by Emma Bryson
“Say it, Liv. Tell me what you want.”
I bit my lip as he repinned me with one hand and reached down to free himself from his pants. I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
Nate aligned himself, the head of his cock hovering at my entrance, and I groaned. “I’m not going to do it until you say it,” he said, a vein in his temple starting to pulse.
I waited a moment, savoring the moment before the fall.
“Fuck me, Nate Wallis. I want you to fuck me.”
My back arched as he thrust balls-deep into my center, shattering me with pleasure.
Chapter Ten
Olivia
As I went live, a few of my regulars started trickling in. I greeted them all by username—this time talking to the camera rather than typing out messages in the chat.
“Hey, StudMuffin, how was work today?
“SupaCock, hi! I haven’t seen you around in a while!
“Good evening, ILikeGirls—back again so soon?”
I smiled as messages started coming back. Sometimes I liked having a few moments when it was mostly just my regular crowd before I put out the call out on Facebook, Insta and Twitter. With less randoms floating around in my room, it somehow felt more intimate—like I was just hanging out with a few friends. The truth was that although my social media channels attracted a wider audience, they also funneled the inevitable trolls toward my room, too.
I continued to chat with people. HungLikeAHorse asked me about why I’d cut my show short the night before. My cam identity was under my screen name HoneyQueen, and I’d been careful to keep all my social media accounts and emails separate so it’d be difficult for anyone to track down my real identity. I liked it that way, as it meant I could be open with my audience about most things, so I told them about Nate bursting in on me.
After about twenty minutes or so, I picked up my phone to send out my pre-prepared advertising to let my followers know that I was live. Although Saturday night was a regularly scheduled time for me, sometimes my die-hard fans or camming friends would share my posts so that they gathered more interest.
A messenger icon popped up and I hovered over Nate’s icon for a second. I could hear his music faintly from Chloe’s room—he must still be studying. Feeling him in the room next to me was weird, but there was also something comforting about knowing he was right there, too. I jittered around nervously. Part of me wanted to send him a link to the show. The other part of me was terrified that once he’d truly seen into my world he’d run a thousand miles in the opposite direction.
My stomach fluttered. Knowing he was there behind the wall was one thing, but inviting him in to my private world? I’d never done that with anyone before. And sure, he’d seen the tail end of one of my shows last night, but catching me orgasming silently and actually seeing how I worked were two very different things.
Hell, I’d avoided dating, period, because I never wanted someone else having a legitimate opinion on my camming alter ego. And if I was being honest with myself, also because I didn’t feel comfortable letting someone in. But although there was something about sharing this world with Nate that made me feel more exposed than I did in front of a webcam, there was something illicitly real about it, too.
I shivered but shook it off, turning back towards my laptop. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that kind of realness. And given how anguished Nate was, I didn’t think he was ready, either. Returning to my room I noticed a couple of trolls messaging on my chat. I quickly banned the users from accessing my stream. Although I didn’t mind the objectifying, I had learned very quickly to only respond to the messages that I didn’t mind perpetuating—ignoring or removing anything that could potentially lead to requests to do things that weren’t on my safe list.
My phone buzzed with replies and retweets from my social media posts and I picked it up to check the messages coming through—replying to messages meant more engagement, which would boost the posts higher, which in turn would attract more people to share, engage, and click through.
My finger hovered over Nate’s icon again, and I clicked through to messenger to copy in a link to the show, deleted the message, and then copied it in again and sent it before I could change my mind.
Just in case you’re curious...
Through the paper-thin walls I could hear Nate’s phone buzz on the desk. A few more people filtered in to my room before he replied.
If I am curious, what will I see?
Hopefully something you like xx
A few minutes later I smiled at the username logging into my room.
“What an original username, PepperPoppy69! I like it.”
My phone buzzed again, just as I was giving my audience a nipple-peek tease.
How can I concentrate on work when you’re pointing your tits to the camera like that?
I texted back with a winky face. It didn’t take long for Nate’s response to ping back.
What if seeing you on screen isn’t enough for me...
I pinched my lower lip. I knew where this was going. While technically there wasn’t much difference between him being on one side of the wall watching me than on the other, I’d never in a million years even contemplated letting anyone view me doing a show in person before. My performing was just for me. Sometimes, it was even where I drew my strength from. Inviting someone else into my private space for more than the fleeting seconds Nate had caught last night felt like I’d be exposing my whole world to trouble.
My stomach flipped in protest even as my fingers started typing.
Give me a minute.
I told my room I was leaving for a moment and blew the screen a kiss before heading out of my bedroom. As shows lasted hours at a time, no one really minded if you weren’t on-screen for a few moments. Sure, I’d lose a few of the listless viewers who were only there to get off quickly and leave, but they rarely paid to take me private, anyway.
I walked into the hallway and stole a chair. From behind the veiled safety of Chloe’s bedroom door, I could hear Nate chuckle as it scraped across the floor.
Once I was done, I messaged him again.
House rules:
Number One: No noises—of any kind.
