Sensual Networking (Realistic Erotic Thriller)

Saturday April 2nd, 2011 - A TRIP TO ASIA

It is Saturday morning in Belo Horizonte, the capital of the state of Minas Gerais, Brazil. One of the nearly two and a half million humans who inhabit the inner city, wakes up with the usual sound of hammering from the construction going on next door to his folk's home. Twelve years ago, his parent's building was relatively isolated on Fernandes Tourinho Street, but it has since gained the damned company of other huge structures. The building's pool, bathed with the shade from these new edifices, had turned a morning swim into an Arctic iron man experience. It also meant in over a decade, it has been virtually impossible to sleep after 7 AM during the workweeks. The constant noises of banging hammers, cement mixers, electric skill saws, and other noisome equipment kept the raucousness at a good pitch. Fortunately, on weekends, they punched the clock a bit later.

"Damn, no one deserves to be woken up on a Saturday morning at nine o'clock with all this racket," is the first thing which comes to the numb mind of Marcos, but this dismal thought is immediately interrupted by the remembrance of the fantastic lay the night before. "Why bitch, though? Things could be worse," and he continues to stretch out on the couch relishing the still vivid memory stirring his mind and whole body. "Like, pushing 40, many guys are already semi-impotent, but instead I am still in my prime!" Last night he had not even bothered to wash himself: "the shower at the hotel was good enough and I don't want to risk waking up mom or dad," he pondered yesterday; but now, Marcos realizes he could still smell her scent. "This is often the most difficult part of the whole thing," the engineer reflects, "when you get back to home sweet home, there is always the possibility your wife will recognize a different kind perfume or worse, get a whiff of the infamous love motel funk which seems to rise from your very pores."

This time, the gent did not even have to spend money on some hot sheet motel. Sandra had gotten a free room from her modeling agency at an apart-hotel, which the company maintained for its string of clackers. Marcos understood this was normal business procedure. Most girls came from the interior of the state to get their books made and be photographed, and usually they had nowhere to stay. He already knew all this from his chats with Sandra, and was fully aware the Promenade Volpi Hotel was just a stone's throw away from his parent's flat, which was good and bad at the same time. Before yesterday, Marcos had considered the possibility of going himself to the town of Montes Claros where she lived, about 200 miles from Belo Horizonte. Their chats were getting so "interesting hot," he hesitated to wait any longer; the woman was ready to be scored. "Sometimes, if you wait too long the magic goes away, or she'll find somebody else." Marcos knew, if only too well, "shit happens, especially at this stage in the flirt. Once the chick is ready, you gotta strike!" Sandra told him, early on, she was set to travel to Belo Horizonte any day for a modeling job; she was merely waiting for a call from her agency. Nevertheless, their request was taking its sweet little time and once the forty-something felt the time was ripe, he imagined his chances diminishing every day: "From this point onwards, I have more to lose than to gain from our Facebook chats." Finally, last week, the vixen revealed the agency folks had called, and the arrangements were in place. She would be coming into the city to try out for a brand of cosmetics or something like that. She talked on and on about the new work, but Marcos barely listened: "Who pays any attention to these silly details, she is ready!" And let off a mental "Yessss!"

The next step was to clear the home situation: "Hey, Vanessa, I am planning a Friday night with the guys, we have not been out in a while, you know, we have to catch up and do our thing." Nothing suspicious about that, a classic "boys night out" which involved plenty of booze. Probably it would be best if they decided, already from the start, that Marcos should sack-in at his folk's place, which was in the middle of Savassi and close to the main hot spots. "Honey, you know how it is with the no drinking and driving. Besides, we need to give a good example to the girls," he had added for good measure.