Louder (and more disgusting) Than Love

Here's a short one that i was recently reminded of.

One lazy Sunday morning when we lived at Woodridge, we were sitting in the living room doing nothing in particular. I had to make a trip back to the bedroom to retrieve something. Our bedroom shared a wall with the building manager's bedroom. The building manager was a fat, disgusting, lazy liar named Lucas. I'd love to give his full name, since he's kind of become a public figure in the Madison music scene recently, but i'll take the high road for now. Until it becomes profitable to blackmail him. I'm probably kidding.

With my objective in hand, i started to walk out of the bedroom, but stopped when i heard a woman moaning. I paused for a moment, but the moaning stopped. Was Lucas watching porn?

After a moment, i heard the moaning again. No, i decided. Lucas is definitely having sex.

Amanda called back from the living room, wondering what was taking so long. In a loud whisper, i beckoned for her to come to the bedroom.

"Why?" she asked.

"Lucas is having sex!"

"No way!"

So she came back to the bedroom, and we stood there quietly for several minutes, but there was nothing.

Amanda now thought i was mistaken or something, so she decided to return to the living room and forget all about Lucas's appalling sex life.

She'd no sooner set foot in the hallway when Lucas's voice practically shattered the wall with: "OOOOOHHHHH YEEEEAAAAHHHH!!!!! FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!!!"

We both stood there for a moment, choking back laughter and tears as best we could, lest we alert Lucas to our aural voyeurism. Back in the living room, we just let out for minutes.