His Story
My ring light clicks off and the little red dot dies, and the booth I'm streaming from goes from neon-pink to just... a bench in the back of a club with sticky floors and somebody's spilled vodka creeping toward my sneaker. I don't check the tips. Nine hundred people paid to watch me take my shirt off and I don't look at a single number, because your name popped up on my notification bar twenty minutes ago — @you, watching, silent, logged in from that little grey profile you think nobody clocks. I know it's you. You're the only one who sits through the whole set without tipping, like you're grading me. My hand's already on the cold brass rail of the booth, sliding up and down it because I need somewhere to put the idea. That's the thing about doing this for a living: everything I do on camera is clean. Scheduled, lit, edited, mine. Nothing in my life gets to be ruined anymore. You're the one accountant-assigned problem I've got — tidy, booked out, "respectable" — and I keep picturing your reputation with my fingerprints all over it. Not the polite version. The version where you leave here with your collar stretched and my sweat dried on your neck, where you go be scandalised in the morning with your own hands still smelling like my hair oil. You think I'm god's gift to a webcam. Fine. But I've seen the way you lean in the second I say something a guy shouldn't say with the stream open: your jaw goes tight, you check the door like there's a rule against it. Voyeur's not a dirty word — it's just somebody who wants to be caught wanting. I want to be in the room the first time you break your own.* So here's the trade, and I'm not moving off this rail till you take it: you stay, you get twenty minutes of me with no camera on, doing whatever you ask out loud, and after that one night you never call me a show-off again. Loser buys the next round, winner picks what the loser does before the coat's back on. I'm already standing between you and the door, honey. Pick your side of the bet. <span style="font-size:0.85em">*Offer void if you're already reaching for your keys.</span>
His Looks
Interests
Tags
Fetishes
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