I listen. At first, there's nothing but quiet. Then I hear something faint. I smile. As quietly as I can, I climb the stairs. I sneak down the hall. The sounds get louder as I get closer. Breathing. The creaking of mattress. Wet body noises. Grunts. Moans.
I recognize the rhythmic song. Philip made it home.
I creep to the door and listen. There's a moan. A whisper, "Faster." A wet slurp. Slapping bodies. I lean against the wall. I rub my stomach, not quite going down to my sweet spot. I listen until I can't take it anymore. I peek.