06.02 VIKTOR – Night Escape 12.7 from 20:00 – 23:30

I didn't want to meddle in Lydia's world of self-confidence and arrogance. When she showed me her new tits and proudly pointed at them, she seemed to care about nothing other than her own pleasure. I let her revel in her self-complacency. After all, what else was left for me? Lydia had always been like that – first her ego, then a long silence, and only after that everything else. But I had to admit she looked good, even though I never said it out loud. I didn't want to add fuel to the fire of her self-centeredness.

And then there was Madam La Fernette – she'd already had enough Fernet, considering she'd barely arrived. She ignored the whole world around her and poured another dose of bitterness into her glass. She sat there like a statue, her eyes clouded by alcohol, her fingers gripping the glass convulsively. I was always fascinated by how she could drink so much Fernet and still sit straight. The others around her were having loud debates, laughing, but she seemed to exist in a different dimension. Sometimes I wondered what she was actually running from, what kind of demons she was trying to drown in that dark liquid. As I walked past, she didn't even raise her head – she just mechanically topped up her glass and took a deep drink, as if it were the only thing that mattered in the entire universe.

It was one big theater here – everyone played their part, and me? I was forced to be the center of attention, even though I'd rather be somewhere in the shadows. That's always how it goes in a porn cinema – the moment I show up, I become the target of remarks and comments. Sometimes I wonder why I even come here, but I know full well that I'm drawn here like a magnet.

"Well, what are you staring at, you've got work upstairs!" Milan hissed from behind the bar. "There's a Slovak guy with a huge dick."

His words sounded like music to my ears. Work – yes, that's exactly what I need. I thought about that guy upstairs – maybe that's precisely the distraction I need right now. Something to blow off steam, something to help me forget how much love, affection, and tenderness Tom had just given me in the pool. It was as if I had what I felt for him written on my forehead. Fuck, I need to switch off. And Milan knows it, which is why he always looks at me like that, as if he could see right through to my stomach.

I sat there in the darkness of the booth, the porn light mingling with dust, and I felt like I was in a vacuum. Tears streamed down my face, droplets of pain that fell onto my thighs. Everything was so insanely real, the pain of Tom's words, the laughter of the others, the betrayal I felt in every heartbeat. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by what had happened an hour ago in the pool. It was as if someone had torn my heart out of my chest and trampled on it right in front of me. I pressed my palms to my face and tried to suppress the sob that was tearing its way up my throat. I didn't want anyone to hear me. I didn't want anyone to know how much it hit me. How weak I am. How vulnerable I am. How fucking naive I am!

But then it happened. Something inside me snapped. As if a pin holding my emotions together had come loose. And suddenly, I knew what I had to do. It wasn't about revenge—not quite. It was about showing Tom and myself that I wasn't just an ordinary puppet on his string. I felt my blood rushing faster through my veins, my stomach tightening, and my fingers curling automatically into my palms. That pain, that anger, that helplessness—it all fused inside me into one giant hurricane that couldn't be stopped. I didn't want to be that boy anymore who constantly apologizes just for existing. The one who lets himself be dragged around and then says thank you on top of that. No, never again.

I stood up and wiped my face, leaving wet traces of tears on my fingers that I quickly wiped off on my jeans. I looked at the hole in the cabin wall—a gloryhole—and felt a wild mix of anger and determination pulsing through my veins like poison. Something inside me broke, something that could no longer be glued back together. "Want to play this game? Then let's play it," I muttered to myself and swallowed down the bitterness rising in my throat like bile. My fingers clenched into my palms, my nails digging into my skin, but that pain was almost pleasant, real.

I forgot about Tom, I forgot about the pain. There was only a desire for triumph, to show him he wouldn't mess with me so easily. I deployed my masculine weapons—my strength, my courage, and yes, even that dick between my legs. I felt the blood pumping through my entire body, my senses sharpening. At that moment, I had no doubts, no fear. I was like an animal guided only by instinct and the desire to dominate. It flashed through my head that this was the part of me I had always tried to hide, but now I had let it off the leash. And damn, it was liberating.

At that moment, I felt a sudden surge of power. My balls were as heavy as steel melons and my dick was throbbing with excitement. This is going to be my battle and I don't intend to lose. A wave of adrenaline flooded my body, forcing me to act without thinking. I felt every muscle tense up, my blood flowing through my veins like liquid fire. It was a feeling of power I hadn't experienced in a long time—as if I could suddenly do anything. I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. No more retreating, no more doubts. Now is the time to show who I really am.

I shrugged Tom off my thoughts like unnecessary ballast and focused on that giant bird behind the wall. All the talk downstairs at the bar—yeah, I get it now. And I'm going to be the one to give it to him.

I closed my eyes and imagined Tom, how my lips would drive him crazy—no, I wasn't weak, but the one holding the reins. I felt my heart pounding in my throat as I pictured his toned body under my hands. I'd always been fascinated by that contrast—outwardly he acted like a confident athlete, but in private I caught a desire in his eyes to submit. It was precisely the thought that I could break his mask, that he would lose control because of me, which excited me more than anything else. I didn't want to control him, I just longed to see him surrender to me willingly, to yield to me, even if he would never admit it.

Then that huge dick ended up in my hand. It was hot and hard and I worked it like a pro. Heat radiated from me and the power of the night mingled with every stroke of my hand. I felt it pulsing in my palm, trembling beneath my fingers. It was like holding pure excitement in my hand, something that transcended me, and yet belonged to me at least for this moment. I slowly sped up the pace, perceiving every detail, every vein beneath the taut skin. I knew exactly what I was doing—I'd honed this art for years, in the dark corners of Husitská Street, in stalls full of sighs and desire. The night around us grew thicker and I plunged deeper into that game where I was master of the situation.

The night was young and I was ready for battle. Viktor will howl in the night? Yeah, but this time it's going to be the blissful howl of a winner. My victory! I felt the adrenaline pumping through my veins, my pulse quickening with every thought of what was to come. I claimed this night as my own, it was mine, and no one could take it from me. I finally had all the cards in my hand, I was finally the one setting the rules of the game. After all those losses, after all those nights full of quiet frustration and suppressed anger, I was now standing on the threshold of something I deserved. The darkness around me seemed to nod in agreement—tonight, I will be the winner.