2. ZANDER

I exhibited a pattern of behavior that went directly against my wants to find a relationship. I lived in a city with far more bottoms than tops, and I was an equal whoreportunist to make sure that all those bottoms got topped at least once.

I'd agreed to meet a friend at one of my favorite places. The Playhouse Club was every sexual desire I'd ever had, on steroids. I only went there on the weekend, although there should never be a limit on pleasure seeking activities.

Gael, my friend, was a tattooist. He'd mentioning bringing his boyfriend here and how he had a friend. The last thing I needed was to be set up, and he knew that, so I worked off the assumption that he was just bringing a friend to show him the place.

I was beyond late to meet my friend, but when there was a bottom out there in need, I came—or was that cum, either way, I did the deed and satisfied another hungry hole. In a nice, black ensemble, shirt and jeans, I went to go meet them.

My evening was just getting started it seemed as I spotted Gael by the bar.

"This is my boyfriend, Ash," he said. "And Ash's friend—" he turned around. "Oh. There he is."

"Sam," Ash said. "Look who we've bumped into, this is Gael's friend."

It was nice that they played the ruse of this not being a pre-designed event, but what neither of them had counted on was that I'd just fucked their friend in one of the rooms upstairs. And he didn't even know it was me. "Hi," I said.

"Hot," he said.

"Thanks."

"I like to say it how it is," he said. "You have a symmetrical face, very pleasing."

"And you have—" I was never caught off-guard like this. "A lot of confidence wearing next to nothing." And I knew exactly what he was hiding under that crop top and those loose fit denim shorts.

"So, what do you do?" he asked.

The minute I said it, he'd put it all together and realize the man behind the bear head was me.

Gael spoke. "Zander owns a store, he rents out—um, stuff for events, like photobooth things, you know the type of shit people get for weddings."

"Yeah," I said, nodding, not adding anything extra. He'd missed a key part of my business, which was renting out costumes, but sure enough, he was right. "And what do you do?"

"I'm a bartender," he said.

Ash hit his arm. "You're selling yourself short," he said. "Sam went to this mixology school, he makes the best cocktails. I had him make specialty cocktails for one of my gallery openings."

"That's right, I've seen your paintings," I said. "Well, I've seen photographs of them."

"It was a two-week course," Sam jumped in. "And it's kinda mandatory, but I've done a bunch of classes and I went wine tasting in Italy and France last year, so I'd like to think I know what I'm talking about."

Now I felt like the odd one out. Gael had his tattoos, Ash had paintings, Sam had a passion for cocktails, and all I did was dress up and jerk off on a webcam for a job. The second part of my job wasn't public knowledge, but it was how I made most of my money.

"So, what kinks are you into?" I flat out asked him, not wanting to waste a moment.

Gael and Ash took that as their cue to leave the conversation.

Sam's tongue brushed across his teeth as he looked lost in thought. I wondered what he was censoring himself from. There were no right or wrong answers.

"Be honest," I added. "It's a safe space."

And the Playhouse Club was a safe space, operating on a traffic light system where kink and intimacy were concerned. Red for stop, green for go, and amber for caution.

"I've never really detailed my kinks," he said, his tongue searching for the straw in his glass. "My friend probably wouldn't want me to tell you that I pretty much love looking at dick, sucking dick, thinking about dick at any given minute, stripping men down in my imagination."

"A voyeur?" I asked.

Sam sucked hard on the straw, finishing his drink. "Yeah, a little, but the idea of being watched sounds fun, I've just never tried it."

I stared at him, wondering how he was recovering from what we'd just done upstairs, and whether or not he realized it was me. He can't have done, otherwise I assumed he would've said something. Sam didn't seem the type to keep quiet about revelations. "Is that why you like it here?" I asked. "You get to walk around, perv on people and get off to it when you're home?"

He laughed. "No, I usually just take it upstairs," he said. "I pick someone giving off BDE and then I ride them until either their dick comes off, or I cum, whichever happens first."

I was ready to give my testimonial to that, he definitely rode dick like he was racing in the Kentucky Derby. "Wow," was all I could muster. "I'm guessing that makes you a bottom."

"I thought that was obvious."

"Oh, very. I was just making sure." The temptation to ask to see these skills was high, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to spoil the surprise that I was the mysterious man behind the mask.

"I like to be honest, so I'll let you know now that I just had sex with someone," he said. "In case you were wondering."

"Right. Well, I didn't want to presume anything."

He slurped at the bottom of the glass with ice. There was nothing left. "And kinks do you have then?"

