Convicted of Loud Shagging

I’ve had some screamers, but never noise complaints from the neighbours, much less involving the local constabulary.
From HuffPo:

48-year-old Brit Catherine Cartwright ignored a court-ordered ban on her noisy sex, and has pleaded guilty to making love with sounds described as “murder,” “unnatural,” and capable of drowning out her neighbors’ televisions.

Cartwright had been banned from her noisy romps after hundreds of complaints. Even her postman and a women who walked her child to school past Cartwright’s house complained.

The Press Association reported that Cartwright claimed to not realize she was being so noisy:

Giving evidence Cartwright said she was unable to control the noise she made during sex. “I did not understand why people asked me to be quiet because to me it is normal. I didn’t understand where they were coming from. I have tried to minimize the situation by having sex in the morning – not at night – so the noise was not waking anybody,” she said.

It would seem a stretch that Ms. Cartwright will do time for her wailing and moaning – a stiff fine, perhaps. Nevertheless, I believe I have the solution.
Some years ago, while surveying in a remote area, we needed a step ladder. I knocked on a woman’s door and asked if she happened to have one – she said there was one in her garage and I could help myself. As I walked down her driveway, I noticed her dog on the back steps. It was violently trembling…convulsing…I thought it was choking to death. I ran back to the door and knocked again. “There’s something wrong with your dog!”
“No, no,” she told me, “he’s just trying to bark.”
“But there’s no noise coming out. He must have something stuck in his throat.”
“No. He barked almost constantly, so I had his vocal chords removed.”


6 Responses

  1. While all the women I’m with are screamers (if only for the duration of the time they are with me), I once had the pleasure of being with a gal who was a WORLD CLASS screamer.

    She was a tall, athletic, sex maniac with a healthy set of lungs. This was not high pitched shrieking that could be confused with being murdered, screaming at a horror movie, or anything else. This noise just could not be confused for anything else. It was terrifyingly loud and was primal, straight out of the jungle. Perhaps the best way to imagine it would to imagine a diesel train engine having an orgasm. (And I was the conductor!)

    This one time, we rented a far off room in a pretty empty motel and she was so loud I swear the girl at the desk (250m and a set of fire doors away) heard her. Because, when I checked out, she was smiling uncontrollably and flirted with me. Not the kind of reaction you’d expect from a gal who, when I checked in, had a blank service-sector-employee look on her face, this before pulling an all nighter.

    In all, it was great and scary at the same time. Best roller-coaster I ever rode. I get a boner every time I think about her.

  2. Her name wasn’t Tammie was it? I had a similar experience with an ex named Tammie.

    “There ain’t nothing like shaggin’
    It’s something you won’t get tired of
    There ain’t nothing like shaggin’
    When you’re shagging with the one you love.”

  3. I’m not sure what that means, but if it has something to do with me hooking up with her again, I’m there!

    I’d love to have another go round with her, only while healthy this time. The entire time we were getting it on, I was near death with some multi-month flu virus that made the Swine Flu look like a pepper sneeze. My lungs filled up with fluid every time I was even remotely horizontal. Needless to say, I wasn’t going to let a little thing like not being able to breathe stop me from gettin’ some. Nor did it affect my performance. (Maestro! Maestro!) But it did affect my ability to properly enjoy it. That still burns me almost 10 years later.

    So, if we ever did hook up again, you might hear her all the way from Taiwan.

    • Drunk dial. You know…when you’re recalling the good old days over a bottle of rum and you get to wondering what that hot screamer is doing these days, so you close one eye to focus enough to dial the phone…
      You know. Just to say hello. For old time’s sake.

  4. That’s what I thought drunk dial meant. Unfortunately, I lost her number years ago and she lived with her parents back then anyway. I’m sure she’s long gone from there.

    And no, there was no “love” (yetch!) involved, just pure, unadulterated lust…the way God intended!

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