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"329, 331, 333..."

I muttered to myself, reading the numbers off the doors as I made my way down the narrow hotel hallway. I could almost hear the sound of my own nervous heartbeat over the quiet buzzing of a nearby ice machine as I pushed my hand into my pocket to pull out a folded, crumpled piece of paper. Cursing myself for the inability to calm my shaking nerves, I unfolded the small parchment and read the number scrawled upon it.

"335."

My eyes moved from the paper up to the door before me.

"335."

This was it. Behind that door waited a night of unparalleled carnal pleasure, but could very well lead to months of shameful regret. I thought briefly about my girlfriend Kim back home, trying with great difficulty to suppress the feelings of guilt that were beginning to weigh heavy on my mind. I had cheated on girlfriends in the past, but Kim was different. I could actually see myself marrying her one day. She was perfect in almost every way.

Almost.

...

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