MAKER'S THREES
The place was warm and dim, the kind of lighting that makes skin look softer and shadows a little thicker. It smelled like clean sweat, a hint of soap, and something faintly sweet. The floor had this low hum running through it, like the bass in a club you can feel in your chest.
Maker walked ahead like he owned every inch of the room. Slow, steady, not even glancing back because he knew the patron was following. His voice was low and smooth.
“You like threes,” he said. “Not just to look at… to feel. To have all around you. To keep you busy.”
The first three guys came out together, all the same height and build, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Their shoulders rolled forward at the same time, their chests rose together, and when they stopped, they just stood there — close enough that the heat from them reached you. Their eyes didn’t wander; they stayed locked on the patron, like they were waiting for his next move. Maker said, “These ones wrap around you like they’re one person. Every touch doubled, every breath matched. You’ll lose track of where you end and they start.”
The second set stepped out next. They didn’t look the same, but they fit together like puzzle pieces. One was broad and steady, the kind of guy you know could hold you down without even trying. Another moved with this smooth, quick energy, like he could slip anywhere he wanted. The third just watched with eyes that felt like they were already stripping you down. They circled slowly, brushing close enough for the air between them to feel charged. Maker said, “They work you from every angle. One pulls you in, one keeps you there, the last finds spots you didn’t even know could light you up.”
The last three didn’t move at all at first. They stood in a dark alcove, still as statues. But you could feel their focus, heavy like a hand on the back of your neck. Maker stepped closer to the patron, his voice dropping lower. “These wait. They make you want them before they ever touch you. And when they do… you’ll wonder how you ever stood without them.”
The patron’s breathing had gotten heavier. “I’ll take all three sets. Tonight.”
Maker’s smile was slow and knowing. “Good,” he said. “Tonight you’ll learn that too much is never enough… when it comes in threes.”
Somewhere deep in the building, a bell rang once… twice… three times.
The night had started.
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