Page 57 of Riley

Shame and guilt bloomed in the pit of my stomach.

I’d done my job. The same as I had the day before that, and the day before that.

What was different?

But I knew as I brushed away one of those burgeoning tearsexactlywhat was different.

Because the entire time I performed, I was thinking abouthim.Closing my eyes, rememberinghistouch,hiskiss,hissmile. All of it.

I no longer derived pleasure from what I was doing, despite doing it well.

And the reality was, I hadn’t reallyenjoyedmyself the way I did when I was with Riley, or when I thought about him, in a long time.

I looked around my room, at the closet full of designer clothes, my comfortable 1000 count Egyptian cotton sheets.

I’d built this life for myself, by myself, using little more than my looks and sex appeal, and a part of me had always been proud of that. That I was able to make my dreams come true with a little lube and my big cock.

But that night, I felt my dreams shift. I felt myself emerging from some sort of cum-covered cocoon.

I reached for my phone on the ledge of my desk.

The comments were still pouring in, and each one made my heart ache.

I didn’t want to hear strangers telling me how thirsty they were, or how they wished they could fuck me.

I wanted to hearRileycommanding me, begging me, whispering sweet nothings in my fucking ear like a lovesick puppy.

I swiped up on my screen, brushing past all the comments and tips, bringing up my messenger.

Reaching out for my lifeline, the one person who I thought could calm my sudden hurricane before I spiraled too far out of control.

My fingers shook as I typed out my text, setting a time for tomorrow.

I knew I was reaching, that it wasn’t what I really wanted to talk about.

I wanted to tell him the truth.

My fingers hovered over the keys as I thought about what to say, when hisokaytext came in.

I pursed my lips, staring at the text until another name came across my screen. One that didn’t text me very often.

Jordan.

I tapped the notification immediately.

I have a proposition for you. If you’re interested.

I twisted my lips. Not that I didn’t trust Jordan, but I was not in the mood to be someone’s stand in again, not right now.

But before I could answer, he texted me a damn novel.

Sticky and I have decided to start shifting our focus and look at more passive income streams. A friend of mine came to me with the idea of putting together a coaching course, kind of like a How-To on how to make bank on OF, but it wouldn’t just be OF. She’s looking for people who are good at content creation, and I thought maybe you might be interested in joining us. All the coaches are paid directly by her, so there’s no middle man or anything. All you need to do is create your course, and once it starts selling on the platform, you get a percentage of the salesfrom every customer, and you only need to like... engage with them if they have questions.

I stared at the screen for a moment, trying to process his words.

An OF course?

Like...teachingsomeone?

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