The dead giveaway (what sets sex apart from other other random noises, like tossing and turning, or talking) is the rhythmic, repetitive nature of the sounds. Creak creak creak of springs, wham wham wham of bed hitting wall. Oh! Oh! Oh! of person getting the crap banged out of them.
After my boyfriend and I broke up, we still shared a house (we were two of three grad students living there) and I spent many a night listening to him and his NEW girlfriend going at it. Sigh.
Kinda sorta similar to Cranky, I had a young lass bed me during a party in college, and she had a particular noise she made during the good parts. Seeing as this was purely physical, we soon parted ways. My dorm room had a thin door seperating it from the room next door, as they had once been suites. A few weeks later, I went back to my room to get a tape during another party (yes, CD’s were not yet invented), and lo and behold, I hear very similar noises coming through the thin door from next door! This lady was working the hallway! It killed me not to bust out laughing.
One night a friend of mine and my girlfriend got a two bed hotel room for the night. Me and her in one bed, him in the other. Woke up in the middle of the night with them two going at it in the next bed.
Thing that pissed me off was that she wanted to wait 2 yrs into our relationship to have sex.
In my apartment (right now in fact) there is some wierdo that lived above me. I have never seen a woman or a man go into his apartment, but every once in awhile there will be some wierd scream type noises, moanings, and thumping for like half an hour. Mabey he has a sex slave tied up there, cuz it happens all the time. (Of course he could be watching porns all day long in his rocking chair.)
Is this the one where the guy strangles the duck? 
Anyway, I can’t wait to hear it.
As for me, yeah, I have. Former roommates getting it on. Nothing like working 14 hour days and coming home at 11pm to your roommates having sex.
My first real residence, aside from the parents’ house and dorms – Villa Del Vista apartments in Las Cruces, New Mexico. It was an apartment complex that was apparently slapped up during the boom of the '70s, and the walls were very thin.
Anyhow, I got stuck with a fuirst floor apartment. There were two girls living upstairs, apparently sisters, both very attractive. The one whose bedroom was above mine had a boyfriend who came to visit every night about 11:30 or so, just as I was going to sleep.
You heard the two of them get into their very squeaky bed – there was an initial jumble of squeaks, then silence. A few more squeaks here and there for about five minutes. Two more … a short pause … then a rhythmic “scree scree scree scree,” accompanied by very loud moaning and praying (“Oh God … Oh Lord … Oh Jesus … God God ugggggh gruuuungh God uuuughhhuggh”)
The scary thing was that I coul hear 'em change positions. The squeaking and banging would stop, there would be about five seconds of random light squeaking, then a different rhythm, with different moaning sounds. About 30 minutes later, it stopped, followed by a toilet flush about 30 or 40 seconds after that. They were good, and this happened every night. However, I was in a strange new town, I knew few people, so hearing a hot babe get it on while I slept alone wasn’t a very pleasant experience. When I started dating, I lived in a newer apartment complex with better insulated floors, I had a very quiet bed, and it’s unlikely that anyone heard me get it on with Ms Right. Sigh.
Yeah. Pretty standard sex noises used to come on a regular basis for about a year from the apartment next to mine.
Imagine! How disgusting.
Of course, I had to get out a stethoscope and put it to the wall and listen intently, just to make absolutely sure of what I was hearing. 
Disgusting, you say?
You don’t know disgusting.
Try being awakened in the middle of the night in your basement bedroom by the creaking and moaning of your PARENTS’ bedsprings. THEN you can talk to me about disgusting.
Pikers.
While I was living in the dorm in college, my neighbor
once woke me up at about 4 am by noisly having sex with his
girlfriend. It was a good thing too, since I had fallen
asleep while working on an assignment due the next day. I
got back to work and managed to finish it on time.
(Later the same couple each got a hacking cough, and for a
few weeks I had to try to sleep hearing them both coughing
up a lung.)
Another time, in the middle of the afternoon, the same
neighbor was watching a porno movie with the sound so loud
you could hear it in the hallway. People walking by just
shook their heads.
Another neighbor I had later on liked to blast music. I
think it was some sort of territorial thing. People living
around him, including me, kept asking him to turn it down,
and he kept doing it. Well he eventually started having sex
with his girlfriend, and a few of us agreed it sounded like
he was trying to be as loud as he could, for the sake of
stealing our attention, as he did with the blasted music.
