75. Chapter 73
Emery
YourDadsBestFriend: You look sad tonight. Anything we can help with?
shesgotdaddyissues: Did you not do well on your test today? You studied so hard!
YourDadsBestFriend: @shesgotdaddyissues no, I have no doubt she did amazing on that! It must be something else.
ConstructionDaddy: Are you sick, little one? Is that what’s got you down?
shesgotdaddyissues: @YourDadsBestFriend exactly! I believe in our girl, but sometimes tests can get the better of us.
More messages from my regular watchers come through among the You’re so beautiful comments and the comments letting me know they sent me a DM, but the one username I equally do and don’t want to see is absent.
“My test was fine. Actually, I finished with twelve minutes to spare. The results should be coming out in about fifteen minutes,” I partially answer, hoping they drop their concern if I divert them.
shesgotdaddyissues: How are they graded so quickly? I used to have to wait an entire week or more to get results.
“The test was done on our laptops. We have special software installed that locks the screens so we can’t go searching for the answers, unless it’s an open-book.
And with it being multiple choice only, the software determines the results based on the answers supplied by the person who set up the test,” I explain, because, yes, I did go down a rabbit hole, wondering how it worked.
I’ve worked way too hard to get to where I am to let some asshole ruin it for me by cheating on a test that could have been done on paper.
YourDadsBestFriend: So if it’s not test related, what’s wrong, baby? Something has definitely gotten you down.
I heave a sigh, my diversion clearly not having worked, and readjust on my bed so that I’m lying on my side, my head in the palm of my hand. “It’s boy drama.”
Boy drama was probably downplaying it. More like man chaos.
I don’t think I have ever gotten back to my dorm faster than I did after leaving Hudson’s office, the notebook burning in my palms as I raced across campus so that I could read his reply in the privacy of my room.
I don’t know what exactly I was expecting, but getting a summary of his life wasn’t it.
He’d introduced me to his family, told me about his career and life, how he’d left the world of investment portfolio management to come and teach.
Though my focus is on becoming an accountant, I know a little bit about the world he is from, and holy shit, no wonder he can afford to shower me with gifts.
It makes me wonder if he still dabbles a little and if he manages portfolios for the other three. It would make sense. Professors are paid pretty decently, but not enough to drop tens of thousands of dollars on a sugar baby.
My favorite part was when he’d told me about discovering he was kinky.
As for my kinky side, I learned that little detail about myself while I was in college.
A girl I’d been dating for a few weeks invited me to a party she was going to.
I vaguely remember her saying something about it being a wild party scene, that I needed to keep my mind open, and that I should have as much fun as I wanted because she was going to.
Being a nerdy twenty-year-old, with exactly one ex-girlfriend who I barely made it to third base with, who up until that point hadn’t really been exposed to anything other than a very vanilla lifestyle and spent most of his life buried in textbooks, I assumed it meant that people were going to get drunk and the music was going to be loud. Maybe some drugs.
The only thing I’d been right about was that the music was very loud.
She took me to a swingers party in a rented mansion.
There were hundreds of semi and completely naked bodies from the moment we walked in.
Everywhere I looked, there were barely dressed people standing around, having conversations, and right there, by the front door, was a woman being fucked against the wall by one man as another kissed her.
The memories of how my girlfriend got me from the front door, stripped me down to my underwear, and deeper into the house are still hazy to this day.
The one thing that I remember with crystal clarity is when we made it to what was presumably the sitting room.
We went over to a group of people my girlfriend knew, and I positioned myself with my back to the wall, hugging her to my chest as she chatted, allowing me to scan the room, which was fuller than I would have expected.
My gaze eventually landed on a group of people standing around, water bottles in hand.
The man leading the conversation had a woman with bright pink hair kneeling on the floor in front of him, pants undone enough to have his cock buried deeply in her mouth as he spoke, gesturing about, making his friends laugh, before taking a drink of water.
Every now and then, he would reach down and stroke her hair or thrust in and out of her mouth, but she would remain perfectly still.
Nothing, in my entire life, had ever gotten me as hard as that did.
My girlfriend eventually started hooking up with one of the other women in the group, and while it was hot to watch, it was nothing like watching that man and woman.
The fact that I also felt no jealousy over my girlfriend eventually moving on to one of her male friends sent up a few more red flags that I wasn’t experiencing monogamy correctly.
The man must have caught me staring at some point, because when I went to get myself a drink, he found me at the impromptu bar. He looked as though he was in his early thirties, and after he ordered himself a drink, he asked me if I’d liked the look of his cockwarmer.
