Chapter 4 Pleasure Peak
Pleasure Peak
? Deep - Kelsea Ballerini
Jaxon
Alley_Kat has requested a private chat.
My heart jolts. Even after all this time, she still affects me. I’ve imagined so many scenarios about who she could be, and what she might look like. I’ll sometimes catch myself scanning the crowd, wondering if she’s somewhere close by, but the odds of that happening must be astronomical.
We’ve been doing this back and forth for a year, and I still don’t know her real name; I still haven’t heard her voice. I’m painfully aware this could turn out to be some random dude living in his mom’s basement, but our interactions have always felt genuine.
I reposition my camera and make sure my bandana is secure before I start the feed.
It’s been weeks since our last conversation.
Despite the doubts nagging at the back of my mind, I missed her.
I told myself if she ever came back, I’d try to push the boundaries of whatever this thing is between us.
This might be my only chance, and I’m not going to let it slip through my fingers.
“Hey, Alley Kat. It’s been a while.”
Alley_Kat: Hey. Didn’t mean to ghost you. I got my dream job.
Alley_Kat: I had to find a new apartment and get moved in. It’s been a whirlwind.
I’m grateful for the mask so she can’t see my smile. I’m not too proud to admit that a small part of me, the jealous part, was worried she ghosted me because she’d found someone and no longer needed me to fulfill her desires.
“Congrats! Are we celebrating tonight?”
Alley_Kat: Abso-fucking-lutely
“Tell me what you want. Any special requests?”
Alley_Kat: You know what I like. Talk to me, Cowboy.
I slide farther down the sofa and slowly unbutton my jeans. Even thinking about her makes me hard. Maybe it’s the thrill of the unknown, but none of my other Passion Peak subscribers have ever made me feel this reckless.
I’m ready to throw caution to the wind and reveal who I am, consequences be damned. I’d do anything for a glimpse of her, but there’s a small part of me that worries she won’t be the woman I’ve been imagining in my mind.
I slip my hand under my waistband and pull out my stiff shaft, giving it a few rough tugs. The piercings slide along my palm, creating a delicious friction.
“I’m hard just thinking about you,” I murmur. “Are you wet for me, baby?”
Alley_Kat: Yes.
“Touch yourself.”
I’ve had a lot of requests since I started my account. Some of my subscribers like to tell me what to do, and others, like Kat, prefer the opposite. She has a thing for dirty talk.
I tried my best to avoid anything beyond surface-level connections, but she burrowed under my skin when I wasn’t looking.
Hell, I don’t even know what she looks like beyond the faceless mirror selfie she uses as a profile picture. If her photo is anything to go by, she’s all soft curves, and just the thought of those thick thighs wrapped around me has my dick standing at attention.
Alley_Kat: More.
Fuck me. What I wouldn’t give to hear her say that aloud. I’ve imagined her breathy sighs and cries of ecstasy too many times to count, but I’ve yet to earn the honor of hearing them for myself.
“Slip a finger inside that pretty pussy for me. Imagine it’s me touching you, stretching you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’d wrap my lips around your perfect pink nipples and suck on your tits until you’re begging for my cock.”
I lift my hips and slide my jeans and underwear down, giving her a better view of the action, then I spit into my hand and give my shaft a few more strokes. I lean my head back and groan as the muscles in my neck pull taut.
“Let me hear you, Alley Kat. Please." I wait for her to turn me down, but she doesn’t respond. "Please, baby. I’m aching for you.”
I’ve never begged a woman for anything in my entire life, but fuck if I wouldn’t get down on my knees just to hear her come apart for me.
Microphone enabled for Alley_Kat
“Talk to me, Cowboy.”
My pulse picks up. Not some dude in his basement after all. Thank fuck.
“Your voice is even more beautiful than I imagined.” It’s warm and melodic. I could listen to her talk for hours. “Are you still touching yourself?”
“Yeah,” she says breathlessly.
“That’s my girl. Tell me how much you want me. I want to hear you beg for it.”
“Please. I need you. Please make me come.”
