Tanner: Whatever, man. If you say so. GTG have a Chem exam and I hate to say it but I think I’m going to fail.
Me: Maybe if you studied more and watched less porn you wouldn’t be thinking that.
Tanner: fuck you. C U Later.
Typical Tanner. Always hyping girls, hookups, anything with a pulse. Usually I don't bite. But this is different. I never expected to become so engrossed in this. I’ve barely had ataste of CottonCandyKisses’ site and it’s already turning into a craving. All I can think about is getting to my room and watching more.
Chapter Five
COVE
I can’t stop thinkingabout that stream last week.
The way I moaned Everest’s name like he was the only one watching. The way it felt in my mouth. Sharp, then sweet. Like cinnamon candy. That weird flutter I got when the chat exploded after I said it. I’ve done hundreds of streams—thousands, probably—but that one? That onestuck.
Saying a random sub’s name during climax has kinda become my signature now. It started as a fluke. A little extra sugar on top. But the reaction? Holy hell. Now, every time I log on, I get a dozen messages begging to be “picked.” Some of them tip more just for the chance. Theyloveit. And I kind of do, too.
I’m sprawled across my couch in nothing but a pair of fuzzy shorts and an oversized hoodie that smells like sleep. One leg is draped over the armrest, and I’m absentmindedly chewing on the corner of my thumbnail, scrolling through comments from the last stream on my laptop. The ones about Everest keep catching my eye.
JuicyFruitSlut: Who’s Everest?
DaddyVibes: Lucky bastard.
SweetNStabby: Will you say my name next time, Kisses?
And that’s when the idea hits me. Like a shot of caffeine straight to the chest.
What if I didn’tjustsay someone’s name?
What if Iactually picked a subscriberto film with me?
My stomach flips.
It’s insane, wild, and logistically a nightmare. But also… kinda genius? And if I’m being honest, really fucking hot. I sit up, grabbing my phone from the coffee table, my pulse kicking up as the idea spins itself into something more real by the second.
I open my browser and type without even thinking: weird holidays in December.
Cotton Candy Day. December 7th.
I blink at the screen, my heart now thudding like it knows something I don’t. Cotton Candy Day.Myname.Myday.
Is this fate?
Did Lorna know when she asked me to do the December shoot?
I tap the link and find out there’s a tiny carnival two hours away throwing a whole event for it. Ferris wheel, food vendors, a snow machine. My brain is already staging the entire shoot: fairy floss, pink lights, me in a corset and thigh-highs, maybe a little powdered sugar down my thighs for effect.
God, it’sperfect.
The only problem? I don’t even know if Lorna will let me. She doesn’t usually say no, but this is a whole other level of chaos. A fan on camera withme?
I open my messages and type out a quick text.
Me: Hey, you got a minute?
She calls before I can even put the phone down.
“Talk to me, sugar tits,” she drawls. I can hear jazz in the background and the clink of a wine glass.
