Pant. Moan. Thrust. Thrust. Moan again. Orgasm. Leave.
That has been the pattern that Brad's life has followed pretty regularly in the ten years that he's been a dancer at the club. Every night, almost- it's like they're taken, obsessed really, with some quality... He knows it's his near-reluctance.
("it's beyond me help me mommy i'll be good you'll see TAKE THIS DREAM AWAY!")
He stopped seeing their faces years ago, stopped giving them names, histories. It never worked, anyhow– they always just looked like someone else in the end, the very person Brad had been trying to forget.
Frank.