Peep

The Scullery door shouldn't be closed, especially at this point of the late morning before the midday meal.

With one last glance around, you lean down and look through the keyhole.

Subdued movement on the main table that stretches the middle of the room. You can make out flesh. Young, full, breasts jiggle as the young woman who is laid upon the countertop receives a gentle, deep, pounding from a man at the far end of the table. You cannot make out a face from your vantage point, but his chest is covered in a thick, course layer of hair. Fionn is moaning quietly, rolling her thick nipples between her fingers.