S A T Y R I A S I S
/ˌsatɪˈrʌɪəsɪs/
↱uncontrollable or excessive
sexual desire in a man.↲

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⇛ Seoul Awaken [Gay Strip Club]
11:04pm

"Hey, hey, hey," he chanted in defense, pushing up a too-dominant stripper from his body. "Why are you feeling me up? Remember, we, the customers, are the doms, and you, my man," he poked at the other's bare chest, hoping that that gesture would mask the flustered imbalance in his tone, "you're supposed to bottom for me."

He tilted his head, snickering at the disgust forming on the half-naked blond's face, and hoping that the male could in no way see through his assertive facade and uncover those internal desires to be dominated.

"So instead of doing whatever it is you're trying, why don't you find your way to my lap, hm?"

Scoffing and practically shivering at the thought of opening his legs for someone other than the person responsible for his housing, the exposed employee sighed before responding, tone low and somewhat intimidating, unknowingly turning on the more muscular fellow at his side.

"Sir," he muttered, struggling to maintain a collected demeanor in order to persuade the supposed top to submit. "Listen, I top. I give. And I get it, you might not be so used to top strippers, but I promise that you will not regret letting me have my way." He shifted in his seat, his almost bare bottom growing uncomfortable on the leather.

Massaging his nose bridge and faking a groan of frustration groan, the persistent customer bit harshly on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head before speaking.

"This is going to work. I don't bottom," lies, "and I'm paying money for this so you better make it worth it," he looked to the side, at the stripper, his squinted eyes holding a level of plea that the distracted male was unfortunately unable to decipher in the dim lighting- he was just teasing, and hopefully, the blond would soon catch on and make their possible private session worth it. "Just give me my lap dance and this will all be over with," he unthinkingly lifted a hand to stroke the man's upper thigh, only to get a hand slapped over, fueling the palm up and to the comfort of its partner. "Why the fuck-"

"Look, guy. This is my third day at this stripper thing, and honestly, I don't understand why most people are so scared of being topped," the slimmer of the two complained, rolling his eyes with a deep sigh tickling his lips, as well as a few shivers as his almost bare body suddenly felt cold.

"If I wanted to be topped so badly then I'd just do what you did and become a stripper," the other spat that pathetic lie, stroking his other hand over the slapped area. "But anyways enough of this. Who says that we were going to have sex when I'm not even allowed to touch you here? Just give me my money's worth of a fucking lap dance so I can leave please."

Closing his eyes and gulping thickly with sexual frustration fueling the tightness of his clenched jaw, and mind running over the possible outcomes of his intended decline- such as a stern warning from his boss for painting a negative image of the strip club on the market- and figuring that those consequences weren't worth it, he muttered a low, "Fine," hesitantly standing to straddle buffer stranger. "But promise to let me top later? I really, really, really need this. And I guarantee that you won't regret it," he begged, eyes piercing and pleading with the others beneath him.

Scoffing and looking up at the ceiling instead of the blond straddling him, the client rested both hands at the back of his head, sighing and relaxing onto his palms as his fingers held them as one cushion. But he couldn't help but ponder on a few things during the empty seconds before a tune of vulgar lyrics could follow routine and sound throughout the entire building; one song had just ended.

What is the danger of having sex with a random stripper? He asked himself rhetorically.

It wasn't as though he had a boyfriend that he cared about, right? Or maybe it was just that Felix didn't matter so much to him? Those freckles that littered his so-called partner's seemingly symmetrical face, and those chocolate eyes that always looked at him with pure adoration. Those plush lips that frequently craved contact with his unwelcoming ones, and those small yet tender arms that always made a successful attempt to embrace his more muscular frame... They didn't mean anything to him, right?

And it wasn't as if he had never secretly savored the imaginations of being at the lustful mercy of a man- stretched open on thin layers of disheveled bedsheets; receiving punishment for even thinking about dominating. But those fantasies- he knew that those fantasies could and would never be manifested to life with his submissive, frustratingly innocent lover.

"Okay," the dark-haired customer muttered, voice raspy and heart beating anxiously against his chest. "Show me what you've got... but after you give me my money's worth."

