Page 42 of For the Cameras

He stroked himself for me—for thecamera—slowly as I walked up closer and framed the shot. After a minute he turned and walked to the other side of the couch, sitting back and getting comfortable, like he did in most of his videos.

I kept quiet. I had no idea if he wanted me to say anything or make any noise, so I kept my breathing even, just watching as he stroked himself in the frame. I was so turned on it fucking hurt, watching him do what he did best, leaning back onmycouch. Comfortable enough to do all of this in front of me.

I wanted to lean in and take the tip of his cock between my lips. I wanted to lick the glistening bead of precum from the tip and then suck it deep.

And I really,reallywanted to hear the moan that he would make if I had him inside my mouth.

But I was here to be a cameraman.

I lifted my gaze from the back of the camera to his eyes, and as I made eye contact with him I watched his pupils widen, just for a moment. I saw him lick his lips the way he often did in videos right before he came, and I knew it was going to happen soon.

I kept my eyes locked on his. Surprisingly, he held my gaze, too, not daring to look away.

His gaze was blistering. I nodded at him, some small signal to him that yes,God, yes, I wanted him to come.

For me.

For the first time, I watched what Adam looked like when he came, in real life, while getting to seeallof him. He groaned deeply, cursing softly under his breath as his orgasm came. He tugged harder on his cock and lost control, coming in streaks of white up his chest, his lips glistening and parted as he watched me.

I was fucking hypnotized. I was so turned on that for a moment I forgot about the camera altogether, letting out a satisfied sigh as my heart slammed in my chest.

“So fucking hot,” I murmured as I watched him. I remembered that the camera was still recording and then I looked down, turning it off. “Sorry I, uh, said that at the end. I can edit that out.”

“I came really hard,” he said, looking at the sheer amount of streaks all across his stomach, chest, and the back of his hand.

I set the camera down on the couch and leaned forward, sticking out my tongue and licking up a streak of white that was on the back of his hand.

He pulled in a quick breath as I swallowed, looking up at him. I was the one who felt intoxicated now, even though I’d barely had anything to drink.

“Just wanted to taste you,” I said.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Hang on,” I said, getting up and grabbing a towel for him, wetting it down with warm water. During the short moment alone in the bathroom my head was spinning, wondering if I’d gone too far. We hadn’t fucked, but it was still possible that Adam would regret all of this tomorrow. More than anything, I wanted him to feel comfortable. To feel like himself around me.

But God, I’d liked seeing this side of him. Getting to see him let loose, doing whatever the hell he wanted around me. I would never forget the image of him naked and cooking in my kitchen.

I looped back toward the living room and found Adam lying down on my couch, his eyes gently closed. He had passed out, sleeping softly, looking like some sort of dark, handsome fallen angel. I left the wet towel on the kitchen counter and instead unfolded the big, plush blanket that was on the side of the couch. I draped it over his body, tucking him in.

I wished I could freeze this moment. Adam and I were so different—if I’d met him in real life before knowing of his online persona, I probably would have left him alone entirely, sensing that he wasn’t much of a fan of socializing.

But I liked who he was under his shell. If this was the only night we ever spent together, I’d have to be happy with that. Adam didn’t seem to realize it, but someday soon, he would most likely end up finding someone to fall in love with. Then he’d stop uploading videos online, and I’d just end up as a blip in his memories: the flirty guy with a blue streak in his hair who once licked cum from his hand like a desperate freak. Adam didn’t seem to realize how much of a catch he was, but it was undeniable.

I watched him for another few moments, making sure he was comfortable as he slept on my couch. My heart ached a little, seeing him looking so peaceful after he’d been a charming, rambling, tipsy mess just an hour ago. A mess that I really, really liked.

I pulled in a breath, turning and heading down the hall to my bedroom.

Sometimes I missed the old version of me. The version of me that used to say things like Adam said earlier tonight—things about falling in love, or finding “the one.” I used to be hopeful instead of jaded. I could fall in love without knowing how much it could hurt. And even though he was doubtful about it himself, I knew Adam would find someone. Because whowouldn’twant him?

If I hadn’t given up on love, Adam would be exactly the kind of guy I’d want to end up with, too.

12

ADAM

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror for what felt like the tenth time this morning. My hair tended to swoop to one side, but it was like half of it had gotten up today and decided to protest, going the opposite way entirely. All I wanted was to get it to behave.

I smoothed out my shirt, noticing how it hung a little loosely around my waist. All at once I was convinced that it looked like a boxy rectangle, and I went back to my closet, taking it off and tossing it to the side. I put on a green button-down shirt with a faint leaf pattern all over it, taking another look in the mirror. It hugged my torso a little better. Or did it? I was sick of looking in the mirror. I never looked in the mirror this much.

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