Our neighbors downstairs can apparently hear just about all of our escapades there on the top floor. And when I say all of our escapades, I mean all. of. our. escapades.
Turns out heavy breathing travels well through vent systems and floors/ceilings.
Really, I should be more embarrassed than I am. But I take solace in the fact that our neighbors are even more newlywed than we are. And have a very squeaky mattress.
As mortifying and awkward as it should be, I find it more amusing than anything. I can't stop the fits of laughter whenever I hear the soft ee oo ee oo ee oo ee oo coming from the basement. That's how mature I am.
Needless to say, our friendship with our downstairs neighbors has hit a brand new level. Luckily, they're cool people - and we all understand what happens when a man loves a woman. So it really isn't that bad.
That isn't to say that having an audience will be easy though. Some activities are just more fun when you can, you know, let loose.
But the extra bucks every month makes it pretty much worth every pillow muffle.
And I've never felt more like a cheap porn star admitting that.
Hooray for cohabiting newlywed couples!