“Okay,” I say, sitting up straighter. “Hear me out.” I pull my knees up and hug them, already buzzing. “So I started randomly picking a viewer’s name during my orgasm. Like everytime I’m gonna cum I just pick a random or kinda random name to say.”
“Okay,” Lorna says, mildly amused. “That’s a clever ploy, Cove. I might have to steal that, I don’t think my guys would appreciate it though.”
“Yeah, and at first it was just a fun little thing. Like,'Oh JuicyFruitSlut’—bam, moan, done. But now?” I lean forward, eyes wide even though she can’t see me. “It’s a whole fucking thing. Like,thething. People literally beg in the comments for me to pick them. I’ve got DMs full of viewers trying to bribe their way onto the moan list. Tips have doubled. They’re obsessed.”
She hums low. “Naturally. Everyone wants to believe they’re the special one.”
“Exactly.” I grin. “So I was lying here, thinking about my calendar shoot, and the name thing kept bouncing around in my head. And then this crazy idea hit me.”
“Go on,” she says slowly. “I’m listening.”
“What if I didn’t justsaysomeone’s name?”
I let the silence stretch for a beat.
“What if I actually picked a subscriber—random, vetted, totally real—and filmed with them? For the calendar shoot.”
There’s a pause. And then a long, slow exhale.
“You’ve been watchingThe Bacheloragain, haven’t you?”
“No,” I lie. “Okay, yes. But this idea isgold.We pick someone. They get tested, sign a consent and NDA. I film withthem live—or at least semi-live. Make it a whole contest. I’m already calling it ‘The Sweetest Ride.’ Cotton Candy Day is in December, Lorna. This is fate.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes. Then she exhales. “It’s a fucking brilliant promo hook.”
I grin, already vibrating. “So I can do it?”
“You can do it under two conditions. One, they have a background check and pass it with flying colors. I mean real clean—no surprise felonies, no jealous partners with knives, no creeper shit. Agatha is already deep enough in crazy for all of us. I don’t need you getting a psycho too. Second, they need a full STD panel and proof of results before they step one foot on set. I’m not having you go viral for the wrong reasons.”
“Done,” I say immediately, practically bouncing now.
“This could blow up,” she adds. “In a good way.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get sentimental with whoever you pick.”
“Me? Never.”
“Liar.” She laughs, low and warm. “Send me the announcement draft when it’s ready.”
“On it,” I say, and we hang up.
I stare at my phone for a second, grinning like a lunatic. It’s happening. I’m actually doing this.
I open the Notes app and start typing before the buzz wears off, my fingers flying over the screen.
COTTON CANDY KISSES: THE SWEETEST RIDE
One lucky subscriber. One exclusive December shoot.
Want a taste of what it’s like to be the one on camera with me?
Prove it.
Fill out the form. Get tested. Get chosen.
I’ll be picking one fan to join me in person for a once-in-a-lifetime shoot—live, filthy, and sticky-sweet.