I stumbled some sort of response out, not sure if I’d broken a rule due to my staring, but he just smiled and explained that she was his cockwarmer for the night.
With our drinks in hand, he pointed her out to me again and said that it was her birthday and he’d brought her here to share with his friends, and there she was, in the same position, mouth wrapped around one of the other men’s cocks.
Not even ten minutes later, those lips were wrapped around my cock while I did my best to talk about my combined degree, with plans for post-graduate studies. He didn’t have to convince me to share his girlfriend, I was all in from the moment he asked.
I’m still not sure what I managed to speak about, I could have just been making noises for all I know.
Eventually the cockwarmer was given permission to actively suck our cocks, and if I hadn’t been having such a strong kinkawakening, I would probably have been embarrassed about how quickly I blew my load.
My search history for the next few weeks was very interesting.
Just reading about his experience had heat pooling in my core.
Thinking about Hudson and how he would have felt while discovering this about himself for the first time and then thinking about the woman on her knees, mouth open wide, no other purpose in life for that brief period of time but to warm cocks.
It sounded so fucking hot.
But why the hell would he share all of that with me, only to say goodbye to me this afternoon like it was forever? I’ve been ping-ponging from that goodbye to the clothes in the apartment and feeling things inside of me breaking apart with every bounce.
And signing off with my name for him? How the fuck had he even known that?
Is this some daddy dom mind-reader crap?
I’m so glad I waited until I made it to my room to read his note, rather than ducking into an empty classroom or bathroom to read it.
I didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or disassociate when I finished reading it.
Honestly, I’m so fucking confused by all my kink-people interactions in the last twenty-four hours.
I thought I had everything worked out, but now I really don’t think that I have anything worked out at all.
And the lack of certainty has made a little flame of hope flicker to life, which is fucking terrifying.
Once I’d partially recovered from that, I checked my phone and saw messages from Will and one message from Xavier.
Will: Hey Emz, sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk today. We had pledge stuff to do before the test.
Will: How do you think you did on the test? I was done about five minutes after you and I think I did okay, definitely got stuck on a few, though.
Will: Also, I was wondering if you might like to get coffee with me tomorrow morning?
Will: It doesn’t have to be coffee. Hot chocolate or tea, whatever you prefer.
Will: ha, sorry. But yeah. A drink of your choice before class tomorrow?
Knowing he was likely all embarrassed and squirming as he sent those messages drew a smile out of me.
I responded to his questions and said yes to the coffee after a brief hesitation.
I reminded myself I’m giving him a real shot.
If he doesn’t ask me out on a proper date soon, I’ll ask him on one, finally kiss him, and see if there is anything between us on my end.
Whatever the result, I won’t lie to myself after that. Either I have feelings for the guy or I don’t.
Xavier’s message was…something. Both an up and a down? Maybe a double down. I’m still not sure.
Xavier: I’ll be gone for a few more days. Don’t let anyone else sleep on my side of your bed.
Just thinking about his stupid text makes me want to scoff again. His side of my bed. Jesus.
I didn’t bother replying to that.
The chat continues to do most of the work for me, trying to get me to open up about my man chaos, but I remain tight-lipped on the topic, instead talking about my day in general and answering questions that ask about anything else.
The alarm I set for checking my results goes off, and I quickly swipe it away. “Results time,” I tell the chat and turn back to my laptop to log in and get my results.
Just as the screen loads, I glance at the chat, and right there is the notification that EyesOnYou has joined. Fuck.
Hopefully they are just here to watch tonight.
My attention is drawn back to the laptop screen when the lighting changes, and I grin before spinning it to show the chat. “Ninety-three!”
Gifts roll in for a few minutes, as well as congratulation messages.
After my second public live, I realized that there is no stopping the gifts.
Most are pretty light—a SugarLife dollar for a daisy and two for a rose.
It’s when they start gifting things like cars, which is two hundred SugarLife dollars, or a freaking mansion, which is one thousand, that I get uncomfortable.
I’ve asked them not to gift, but that seems to be like waving a red flag at a bull.
The feed rolls up almost too fast to catch every notification, but that’s okay; I’m only watching for one username.
Except, I don’t see it again. They are definitely watching—I checked. They just aren’t talking to me.
Which is fine. Good, even. I could use a little space.
“Okay, I’m going to go get something to eat. Good night, everyone!”
I wave for a few seconds and then hit the end button, smiling until my screen goes completely dark.
Immediately, a notification pops up from SugarLife.
EyesOnYou: Congratulations on your test result. I’m proud of you. I hope you are proud of yourself too.