I knocked on the door.“I knew you'd come,” he said.
It was my second year of college, and I had just moved out of the dorms into a small off-campus apartment. The place was small and had thin walls, but it was cheap and well-maintained. The only downside was my neighbors, who gave me a strange vibe. I would hear them arguing at all hours of the night, speaking French (even though when I spoke to them they both had American accents).
One night, I was trying to fall asleep, when I heard them talking (in French). Since my bedroom shared a wall with their bathroom, I was curious as to why they were chatting in their bathroom, but I figured what the hell, to each their own. I soon realized, though, that they were doing much more in their bathroom than chatting, as the sounds of conversation morphed into the sounds of loud sex.
I got up to go watch TV until they had finished, but as I left the room I heard the voice of a third person join in… then a fourth… then a fifth! Soon enough, they were having a bona fide bathroom orgy, shouting things in French that I'm sure they don't print in phrase books. In retrospect, I regret not knocking on their door. What were they doing? Where were they doing it? In the tub? On the commode? So many unanswered questions.
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