Windowsill sex in brick building

It’s a quiet afternoon, no one walking by. The woman’s leaning out the window, the man’s behind her. They’re both in their late 20s, casual clothes. The building’s old brick, windows are white-framed. Bare tree branches are in front, casting shadows. No one’s watching, just them. She’s got her hand on his waist, he’s got his on her hip. She’s moaning, he’s breathing hard. The sound of the city is faint, but they’re loud. It’s fast, no buildup, just straight in. She’s not looking at him, just the sky. He’s looking at her. They’re both sweaty, hair messy. No one’s coming to interrupt. Just the sound of their bodies and the wind. It’s over in under two minutes. They don’t say anything after. Just stand there, breathing, looking out. Then she turns and walks away. He stays at the window, staring at the street.