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why the fuck am i here?

the lights shine from one mans watch to another's, blinding me with its glory. the people move in tandem and god is it hot. the club is electric tonight, everyone feeding off of smiles and swift dancing.

the place reeks of sweat and cum and i'm starting to regret coming here. i was recommended it by a friend, told me i needed to get out a bit. whatever. the chairs fill up once again as a new up beat song begins to play, leaving all the disinterested in their seats. wish nick would of told me it was a sex club.

the lights at the back of the room dim, whilst all spotlights highlight the stage. i take this as a good time to get a drink as all snotty business men depart from the bar. thank god. i call the barman with a flick of my hand, and he swiftly makes his way over.

"hey, what can i get for ya?" he sighs, planting his hands on the bar and resting his head on top. he must be grateful for the rush to be gone.
"just a sex on the beach please, nothin' too fancy" i smile.

the man quickly whips up the drink with practiced pristine, shaking and sturing to his hearts content. he slowly slides it over to me with a wink. i pull out my wallet, collect the respected amount of money needed and it pass it over, ignoring the wink.

"ah, kitty not wanna play today hm?"
"just not my type." i state.
"what's your name at least eh?"

god why won't he just leave me alone.

"clay." and with that, i walk over to the threadbare leather chairs, that probably haven't been cleaned in a while.

i'm not one for sex shows, but i'll do anything to get away from that bar, even if it means sitting with old men that are most likely cheating on their wives.

it's a shame really. almost 30 years of marriage for what? probably realised they were gay awhile ago, yet too scared to come out. so, they waste away just like their money in a gay sex bar, and their poor wives haven't been touched in years.

i feel out of place at this moment. excluded. i'm not here to degrade men on stage, only to give them my money later. their all wearing high end suits with shined shoes and here i am in a polo shirt and jeans. they act like they own the place when in reality, i could buy them wear for wear.

my arms feel shaky as i take a seat and place my drink on the shabby table next to me. as i look around i notice a few chairs lined up against the back wall and i realise what there for. next to them stands a door that reads "staff only" and my mind can only think what really goes on behind there.

the floor begins to vibrate as the heavy bass of a classic song plays. i can practically hear everyone getting their wallets ready. i tap my foot to the music and strum my fingers against the table. what could go wrong here?

my mind hooks back into reality as a small figure starts to show on stage, strutting with such confidence that i could never have. the man has dark chocolate hair to match his eyes and wears one of the thinnest lingerie iv ever seen, accompanied with a thick jacket to cover himself up. his heels flash a bright white, a contrast to the black lace wrapped around his torso.

he slowly peels the coat off himself and i feel like i'm being suffocated, i can't breathe.

holy fucking shit.

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