moaning and thudding and an altogether threshold of sounds and vibrations from the filthy intimacy of strangers. They're fucking next door and I'm staring at this fucking lamp wobbling every now and again.
3:38am
I guess if it was me on the other side of the wall, I'd do a far better job marvelling at my sounds of fucking.
We're very intimate, you and I, the reader and the writer. I expect to hear from you stories of strangers fucking.
3:45am I'm lying. I expect nothing of you. Just as you should expect nothing of me.
