Page 7 of Bad at Love

The videos they pay for are good; I make sure of it. They get what they pay for—that’s important to me. I want my subs happy and coming back… and also just coming. Everyone deserves orgasms. I jerk myself faster, knowing any second I’m going to unload all over these underwear.

A low groan of satisfaction leaves me, along with a curse, when I fall over the cliff. My eyes fall closed, but I snap them open to make sure I’m recording the right angles. Thankfully, I am, and I catch every rope of cum landing on the black briefs and even what overshoots and lands on the comforter. I work myself through my orgasm and squeeze out the last drops of cum that I wipe on the underwear. I keep recording as I smear the rest of the cum in. When I’m done, I clean myself up, get dressed, and send the video to my email so I can edit it later.

Since I have two of the same order, I won’t have to make the content again, I’ll just jerk off on the underwear and send them a different version of the video I just recorded. The thing about doing this kind of work is being smart about your time. I can’t be locked away all day just jerking off. That would get tiring. Which is why I put limits on myself.

Even though I don’t make content as frequently as some of the other big creators, I make just as much, if not more, money than them because of what I offer. I take requests for free from fans. They want something specific? I deliver. I do a monthly giveaway that allows three different winners to choose what I do for bonus content—and they get it for free. Interacting with them is what makes me my money, so I do that as often as I can. Not to everyone, but to enough people that they know there’s a chance they could be next. They’re engaged and wanting more.

I have a big mix of fans. All genders, many ages. Single. Married. Poly. I’ve seen it all. The only thing I care about when it comes to my work is that they don’t fuck with me in real life. I have shown my face in videos, but I try to avoid it. So they could find me, but it hasn’t been an issue yet.

I’ve done adult content for a long time and didn’t always make a big deal about not showing my face. Years ago, I was up in front of the camera with no shame. But since then, I’ve grown up and bulked up. Which keeps them all guessing. That’s cool. They can guess and wonder and talk about me all they want. Just don’t come knocking on my door.

I fold the underwear and put them back in my suitcase before wiping up the cum that made it to the sheets. I’ll have to package them up and mail them out by tomorrow morning if I don’t want to be late. Editing the video will have to be done tonight to make sure their videos get emailed to them on time too. For now, I need to go see my mother.

Chapter Five

Gabriel

Marta is eating her lunch when I find her at the table in the back corner. She takes a large bite of her sandwich that’s stuffed with lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and meat that looks like turkey but could be something else.

“I don’t know about this guy,” I say as I drop into the booth across from her.

She glares, pausing mid chew, which makes her look kind of scary.

Yeah, Pit Bull indeed.

And here I am like a naked cat, shaking in my furless skin.

“What did he do this time?” she questions in that tone that tells me she’s sick of my crap. I know that because she’s told me so.

I hold her gaze, itching to tell her what’s bothering me, but she’s just going to tear it apart. Still, I need to let it out, and she’s the only person I trust.

“He offered to pay me more money,” I blurt out.

“Give me your phone.” She offers out her hand calmly and I lean away, putting my hand on my phone that’s inside my pocket, as if she could get to it from where she is.

“What? Why?”

She smiles, but it is not nice. Her demeanor is still calm, though. “Gabriel, hand me your phone. Right. Now.”

I gulp and hand it over. She yanks it from my hold, chewing her food as she does… whatever it is she’s doing.

My skin grows hot. There’s nothing on my phone I’m worried about her seeing. I don’t take naked photos of myself and I’m not into weird porn. But she could be… talking to people and making them think it’s me. I don’t want that.

“Marta—”

She holds up a hand and I snap my mouth shut. I have a feeling I know what she’s doing and maybe it’s better off this way. Or maybe I’ll end up being Storm’s meat suit. Or worse—with my ass in the toilet water. Guess only time will tell.

She hands me my phone back after locking it and she smiles mockingly.

“He will be at your house at ten o’clock in the morning on Saturday.” I open my mouth, but again, there goes that hand and, like magic, my mouth closes. “I told him it was the only time you had available, so if he wanted the place, he had to make it work. You better not, and I mean better not, do anything to compromise that. Do you understand me?”

I nod as my mouth goes dry.

She points a finger at me. “I’m not kidding, Gabriel Dane. This is for your own good. I swear, one day you will thank me.”

She gets up, grabs her empty food tray, and walks away.

“Yeah, from my grave!” I call after her.

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