Page 20 of Masks and Mishaps

“That’s simply not a verb,” Lander interjects.

“Can we focus?” I question, clapping my hands together loudly enough to make them flinch. “Let’s finish talking about how I made my camboy debut with one of our best friends. After that, you two can go beat off to topographical features and parts of speech or whatever.” I slump back on the couch. “How screwed am I?”

“It’s notthatbad,” Everett offers, reaching over to pet Pierre, who always gravitates toward him. “You were wearing masks, neither of you said each other’s names, and it was dark.”

“That’s not the problem. I don’t care if anyone sees me.”

“Well, that’s good then,” he mentions, nodding.

“I don’t care because I lookamazing,” I continue. “Objectively mouthwatering. Why would I care?”

“Sure, sure,” Everett agrees, nodding harder.

“Frankly, I should have cammed sooner. Did you see how the camera loves me? I’m like—”

“We get it,” Everett interrupts, bringing his supportive nods to an abrupt halt. “You like showing cock. You know how special that makes you in this friend group?Literally not at all.”

“Yeah, fair,” I concede.

Everett raises his brow. “If you’re fine with baring it all, what’s the problem beyond the obvious mistake of railing a girl whose future kids are going to have the same grandparents as yours one day?”

“I didn’t…” I trail off. The lump in my throat hasn’t subsided since last night, and it’s difficult to swallow. I close my eyes, steadying myself before I say, “I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Like this.

The first time I saw Essie Romero, she was stuffing herself with a dildo while Valeria and Cora played with her boobs. It was a stream, which I’d come across via Lander, who sent me a link when he discovered the hot girl next door was actually a hotcamgirlnext door. Like any supportive friend, I wanted to vet Valeria and make sure she was right for my lifelong best friend/basically brother.

I’m lying. It was the tits.

But the link he sent was one of Valeria’s monthly collaborations with her two best friends, and I saw Essie—Emerald X—for the first time.

It was all over for me the moment I laid eyes on her.

It was more than the plumpest pair of red lips I’d ever seen, or her perfect, round breasts with those cute, puffy nipples. It was more than the landing strip of light brown hair on her glistening wet pussy.

Really, it was the way she moaned.

I wouldn’t trade my dick for anything, but I know it’s not for everyone. I’ve made enough women uncomfortable and even had a few reconsider me once they saw my size. But there was Essie with her legs spread and her hand nearly blurry while she worked herself with a humongous, flesh colored toy. She was moaning like it was transcendent.

Deep down, in a hard-learned way, I knew she wasn’t faking. Emerald X—Essie—loved that big shit.

From then on, I watched every week and tipped her like I was trying to become a majority shareholder. And months later, when Lander asked me to be his wingman, there was Essie—in a bar, of all places.

People always say, “Don’t meet your heroes,” but I met mine—and she was better than I imagined. She looked up at me, I looked down at her, and we smiled at each other.

Right then, experiencing a foreign feeling of astonishment, I knew I was in love with her.

Now, I breathe out slowly. “I thought the first time I slept with Essie would be different. I thought…. Guys, she didn’t even know it was me.”

Lander and Everett are both quiet in response.

I didn’t get to kiss her. I didn’t get to taste her. I didn’t get to gaze into her eyes while she came on me. I didn’t get to hold her afterwards. I didn’t get to tuck her in and fall asleep around her.

Silence unnerves me, and my friends know it, so when I shoot a pleading look at Lander, he immediately says, “I mean, look on the bright side. You two finally did it. And hey, if I’m being honest, I logistically didn’t think you guys could have sex since you’re practically a different species.” He holds up both hands. “But that was a misassumption, and that’s on me.”

From the opposite end of the couch, Everett releases one of his trademark heavy sighs. “Alright, so what outcome do you want?”

“In a perfect world, I’m not a hot mess, Essie doesn’t work at my bank, and the first time our parents ever meet is atourengagement dinner.”

---