His Own Way Out

by Taylor Saracen

  “So, virtual strippers,” Blake stated, his mind going a mile a minute. “That’s all you do? Take off your clothes?”

  “Sometimes we use dildos, masturbate, do shows together. It just depends on what we’re into at the time.”

  “And how much we want to make,” Annie added.

  “Wow. It would take me, like,” Blake paused to figure it out, “two months to make that kind of money.”

  “Two hours,” the first girl smirked. “And you can do it whenever you want. There are always people online ready to spend that green. Anyway, we’re going to Waffle House if you guys want to come.”

  “I’m assuming you rich bitches are buying?” Tom questioned, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  “We can handle that,” Annie said, yanking the blanket down to expose the naked bodies beneath it. “Wow.”

  Blake adjusted his semi as the girls looked at him appreciatively.

  “Lucky you,” the girl in the middle said, winking at Tom.

  Blake considered telling them that he and Tom hadn’t fucked but reached for the boxer briefs he’d discarded a couple of hours before.

  “Maybe soon,” Tom chuckled, climbing out of bed. “Are you into a free meal and some good company, Blake?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Blake said as he searched the floor for the rest of his clothes.

  Annie tossed him his shirt. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks. How are you so awake after all that vodka?” he asked.

  “A good amount of cocaine,” she replied with a laugh. “It does wonders for perking me up.”

  Blake nodded. It was becoming more obvious by the moment that he was hanging out with a wild crowd. Regardless of how much fun they seemed to be, he didn’t want to get sucked back into his bad habits or create new ones. Still, he was interested in finding out more about the girls’ job and if Tom was into camming, too.

  The chance to get paid while showing his body in front of an anonymous audience was appealing. He was in good shape and had a big dick; he’d probably be able to pull in enough cash to pay off Mr. Dennison and then some. Though Blake didn’t tell the breakfast table full of new friends how interested he was in getting into camera shows, he did casually pick their brains, trying to decide if it was something he would be successful in. By the end of the meal, he was convinced that camming was a path he wanted to take, but unsure how he could get his hands on a computer. Glancing at Tom as he took his last sip of coffee, Blake had an idea, but he knew it would only work out if he made the other guy believe it was his. Luckily, he had a way with words.

  32

  Planting seeds in Tom’s head about camming during their near-nightly drunken make out sessions had worked in Blake’s favor. When Tom presented his brilliant idea that they should do shows together and rake in the cash, Blake was relieved. He listened intently as the other man regurgitated the bits and bobs of information he’d brought up sporadically. While he could have been forthcoming about his interest in giving the medium a go, Blake felt weird about it. They’d only known each other for a week, and, oddly enough, their hangouts hadn’t escalated beyond drinking, kissing, and passing out in Tom’s bed. Proposing that they should mess around on camera seemed like a big step over a thin line, and though Blake wasn’t sure shit with Tom would ever be anything more than fun, he didn’t want to be the one to go there.

  “So, what goal do you think we should start with?” Tom asked, holding his notepad and pen at the ready.

  “Do you really need to write this down?” Blake laughed. “I mean, we’re doing three goals. I think we can remember.”

  “I’ve killed so many brain cells over the last few years that I don’t trust the others not to stage a revolt. I have to get ahead of them.”

  “Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Blake said sarcastically, wondering if Tom had a point. He was smart, but forgetful as fuck. “The girls said to always start with shirts off. We can do 1500 tokens for shirts. We should be able to get that, don’t you think?”

  “Who knows?” Tom shrugged. “They have boobs. Guys can walk around topless in public and nobody gives a shit, but they make girls keep those things under wraps. Maybe it’s worth more to see a girl shirtless than a dude.”

  Blake nodded. “Good point. Your remaining brain cells are compensating for the many you lost.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” Tom crooked, leaning over to give Blake a peck. “Kissing.”

  “Are we narrating what we’re doing now?” Blake smirked. “I’ll do it, too.” He narrowed his eyes at the brunet. “Looking at you incredulously.”