Yes, several occasions. Most recently, when I was living in a small apartment and the sounds came regularly through the thin wall from the next apartment over.
Earlier than that, when I had two other roommates in a 3-bedroom apartment. Heard one roommate and girlfriend from in his room – she was pretty loud. I don’t think they knew I was home.
And like you, Aghris, college roommate and his girlfriend, a few feet away. However, I was already asleep when they came in… er, to the room, that is… and she must not have been a screamer. So I sympathize, but glad I wasn’t target practice for the condom toss… 
GGGgggrrrrrooooowwwwwrrrrrrrr…
Yep, cheapo student housing always takes the cake. Not just dorms, but those cheap-ass subdivisions somebody mentioned earlier.
One of my housemates who lived in one of those “instant bedrooms” with the paper-thin walls was a Chinese guy from Singapore, kind of a long-haired, charming rogue. Also kind of a rascal and layabout. No job, no school, nothing to do but fuck his Taiwanese girlfriend. As long as he paid his absurdly cheap rent (and who knows how he came by that), the landlord was happy.
And fuck her he did. All the fuckin’ time. In the middle of the afternoon, yes. No bedsprings or nothin’, just a steady, slow rhythm of “Ohhhhh!..Ohhhhh!..Ohhhhh!..” And to think there’s a stereotype of Asian men as being sexually inadequate. Please. It sounded to me like she considered him more than adequate. Yet another proof that stereotypes ain’t worth shit.
And he was a crazy reckless driver too.
Anyway, the Singapore Playboy finally left our lives one fine day when a group of Chinese men came to talk to him about something. Don’t know what they said to him, but they made him a nervous wreck. (Funny how when they first came to the door, they asked for his girlfriend instead of him.) After they left, Singapore Guy nervously asked me to never let anyone in the house again, then he called the police to say he’d been threatened, then he split (leaving me to explain things to the LAPD). Came back a little later for his stuff. Never did see him again.
Oh, and I have heard people in the next bed too. My Tennessee roommate was getting sociable on the bed with his date while I was in the room. To be polite, I retreated to the living room to give them some “private time.” And I waited, and waited. Even Tennessee’s friends thought he was being rude. “Get her out of there,” harrumphed one friend. Finally Tennessee himself came out and muttered, “Tom, uh, give me fifteen more minutes.” I’m polite, remember?, so I waited thirty minutes and went back in, flopped down on my bed and pretended to be unconscious. They were in the middle of nude foreplay – sounds like a lot of heavy full-body rubbing, and it’s NOISY. They nervously got dressed, touched my toes to make sure I was “asleep” (I wanted to be) and left.
Oh yes, this was the same house. That was the last time I ever had roommates.
My sister claims to have heard both my mother and my father having sex. Separately, with their separate lovers.
Eighteen years old, freshman in college… my roommate and her boyfriend started screwing in her bed. They thought I was asleep; in reality I’d only turned out the lights about ten minutes before they stumbled in. Of course, they were loud enough just finding the bed that I might have woken up anyway…
If it happened now, I would turn on the light and say WHOOPS! Forgot to brush my teeth! At the time I was so chicken I just laid there as still as I could until they were finished. Thankfully that didn’t take long. He was so drunk he was having trouble finding the relevant bits, and she was snoring like a buzzsaw within about five minutes. I don’t think they “finished” so much as fell into an alcohol-induced stupor.
I used to share an apartment with a very amorous couple. We lived on the third floor, and sometimes I’d hear them from the front door downstairs. They were both ‘screamers’ and when I’d be getting close to our door I’d jingle my keys a lot so if they were in the living room they’d hear me and go running into the bedroom.
One time I came home with my mother, and man, was that embarrassing. Obviously, none of you know my mother, so I’ll give you a little background. My Mom teaches Sunday school and loves Disney movies. She never curses, and is, well, I guess a big prude. My roommate was my best friend from high school, and she was basically part of my family and knows my mother very well.
The roommates were in the shower together, and I guess they couldn’t hear us come in. Our bathroom was between the kitchen and living room, so wherever we were, we were still in the next room. My Mom and I had ordered Chinese food, had it delivered, and sat down to watch TV while we ate. There were giggles, moans, screams, grunts and slapping sounds coming from the bathroom the whole time. When they finally emerged, the look on my female roommate’s face was priceless. She took one look at my Mom and her jaw dropped. Good. 
