Page 14 of Your Only Fan
Ezra
Iplace my hand on the guy’s waist and press it down, admiring the scatter of dove silhouettes tattooed across his back, starting small at the tailbone and growing larger and more magnificent the further up.
I reach my other hand between his legs and take his length, pulling it back over his taut nutsack.
The man’s body is gorgeous. Or at least as much as I’m able to see. Frankly, I was picturing a big, ugly guy with hair all over so walking into the room to find someone young, lithe, and dark was quite the pleasant surprise.
And as such this session is going a lot better than I thought it would.
The only disappointment is the hood. I knew he didn’t want to show his face on camera, but I hoped to at least see him before we started filming. But I guess what he told me when he messaged me was true. He doesn’t want to show his face.
I don’t usually mind. It happens often that guys don’t want their faces online taking my dick, but I was hoping I could at least see CumJunkie’s face. He’s been a fan for so long and so supportive that it sucks that he wants to remain anonymous.
“It-it’s fine,” he says and tries to push my hand off his dick.
It’s obvious he’s trying to change his voice. Jeez. Paranoid much?
“What are you talking about? You don’t want to come?” I ask.
The guy turns around. His hood has got three zips. Two over the eyes that are shut. And one over the mouth, which is open.
“I know you don’t do that sort of thing,” he says in a deeper register.
“Do what sort of thing? Please my bottoms?” I say.
It’s frustrating, but more than that, I’m a bit hurt that he, my number one fan, would think I’m so selfish and detached that I wouldn’t spend two minutes giving someone the release they gave me.
“Yeah.” CumJunkie drags his word and shrugs at the same time.
I have no idea if he can see me through that thing or not, but I give him an evil glare, anyway.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I always help my bottoms. I might not put it on the page, but that doesn’t mean I don’t do it. It just means my fans want to come seeing me come and stop watching after that,” I say.
I’ve been doing this for a while now and the analytics have shown me time and time again that as soon as I come my fans close the video.
I shouldn’t need to explain myself or work this hard to do something nice for someone else. If this guy hadn’t spent so much on my underwear, I’d walk out of here, but he’s my best customer.
“Oh,” he says.
“Oh, indeed.”
“Sorry. I… I didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”
He lies on his back, and I help him lift a leg to the other side so I’m between them. He’s not toned, but he still looks attractive. His stomach is a little curved, but I could trace a six-pack if I wanted to, and he barely has any chest hair. The ones he does have are cute little twirly things that make me want to run a tongue across them.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says.
My lips quirk to the side, and I try to forget his assumption. He really does sound apologetic, and he’s hot, so I just focus on that.
I extend a hand to my side, pointing my cubic camera toward me. I put my other hand to his chest and bend down to lick those hairs and his nipples, and I see the smooth skin underneath me change texture from the effect.
“It’s okay, handsome,” I mumble, moving my lips across his stomach until I get to his groin and his cock bounces on my chin, getting hard again.
His pubes are rough and wild like those on his chest and smell of vanilla. His whole body smells beautifully like that, and I get hard again imagining him lathering himself with the lotion in preparation for me.
I press my nose against him and inhale his scent before I move to the task at hand. His gorgeous cock.
It’s long and cut, and his crown is bright pink, wet with precum.
