It went like this:
We shared a house. Your boyfriend was in Tuscaloosa. Given the geometry of the room and halls, I could lay in my bed and look into your bedroom, a condition we had both commented on in passing, and more than once after a couple of drinks.
You would talk to him every evening after I had gone to bed, but the conversation would leave you so hot and bothered that you would take to your bed to relieve the frustration. And every time, I wondered if you got more pleasure out of leaving the door open, so I could watch, then in the eventual release.