I subconsciously bit my lip as the hot images flashed through my head, some eighties metal playing in the background. And of course, there was magical fog rolling through the devious fantasy.
He looked up, brow raised as if asking me ‘what’without speaking.
Right, I needed to ask him something.
“Listen, okay… so…” Ugh, this was hard. It shouldn’t have been. But, like, this was his house, and I was asking to work in his house. And it wasn’t like my work was normal stuff. It involved bodily fluids. While I could put a towel down, it still was kind of weird, or so I imagined for other people.
“Just spit it out, I ain’t got all day to listen to you stumbling over whatever the fuck you’re tryin’a ask.”
He was so grumpy, it made me want to just forget the whole thing.
Instead of letting him get to me, I squared my shoulders. There was no reason I had to flush this whole vacation-slash-work holiday down the drain. If I didn’t ask, I’d never know the answer. Maybe if I was lucky, the answer would be in my favor, and none of this would have to be weird.
“I do cam work,” I told him, putting out there like it was a normal thing, and it was… to me. Not to a lot of people, and that was a shame. I wasn’t sure what side of the fence Mr. Killjoy Grumpy Pants would fall on, but it was out there now. “And I sort of was hoping—well, needing to, really—work while I’m here. New location, exciting background, stuff like that.”
I hoped he picked up what I was putting down.
He stared at me, brows furrowed.
Okay, well. It seemed as if he hadn’t grasped what I was getting at.
“You’re a photographer?” he asked, his usually gruff voice now sounded plain confused and lost.
“No, I’m a camboy.” When he looked at me, still utterly perplexed, I had to wonder if I was speaking English. I knew enough German to get by, but not how to say anything about my work. So, I was certain I hadn’t randomly and unknowingly switched to speaking that. “I do porn!”
Yes, I shouted it out in a blurted fashion. But when his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and then he looked me over head to toe, I knew he understood me that time.
His gaze didn’t feel… leery. Not like some men, when they heard I was anaughty boywho liked to make a mess of himself in front of the camera. To be fair, I never really felt that way about it, but I knew how people saw me and others in my line of work. However, he was looking me over in more of an appreciative and very curious way. Almost, dare I say, respectfully. It had me nearly bit a hole thought my cheek as I waited for him to say something in response.
I saw the moment it dawned on him. You know, the whole reason why I was bringing this up.
“You need to work, is that what you’re sayin’?”
I let out a shaky breath because, holy crap, if his gaze was this searing when I had my clothes on, I could only imagine what it would be like to stand in front of him naked.
I mean, not like that was going to be happening. I was hoping I could work while he was out doing his thing all day.
“Yes. No. Kind of. I hadn’t really thought about this being someone else’s place when I planned the whole trip. Not that I was going to paint the walls with my cum and leave it there, right? But I get that it’s still kind of…” I trailed off and bit my lip. If I wasn’t mistaken, he looked shocked. I would have sworn his cheeks were tinted pink, but it was hard to tell with his beard and all. “I could, like, cover things with a sheet… or maybe a trash bag.” Though that didn’t seem sexy to me.
My lame suggestion was met with a deeper look of confusion.
This was one of those moments when I was too much, and people didn’t understand me. Yeah, I’d had quite a few of those in my time. I needed to slow it down, maybe do some swift backtracking, and perhaps change my approach.
Or run.
Yep, running was good.
“Hold up,” he said, hand going in the air as if to put me on pause. I bit my bottom lip again and waited. “One thing at a time. You do porn?”
“Yes.” I nodded and sent him a forced smile. No teeth. And I knew my eyes didn’t light up like usual. It was because I was nervous and didn’t know how this was going to go.
“And you want to do some work while you’re here?”
The tightness in my smile melted, making it become more real. Still no teeth, but there was happiness there. He said “work” like there wasn’t anything illicit to it. He didn’t choke on the word or put a devious tone to it. He didn’t emphasize it as if it were silly to even call it that.
My heart stupidly fluttered, and I hated myself for sinking into that feeling for just a second.
“Yes?” he said, snapping me out of my little melty moment.