  “Even your stink-face is hot,” Tom sighed. “I’m saying it should be our second goal. A couple rounds of dirty kissing.”

  “Dirty kissing?”

  “Lots of tongue, some lip biting. The good stuff.”

  “We can do that,” Blake agreed, looping an arm around Tom’s slim waist to pull him closer. Dress rehearsal.

  Once their lips were raw and tingling from the fervent session, it was back to business.

  “And what about the third goal?” Tom prompted. “Shirtless, kissing, and then...”

  “We could get naked, hard, and make-out,” Blake offered, not wanting to suggest what he really thought would make great content—Tom blowing him.

  “There’s no way I’m whipping my dick out next to yours,” Tom protested. “No way. Mine will look like a thumb.”

  “Oh c’mon,” Blake laughed, shaking his head. “If it makes you uncomfortable I could just shove mine in your ass and solve the problem.”

  “I bet that would be a lot more comfortable.”

  “Are you a virgin?” Blake asked, surprised by the possible confession.

  “No, but I never fucked a horse before.”

  Blake punched Tom in the arm playfully. “I’m all man.”

  “You may be too much man for me,” Tom admitted. “I should top you.”

  Blake pursed his lips. “I’m not really versatile.”

  “And by not really you mean...”

  “Not at all,” Blake confirmed.

  “Not at all,” Tom repeated, as if he was processing the information.

  “Did you miss how I selected ‘top’ on my Rise and Grind profile? Because I promise you, it was right there. I’m cool not doing anything if you aren’t into it. We can keep doing what we’re doing.”

  “I didn’t miss it. Your dick is intimidating, that’s all.”

  “Is that why we haven’t fucked?”

  “No, we haven’t fucked because you haven’t tried to fuck,” Tom stated. “If you had tried to fuck we would’ve fucked.”

  “Really?” Blake asked, floored by the admission.

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Well, maybe we should tease it in this show. Get people invested, and then fuck for the first time on camera. I bet we’d make a stupid amount of money.”

  “How much do you think we can get?” Tom asked, his blue eyes lighting up at the prospect.

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on how we do tonight. I say we take it really slow and build up the anticipation and then bam, take it to the next level.”

  “Bam, huh?” Tom chuckled. “I’m down. I would’ve done it for free, but I’d rather do it for money.”

  Blake smiled. Suddenly, whatever had been building between them was pushed to the back burner in favor of a promise of cash. As much as he anticipated taking things to the next level, he was looking forward to the potential monetary gain more. Blake had never thought of sex in such a transactional way before, but BodyBanter was a business, and they had to approach it that way. “We can do it for money and for free.”

  “I like it,” Tom decided. “We’re on that mogul shit.”

  “I don’t know if we can be considered moguls if we haven’t made a dime.”

  “We’re about to make a few.”

  Blake shrugged. He’d done enough research to know that women out earned men on camera shows the same way th
ey did in traditional porn. While he wasn’t convinced that they’d earn as much as Annie, Sophia, and Beth did, he was hopeful that they’d make more than he did in a night at the Tulip Tree Tavern. “So, are we doing this or what?” he asked, gesturing to the laptop sitting idle on the dresser.

  “Yes. Let’s take a couple more shots and then it’s go-time,” Tom said, filling the glasses he’d placed on the nightstand with cheap vodka. He downed one instantly before refilling it and giving Blake his.

  It was difficult to tell if Tom was drinking to wash away the nerves or if it was his typical imbibing. Tom and the girls partied hard. Their propensity to get royally wrecked reminded Blake of Nick. Thoughts of his former friend’s incarceration had him turning down the next shot Tom had tried thrust into his hand.

  “I’m good,” Blake assured, crossing the room to grab the computer. “I’ll set it up.” He placed the laptop at the foot of the bed and logged onto the website. After adjusting the tilt of the screen, he looked at Tom, who nodded his head.

  And then they were live.

  “Hello,” Blake said smiling at the tiny lens on the top of the computer. “Welcome to our show. I’m Blake,” he turned to Tom as indication that he should introduce himself, and when he didn’t, he filled in, “and this is Tom.”