"Not to sound corny, but I love being watched, and I like what I consider demon twinks."

"Demon twinks?"

"Yeah, feral, the type of twink to post their entire hole on the internet under a post of a dick," I said. I knew the type very well. They were under most of my posts.

He smacked his lips. "I don't get my porn from the internet," he said. "I go for the real thing, or nothing at all. And failing that, I have a very good memory I can play with myself over."

I didn't know if he was lying, because almost everyone like him was online. "Like, ever?"

"Listen, internet porn is a disease. I'm a Capricorn, you're not going to change my mind about this. I'm what you might call stubborn."

This was flirting, and that was an invite. "You're missing out."

"What does a top need to be watching porn for when you have a sea of hungry bottoms?" he said, gesturing with a hand to the people around. And he was mostly wrong because the bar was full of tops plucking the courage to visit the bottoms in one of the many playrooms.

"Who said I watch it?" I was dropping hints.

"Then you make it." And Sam was picking them up. "What's your star sign? I wanna know what type of top you are?"

I had a feeling he knew the type of top I was. "I'm a Taurus, the bull."

Sam jaw turned slack before sinking his teeth into his lip. "Two earth signs. That could be a disaster."

"How so?" I asked. "Should we grab another drink and talk about it?"

"Is this how you plan on getting into my pants?"

I chuckled. He had no idea. "Nope, I'm purely curious about your thoughts."

At the bar, Sam made sly comments about the bartenders not doing a good job, cracking me up in laughter, and in the same breath as his jokes, he'd offered up a second meeting where he'd make me a drink of choice, any drink.

As we sat in a darkened corner table with our mixed vodka and cranberry drinks, I felt the pull to him grow stronger. Usually, once I'd had sex with someone, the draw vanished, but Sam still didn't know, and part of that excited me.

"You were telling me about whether we're compatible," I reminded him.

"Yeah, we're not," he said. "Two earth signs are asking for trouble. You're a bull."

"I'm hung like a what?"

"In your dreams you are," he said, his hand playfully on my thigh, squeezing.

"In my dreams I'm being chased by this hungry demon twink trying to show me his tight, shaved hole," I said, it had been a nightmare, and once a reality, but far less of a horror than the nightmare. "Wait, was that you in my dream?" I followed suit, placing my hand on his thigh, a little further in than he was on mine, rubbing my fingers across the fishnets.

Sam stared into my eyes. "Just trying to take your face in," he said. "There's something familiar about you. But it's not your face."

It was the hand. "You might've seen me online then."

"No, I don't watch porn," he stated once more. "It rots your brain."

"Yeah, with pleasure. You're missing out."

"Anyway, we're losing focus," he said, removing his hand and grabbing his drink. He sucked through the straw, but not finishing it this time. "I'm a sea-goat."

I laughed hard. "Ok, but—"

"No, my star sign." He put his drink down and touched my face with his icy hold. "My sign has horns, yours has horns, so—"

"You're could say we're both horny then."

He laughed with me at that, hysterically. He began playfully swatting my arm. "It's a perpetual state for me."

"I can tell." I squeezed his inner thigh. "So, I know our friends set us up, but what do you think about getting out of here?" I asked.

"I'd usually say no, but since you're not actually a stranger, I'd like to," he said. "Maybe I could take you back to mine and make that drink I promised you."

"Or, we come back to my place, I show you what you're missing out on, and you can help yourself to my bar," I said. It wasn't a fully stocked bar, but there was a little cart with a bunch of spirits on it.

"Is that your kink?" he asked. "Getting so-called demon twinks to your place?"

I never invited anyone over, I usually hooked up in here and that was it. "No, but if you don't want to, then we can stay right here and talk, but it's gonna get busier than this, and then all the rooms will fill up and we won't have anywhere to fuck."

His hand was back on my inner thigh, inching higher until it met my cock, chubbing up at the feel of his hand. "Even after I told you I'd had sex here before meeting you, you're still interested?"

"Unless you did something that means you can't fuck someone else, then yeah." And even then, that wouldn't have mattered because I wasn't someone else, and I wanted to be somewhere quiet before letting him on in my little secret. "And I also had sex with someone before, I guess I was trying to pregame and not immediately jump into bed with you." And oh, how wrong I was.

"Then drink up," he said. "You can sort out an Uber, I'll go tell Ash we're leaving."

"Got it." I didn't know much I liked taking orders, but there was one place he wouldn't be giving the orders, and that place was going to teach him a lesson or two in pleasure.