We’d had the ‘Let’s Try To Keep Our Sex Lives In The Bedroom’ talk just a few days earlier, and this was exactly what I told her would happen. I still tease her about it.
Rose
Yes, I forgot all about this until I read this thread.
In the cheap student apartment the Ex and I lived in, the walls and floors were paper-thin. There were three girls that lived above us, and they always had these Frat Boy types over, at all hours of the night. One Saturday night, I was in the bathroom, and I started to hear people walking around upstairs. Due to a large hole in the ceiling from water damage, there was only a thin layer of plywood and one layer of linoleum between us. It was a guy and girl above me:
Girl: (giggle) No, lube it up, silly!
Guy: (mumble)
Girl: Here…OK. Now do it to me. Do it to me. Do it. DO IT!
Guy: I’m trying but it won’t fit!
Girl: (exasperated) Use your fingers!
Guy: No way! I’m not (unintelligible)
Girl: Put it in me! I need it!
Guy: I’m trying, it won’t fit.
Girl: (curses)
Then there is a pause for a few seconds, then…
Girl: Ayyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Guy: Oh yeah. Oh yeah.
Girl: (panting and crying) Fuck my ass! Fuck it! Fuck it! Fuck it!!!
And they went on for about 3-4 minutes, with her sobbing and crying - actually crying - but all the time panting and saying “Fuck my ass! Fuck it!”
Finally, it stopped.
Girl: Don’t stop!
Guy: I’m done.
Girl: You fucking prick!!! (door slams, and yelling ensues upstairs, followed by the outside door slamming)
:eek:
Frankd6, my parents had no shame. Must be where I got it from. The first time my exhusband heard it was freakin’ hysterical, especially since we had just finished when the moans started from my parent’s room.
Him: (blank look) “What’s that?”
Me: (barely restrained laughter at him) “What do you think?”
Him: (jaw dropped, eyes wide open)
Me: (laughing into my pillow at him)
Apparently, I was the only person I knew who didn’t have a problem with my parents having a sex life. My mother (who was usually very proper) used to joke around out of the blue about it to my younger brother because it shocked him so.
Little Brother: “Why did you guys build your new house way down here away from Uncle David’s house?”
Mom: (calmly sipping her coffee) “We got tired of him complaining about the noise.”
LB: (mortified)
Me: (laughing hysterically)
swoon
Seriously, where the fuck do you think you came from? I never heard my folks going at it, but they’ve always been quite up front that they do. A while back, I was over there and they gave me my mail. One was a spam “Increase your sexual stamina”. Jokingly, I asked my dad if he wanted it. My mother calmly looked over and said “He dosen’t need it” :eek:
Not exactly, no.
Alright, here it goes.
When I was in university in Maastricht (the very south of the Netherlands), I shared a house with 5 other people. It was a pre-war family house, basically. We all had our rooms, and we shared the ground floor - kitchen, big living room, bathroom and all that.
One day, I arrived home at about three in the afternoon. I tossed my bag on to the couch, and sat down reading the morning paper - I had to be at the U early in the morning, forcing me to postpone that daily ritual. The only one home appeared to be my housemate “Jeroen” ('cause that’s his name ;)), from whose room I could hear the stereo at considerable volume.
After reading for about five minutes, I heard someone parking their bike out front, and ringing the doorbell. With a sigh, I put down the paper and get up - almost.
In Jeroens room, the stereo goes off, and a quick series of steps down the stairs told me I could sit back down again.
Lots of smooching and kissing sounds in the hall further explained that the visitor was Jeroens girlfriend-at-the-time. We’ll call her Agnes.
Two pair of feet dashed up the stairs, and after the slam of the door, sounds of people tossing off clothes whilst moaning and a-grunting could be heard.
Now, here’s the thing. Jeroen had this old military style steel bed, that had its head end positioned some 10 centimeters away from the heating radiator in his room. We all know that steel heat pipes are a great sound conductor.
Yup, I was treated to a semi-rythmic metallic CLANG! CLANG! CLLLLLANG!! CLA-CLA-CLA-CLAAAAANG!!! concerto, with lovely vocal support to boot. Both the front and back radiators made sure I got a perfect stereo reception. This went on for the proverbial ten minutes (what can I say, I always seemed to be able to hang on to my girlfriends longer than Jeroen :D). Then, sounds of dressing up and saying goodbye could be heard. Two pair of feet down the stairs, a quick kiss goodbye, and the slamming front door.
