Page 5 of Masks and Mishaps

“Terrified.”

“Right. So, when a woman fucks the masked man instead of punching him in the nuts and calling the police, she’s showing that her fear is a less powerful response.”

Alec’s face is compressed into a tight frown. “Less powerful than what?”

“Than her desire to fuck and to be fucked. It’s psychological. A man in a mask is a cock and a body. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t offer an emotional connection. It’s about sex and nothing else. For the person taking him, it’s about willing vulnerability. She doesn’t have to make decisions or give parts of herself beyond her body. All she has to do is fuck.”

“You know all that?”

I raise a shoulder. Planning out my content has always been my MO, and Valeria and Cora can attest to how much this strategy has helped them too. Anyone can perform on camera; not everyone canentertainwhile performing—a distinction I’ve always made as a camgirl.

Alec winging his streams is borderline obnoxious.

Breathing out, I resolve to stay positive.I’m completely fine. “Trust me: This stream is going to do numbers. We’re hitting tons of trending kinks. Too bad you don’t have any tattoos though…maybe you could get a temporary one?”

“I guess I can try.” Alec cants his head and takes me in, parsing me in a decidedly nonsexual way. “You’re all about the numbers, but doesn’t that take the fun out of it?”

“What’s not fun about getting more tips?”

He lifts his hand and tugs on the back of his neck, massaging it. Two feet separate us, and if this weren’t a sex worker’s version of a business meeting, I’d feel awkward.

“Well,” I say, hopping up from the bed. “Thanks for sending your test results. No need to bring condoms, but you’re going to—”

“Pull out, yeah,” he confirms while he looks at his phone, “and finish on your tits.”

The big finale. Yay.

Alec follows me through Cora’s living room, and I’m glad to be done. Now that we’ve spent more time together, I realize our chemistry isn’t what I thought it would be. Luckily, I don’t have to like him; I just have to screw him.

I’m completely fine.

But when I open the front door to walk Alec out, I’m no longer fine. Dalton is standing in the hallway, eyes locked on me.

He’s been waiting.

Three

ESSIE

Intheelevator,Alecdrums his fingertips on his thighs while he releases a guttural but languid exhalation. He tosses his floppy blond hair and looks over my head at Dalton, who’s standing close enough for me to feel his arm muscles tense when Alec moves. “So,” he comments, “where’s your parents’ wedding happening?”

Wrong question.

Dalton’s expression tightens, and he fires a Kevlar-melting look in Alec’s direction. “Why the fuck would I tell you about my mother’s wedding? I don’t even know you.”

“Dalton,” I chide, but he’s already turning toward Alec.

“Let me be clear,” he begins, leveling him with a glare. “I don’t know what you two just did, but I don’t approve…unless you were curing cancer. That’s fine.”

“Dalton,” I murmur again.

“But seeing as you’re wearing skinny jeans,” he continues, looking down at Alec’s pants, “which…I’ll be straight: They’re not working for you.” He holds up both hands. “Just my opinion.”

“Okay…” Alec’s brow is tight.

“But seeing as you’re wearing skinny jeans,” Dalton goes on, “I’m assuming you’re not a cancer doctor.”

“An oncologist,” I mumble.

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