Page 39 of Tips and Trysts

Cora blinks before shaking her head, as if she’s forcing herself to focus. Exhaling, she changes the angle of the vibrator and presses it against her clit, rubbing little circles around the bud and her hood piercing.

The words come easily now.

FuckingMyOwnFace:Practice like a good girl. Prep for me. Because you know whatever that toy does for you, I’ll do it better.

She puts the thick end of the vibrator into her pussy, letting the small appendage press against her clit. Her good arm is working the toy in a blur, moving so fast that I can hear the crude, wet sound of her stuffing herself. She arches. She gasps. And all I can think about as her spine curves off the mattress, is what a damn shame it is to see her pierced tits unattended.

She needs a hand on them. A mouth on them. A tongue circling those barbells to make her nipples feel amazing—the way she intended when she pierced them.

FuckingMyOwnFace:You’re perfect. Such a perfect little slut. You make me so proud.

Her climax bursts through. The moan she releases is throaty but melodic, tinged with a crackle of vocal fry. “Yes,” she grits out, eyes shut tight and her head back as much as her mattress allows. “Oh fuck, I love how good you make me feel. Such a good boy.”

A good boy.

A good boy.

Was I the good boy who made her come? I could be. I want to be.

A good boy. The very best.

FuckingMyOwnFace:I’m going to think about this night forever—especially when I fill those needy, slutty holes with my cum.

When I hit send for a fifth and final time, it’s like a shot of adrenaline and a taste of freedom. For the first time, I’ve said whatever I want to Cora without consequences.

And that freedom? It’s heady. The thought of doing this regularly—ofworshippingCora in front of anyone—is steadily becoming my white whale.

Onscreen, Cora tosses the vibrator to the side and props herself up on her elbow to wind things down.

My heart is galloping on the wide, open plains, trampling the tallgrass. And because I’m going to be her best customer, I send one more message:

FuckingMyOwnFace:Also, Tyler Shepherd, if you’re watching this right now: Log the fuck off.

Minutes later, when Cora ends the stream, I go straight to her condo and ring the bell. The door swings open, and she’s standing there, cheeks flushed pink and her hair damp at the temples. Even under the dim hallway lights, I can see her pupils dilated in the meadow of her brown irises. They’re locked on me. Her lips part and shut almost immediately before she inhales through her nose.

It takes me a beat to realize how heavily I’m breathing. She’s breathing audibly too, maybe from coming barely ten minutes ago, but certainly not for the same reason I am.

For me, everything is different now.

Cora’s expression doesn’t budge. Her eyes flicker over me until her brow lifts fractionally, barely.

“You’re,” I begin, shaking my head. “You’re—”

“I’m a camgirl,” she answers, enunciating the hard consonants in the words while shrugging. “This is how it goes.”

The acidity in her tone doesn’t compute at first. Then I realize: She’s waiting for me to tell her I hated it. Even after everything I wrote in the chat, even after I damn-near sprinted over here, Cora still doesn’t believe I could ever handle her career.

I don’t blame her. I waited a long time to tell her I was comfortable with sex work, so if she needs to hear it, I’ll say it. I’ll say it a hundred times.

“I’ve never been so impressed with anyone,” I tell her.

Finally, her composure breaks. She lets out a snicker and shakes her head. “You liked watching me degrade myself for hundreds of men? You were impressed with how shamelessly I’ll whore myself out for their money? Please, Everett. You promised me you wouldn’t lie.”

She said “whore.” I don’t react at first.

When I kissed Cora in the elevator, lust practically shoved the words out of my mouth:No wonder they pay you for it. You’re worth every penny, aren’t you?

I had regretted them in the moment—figured I’d gone too far—until she kissed me even harder.

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