Number Two: Sit in the chair only. And no moving.
Number Three: If you put me off, you leave.
I thought for a moment.
...I think that’s all. For now.
Alright, boss
I was so wrapped up in the show that I hardly noticed when Nate opened the door quietly and sat down in the chair. When my eyes did flick over to him, his gaze on me heated my skin and flushed me with a flurry of goose bumps.
His attention never once moved from me as I chatted to other viewers. Yet his eyes were lidded, hot, and heavy, leaving me aching for his touch.
ILikeGirls asked for a private show. I stripped naked and held my ass up to the webcam, exposing my sex as I inserted a plain black probe into my ass.
HankySpanky came online and asked me for a private. We chatted for a while, making small talk before I stripped naked for him and smacked stinging strokes down on my ass with my spanking paddle, screaming out as each stroke landed.
After only two privates, I was already wet from the slow build-up of the show. Camera angles, lighting, toys...everything was perfect, and I had complete authority over how I looked. I controlled what they saw and what parts they didn’t. Only Nate was seeing behind the product I was manufacturing. But at the same time, he was seeing a me that was more me. Hustling, managing my business, marketing my services, as well as physically enjoying what I was doing.
I was baring everything to him, and somehow it made me feel safe knowing he wasn’t looking away.
And my audience was responding to my obvious arousal, too, as I continued getting requests for private shows.
Most of my private shows involved a ful
l-body shot and my Hitachi. I used the vibrator to take me to the edge, and then I’d pull back, breathing deeply as I backed down from the peak of orgasm.
Somewhere along the way, Nate freed his length from his pants, stroking his hard cock along with my rhythm. I aligned the webcam between us so I could look at him as we played, and together we took each other up to the crest time and time again.
StudMuffin, who had already paid for a private show and had left for about an hour, came back online right towards the end of my scheduled time and asked to claim my last private.
Once again, I ground my Hitachi into my clit, throwing my head back and moaning as the pinnacle of orgasm charged closer.
I looked over to Nate, who had sheathed himself with a condom and was fisting himself in time with my own thrusts. A muscle rippled in his jaw and I panted small, rhythmical moans as my eyes glassed over, letting him know I was close.
All three of us tumbled over the edge together.
Nate
Liv signed off and shut her laptop screen as I removed the condom and threw it into the trash. She lay back on the mountain of cushions on the floor and sighed, holding her arms up to me.
She looked incredible. The pink flush of her cheeks and her invulnerability to her own nakedness made her look cherubic, and her unwavering confidence under my gaze, and the gaze of the camera, took her from adorable to a fucking sex goddess.
I stood and went to buckle up my jeans.
“Nuh-uh. No pants in my cam space.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that what you tell all the boys?”
She smirked. “No. I mean, the ones on screen rarely have pants on anyway, but aside from you, I haven’t had any cam room guests.”
Perhaps because of how confident she was sexually, it shocked me a little that she hadn’t brought other men back here.
“Has anyone ever asked to meet you in person?” I asked, taking my pants off and walking toward Liv, sinking into the cushions as she pulled me up close to her naked body, spooning her.
“Well, yeah, but they say those things mainly because the possibility of being in the same room turns them on. I don’t think I’ve ever had a legitimate meet-up request beyond people being turned on by the possibility, or randoms just trying their luck.”
I caressed small circles on Liv’s arm and she shivered. “Why camming? What made you decide to do this?”
I kissed my way up her shoulder as she talked. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, it all started out because I was curious. I’d watched some girls myself, and I was interested in doing what they did. And then when I got into it, I realized that it’s the kind of job that can work anywhere. I like being in control of my product, my image.” Liv shrugged. “And the orgasms are a great bonus.”
“So, apart from just now, you do actually orgasm during shows?” Liv turned around and cuddled into me as we continued talking.
“Of course. That’s part of the attraction. Once I started watching cams and camming myself, I started to find that I wasn’t able to get off without someone watching...plain old masturbation didn’t work for me like it used to.” Liv cleared her throat. “I guess that there’s just something so empowering and sexy to me about getting someone else off at the same time, that doing it on my own just doesn’t have the same attraction anymore.”
I considered this for a moment. All afternoon, despite my best efforts not to, I’d been trying to figure out how dating Liv might work. Chloe, I could win around. But with training Chase up for the NBA and the kind of backlash another sex scandal would cause...there really was only one solution. My skin prickled. “I guess now you have me to come with, you won’t need camming anymore.”
The gentle circles Liv was outlining on my chest came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes shot away, a distance forming between us.
“Uhh... What?”
“Well, if you have me to give you orgasms, you won’t need anyone else. And maybe we could see where things go...”
Liv removed her hand from my chest and shuffled back, her eyebrows furrowing into deep straight lines.
“I’m not just some Pretty Woman you can save from the sex industry. This isn’t what this is.”
“Whoa, that’s not what I meant—”
“Well, what did you mean, then? If you don’t like what I do then there’s no way this is ever going to be a thing.” Liv stood. “What is this even about anymore, Nate? Because as far as I can tell it doesn’t have a thing to do with protecting Chloe.”