"Gladly," the blond hummed, prepping his hands on the other's broad shoulders and sighing before letting his painfully scarce feminine side surface, as lines of explicit lyrics sounded throughout the many massive speakers. "We could even leave early. If you want to..."

"You're really bad at this," the client strained from slight discomfort, hands twitching as they fought to remain in a tired post behind his head, just begging to relax and hold on to the stripper's waist and help to control his movements to at least breed the slightest enjoyable feeling. "This isn't progressing, so what do you say we head out now?"

The blond only rolled his eyes, smirking, well aware of his underdeveloped skill.

"Perhaps I could sneak out," he muttered, "It's not like I plan on coming back to work here anytime soon; it doesn't satisfy me..." he shivered at just the repeated thought of the uncomfortably common pressure of bottoming. "My place or yours?"

Looking to the side and drifting into deep thought, filled with the same content as before, the customer sighed, confused. It wasn't until receiving a few taps from the stripper, growing puzzled, that he replied, "Your place, definitely."

He then bit his lip, not from arousal, but from guilt- guilt at the fact that he left a crying boyfriend at home to feel worthless and unloved, just to seek pleasure elsewhere- guilt at the fact that he knew that Felix deserved better.

"And my name is Changbin, by the way. I just think that you should know in case you end up being the one screaming a name," he made that comment just for a quiet laugh, knowing damn well there was no way he could possibly top the older-looking, more desperate stranger.

-

⇛ Blueprint Apartments
12:46am

"Make yourself comfortable," the blond, identified as Chan, instructed, guiding Changbin into his cozy apartment. "And tell me, do you have any preferences or kinks?" He smirked with the question, watching as the brawny stranger walked across the floor nervously, sliding a finger over the furniture. "I want to make this worth it for you."

"I mean, I've never-- I've never bottomed before," Changbin scoffed, "I don't even know why I agreed to do this," he sighed, heart racing against his chest as he'd already started imagining the acquaintance pounding into him mercilessly. Gulping, he continued, "Just-- surprise me. And be... gentle. I don't want my boy- I don't want to not be able to walk in the morning." Changbin drowned a chuckle, mentally chastising himself for almost letting that piece of information slip.

Changbin was well briefed on his pathetically selfish reason for agreeing to have sex with a stranger after aimlessly arguing with his boyfriend. But what he really couldn't formulate a sensible, truthful backup for, was what Felix could've done to him or anyone for him to receive such poor, insensitive treatment from the one he loved.

It wasn't as if his guilt was frustratingly overwhelming, neither was it his first time in a strip club, watering the seeds of infidelity- but spreading his legs for another man, who was clearly overly desperate, not knowing that Changbin was still a virgin behind? He couldn't do it. It already stung a bit whenever he'd have sex with a more familiar man, so much less with someone who would most likely not even spare him a second glance after their naturally painful hookup.

As much as he always craved that experience with a man after the countless porn scenes that he had voluntarily looked at, Changbin was scared, especially considering the fact that Chan was an absolute stranger. With all those taunting, though more than sensible, thoughts flooding his mind, Changbin just couldn't allow himself to go through with sleeping with Chan.

"A-actually," he stuttered, already taking slow and steady steps towards the front door. "I- I don't really want to do it, anymore..."

Chan cocked his head to the side, clenching his jaw and glaring at the black-haired man from a distance, genitals twitching hungrily in his pants.

"I haven't had sex in three fucking days, Changbin," he growled, the social values flooding back into his head one by one keeping him calm, fists still clenched. Sighing to cool his nerves down to an extent, he continued, "Go. Just leave, and think twice before leading somebody else on like that."

Eyes dark with rage and unattended arousal, Chan opened the door for Changbin, hands tensed as they motioned to the empty hallway, outside.

And Changbin only nodded, anxious, before leaving, not even stealing a chance to tell the other goodbye or apologize for the backlash of his conscience through his decision to decline.

Out he went, mind juggling the two choices as to whether or not he should return home to make up with his lover, or back to his usual, more committed yet unnamed hookup to bask in that guilty pleasure from someone else- pleasure that his partner was somewhat still unwilling to give.

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| Bang Chan | 23 years old | sex addict |
❝Teach me how to love, without lust.❞