Ten seconds later, Jeroen struts into the room, barefoot, jeans on but unbuttoned, shirt likewise. He’s sporting his trade mark victory shit-eating grin.
Until he tilts his head to the right, only to see me on the couch, peering out from over the newspaper, returning the courtesy with an equally impressive EVIL grin.
Three seconds of dead silence.
Then, the historical words: "JUST WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU GET HOME, DAMMIT??"
Still worth a good laugh, 7 years later.
Downstairs neighbors.
banging, moaning, Oh Oh Oh.
Makes you feel wierd when you’ve been celibate for the last 31 years.
Then I get the giggles.
Of course, I don’t begrudge my parents a healthy sexlife. More power to 'em.
I just don’t want to be a spectator.
Dude, let me tell you about stumbling across my mother’s sex toy – a white plastic wand the length of a cop’s flashlight, with a rotating baseball-sized knob on the end, covered in bumps. :eek:
Onward…
I roomed with two very, very horny guys once for several months. It was a three-story house built by a friend of one of the guys, and I’m sure it never passed any kind of inspections (or was even submitted). The whole house rocked back and forth when it was windy, the windows were all mismatched (pirated from other projects) and held in with tacking nails straight down into the sill, and we never got an electric bill because we were patched into the grid without the utility’s knowledge. (double :eek:)
Let me describe the layout a bit: The three stories stairstepped up from the road to the back. In other words, looking from the street, you see a one-story front, the roof goes back a bit to the front wall of the second story, then more roof on up to the third story. In the back, it’s straight up, three stories.
My room is in front, on the street side of the first floor; the kitchen and dining area are opposite. The second floor has a vaulted ceiling that’s open with the third floor in the front; the third-floor bedroom sits on top of the second-floor bedroom, and there’s a small office in front of the second-floor bedroom, right at the landing with the vaulted ceiling.
The guy who had the second-floor bedroom would regularly bring his girlfriend over and boff her for an hour at a time. An hour before dinner, come down and eat, then go back up and boff again for another hour, then go to sleep and boff for an hour in the morning. She was an “oh!”-er – a falsetto “oh! oh! oh!” for the whole hour, while the house shook and the ceiling creaked.
That’s not the really icky one, though. The guy who had the third-floor bedroom was envious of the second-floor guy’s ability to “score” on a regular basis, so he would frequently bring home women he barely knew just so he could remain, in his own mind, competitive. (The house had a really weird dynamic.) He was five-foot-three, and he had real issues with his height; the women he’d bring home were often a head taller than he was.
Anyway, so I’m sitting in the second-floor office, working on the computer. The third-floor guy goes by with a girl in tow. She’s big, six feet easy, and, well, I don’t want to be impolite, but she’s kind of large, doughy almost, as well as tall. He smiles, I smile, she smiles, and they go on up.
A few minutes later, I hear heavy breathing, creaking, an occasional smack or slurp, soft murmuring. I roll my eyes and continue working. After a while, it has gotten kind of distracting, so I decide to wrap up and go downstairs until they’re done. I turn to look, to make sure I’ll be able to get down the stairs unnoticed – remember, the third-floor loft is open to the vaulted landing – and I freeze.
There’s a big bay window in the second-floor vaulted landing. In the glass, I can see the third-floor bedroom: I’m looking at the reflection of what’s going on directly above my head.
The woman’s on her back on the floor next to my roommate’s futon bed. And he’s… he’s… climbing all over her. I swear, I have no idea what the hell he was doing. At first I thought it was a sixty-nine, but I can see after a moment that both his ankles are on one side of her shoulder, and she’s looking up at the ceiling with face unencumbered. Then he kind of spins around, laying across her, bumping her breasts with an elbow. Then he sort of slides over to the other side and turns over, then climbs back. It was really, really strange; they weren’t fucking, but I can’t for the life of me explain what they were doing.
After a few seconds of this, the image I get … swear to God … is of an ant clambering all over a caterpillar.
I retreat back to the computer in horror, and wait for the noises to finish. Eventually, they do, and after a respectful pause, I go back down to the first floor and hide in my bedroom. I never say a word to him about it.
:eek:
On the topic of sex, I’m reading about all you guys and your sex experiences, and suddenly it dawned on me.
I’m NOT going to be one of you guys. I’m going to end up being the guy that had one girlfriend in college, and she ended up cheating on me and we broke up. One week into the relationship.