Page 38 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

Just as I’m about to drift off to thoughts of a certain handsome face between my thighs, my phone vibrates. Thinking it might be Brody again, I shake myself awake and reach for the device on my bedside table.

The notification is a direct message on Twitter. Frowning, I open the app. The sender is a creator I’ve been following for months, since discovering him through another creator we’ve both worked with.

Lance Kixxx has been aroundlonger than I have with hundreds of videos under his belt. Of fucking course I want to work with him! It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot. And hung. And tall. And tattooed–literally covered, save for his face and a few spots on his legs.

Fuck now I’ll never get to sleep.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Tomorrow? Yes!

“I’m only allowing you coffee access if you tell me about your date last night.”

Natalie is standing in front of the drip coffee maker when I walk out into the kitchen the next morning. How long has she been waiting there like that?

“He was really nice,” I say weakly, but her face breaks out into a grin.

“Define nice.” She grabs my arm to steer me toward the couch and away from the precious caffeine.

We fall onto the huge sectional and I set my feet on the table, prepared to sit here for the long haul.

“It was so easy to talk to him.” I’m still surprised by it, actually. “He was flirty, but not too forward and-and, he didn’t even try to come home with me.” I say the last detail with a grin and look over at Natalie who sits up a little straighter.

“Wait, hedidn’ttry to get in your pants?”

“Nuh-uh, and the kiss was sort of innocent.” I’m not sure if that’s the right word.

“What does that mean?”

“No tongue.” I shrug. “Not even a hint.

“But the kiss was hotanyway?”

“Look, I can’t explain it. But he was so worried about me getting home safely and not at all angry that it took me so long to respond. A lack of tongue isn’t really a red flag.”

“Sophie, you’re a fucking porn star and you just went on a date with someone who didn’t want to fuck your brains out.”

“Who’s to say he wasn’t just being a gentleman?”

“He’s a man. If he was a masc lesbian, then I’d say he was being a gentleman.”

I snort.

“Nat, I’ve gotta have coffee and then get ready. We can break this down more later. Really get into the psychology of it all.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes and lets go of my arm so I can stand. “Themomentyou’re done filming, we’re talking. I want to know more about this Brody if he’s going to date my daughter.”

It doesn’t take me long to prepare, going through the motions like anyone else would prepare for a day at the office. Except my typical day includes wearing very little clothing–possiblynoclothing–and sex.

“I’m headed out for a wax, but I’ll make sure to be quiet when I get home.” The unmistakable jangling of keys echoes through the apartment just before Natalie’s footsteps sound on the stairs.

Today’s makeup style is going to have to be girl-next-door. I don’t have the energy for vivacious vixen. Once I’m finished, I run my hand through my hair one last time, separating some of the soft curls that have clumped together. I’m wearing a tank top and pajama shorts but nothing underneath, assuming Lance and I can discuss costumes when he arrives.

I hate choosing outfits for scenes and broadcasts. It has always felt odd to me to put something on, only to take it off within minutes. Photoshoots are the only time where I feel it makes sense.

There it is again–the anxiety. My hands tremble just enough for me to notice. There’s a fluttering in my chest that I now associate only with moments like these. I focus on the next steps.

The bed in the studio is made. Our rule is that used sheets are to be removed and washed, then replaced quickly so that the next person doesn’t have to wait. It’s a system that has worked for us so far.

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