“I know exactly what you need, and I’ll give it to you. But first, I want you to tell me exactly what you’re doing.”
She inhales a sharp breath.
“Don’t be shy,” I say, voice low and gravelly.
I can almost hear her writhing in the sheets. “I’m fucking myself with my fingers.”
“How many?”
“Three. Fuck.”
“That’s my girl. Stretch that pussy out. Get it ready to take every fucking inch of me.”
I speed up my strokes, bringing myself closer to the edge. “Does that feel good?”
“Yeah.” She whines the word like it’s taking everything she has to speak.
“Come with me, baby. Let me hear you.”
She moans. “Oh god. I’m so close.”
“That’s it. You’re taking me so well. Imagine my cock slipping inside of you, inch by inch, hitting you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow.”
Her heavy pants and quiet whimpers fill the quiet of my bedroom, and my mind automatically conjures up illicit images of her squirming beneath me.
“Oh fuck,” she whines. “I’m coming.”
My abs tighten as my release builds along my spine. She screams out her orgasm, and the intense cry triggers mine.
I groan as my cum spills over my hand and stomach. “Fuck, baby. You’re incredible. I think I might be addicted to your voice.”
She laughs, and it might be my new favorite sound. “That should be my line.”
“Will you stay for a while? Just to talk.”
I’m walking a dangerous path, but it’s the first time in years I’ve allowed myself to feel anything other than hollow, and I’m going to hold onto it while it lasts.
Her voice softens. “I’d like that.”
“I’m gonna turn off the camera so I can take off my mask. Don’t hang up.”
Callie
My stomach flutters in anticipation. I blow out a long, steadying breath and clean myself up before slipping on my favorite comfy two-piece pajamas. I glance at myself in the mirror, face flushed and hair mussed. If that man could see me, what would he think?
I grab my blanket off the back of the sofa and settle in front of my faux electric fireplace.
The apartment is small, but at least it’s a roof over my head.
Maybe someday I’ll have a cozy house with a real fireplace, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with all of my favorite books, and an oversized chair I can curl up in with a cup of hot tea. That’s the dream.
I set my phone on my lap and pull the blanket around my shoulders. “I’m back.”
“Me too. God, it’s good to hear your voice.” His smooth baritone settles deep in the pit of my stomach, setting off a riot of butterflies like it always does.
I was drawn to him from the first moment I saw his profile. I’d been searching for some way to explore my sexuality that would feel safe and secure; that’s how I found Pleasure Peak. I stopped looking after I discovered him, and he’s the only reason I keep coming back.
“Would it be weird if I said I missed you?” I ask.
“Fuck no. I missed you, too, Alley Kat.”
There’s a bittersweet dichotomy in the way he says my screen name. It’s close enough to my real name to make me feel wanted, but it keeps a barrier between us—one I’m aching to tear down.
“It’s strange. We hardly know each other, but sometimes, it feels like I’ve known you my whole life.”
Shut up, Callie. He’s going to think you’re a stalker or something.
“I wouldn’t say that. I know your favorite color is purple and you like to read historical romance. I know exactly what to say to get you off, and now I know what you sound like when you come, so I think that’s a good start.”
An unwelcome warmth spreads through my cheeks. “Oh my god. Do you have to say it like that?”
“What? Best sound I’ve ever heard. I wish I could record it and play it over and over again.”
I’m not certain I’m breathing anymore. How can this man turn me to mush with a few meager words?
I sigh. “If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna hang up on you.”
“Mmm, you’ve never complained about me being too vocal before.”
"You’re the worst."
“You like it.”
I do.
He’s too charming for his own good. If I weren’t paying him to talk to me, he probably wouldn’t be giving me the time of day.
He’s a work of art, literally. His body is a canvas of tattoos, an eclectic mix of designs all done in black ink. I’m itching to know what each one means, but it feels too personal to ask.
“You’re quiet tonight. Something on your mind?”
I could lie and say I’m fine, but whatever force is drawing us together compels me to tell the truth, so I do. “It’s my birthday.”
