it opens up. I think if you can’t at least talk about that thing which is supposed to be the most important means of communicating with each other about how you care for him/her… then maybe you might want to ask yourself what else isn’t getting discussed.

    I’m just saying. Nothing sends me to the door faster than bad communication. It’s so important. Hell, I’ve stayed in relationships because the communication (and sex) were the only good things. How we treated each other? That was pretty questionable. But we always knew how we felt. Heh.

    (Okay, so I clearly pull no punches. But you, dear reader, might well deserve something more. Maybe not. 🙂

    Yeah, silent sex is awesome. You throw a growl or a purr in there, and MAN, does that communicate, too.

  3. Adz

    Just a quick word to say hi. I finally managed to figure out where to come from the other blog(thoroughly enjoyed) and mimi’s blog. I look forward to delving in to this one. Judging by the topic, and no not because I’m male and think about sex every 7 minutes or whatever it is (and that’s only because there is sex everywhere you look) I’ll be making a few more comments.

    So, this morning I am shirking all responsibility, making a brew, grabbing a couple of chocolate digestives and indulging in what I hope is as good a read as the other one.

  4. Easily Aroused

    Your penchant for silence/near silence during lovemaking puts me in mind of Al Pacino’s character in ‘Frankie and Johnny’:

    Well, let’s just say I’ve been in places where full-throated orgasm would be highly inappropriate

    Ironically, I’ve just posted on the very same subject, from a different viewpoint. I love listening to the sighs and whimpers and gasps and screams of a woman experiencing sexual pleasure. That’s not to say that the sort of silent sex you’re describing wouldn’t be intense for me … I just happen to believe that the sounds a woman makes when she’s being pleasured are beautifully erotic.

    But as for the “Oh, yeah baby! Harder! Faster! Deeper! You’re so f**king good!” brigade … you can leave that all to Vivid and VCA, AFAIC.

    EA

  5. chunu

    Hey Steff – note re previous post, I was kinda um err shuffling around the word ‘aroused’ but I understate a lot in general, so yes, admit I was HARD reading J part 2.

    As regards today’s entry, I have never ever really monitored my noise level during sex – apart from phone sex though I think I’m fairly quiet, apart from the whole instructions for changing possie kind of thing.

    Yours arousedly 🙂

  6. piu piu

    i HATE men who give it all that shit! its disgusting!

    but then a few whispers before the it all really starts can be super cool…

  7. scribe called steff

    ADZ — Welcome! I hope you enjoyed your read. Heh.

    EASILY AROUSED — Welcome to you, too. 🙂

    Now, I do have to admit. I’m being a bit of a devil’s advocated with this posting. In my old age (snicker — 31), I do get a little more vocal than I once did during sex, and I do like to slip the occasional innuendo into it, but I still keep it fairly quiet.

    I figure with someone on top or inside of you, raising your voice is probably unnecessary.

    I’ll let you know if the need to scream ever hits, but it hasn’t yet.

    Glad you agree about the acream-and-fuck-me brigade. And I’ll definitely be dropping by to read your posting. Your style’s awesome.

    CHUNUKBAIR — Heh. It was nice of your chubby to join us.

    You can say what you mean around here. The sexual harassment cops don’t patrol these parts.

    Most guys seem to be quiet enough during sex. Like I said, I’m very devil’s-advocate on this.

    PIU-PIU — Yes, choosing words wisely during sex is a brilliant way to go. Now and then a well-timed lined can get you amazing results.

    Whispers rocks. Love ’em.

    -s.

  8. Walking Wounded

    I would say I agree. A lover and I used to act out porn fantasies where I was the director and she was the aspiring actress looking for some time on my casting couch. At those times it was okay for her to scream away.

    But for the times where we were truly making love to each other, the near silent communication was much more satisfying by all means. It would actually break me off a bit too soon at times, because it was such a turn on.

    Peace

  9. Bobbie Mac

    In my experience, screaming sex has been a better fantasy than reality. But, I think screaming works when it’s sincere. I have at least one fond memory that involves waking people up in other parts of the building.

    : )

  10. scribe called steff

    WW — Yeah, I think there’s a time and place for loud sex. I think most of the time it’s fairly inappropriate, though. I still favour gasping and groaning, quiet or otherwise, over real words, though. Heh.

    Bobbie — I fantasize just fine about non-screaming sex. Heh. I would probably have fond memories of waking all my neighbours too, if I could overcome the catholic guilt thing. Ha.

  11. Pingback: On Becoming a Sometimes-Sex-Blogger Again | Smut & Steff

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