  “Look,” Tom directed, pointing at the number of users in the room. Twenty-three. He dropped his voice low. “There are actually people watching.”

  “That’s what we want,” Blake whispered back. He leaned closer to the screen to see the questions and comments trickling in. “Are we a couple? No, we’re not. We’re friends.”

  “Do we want to be a couple?” Tom read with a laugh. “Uh, I don’t know. We’re cool with how things are, I think.”

  “Minus the fact that we haven’t fucked,” Blake added.

  “Yeah, we were just talking about that,” Tom told the screen. “We want to, but we haven’t. It’s weird.”

  “Super weird,” Blake confirmed, placing his hand on Tom’s knee.

  A loud “cha-ching” from the speaker took them by surprise.

  “Oh wow, SixTNine, thanks for the tip.”

  “We’re officially official now,” Tom said, holding his thumbs up. “Thanks.”

  “We should probably set a few goals,” Blake stated, recalling the steps Annie walked him through earlier that day. “There.”

  “Fifty-four people,” Tom noted. “Hi, everyone. Feel free to ask us questions.”

  Blake watched as a wall of text appeared in the chat. “Are we virgins?”

  “No,” Tom chuckled. “We’re not. We just haven’t fucked around with each other.”

  “BigBoy23 asks, where are we from? We’re from Kentucky, BigBoy.”

  “Do we want to fuck?” They looked at one another and smiled. “Yeah, we want to fuck.”

  Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching. The statement had the tips rolling in.

  “That won’t be for a few more shows, though. We’re taking things slow,” Blake informed, enunciating the last word, while making a silly face. “Really, really, really sexy and slow.”

  Cha-ching.

  Tom turned to Blake. “Check it out. We’re nearing our first goal. It seems like we’re going to be taking our shirts off soon.”

  “Sounds good to me. It’s getting kind of warm in here anyway.”

  Cha-ching, cha-ching.

  “BoneTown says, ‘I’ll help you out,’” Tom read. “Thanks for the tip, BoneTown. Do you guys want Blake to give you a little peek at his abs? They’re insane.”

  Compliantly, Blake lifted the hem of his t-shirt enough to show the muscles above the hem of his waistband.

  Cha-ching, cha-ching.

  Goal met.

  As Blake yanked off his top, he grinned at the camera just as he would to a lover he was about to fuck. It came naturally. The fact that strangers were interested in seeing his body—and willing to pay money for the opportunity—made Blake horny. It was nice to be wanted and even better for that want to be backed up by funds that could eventually get him into a better place, both fiscally and emotionally. He felt a certain sense of pride that he’d taken the bull by the horns and tried something new. While he was sure BodyBanter wasn’t as universally accepted as his job at the restaurant, Blake welcomed the day his wrists would ache from jacking off rather than digging into vats of ice cream. He masturbated anyway. What was the big deal of doing it onscreen?

  Fleeting thoughts of his family, and their reactions if they ever found out about his most recent venture, flitted through Blake’s mind, but he pushed them away. He’d attempted to live tens of lives before and was compelled to finally live his own.

  The continual chime of the virtual register assured him that he was on the right track.

  33

  Less than a handful of camera shows had yielded Blake enough money to pay off Mr. Dennison and then some. Though he wasn’t exactly rolling in cash yet, he’d earned enough to purchase a new pair of shoes and some fresh jeans. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to a store and purchased clothing. Since leaving home, he’d been meticulous about caring for his stuff, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to afford replacements. He knew he should be careful about his spending considering the income was variable and the medium unproven, but fuck if it didn’t feel good to treat himself a bit.

  As tentative as he was about the longevity of his cam career, Blake was confident that his next show was going to do well. He and Tom had built up a loyal following of people who were highly anticipating their exploration of one another. Somehow, the authenticity had translated to the screen and the viewers couldn’t get enough.

  Greg (11:34am): I watched you on cam yesterday.

  Blake (11:37am): You watch guys’ cam shows?

  Greg (11:37am): Not really, but I watched yours.

