Page 3
It felt weird being proud of something I had zero control over, so I rarely allowed myself to, especially because my partners usually appreciated my admittedly huge dick only in theory. In practice, there were few who could actually take it; trying to get it to fit was often a pain—sometimes literally on their part—and that was not to mention the fact that I had a behemoth in my pants twenty-four-seven. Let’s just say there was nothing subtle about my bulge even when I was freezing.
I wondered if the man on the screen was a fan of big dicks splitting him in half. As I squeezed my rock-hard length in my large palm, I imagined how tight he’d be around my thick shaft.
Jesus, the thought.
As Substar stepped back, exposing more of himself to the camera, I gasped. Substar’s dick was cut, a bit longer than I expected, proportionately thick, and set in a small patch of dark hair he obviously kept trimmed. He had the smoothest shaft I’d ever seen. I stared at it as I let my imagination run wild, dreaming about how his satiny cock would feel between my lips, in my mouth, down my throat.
I moaned as I stroked myself up and down, only once. This needed to last.
Substar was fully naked now and sprawled out on his bed. What I assumed were twinkle lights hanging above him gave his skin a soft glow, fighting with what had to be LED lighting set up just off-camera to enhance the video.
He adjusted slightly on the bed, and damn, this guy sure knew how to work those angles. Just as I was reaching for the lube I kept next to my couch in the back of the side table’s drawer—bachelor, remember?—and slathered my dick with exactly the right amount to give me the friction I craved, the boy on the screen parted his legs, baring everything to the camera, to me.
And I meant everything.
He lifted his balls with his left hand to put the treasure beneath on display. His hairless dusky hole was cute—even this far away, I could tell. And as he reached between his legs with the lubed fingers of his right hand and circled his entrance, I mimicked the motion on the tip of my dick. I could almost believe I was the one caressing his pretty hole, coaxing it open for me.
I pinched the tip of my dick to keep from spurting right then, wincing at the pain that had served as a distraction. My dick hadn’t deflated—I was admittedly a bit of a masochist—but I’d staved off the orgasm.
The show had barely begun, and I was used to edging myself, but damn. This guy was going to have me spurting in seconds if I wasn’t careful.
I had to make this last.
Substar moaned on the screen, and I zeroed in on the sound. He’d just inserted a finger into his sexy-as-hell asshole, and I pumped my dick in time with his finger fucking in and out of it. Jesus, having my cock inside that man would be heaven.
Two then three fingers later, Substar removed his slick, shiny fingers and reached for the vibrator he’d placed on the bed next to him earlier. After another application of lube, he bore down as he inserted the toy, another small moan emanating from his throat as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.
Fuck, that was hot.
I squeezed my shaft again, reminding myself to slow my movements so I didn’t come too early. I wanted to come with him. I had to come with him. I couldn’t fully explain why, but this boy was ringing all my fucking bells.
I tore my hand from my cock violently, clenching everything to hold off an orgasm. If I wasn’t careful, Substar would take my cum before I was ready.
And I was in charge.
“Okay, guys, I’m ready to get started,” Substar began, his deep, accented voice smooth and sensual as it rang out in my quiet house. “Whoever leaves the biggest tip gets to decide when I turn the vibrator on and for how long. And if your tip is big enough—I get to decide what that means—I’ll even let you order me around as we use it. Would you all like to see that?”
He winked at the camera and gripped his slender cock in his hand as he leaned forward to check his screen.
“Oh, and don’t forget: You can always leave comments in the chat. I’ll do my best to read and respond to each one!”
I had no illusions that I would be the highest tipper, but he deserved every single penny, so I sent him a fairly large sum. I was by no means rich, but the gay bar I’d opened up just a few months after my divorce was final—an idea I’d had the day after Carrie’d moved out and had worked on tirelessly to see it come to fruition during the nine months it took for the divorce papers to go through—had taken off after years of scrimping, hard work, and long hours, so I could afford to spend a little. I even left Substar a note praising him for taking the toy so well.
The young man’s eyes lit up as he watched the tips and comments come in. He oohed and aahed appropriately, thanking everyone for their generosity before calling out the handle of the top tipper. It wasn’t me, as I’d expected, so I just sat back to enjoy the show.
Chapter two
Tristan
Ihadn’t planned on signing up for a cam site after I’d graduated college with no idea what to do next, but nights like tonight reminded me why I did it. Sure, the money was good, but some guys could be creepers. Most of them were chill, though—nice, even.
Like MrFox43. His simple comments about how well I’d taken the vibrating plug had sent shivers down my spine in the best way. He’d even left a generous tip.
But I was here to put on a good show for everyone who’d come to watch me, so I turned my attention to the biggest tipper of the night and started talking in the deepest voice I could muster, leaning into my best impression of a nondescript British accent. Impressions were a hobby of mine, but only in the sanctity of my home. Cameron, my bestie, wasn’t even aware I dabbled in them.
For all I knew, I was bad at them. Oh, well.
“Okay, ForBearHeart, you get the honors tonight. Tell me what you’d like me to do.” I grinned for the camera, one that followed me around my room—I’d spent good money on it once my cam business had taken off—and let my perfect teeth glisten in the bright lights. Might as well show off my assets, right? Guys always said they liked my smile.
