Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Definitely Viral
IRINA
“Honey, I’m home!” Kat called out sharply.
“Shit!” Gus hissed, leaping away from me, my arousal dripping from his chin. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he frantically searched for his underwear. “You said your housemate wasn’t going to be home!”
“Are you home early? I thought you were working a double shift!” I called out, panting because I’d been so fucking close to orgasm I could almost taste it in the back of my throat.
I barely registered her response because Gus grunted, knocking over the tripod that had been recording what was hopefully going to be my first ever Tickle post.
“Oh God.” I jumped to my feet, throwing Gus’s shorts at him while I snapped my phone out of the tripod and quickly shoved it under the lounge as Gus disappeared down the hallway.
I was still naked, and the mess he’d made of me with his tongue was dripping down my legs. Not to mention the oil on my skin from the sexy massage we’d started out with.
“Hi there!” Kat’s amused voice rang out from the hallway. I winced as Gus called out an awkward, “See you at training tomorrow, Irina!” before the front door creaked open and closed again.
I quickly pulled on my lacy knickers, grabbing the matching bra from the back of the lounge as Kat appeared at the end of the hallway, her eyes questioning.
“He couldn’t have gotten out of here fast enough!”
I sighed. “He only came over because I promised him no one would find out.” I turned from her so she wouldn’t realise how much I was keeping from her. I was not ready to tell her about Tickle, yet. Not when I hadn’t even finished filming my first post.
“Why the hell are you involving yourself with guys who want you to be a secret?” Kat demanded from right behind me. I opened the fridge door, like I could use it as a barrier.
“It isn’t like that. I’m not involved with him. I mean, I’m more than happy to fuck him, he’s utterly stunning. And his tongue, Kat!” At least that part was the truth. Gus gave great head.
“So, why does it need to be a big secret then? Jesus, Ri, he’s not cheating on someone with you, is he?”
“Do you really think I’d do that?” I demanded, slamming the fridge.
“Well then, what the fuck are you doing that needs to be so clandestine?” Kat hissed. I wilted under the intensity of her stare, pushing past her out of the narrow galley kitchen.
“My visa officially expired today.”
I stepped out of the shower, finally no longer slippery, feeling lighter than I had in a while after confessing some of what was going on in my life to Kat.
I’d stopped short of explaining about Tickle—she did not need to know that I’d been filming spicy content for an adults-only app in our living room.
My phone pinged on the bathroom counter.
Gus: I can’t do it
Gus: Sorry Ri
I stared at the screen, not quite computing the words.
Ri: Can’t do what?
Ri:
Gus: The collab post
Gus: I can’t show my face on Tickle
Gus: If Lincoln finds out …
Gus: I work with kids!
Ignoring the sudden tightening in my chest, I swiped and tapped madly.
Ri: I’ve deleted it
Gus: U the best! Still happy to hook up off camera, btw
Gus: Pretty sure I owe you two Os now …
I tried to smile at that as I put my phone down and squeezed the water out of my thick hair. My lightness from a moment ago was rapidly deflating.
It’s okay, I told myself firmly. You can do this on your own. You can make money from this on your own.
I slathered moisturiser over my face, ran a comb through my wet hair and headed for the door.
“Holy shit!” I squawked when I almost collided with Kat. “Are you … what are you doing, lurking outside the bathroom door? You know I’ll let you perve on me anytime.” I started to untuck the towel from around my chest. With a giggle, Kat stilled my hand.
“Are you sure everything is okay, Ri?” she asked gently. “I … I feel like I’ve been a bit absent, lately, with Mum showing up, and this whole thing with Sir Daddy Dom … and I’ve not been the best bestie when you’re going through some major stuff too.”
“I promise, it’s all completely under control.” I sounded snarky, but I didn’t need her worrying about this. And I sure as hell didn’t want her to know how I was planning to make money. What if it all went to shit? My strategy to earn money from Tickle had just texted me to chicken out on our deal.
“See, your mouth is saying those words, but your face is telling a whole other story,” Kat said, poking me between my eyebrows where I was probably frowning.
“I don’t want you worrying about me,” I mumbled, squeezing past her and heading to my bedroom.
She followed me in, just as I’d known she would. “But that’s what best friends do.” She sat down on the edge of my bed as I tugged a pair of underpants and a sleep tank out of my drawer and let my towel drop to the floor.
“You know,” Kat began tentatively, and when I turned back to her, dressed now, she was tracing patterns in my bedspread.
“If you ever needed to vent to someone, about what things are like, back home, I’m always here.
” Her eyes flicked up, meeting mine, and the earnest sadness in them almost broke me.
“I promise I’m not going to judge. And I don’t think you should have to carry that burden alone, you know? ”
I flopped onto the bed beside her. “My lovely, sweetest and most precious friend,” I mumbled roughly, dragging her closer and wrapping my arms around her. “If I actually wanted to talk about that dracului de cosmar place with anyone, it would be you.”
“I know,” she whispered against my hair. “But … I’m scared for you, Ri.” She pulled back, swiping at her damp cheeks, then at mine. “This could go so badly for you, if you get caught.”
“So … I just won’t get caught! Simple.”
“And … the offer is always there. I know that Sophia would love to have you at the Taverna, and she’d totally pay you on the DL … plus you’d scare the shit out of Chris, which would just be icing on the cake of getting to work with you.”