  Blake (11:37am): How did you come across my room if you don’t search guys’ shows?

  Greg (11:38am): We were texting and you said you needed to go because you were getting on cam, super sleuth. Don’t quit your day job.

  Blake (11:39am): Oh yeah. So you watched it?

  Greg (11:39am): Yup.

  Blake (11:39am): That’s kinda weird.

  Greg (11:40am): Is it?

  Blake (11:40am): I don’t know...maybe! Was it weird for you?

  Greg (11:40am): A little weird.

  Blake (11:41am): Don’t watch this afternoon.

  Greg (11:41am): Now that you said that, I think I have to watch. What’s happening this afternoon?

  Blake (11:42am): You didn’t hear our announcement at the end of the last show?

  Greg (11:42am): No. I didn’t watch the whole thing. I bugged out when you started to go down on him.

  Blake (11:43am): Why watch it if you’re not going to stick around for the end? It’s the

  best part.

  Greg (11:43am): I’ll stay for the end today.

  Blake (11:43am): I told you not to watch today.

  Greg (11:43am): Right, but I rarely listen to you and the fact that you’re telling me not to watch makes me want to watch.

  Blake (11:43am): Fine then watch.

  Greg (11:44am): What’s happening today?

  Blake (11:44am): I’m gonna fuck Tom.

  Greg (11:44am): In the ass?

  Blake (11:44am): Right in the ass.

  Greg (11:45am): Cool, cool.

  Blake (11:45am): If you watch you better tip. It’s proper etiquette.

  Greg (11:45am): King of anal etiquette.

  Blake (11:46am): Ha

  Greg (11:46am): Can you bill me later? I’ll buy you a hot dog or something and we can call it even.

  Blake (11:47am): That hot dog better be wrapped in money, bitch.

  Greg (11:47am): That would be dirty. Cash is filthy.

  Blake (11:47am): Ok whatever. I have to get ready.

  Greg (11:48am): How do you get ready?

  Blake (11:48am): I don’t know. I just don’t feel like talking to you anymor
e.

  Greg (11:49am): Legit. See you soon.

  Blake (11:49am): That’s a little creepy.

  Greg (11:49am): Muahaha.

  Laughing, Blake tossed his phone onto Tom’s bed and knocked on the bathroom door. “How’s it going?”

  “Seriously?” Tom huffed.

  “Yeah, I’m just asking. How much longer do you think it’ll take?”

  “However long it takes.”

  “I want to tweet a countdown or something to get people logged in as soon as we get on. Build anticipation.”

  “I’ll tell you when you can put out a ten-minute announcement, alright?” Tom conceded.

  “Okay, but how long do you think it will be until I can announce that?” Blake pressed.

  “Blake!”

  “What?” He tapped a lively melody onto the door. “I’m excited.”

  “To fuck me or to make bank?” Tom laughed.

  “Both equally,” Blake promised. “How much do you think we’re going to pull in?”

  “Can I talk to you about this when I’m done?”

  “When you’re done we’ll be on cam. We can’t talk about how much money we’re making while we’re making money. That would be tacky.”

  “And talking to me while I’m douching isn’t?” Tom retorted.

  “Touché,” Blake laughed, leaving Tom alone to go lay on the bed. He fanned his fingers on his chest, waiting. While he’d never considered himself impatient, something about the impending show had him on pins and needles. He felt like he was on the precipice of big things, like it was the beginning of the rest of his life. Picking up his phone to distract himself, Blake found his mind was on one-track. He opened Twitter and drafted a few possible tweets, whispering the words aloud to figure out which option sounded better.

  “Go ahead,” Tom called.

  Within seconds, the tweet was posted, and Blake was on the floor doing a set of pushups.

  “Really?” Tom chuckled as he walked into the room.

  “Yes, really. I want to look jacked.”

  “Your body is great,” Tom complimented, as he tilted his head to check Blake out.

  Conscious of the attention, Blake stood up, placing his hands on Tom’s butt to yank him in close. “You’re so hot,” he crooned, slotting their mouths together as he kneaded his ass cheeks.