CHAPTER 16 – LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION! #5
The dollars are rolling in. The chime from the computer is so constant and loud it’s almost like a siren now.
Jack spreads my butt cheeks wide, the better to show off the movement of his stiff shaft in and out of my slick pussy.
We end with a final showstopper: Jack, coming hard in my cunt, and then pulling out and showing off my just-fucked opening.
A bead of semen coagulates at my tiny vag before streaming down one ivory thigh, and the chat practically explodes with appreciation.
“Fuck yeah!” one dude writes.
“More,” another adds.
“When can I fuck her. I’ll do anything to make it happen,” a third chimes in.
That’s our cue. We say goodbye, promising a next time, and then kill the stream.
When the lights are off and the gear powered down, Jack scoops me up and carries me to bed. We lie there, both still masked, breathless and giddy.
“You were amazing, Bunny,” he says.
I take off my mask, hair plastered to my forehead, and smile sweetly. “You too, Wolf.”
The room is a mess of tangled sheets, sticky toys, and sweat-damp hair. I’m utterly boneless, legs splayed, still wearing a few pieces of tight latex, and not caring if I ever stand up again. My body aches in all the right places.
But then, Jack’s laptop on the dresser starts pinging—a rapid-fire succession of cash-register chimes, each one a tip or a new subscription. I groan, roll over, and watch him prop himself up on an elbow to check the dashboard.
He whistles, low and awed. “Holy shit, sweetheart. We made more in an hour than I did in a month at the Air Force. Maybe two months.”
I peek over his shoulder. The numbers don’t even look real. My face forms a coquettish smile. “Told you we’d be good together.”
He glances at me, and his return smile is the kind that makes you believe in every dumb cliché about true love. “You were right, Bunny. You’re always right.”
We lie there for a while, listening to the digital applause roll in, until the sweat dries and the ache becomes a shiver. He peels the bodysuit off me, careful and sweet, then scoops me up and carries me to the shower.
The spray is hot, and the air fogs instantly. I lean into him, letting his hands run soap along my back, shoulders, and everywhere in between. I scrub his massive back, and then run my hands appreciatively along those six-pack abs.
“Next time,” Jack says, rinsing my hair, “I want to try the new swing. Maybe some candle wax, too.”
I smile sweetly. “You’re getting cocky, Captain.”
He bites my shoulder, playful. “I have you to blame.”
After, we wrap up in robes, pour two glasses of the fizzy champagne we keep for special occasions, and park ourselves in front of the laptop to read the chat replay.
There are jokes, dirty memes, and even a couple of marriage proposals.
I type a general thank-you message to the crowd as Bunny, and Jack adds a line as Wolf: “You asked for it, you got it. See you next week.”
He closes the browser, and then immediately opens up a travel site. “What are we going to do with all this cash, sweetheart? Do you want to go on vacation? Maybe someplace sunny.”
I scoot closer, chin on his shoulder, and watch as he clicks through beach bungalows in Bali, overwater huts in the Maldives, and finally a remote log cabin in Iceland. “You know,” I say, “for a guy who used to travel non-stop, you’re still really into it.”
He shoots me a serious look. “Yeah, but this time it’s with you, sweetheart, so it’s worth it.”
My heart swoops and squeezes with love, and we kiss passionately before turning back to the screen.
We debate the merits of tropical versus Arctic, with Jack making a surprisingly strong case for snow and hot springs.
He argues logistics, cost, and possible visa issues.
I counter with poolside cocktails and the chance to wear a bikini for days on end.
The fact that we’re even having this argument—half-joking, half-real—is almost too much to process.
This is us now. Our bond, shared and real.
At some point, Jack leans over and kisses me, slow and sure, and all the noise fades. For a second, I can’t tell if I’m Bunny or Eliza or both. The line’s gone, and I don’t want it back.
I think of my mom, my old friends, my day job that’s slowly fading into background noise.
I think of the secret we’re keeping, and how it could blow up at any second, and how, for the first time in my life, I don’t care.
I have a future—messy, uncertain, blazing bright.
I have a home, a partner, a place in the world.
I pull the huge male close, the taste of champagne lingering on his lips, and whisper, “This is real, right? Not just a fantasy?”
Jack’s hand finds my cheek, thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “It’s real, sweetheart. You and me.”
It’s everything I ever wanted, even if I never knew it.
Outside is pure chaos. My parents, the law firm, and the ugliness that seems to pervade the news every day. But inside, Jack and I toast to our ridiculous, perfect life, and I know—finally, absolutely—that I’m not running away from anything.
I’m exactly where I want to be.