I smiled, sitting up. “I’ll keep that on my mind.”
Kat’s gurgling laughter shook the bed. “Keep that in mind. And I should know by now that you’re too stubborn and fiercely independent to take me up on it.
” She clambered off the bed, heading for the door.
“Just promise me you’ll be smart about this.
I want you to stay as much as you want it, and the thought of you being deported … well, let’s not think about that.”
“Yes. Let’s not.”
Kat’s smile was tight, and I knew she knew I was deflecting. “I’m beat, and I’ve got another breakfast shift tomorrow morning. Your tits look hot in that top, by the way.”
I glanced down. My nipples were firm against the ribbed fabric of the tank, and the shadow of the areolas was visible through the thin material.
Which immediately gave me an idea. I picked up my phone … and retrieved a certain Nikolai …
I waited until Kat had left for work on Sunday morning to check my Tickle account. My fingers shook as I navigated to the app. My jaw hit the floor at the sight of the notification icon, which read ‘99+’ in a little hot pink circle beside it.
“Holy … what in the fuck?”
I dropped my phone on the kitchen counter and backed away, hands raking through my tangled hair. This couldn’t be … this was not normal. Was it? Gus had said that it had taken him months to see any sort of engagement.
I approached the phone again like it was a wild animal. Because whatever beast had overtaken Tickle last night had done something insane.
I glanced at it again. Nope. I hadn’t imagined it. “Three hundred thousand likes?” I gasped. “That’s …”
And it wasn’t just the likes. It was the thousands of comments … and DMs …
And the ten thousand new followers.
How was this real? I’d hastily filmed my half-baked idea last night before I’d had a chance to think twice and second guess myself. I’d posted the raw, unedited footage before I could chicken out. And I’d put my phone down and refused to look at it until now.
I scrolled through the comments, fingertips numb.
WLW_Fanatic: Girl! Hottest orgasm face!
Cumlikeafountain: Currently masturbating while picturing you in my bed looking at me like that. Immediate follow!
Porky.Pie.3000: Hot tits? Giant vibrating dildo? Eye contact when coming? I didn’t even need to see pussy to get off to this! More please!
Yeti_Spaghetti: Anyone else feel like they could happily watch this chick doing something mundane like, I dunno, painting her toenails while she just talks? Sans bra of course, because those knockers …
Was I expected to reply to all these comments? Because that would take me days! Ten thousand followers … that seemed insanely high, even if my post had gone viral. I checked the views.
Three million.
Yep. Definitely viral.
“O Doamne!” I sucked in one breath. And then another.
And another. Collapsing back onto the lounge, I rubbed my forehead.
How much money from the creator fund had this one video just netted me?
The whole system was confusing, but it seemed to me that subscriber fees were divvied up based on engagement, minutes watched, number of followers, and I thought I’d read something about being able to earn extra by doing follower-only content.
Shit. I needed to leverage this viral post! I needed to keep momentum, because holy shit … this whole Tickle thing might actually be a way for me to fund myself while living outside of the law …
Which meant I needed to come up with some sort of content strategy.
If only I’d done a marketing degree instead of sports science … because I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and who knew if I’d be lucky enough to go viral again?
Well, first thing’s first—that one guy who suggested painting my nails and chatting … I could do that! I could even give the infamous semi-see-through sleep tank an encore performance, with some lacy knickers.
Today’s content sorted.
But maybe the comments section would come up with some more inspiration. I left my phone on the lounge and made myself a quick coffee before settling back in to trawl through the thousands of thirsty remarks, looking for something that would work.
Iggy.Cock: Intrigued by the titillation here! Makes me even keener to see what she’s rocking downstairs. Something tells me she’s a pierced clit kinda girl …
No …
I couldn’t …
Could I?
“La naiba asta doare!” I hissed, struggling against the urge to snap my legs shut on the piercer as she dragged the jewellery back through the giant fucking hole she’d just made in my clit. I distracted myself by focusing on my phone camera, which was trained on my face.
“For those of you watching at home, that means that fucking hurt!”
Claire, the piercer I’d found after a very thorough Google search of best places to get your clit pierced in Sydney, chuckled, adjusting the new bar jewellery, making me wince again. She sprayed some aftercare product on and patted me on the knee.
“Let’s give your audience a proper tour of your new hardware, shall we?” Claire plucked her phone from the tripod where she’d been filming the very-much-not-safe-for-work version and zoomed in on my throbbing (but not for good reasons) clit.
“If I do say so myself, that’s one of the tidiest vertical clit hood piercings I’ve ever done. You have the perfect hood for it, and the swelling so far is pretty minor!”
“Tell that to the shooting pains!” I complained. She laughed again.
“Well, I did tell you that it wouldn’t tickle, didn’t I?” She turned the phone to herself and winked exaggeratedly, before flashing a peace sign and ending the recording.
“Want me to airdrop that to you?”
“Sure, but can I put some pants on first? I feel like every tiny breeze is a fire!”
“Yeah, well your underwear is gonna feel uncomfy for a couple of days, but after that, you should be much less sore. Pain relief will help tonight.” She went through the dos and don’ts of aftercare, and I nodded along until she got to, “And no swimming for six weeks.”
“Wait. What?” I demanded. “Not even in chlorine?”
Claire shook her head. “Chlorine water can be very irritating. And we don’t want that, do we?”
I shook my head, mutely handing over a wad of cash.