ISSUE № 

11

a literary journal in multiple timezones

Nov. 2024

ISSUE № 

11

a literary journal in multiple timezones

Nov. 2024

Reinventing the Wheel

Consulate
Illustration by:

Reinventing the Wheel

My next-door neighbours are really bad at fucking. It’s painful; I can hear them every third or fourth night just sort of futilely scrambling around on top of each other. Basically, everything about what they do — the pacing, the duration, their dismal climaxes — is wrong. They aren’t even compatible body shapes: she’s a ball and he’s a stick. When I put my ear up to the wall, they seem so furtive and quiet, all I hear is the occasional stifled moan or “Shh, he’ll hear us.” Plus, judging by the creaking, it sounds like they do it on a hide-a-bed; I can clearly picture his gangly marionette limbs flopping off the sides of it, while her back gets jarred against the bar in the middle at infrequent intervals. Sometimes, it’s all I can do to stop myself from busting through the wall and showing them how it’s done. They’re in such sad need of a mentor.

Which is why I’ve been trying to gently instruct them from my side of the partition; my goal is not to humiliate them with my own prowess, but simply to act as a role model, in order to hopefully increase theirs. I push my bed so that the headboard is right up against the wall around dinner time, usually 7:30 or so. They must be the only people on the planet who don’t watch TV while they eat, so I know they can hear us. My partner Chyna and I wait until we can hear cutlery on plates and then begin.

Now, lovemaking is meant to be a progression; Brad and Rosa next door are way too eager and, as a result, often miss several key steps in the buildup.  Chyna and I like to begin the lessons with some passionate kissing, followed by a little over-the-clothes and a little under-the-clothes groping, before moving on to oral. This is where an appropriately-sized mate becomes vital; in order to simultaneously pleasure each other, you really do need to be similar heights. I selected Chyna because we’re both 5’2”, for example. Next, we work on establishing a slow, steady rhythm. Frankly, I don’t know why Rosa puts up with what she does; Brad needs to learn that you can’t just start a lawnmower with one yank, it needs to be primed first. The headboard should start by lightly tapping the wall and then steadily increase in frequency and volume until a regular hammering is maintained. It’s also important that you acknowledge your partner’s efforts with appreciative noises and vocalizations. Chyna tends to be fairly silent, so sometimes I will go falsetto and do her parts for her, just so that Brad and Rosa don’t misunderstand and think it’s all about pleasing me. Finally, unlike what I hear through the wall, an orgasm should be like a shotgun blast, not like a stone casually skipped across the surface of a pond. One should be left quaking and panting; seeing as Chyna can’t pant, I usually undo one of the plugs on her back and squeeze her so the air is released in gasps that match my own.

I deeply hope that my neighbours are paying attention and making mental, if not physical, notes on what I’m achieving, but so far, I haven’t really noticed any improvements on their side. I often hear them giggling and worry that they’re not yet mature enough to really absorb the benefits of my teachings. Perhaps I should reconsider my method, just fold Chyna under my arm, go knock on their door and offer my services in person. Maybe, like me, they’re merely visual learners.

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Chris Evans
Originally from Victoria, BC, Christopher Evans now lives in Vancouver with his wife and young daughter, where he is finally finishing his BFA at UBC. His fiction work has appeared in Grain, Vine Leaves, and The Canary Press and is upcoming in The New Quarterly.