Guest_110793:You’re so fucking sexy, baby. Are you gonna come for me already?
I give him a tiny, jerky nod that makes my desperation way more apparent than I want it to be, so I’m grateful he can’t see it. Another message chimes through, but I’ve reached the point where delaying my orgasm is no longer an option.
My wrist aches as I speed up the thrusts, my other hand slipping down and rubbing my clit to make up for taking the vibrator’s stimulation away when I needed the freedom to fuck myself deeper. My body moves in conflicting ways—my backarching in pleasure, but my knees coming together like it’s trying to stave off the climax.
The orgasm that hits is one that makes me understand why the French call it a little death. I’m practically panting afterwards, the chimes from the chat muffled for a few seconds as my body tries to center itself. I resist the urge to toss the vibrator away from me after I turn it off and pull it out, staring up at the ceiling.
Another chime comes through and I blink, almost lazily pulling my eyes over to the chat.
Guest_110793:Such a good fucking girl, Red. So pretty when you come for me like that. Made me come so hard. You okay?
I nod slowly before remembering he can’t see me, clearing my throat. “Yeah.”
The partial use of my screen name is just the thing I needed to remind me that this man is a stranger and I’m not Austin Taylor right now. This bliss I was feeling is chased away by the uncomfortable realization I’d just been entirely too vulnerable and I couldn’t take it back.
I compose myself, pulling myself out of the slumped position I’d fallen into, closing my knees to hide my pussy from the camera. I want to log off.
Guest_110793:Are you really? I’ll make an account when I get off work tonight so I can watch you again, but I don’t wanna leave til I know you’re alright.
“I’m fine,” I promise, hating the way my voice sounds unsure. I don’t try for subtlety when I clear my throat this time. “I know you’re new here, but usually everyone logs off after I come,” I joke.
It’s pretty transparent.
He sends another $50 tip through and I check the show’s total. Over $500. I’ve never gotten this much in one night, much less from an impromptu show.
For once, swindling this much money from a group of men doesn’t make me feel in control. It makes me feel cheap,ironically.
Guest_110793:Sounds like you’re back to yourself, so I’ll do that. Have a good night, Red. See ya later.
I log off before I can do something as stupid as getting my hopes up about talking to him again. I should reach out to the site and see if there’s a way to block someone who isn’t a subscriber yet.
FIVE
MADDOX
An hourafter I dropped a day’s pay on a fucking porn star like some college kid just learning how to use his cock, I’m showered and dressed, making my way to my pickup.
It’s still dark out, and it’s cold as fuck. I cut the headlights as I pull up to the big house, stepping out of my boots on the porch and using the sleeve of my jacket to cover my hand so the metal door handle doesn’t make me even colder.
The house is dark and quiet, the living room just as chilly as I knew it’d be. I flip the light over the stove on so I can see to get around, setting up the coffee makers to brew a pot each.
I’m in the middle of starting a low fire in the fireplace to get the living room warmed up for the girls when I hear the sleepy shuffle of footsteps coming down the stairs behind me.
“Morning,” Tyler grumbles as he takes a seat on the couch and sets his boots down on the floor between his socked feet. He’s already dressed for the day otherwise.
“Morning. What’re you doing?” I ask him as he yawns, scraping his hand down his face. There’s no use asking him why he’s here.
Tate.
Always Tate.
She probably kept him up watching movies or something and he spent the night.
“Heard your truck come up. Figured I might as well get to work,” he says, tugging a boot on. He’s due for another pair.
“Why? I don’t pay you by the hour. Might as well shimmy your ass back upstairs and into Tate’s bed so she can keep you nice and toasty,” I say just to fuck with him and only because I know nothing’s happening in that bed besides sleeping.
He grunts, fixing his jeans over his boots. “Watch it.”
