Being a self-appointed animal rescuer, distress calls catch my attention and cause me to spring into action. As I pulled into my driveway in my topless Jeep, I heard what I assumed was the sound of two cats fighting. (Search YouTube for “The Conversation of Tiger Woods with his Girlfriend” to hear the sound.) I sprang from my Jeep and headed across my street to break it up. Once I reached a neighbor’s driveway, I realized the sound wasn’t coming from cats, it was coming from an orgasmic woman behind an open window.

Now, I know I’m slightly out of practice. Yet, I should know the difference between a woman in pleasure and a pissed-off cat, shouldn’t I? It got me thinking, Why are orgasmic sounds so varied?

Here are some that I may or may not have experienced while being the deliverer of the orgasm or a casual passerby:

  • Orgasmus Normalis – Deep breathing, moaning, and a few short sentences with words like “God” and “Yes.” It escalates until one big “Argh!” and an exhale.
  • Orgasmus Dirtius – There are different levels of this but each one contains expletives. I’m a big fan of naughty words, but not while bumping naughty bits, because those words make me giggle. Giggling during lovemaking is not something any woman takes lightly.
  • Orgasmus Silentius – Here’s where I hold the back of my hand under a nostril and peel open eyelids to make sure I haven’t induced a coma. This reaction also makes me consider penis elongatus.
  • Crygasm – I never quite know how to react to orgasms that cause eyes to leak. I’m afraid to ask. Tears of pain and tears of joy are remarkably similar in the dark.
  • Orgasmus Athleticus – I’m almost fifty. I’m no longer pliable. Some positions are best left to the smelly-matted yoga boys. I’ve had to tap out of a few sessions. Once, I said, “Uncle!” and she responded, “Don’t you mean: Aunt?”
  • Orgasmus Operatus – This is the one I heard when I went to break up the catfight. It started with a single note with slight alterations in volume and pitch. If there were hip-slapping noises, I may have known sooner. Mariah would have been impressed with the sustain. I need to remember to deploy my fancy spy device (iPhone) on such occasions.

A man will usually mimic his partner as that’s the safest strategy. If she starts squealing, it’s safe for him to growl. If she drops F-bombs, he can launch a few of his own. If she calls him “Daddy” or “Papi” … well, it’s best to take that compliment silently. If she reacts to his butt slapping, ear licking, or nipple twisting with silence, he should know to quit it.

I didn’t get to break up any catfight nor did I grab a beach chair, Cheetos, and a frosty Blue Moon. I did not golf clap. I walked silently back to my garage and reminded myself that sound travels (in other words, close the damn windows). When I entered my house, Syd & Symon (my cats) greeted me at the door with “What the fuck was that?” looks on their fuzzy faces.

“Sorry, boys. False alarm. That’s just one lucky neighbor.”

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About the author

Author of humorous essays about relationships and lifestyles.
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