The door opened with almost indecent enthusiasm. I looked up from my computer and saw my girlfriend coming through the door, wearing a blue coat and a wry smile. She was panting a bit.
"There's a couple having sex in a car just down the road!" she trilled, dumping a bag of shopping on the floor.
"Really?" I chose to reply. I've never really paid much attention to the possibility that people may have sex in this street, although I've seen (heard, actually) evidence of it happening in the next house along. I wonder if anyone can hear us... although that doesn't really bear thinking about. We're next to a council estate, so it's a wonder sex shouldn't be happening, actually.
"How do you know?"
"They were naked," she twittered. "They were on the back seat..."
"Say no more!" A thousand scenes in soft porn flicked through my head like one of those flip-o-rama picture books.
A few minutes later I shrugged my own coat on and headed out in the general direction of London. I knew it wouldn't still be happening... especially if they were aware they'd been spotted. But I couldn't help affixing a broad grin to my face as I stepped out into the cold, clear air and bounced off down the street, wondering which car had seen more than just tarmac and pavement that day.