Page 41 of Your Only Fan
“Baby. Baby. Baby,” I say over and over and over again until I feel his jizz shower my stomach and chest.
I collapse next to him and close my eyes for a second. Somehow this guy has a way of bringing the best orgasms out of me every. Single. Time.
“That was…” I exhale.
“Breathtaking?” X says and runs a finger along my abs, scooping up his cum and bringing it up to my lips.
“You should rename yourself TastyJunkie,” I tell him, licking his slick.
“I’ll consider it.” He laughs.
He lies back down and I follow his movement. I spot my camera next to him.
“You forgot to film the close-ups,” he says, following my gaze.
I look up and shrug.
“We can do that later,” I say. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere. Am I?”
X shrugs, too. “Not if I’ve got anything to do with it.”
I smile and drop my head back to the pillow.
It’s easy being with X, and I like it. He’s not demanding, he’s not bitchy, or an attention whore. He’s needy when he needs to be, but all other times he’s happy to go with the flow.
At this point, he’s the only guy I see, and as much as there are some fans who complain about my repeats, the vast majority wants more of him and are happy to pay for it.
Although most importantly, I find it relaxing being with him. It almost feels like a relationship.
You know, if it weren’t for the whole anonymity and hood thing.
But I’m over it at this point. Not that I wouldn’t like to see who is under that mask, but I don’t mind it as much anymore. If he wants to remain anonymous, he must have a good reason.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“I’m okay,” I yawn. “Maybe later.”
X turns his body toward mine and holds his head in his hand, watching me.
“You look tired. Have a rest. I can wake you up later,” he says.
He never does. He always lets me nap and wake on my own time, but he always offers the same words.
It’s sweet in its own way, and what’s even better is the fact that I can actually get some rest in his bed. I’ve always had trouble sleeping in beds that weren’t my own, but there’s something about X’s that’s like a lullaby to my heart and nerves.
His whole house feels like a shelter. When I’m with him, I forget that I’m a porn star and feel like a man. Nothing wrong with either, but… it’s just something I haven’t felt in a while. Since before my YourFan page took off.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.
I turn back to him and take a breath.
“Nothing. I-I was just thinking how nice you make me feel,” I say because I’m not one to keep my thoughts to myself. Not usually, anyway.
His lips curve up and disappear behind the zipper, but I can tell his smile is huge.
“Careful, Mr. Dixon. Don’t go making me crush on you any harder,” he says, resting his hand on my chest.
“It’s true. You feel… like a friend. It’s nice.”
