- 1 -

It's hard to measure the cost of a dream, but without question Jack was done dreaming at the moment. The sharp sound of breaking glass outside the loft window had stirred him a few seconds ago and the heat and stench of the trashed alleyway outside made it impossible to get comfortable again. As he sat up his head pounded with the force of a nasty hangover and along with the ache memories of last night slowly surfaced in his mind. Jack had arrived in Phnom Penh the night before after a layover in Taiwan. The total trip had taken more than 30 hours and other than some turbulence somewhere over the pacific ocean the flight was dreadfully uneventful. Jack had tried numerous times to read the spy novel and TIME magazine he had purchased back at the airport in Texas but his thoughts kept creeping off the pages as he fantasized about his destination. Cambodia had been on his mind for months now. He marked down the days to his vacation every morning and spent the evenings researching and planning everything from budgets to weather forecasts. Now, in late spring, the day was finally here and no amount of snoring, arm rest hogging passengers, free in-flight energy drinks, and amazon best sellers could keep his mind off of how close he was to realizing his dream, his most secret fantasy.
Jack's plane had landed at the surprisingly modern Phnom Penh International Airport around 11 PM on a Friday night. He had intended to check into the loft apartment he rented for the two week stay as soon as he arrived but he had instead gotten a taxi to the closest club district. Despite the terrible jet lag and mostly sleepless flight, Jack knew he'd need a few drinks before he was out. "Besides" he thought as he eyed a group of call girls outside a local beer bar, "I've waited almost a year to see the sights".
After several drinks, which barely put a dent in the $10 dollar bill he had exchanged at the door for 40,000 Cambodian riel, he was beyond buzzed. The bar felt like a strip club, but with pool tables and an outside patio it was noteably more relaxed. Also the girls weren't as much dancing as advertising themselves to the outdated western pop music. A few of them were especially attractive and Jack felt his pants tighten around his crotch as a pair of young, dark haired, hostesses came by his table to flirt and implore him to buy another round. They weren't as polished as thai hookers but they seemed more genuine and friendly. More importantly, they were noticeably more grateful for the attention and tips the patrons tossed to them like scraps. Nothing turned Jack on more than a girl swathed in a palpable air of desperation from poverty. These girls were wearing it heavy, in fact the whole city was. His head was floating with a sense of preeminence and cheap drinks and soon he was drunk enough to consider paying to take a particular girl, the one now resting in his lap sporting a sailor collared crop top and a strip of fabric as a skirt, home for the night. He checked the time, 1:13 AM, and mumbled to himself "This isn't what you came here for, Jackie" as he swallowed the remaining ounces of warm beer in his glass. Jack excused himself after leaving a decent tip, grabbed his bag and gave a final scan of the scene. The girls had sauntered over to a nearby table and were instantly hard at work making a middle aged overweight foreigner become flushed with arousal. Jack smiled to himself and nodded at the door girls as he stumbled the few feet to the exit already fishing his phone from his pocket.
The cab ride to the loft was forgettable even if he hadn't been drunk and before he knew it Jack had found himself laying nude on an adequate bed in the small apartment falling fast asleep.

- 2 -

Two advils from his suitcase and three bottles of water seemed to do the trick because Jack was feeling better by the time he stepped out of the shower. The old digital clock by the bed silently announced it was already past 5 PM and Jack took in his abode for the first time. A quick tour revealed the place was comfortable enough despite being inarguably minimalistic. A small kitchenette was connected to the one bedroom with a breakfast bar dividing the two areas. Three stools stood along the bar equidistant from each other and the kitchenette was furnished with a half sized fridge and a cheap portable electric stove top placed on the slighty stained counter. The bedroom was simple as well. Besides the metal framed queen bed tucked under the window there was a wobbly dresser, a wooden box converted into a night stand supporting a inexpensive looking lamp and a faded rug covering half of a simple wooden plank floor. The best feature was that there were two isolating fans that seemed new enough and when they were both on the highest setting the room was actually quite pleasant. Opposite of the kitchenette was a paint chipped door that led to a full bathroom with a sizeable shower and a toilet that would serve its purpose. The only other room in the apartment was a lounge area downstairs that doubled as an entryway. A futon sat to the right of the stairs facing a coffee table covered in pamphlets for local noodle shops and printed ads for the neighborhood clubs and bars. A battery powered AM/FM radio sat on top of an otherwise empty TV stand which was nestled between a low chair covered in a couple colorful blankets and a simple bookshelf which held a few pillows and a clean set of sheets. The whole apartment was littered with cheap decor, most likely whatever had been on sale, hung on the yellowish walls or softening the corners of the rooms. A handmade woven basket sat near the front door that lead to a narrow packed dirt street and another door on the leftmost wall led to a tiny yard encased in a 8 foot cinderblock wall. It made the weed covered dirt patch look a bit like a miniature prison yard but it didn't feel that way, atleast not to Jack. It felt private. Secure. Secret. As he surveyed the final few square feet of the property Jack was more than aware of the fact that for this part of the world, this rental was luxury. There was wealth in Cambodia sure, and certainly nicer resorts and neighborhoods existed in the bustling city but compared to 90 percent of the people that lived here Jack's loft was a palace. Which made it even more ironic as he considered how inconsequential the whole place really was. The loft had come cheap, only $14 dollars a day and he was almost certain the landlords didn't even live in the country. It was maintained by a small band of contracted locals who only came by when needed and through email correspondence with the owners, Jack had been assured he would have no unexpected visitors. "That was part of the benefit of staying away from the tourist traps" Jack told himself with contempt. Honestly the fact he wouldn't be bothered by over an achieving hotel staff and could come and go without unwanted contact was enough to make the place perfect but he loved the idea that just blocks away families lived in crumbling shacks like rats. Turning to head back inside he spotted and took a minute to appreciate the amenity he was most excited about... a moderately sized jacuzzi was situated against the loft on the back patio. It's plastic cover was in place and the tub was partially obscured on one side with some low palms so he moved closer to take a look. Jack was pleasantly surprised to find it was in pristine condition. He had been even more surprised to see it listed as part of the package deal for the place, and as soon as he had read the words on the web page he felt the blood rush to his cock in anticipation for a night shared in that tub with hot wet young bodies. Jack was becoming hard now revisting the fantasy that had plagued him for countless nights since he had booked this place. He was finally here and the jacuzzi seemed to be in even better condition than he had let himself expect.
Back inside Jack finished the fried noodle dish he had ordered about a half hour earlier and he was focused on tracing the route on Google maps to a small shanty town north of Phnom Penh. He didn't really need the app to find his way. Jack had memorized the trek up Highway 5 following the river weeks ago, but even now he insatiably enjoyed day dreaming about every detail of the adventure he was on. In a couple of minute he would be hiring a driver to take him to the area of Svay Pak and he'd spend the evening searching the brothels for the perfect opportunity. Really, there wasn't a need to take the 30 minute drive to find a good whore. Jack knew there were plenty of brothels in the city limits, some even as close as a few blocks, where a man could have his pick of countless girls. He thought again briefly of the beer bar he had visited the night before. "That's not what you're here for Jackie" he reminded himself. As he finished ordering the cab he contemplated the purpose for the extra few miles. Though he was in a city renowned for accessible prostitution Svay Pak offered something the nearby brothels didn't, children.