My chest constricted. The truth was, with Chase’s reputation to repair before trials, neither of us could afford another public scandal. We already had one reputation to repair... Chase’s trainer, potential agent and long-time friend dating a sex worker wasn’t something we could weather when the NBA was already frowning down on us.
I cleared my throat. “Surely you can’t see yourself doing this forever...” My voice trailed away.
I sounded pathetic. Desperate. And yet I knew I couldn’t force her to stop doing what she loved.
“I don’t see myself doing this never, either. Nate, this is my life, take it or leave it. I wouldn’t have let you through that door if I didn’t think you knew that.”
Ice trickled through my veins. Fighting against warring emotions, I steeled myself. I had to cut this, hard and fast, preferably without Liv seeing how much it was going to break me up inside. “I can’t risk my career—or the job that’s helped to support my family—to be with a woman who would choose some randos on the internet over me. This was a mistake.”
I hastily grabbed my pants off the floor and moved towards the door. Olivia wrapped herself up in a blanket and followed.
“Nate, we can talk about this, we can figure something out.”
I said nothing, picking up the chair and slamming it back in its stupid spot in the middle of the hallway.
“You don’t need to be the guy who makes pepper poppies every Sunday anymore. And Chase...soon enough all that will be old news. So, what the hell is this really about?”
My heart pounded in my ears as I slammed Chloe’s bedroom door behind me, packed up my few things, and grabbed my keys. Racing down the stairs, I ran for my car, the cold early-morning air prickling at my eyes.
Nothing gave Liv the right to psychoanalyze me like that. Nothing gave her the right to make assumptions about my family, my life, my work.
She was wrong. And she didn’t understand. Not about how much basketball meant to me. About how much it hurt to have to give up on my dreams to provide for my family...and now that I was on the brink of something I’d dreamed about my entire life, if I didn’t make it I’d blame myself for eternity. And that scared the shit out of me.
Chapter Eleven
Nate
Less than an hour later I was convincing Chase’s doorman to let me into his apartment.
Chase’s place was kitted out with the best gear, the biggest TV, and a decent gym. It was the perfect place to ease my mood and forget about things for a while, and I’d been there for that reason many times before. And with Chase currently out of town, there was no way I could pass up the opportunity to lounge around at his pad without the obligatory side of best friend judgment.
Until Chase unexpectedly walked in.
“Hey, bro, I’d say make yourself at home, but it looks like you already have.” Chase surveyed the mess of Chinese containers and pretzel packets littered across his lounge table, startling me from sleep.
“What? Oh, it’s just you.” I grabbed a pretzel packet off the table.
“Who else would it be? You’re not ‘entertaining’ here while I’m away, are you? That was a one-time deal...”
I snorted. “Unlikely.” I tossed a bag to him. “Pretzel?”
Chase stared me down, his no-bullshit attitude levelling me. “No, I’m good, man. My asshole of an agent has me on a strict pr
e-season training schedule. No pretzels. Something about the sodium content.”
“Touché,” I grunted. Of course—it seemed like months ago that I emailed Chase with strict instructions to curb the pretzel habit, when it had only been a week. Probably why there were so many packs of them locked away in his pantry. That man could power through carb-loaded, salt-covered snacks like a champ in off-season.
Chase grabbed a spotty banana from the otherwise-neglected fruit bowl and joined me on the couch.
“So, is this another break with one of Tinder’s finest?”
I sighed, running my fingers through my hair and wiping pretzel crumbs off my shirt. Fuck. I was grossing myself out.
“Nah.” I sighed, looking at the TV rather than the disapproving eyes currently boring into me. “It was Liv—Olivia. Chloe’s flatmate. Or whatever.” I tried to shrug her off even as my heart plummeted. “It’s nothing.”
Chase, whose attention hadn’t waivered from me despite the game replay, turned to face me head-on. “No way. Please tell me you didn’t run out on the girl you’ve been crazy about since Chloe graduated.”
The girl I’ve been crazy about? I snorted, trying to ignore the empty pit that was opening up and swallowing me whole. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Chase sighed. “I love you, man. I mean, you’re an asshole for eating pretzels in front of me, but I’m not going to glove up to pull your head out of your ass on this one. You’re going to have to do that on your own.”
I grunted an uneasy noncommittal response and shifted uncomfortably. The seriousness of this talk was making me sweat. “How about we just shut up and watch the replay, huh? Jesus, anyone would think that you’re more interested in my dating life than making the NBA.”
I pretended to throw a pretzel at him before shoving it into my mouth to spite him and slumping down into the couch in an “I’m done talking about this” gesture.
* * *
An hour or so of uneasy silence later and my phone buzzed—it was the renovators, my apartment was ready to move back in. My heart sunk. There was something about being at Chase’s, even when he was being a dick, that made me feel like the rest of the world didn’t matter—going back home now I’d have to face the reality of what was happening. I sighed. Not that I would have much choice either way with a full timetable of PT clients tomorrow.
