I laugh and pull him into my lap. “You want me to cancel with Ono today?”
“Not at all.”
“You want to come with? You can watch or participate or swim in the cove while we do our thing. I’ll even let you be the director.”
Alka huffs. “Thanks, but not this time. Go. Make porn. I’ll be fine, and I promise to meet some people.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you,” he repeats. “I’ll be right here when you get home, and you can tell me about your romp.”
“I’ll be home by dinner,” I promise.
“No problem.”
I hold him for a while longer before letting him get up. We finish eating, and I still feel reluctant to leave. I’m glad we had this conversation since it needed to be had, but I wonder if I opened a wound and am now leaving him to close it again on his own.
“Go,” Alka insists, getting to his feet. “I swear to you, I’m perfectly okay.”
With a heavy exhale, I nod. I sling my satchel over my shoulder and wrap my arms around my husband again. “I’ll be back in a bit. Please have fun today.”
“You’re the one having orgasms. You have fun today.”
“You can have all the orgasms you want,” I assure him. “Withor without a person. Then we can trade stories when I get home.”
“Uh huh. I’ll keep it in mind. Now, go. Don’t be late.”
I kiss his cheek and head out the door. He’s not going to have an orgasm at all while I’m gone, not even of his own making. I know my husband.
But I have to trust that he’s good when he tells me he is. We’ve always had a very open and honest relationship, which is something I greatly treasure. It’s important to both of us that there aren’t any secrets, and we’ve found that while having an open relationship, sharing exactly what we do with other people and how it makes us feel is a way of wiping the slate clean each time. It leaves no questions. No unease. If something makes us uncomfortable about what the other’s done, we talk about it and set a boundary if necessary.
That’s how all healthy relationships should work—talk and compromise. No disregarding the other person’s feelings because you don’t understand them or don’t share them.
I find Ono right where I said I’d meet him. He grins, hugging me before taking his seat on the stool again. “You get in all right?” I ask as I take a seat with him.
He nods. “Yep. Those blond twins are here. We were on the same flight. I’m not sure they recognized me, but they were friendly. I forget their names but the adult creators who push the lines between teasing and taboo.”
“Jack and Jamie, and I’m sure they recognized you,” I say, chuckling. “Have you worked with them before?”
Ono shakes his head. “Have you?”
“I have. Their first question every time we collab—we have three times, I believe—is how do I feel about twins touching. Like you, I’m not sure if it’s for their audience or because it’s their relationship, to be honest.”
“Huh,” he answers. “Curious.”
I shrug. “They have cultivated a fanbase around their hints. Every time I get into their comment section, I see a lot of ‘yes,more. Where are the twin videos?’ Of course, there’s also the Bible thumpers telling them to pray for their souls. Oddly enough, that’s just for the sodomy, most of the time. Not the twincest.”
Ono laughs. “Good to know.”
“You don’t read comments?”
“Nope. I learned a long time ago that to keep my sanity, I don’t read comments. If I see one more vomit face or someone telling me that my sexuality is sick or that I need to pray to their god for forgiveness for my sins, I’m going to go on a rampage. So, unless it’s someone in my industry or someone I know and trust in my DMs, I keep the comment section on for the algorithm alone.”
“That’s a good rule of thumb,” I say. “When I first started out, I’d respond with something just as scathing as their comment. My goal was to make them regret their decision to comment. I moved on to pointing out that they’re clearly doing something online that has the algorithm suggesting gay shit to them so maybe they need to re-examine their bigotry for what is really going on internally. Years ago, I began blocking them. Now, I simply ignore them. A comment is a comment as far as the algorithm is concerned.” I shrug.
“I wish I’d thought of half that stuff. I guess I’m a little more sensitive to their comments than I’d like to be. When my skin is a little thicker, maybe I’ll become more of a voice in my comments.”
“No. Don’t do that. As your fanbase grows, they’ll become your defending voice. I understand that, as the saying goes, ‘with great power comes great responsibility,’ but you need to keep your business in mind. Your audience is there for sex. That’s where you’re making your money. I know that sounds shitty, but if you want to make a difference, you can advocate in different ways like supporting charities that need more funding. You can be their voice and spokesperson without being controversial in your feed.”
