What have I done? His remorse was real; he knew he had done a truly bad thing this time. * Mario woke an hour later to a knocking at the hotel room door. He was still lying bollock-naked on top of the bed, semen dried into his chest and freezing from the open window. There was no one at his side and no sign of Paul or any of his clothes or things anywhere around the room, as though he had vanished into thin air. Another knock made him jump to his feet and scramble to make himself decent for the mysterious midnight caller. He opened the door shirtless to find his wife, Denisa, looking both stern and deeply confused. She looked her husband, struck silent by her unexpected appearance, up and down and brushed past him into the room, glancing around inquisitorially and suspiciously. “I received a call, Mario,” she began, going into the en suite bathroom, looking for something, or someone, “That told me to come to this room at this time to ‘find out what my husband is really up to. Nice couple. His name was Dan, and we will call her Kate for this story, but everything else is true. Dan was a short, round happy go luck pothead kind of dude, and work drawing blood for d**g tests (what a joke). Anyway a job like that doesn't pay well, but he was cool. We got along well. We partied in the yard, they had hooked me up with a GF of theres, etc. Dan liked to do projects at the house but wasn't a handy guy. he would often ask for help, or to use tools. I'm like the tool guy, and I'm a union tradesman. After about a year of hanging out Dan kinda' disappeared. For now I have to rewind. Over the year Kate would be a bit of a flirt. We had a chain link fence between our yards. At this time I was still single, a construction worker, and still in the reserves so I was in good shape. I was working odd hours that summer so I had lots of weekdays off. I would be working on stuff out in the yard with my shirt off, and shortly after I was out there she would be in her yard tanning.
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