Another night.

My walk around this time feels sad as hell. I’m just not as energetic. Alongside the nightmares, I’ve been horny as hell. I’ve tried quelling it by masturbating, but there were just times where I felt like I needed to be pounded out by somebody.

Fuck it, I’m gonna dance, I thought.

I hopped on stage and did my thing. Bills came flying towards me as usual. Lightwork.

A man in a dark blazer made his way to me while I was on the floor. He stared at me like I was meat–a prime sirloin steak. 

I had my money in hand after somebody swept it up for me. I thought about fucking the sweeper guy a few times. But I don’t even think he was gay. He hardly ever made eye contact with me. Do what you gotta do to pay the bills, I guess, I thought.

I felt better doing my walk now.

Then I see the man who walked up to me during my dance.

“Hey,” I said, approaching him.

He glanced at me.

“I saw you looking at me when I danced,” I said, getting even closer to him.

“Everyone was looking at you.”

“True.” I smirked. “You enjoy solitude, don't you?” I didn’t want the quieter guys to feel like something was wrong with them for being a little aloof.

He started tapping on his shot glass. “I wouldn’t mind being alone with you.”

My heart rate increased and I had to hold and rub on his upper arm to keep it together.. His smile grew wider. Shit. He was fine.

“My name is Angel, by the way. What’s yours?”

“Keiji.”

“Let me take you to the back,” I whispered.

⃝

The VIP room was only lit with fuschia neon lights. Bottles lined the tables. Two couches were set on the side of the room, while a few large chairs greeted everyone as soon as you walked in. As soon as I sat down, he placed his hands right on my thighs. I could feel his crotch against mine.

This brought me back to the good ol’ host clubs. If I could stand to be around certain men–and women–I could still be there. I loved dancing. But there were times where I didn’t mind rubbing up on a guy, especially if was attractive to me.

I felt my ass cheeks being squeezed.

“Could I see more of you?”

Now this guy wanted to get forward with me.

It was against the rules to fuck clients in the VIP room, and back at my old host club. At host clubs, it was strictly prohibited for customers to touch the hosts. I had a short stint working at a host club catered to women and I thought me being gay would add a more platonic touch. But a lot of these women really wanted to fuck me, even the married ones!

But there were many times where I was horny enough to let a customer pay me in enough cash to at least suck his dick. The boss caught wind of what I was doing and got rid of me.

I didn’t want to repeat my mistakes.

“In the club. Sure.”

He grabbed my ass tighter. “You know what I mean.”

I pursed my lips, letting out a fake smile. Anytime I faked a smile, it was for sure when a customer was testing me.

“If you’re thinking about...that. I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do anything like that here.”

“Get off,” he said quickly.

“Um…”

Then he damn near pushes me off him, almost causing me to bust my head on the nearby table.

“What the fuck!” I shouted.

I spun my head back at him and he’s already out the door. The only thing I get to see is the door closing. I sit in the chair, closing my eyes, doing some uneven breathing exercises. I glance over at a nearby bottle of vodka.

Shit, I thought.