I woke up Sunday after a big rager the night before to a text from a strange number. It said “Hey Shane – or should I say Shae – that was a hell of a party last night. Here’s a little pic to show you enjoyed it just as much as I did. Come by my place tonight for a repeat performance.” At first I was stoked – I got laid by a hottie last night! Then a knot formed in my stomach as a horrible realization dawned on me. That cock was far too big to be mine. Worst of all, that arm tattoo meant the “hottie” was undeniably me. What the hell did I get up to last night? Just then, my phone buzzed again. “Btw, there’s 36 more pictures like this one. For every night you come to my place, I’ll delete one off my phone. Every night you stand me up, I send one to your buddies. So, pick you up at 8?” Numb, I put my phone down and started pouring some whiskey. Looks like Shane – er, Shae – was going to be pretty busy. 10 shots in and 15 minutes to 8, I was nervous, but smiling even wider than the picture. What a little mess I’d got myself in!