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Getting Blown on the Ground Floor

I'm walking home from the Baker Street tube. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a shirtless blonde man, reasonably fit, behind the window of a brightly lit ground floor living room. He's only about 4 yards away from me.

One can't help but glance.

He's holding a plastic bendy tube in his hand, a vacuum hose I imagine, and is waving it all around a brunette woman. Her blue plaid flannel shirt (or perhaps it's his bathrobe) is flapping about, like laundry caught in a gale.

I think about slowing down to get a better handle on what's was going on. Blondie and I make eye contact and both quickly look away from each other.

Step away from the voyeurism op.

You'd think they'd put up curtains before playing their kinky Hoover sex games.