Third floor sex

It starts when I notice his obnoxious, bright green nova parked outside my window. As soon as I see that thing I know what's in store for him, his girlfriend, her roommate, my partner and I, our kitten and the rest of the occupants in our building: the sounds of sex. This guy has a lot of sex and he's extremely vocal when it comes to expressing his pleasure around it. It's actually pretty funny to think about, but when I'm woken up at two in the morning because of the building shaking and the cat flying off the bed from fear it's not so funny anymore.First the thumping noises begin, which I guess is the bed hitting the wall, then the moans start up.. and continue... then the sighs... then a pause and sometimes more thumping. It's sooooo loud. Luckily it never goes on for too long, he's quick. I can't imagine the floor plan for that bedroom up there because you'd swear the guy was literally hanging out the window while the sex was happening. The bed must be huge and positioned just perfect for the release to flow out the window. Bizarre, but we never hear the girlfriend in all of this, I sure hope she's as happy as he is and just doesn't wish to share it with the neighborhood. But it would be nice to hear her every once in awhile- just to change things up a little. I only live on the first floor so what the hell is the women above me on the second floor doing when this is going on?! Maybe when she sees the car pull up she gets the ear plugs out-who knows. Anyway this guy is not only a sex machine, but he's also, believe it or not a rock star. At least that's what I've decided he is because of his hair style- or lack of, and care free attitude . I'm not sure if he plays in a band regularly or just works in the industry but whenever I see him he is never without his guitar. Along with having sex on the window sill, he jams up there as well; his voice isn't half bad and he handles the guitar like a pro. At least he's not good looking or this would be really strange.I hardly ever see the sex machine up close and personal very often, I either see him walking out to his car or I pass him on the stairs. But the other day he held the door for me while I was juggling a six pack of beer and various other items as I attempted to go for my keys. On the way in I thanked him, then turned around and said how much we enjoyed his music. (Thinking about his groans the whole time) He seemed confused, like rock stars do, as if we had no idea he even played but responded with a soft, genuine "thanks". I mentioned how we especially enjoyed his version of "Overkill" by Men at Work - it was excellent. They had just played it on "Scrubs" a week before, so when we heard it live coming from our building it was pretty cool. He asked me if I played, I said "nah, just listen". He's a very nice guy, but I can't see him without imagining him in a sexual position.It feels awkward to know the most intimate detail of someone but not even know their name. Hearing this guy have an orgasm is pretty personal stuff and seems strange that I know what it sounds like. I mean that's stuff you think about when you're interested in someone, or just curious.., but not when it's the guy on the third floor who walks outside in his pajamas and bare feet to move his car for street cleaning. He doesn't even live in the building. I suppose it's nice to know that my third floor neighbor has a good sex life- but that should really be none of my business. Luckily it's never happened where my girlfriend and I happen to be engaged in a similar act at the same time as the they are. That would just feel downright warped.