For polite conversations


That night, they were fucking inside there. No, wait, I didn’t mean to say that. They called it lovemaking, as they have corrected me indirectly beforehand. “I (we) don’t fuck, boink or whatever, we make love.” 

Anyway, they knew it, we knew it. They were having sex inside that room, just one small thin door between them and us. The fact that there came no noise out there indicated that they were gone. The room was filled with stuff lying around, clothes, tools, papers and what not on the floor. With in the end the kingsize bed, overthrown sheet and a few random items covering it. Ten minutes later they stepped outside, inaudibly giggling as she said good evening to all of us. The whole family had assembled. They were back again among us, but nobody entered that room anymore for the rest of the evening. Everybody knew, but you don’t talk about stuff like that.