They ascended the steps two at a time. He pulled on her arm with such ferocity, she was certain he’d end up at the landing holding only a limb.

They fell onto the bed; his hand slithered beneath her blouse as he struggled out of his pants.

“Wait.” She freed herself from his clutches, grabbing his hand seconds before it snatched the coveted prize. “What about your wife?”

“The bitch is clueless; dumb as a post.”

She gasped as his gut pressed against her. The old bed creaked under them, a musical accompaniment to their awkward performance.

Suddenly, an otherworldly sound rose above the din.

“Did you hear that?”

“Just the wind. Relax, sugar.”

Moments later, they heard it again. They disentangled; he lurched toward the closet and tore open the door.

As light flooded the tiny room, he spotted two crouching figures. His wife’s arms were wrapped round a lithe young man; they were stark naked, save her high heels and his handcuffs.

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