“What? Why didn’t you say anything? And why the hell are you spending it with me?”
I glance around at my paltry apartment with my thrifted, mismatched furniture and the sad-looking cupcake waiting for me in the box on the counter.
My voice cracks. “I don’t have anyone.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I brace myself for the inevitable rejection.
“You have me.” His voice is soft, almost tender. “For as long as you need me.”
My heart aches with longing.
Selfishly, I hope he means forever—that someday there won’t be this barrier between us. I know that’s ridiculous. Still, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming.
Emotions clog my throat, and a meager “thank you” is all the response I can muster.
Two weeks ago, Oak Ridge was a point on a map that I randomly landed on.
I’m still settling in, and that means I haven’t had time to get to know anyone.
I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember.
Whatever connections I’ve made along the way have always been temporary.
This mysterious cowboy has been the only constant in my life for the last year, and our connection is tenuous at best.
“If you could have anything for your birthday, what would it be?”
“I always wanted a cat.” A ragged breath shudders out of me. “My parents… they didn’t allow pets.” My heart beats erratically as my past shoves its way to the forefront. I try to tamp down on the unwanted emotions, but a quiet whimper slips free.
“They hurt you.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “Yes.”
“God, Kat. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I pull the blanket tighter around me and press the phone against my chest. It’s not the comfort of his arms, but it’s the closest thing I have. “I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Ok. What do you want to talk about?”
“What about you? When’s your birthday?”
“January first.”
“A new year’s baby? It must feel like the entire world is celebrating your birthday. No wonder you’re so cocky.”
He lets out a half-hearted chuckle, but there’s something else beneath the surface. “Yeah, but lately, there’s only one person I really want to spend it with.”
My stomach flutters, but it’s quickly replaced by an overwhelming wave of sadness. I want him here with me; I want him to fill this aching loneliness that only wanes with his presence.
I shake myself out of the depressing thoughts. “Smooth line, Cowboy.”
“I do my best.” I can almost hear the smile in his voice.
God, how I wish I could see that smile.
There’s movement on the other end of the line, and he clears his throat. “What’s stopping you from getting a cat now?”
“Nothing, I guess. I just hadn’t really thought about it.”
I’ve never been settled anywhere long enough to even consider getting a pet—always just one misstep away from being back on the streets. This is the most settled I’ve ever been. Maybe I should do it. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so lonely.
“I should probably get to bed. I have to be at work in the morning.”
“If I let you go, are you gonna ghost me again?”
I laugh. “Will you be on tomorrow night?”
“For you? Any time.”
God, he’s good at this. I almost believe that he truly cares about me. A smarter woman would realize the kind of slippery slope I’m on and course correct before it’s too late, but he’s the first man who’s ever made me feel like I’m not a burden, and I don’t have it in me to let that go.
“Goodnight, Cowboy.”
“Happy birthday, Alley Kat.”
Jaxon
The call ends, and I spend the next several minutes replaying the sound of her voice. I run my fingers through my hair and stare up at the ceiling.
Knowing she’s spending her birthday alone—that her family hurt her in some way—makes me want to find her, hold her, and never let her go.
Ever since Wilder moved back and found Olivia, I’ve become acutely aware that something is missing in my life.
I want what they have. Someone to curl up with at night, tell them about my day, and listen to stories about theirs.
I want to sit in the same room without having to say a word and take comfort in their presence.
When I think about my life and everything I want for it, she's there. I know it's not realistic, but she's the only woman who calls to me, even if her face changes with each vision. Someday I'll find her, and maybe she’ll make this darkness bearable.
My phone chimes with a notification, and I prepare to decline whatever new request is coming in. My mind is too preoccupied with Kat to focus on anyone else. When I see what’s on the screen, my entire body tenses.
Alley_Kat has sent at $20 tip
Reality hits like a sucker punch to the gut. It’s a stark reminder that this has always been transactional, and I let myself get too caught up in the moment. I’m a cheap toy, useful under the right circumstances, but foolish as fuck for letting myself think this could ever mean something more.