Standing on the hotel's balcony—sixteen stories up—I hide in darkness. Waiting. Searching for the one.
Tour boats voyage along the curves of the river. Buildings sprout from city streets, like erect fingers reaching for the stars. A mariachi band plays 'The Cockroach.' The pulsing rhythm penetrates concrete walls. Tourists walk the sidewalks, stepping over cracks and crevices, searching for happiness.
Like an eagle drawn to its prey, I'm drawn to the movement in a neighboring hotel room. A woman—naked—lingers near the window. Her shapely bronze body energizes me—I finish with a stroke of orgasmic euphoria.
Tour boats voyage along the curves of the river. Buildings sprout from city streets, like erect fingers reaching for the stars. A mariachi band plays 'The Cockroach.' The pulsing rhythm penetrates concrete walls. Tourists walk the sidewalks, stepping over cracks and crevices, searching for happiness.
Like an eagle drawn to its prey, I'm drawn to the movement in a neighboring hotel room. A woman—naked—lingers near the window. Her shapely bronze body energizes me—I finish with a stroke of orgasmic euphoria.
