"Yes, just like that, fuck me hard," she told me.

Fifteen minutes earlier, we were sipping our drinks at the bar of the Passage House Hotel.

I put my room key on the table. "If you pick it up," I said, "you take your dress off and wait, kneeling on the edge of the bed."

Her pensive, yet stern look pierced my resolve.

I had opened my mouth to speak when her married hand dashed forward. Picking up the keys, she stood, turned and without looking at me, left.

I smiled, noticing the wet patch on the leather chair.