Four #2
His eyes lift and he breathes out a sigh. “I may or may not have an old OnlyFans account, but that was only because I needed traveling money. I’m guessing he’s one of my subscribers, but I never shared one word with the guy before. I didn’t do the whole chatting or webcam thing.”
Folding my arms, I lean against the door frame and then look down at him. “Show me, then.”
“Show you?” he says, looking completely thrown for a loop.
“Yeah. Let’s see this so called OnlyFans. I want to see if they’re the same photos I was shown by my heartbroken mom.”
He gasps. “Your mom saw them?” Face paling, he scrubs a hand over it. “Well fuck . . . that . . . I didn’t even consider something like that happening, or that it would even get back to me here.”
“You put yourself online for thousands of people to see. Everyone knows it’s always a risk.
” Anyone with a brain at least. Then again, this is Blake—he’s not the type to fully think things through.
But I need to see this site. Not only for my peace of mind but also to see how desperate he once was trying to make it on his own.
“Yeah . . . that’s true, but I didn’t really think about it at the time. Was only thinking about how I was going to keep paying for hotel rooms and my next meal.”
“Daddy really cut you off, huh? Why not follow the path he made for you if you needed the money so badly?”
“Why don’t you become farmer John? Put on your dad’s overalls and start harvesting crops and showing up to farmer’s markets? It’s the same reason. I want to be me, not him.”
I nod, stepping back. “Fair enough. You going to come in or not? My mom’ll be back soon so you should hurry.”
“Come in?” He gulps.
“Yeah. Unless you want me to see you playing with yourself out here.”
“Playing with myself?” His face turns brighter.
“That’s what you were doing in one of the photos I saw, and if he really got it from this site you’re going on about then show me.”
“Okay. If that’s what you really want.” Sidestepping around me, he enters the house and stands awkwardly in front of the living room as I close the door. I lift my head. “My room’s down the hall. I’d rather not risk my mom seeing you here.”
“Yeah, that probably wouldn’t be good.” Tugging at the front of his shirt, he walks ahead of me, occasionally looking back for some direction. I point to the second door on the right and he opens the door, waiting for my permission before stepping inside.
“Go ahead, sit.” I gesture to the edge of the bed and he hesitates before lowering himself onto my mattress. His gaze circles around the room. “This looks like a seventeen?year?old’s bedroom.”
I sit next to him, leaving a small gap. “It’s a work in progress, but I’ll make sure to let my decorator know,” I smart off.
He laughs, looking down at his blank phone screen. “So, I didn’t intend to ever look back at these. I always just posted and pretended it didn’t happen. Never bothered to look at comments or anything.”
“You do that a lot.”
“Do what?” He meets my gaze, sliding closer.
“Pretend.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles awkwardly. Tapping at the screen, he pulls up the website and hands me his phone after typing in the password. “Knock yourself out. I haven’t taken anything down, so anything your dad got from me will be there.”
They are all there, too. Every single damn one I was shown.
He was telling the truth. My mom must have come to her own conclusions with the whole sugar daddy app thing.
Apparently there were others too, so maybe that’s what made sense in her mind.
It’s not that I ever felt he was really at fault for my parents’ crumbling marriage.
My dad was fully to blame. He would have ruined it either way.
It was just the idea of my bully being his fuck toy.
Especially right after thinking he’d purposely sabotaged my relationship—which hasn’t been fully ruled out yet.
I scroll down further, my eyes locking onto a short video of him riding a pink dildo.
He’s lifting his hips and shuddering each time he slams down.
A piercing gleams from his left nipple and another above his belly button.
My cock twitches, and my skin heats. The video replays three more times before I move on to the next one.
I swallow the building saliva in my mouth as he fucks his throat with the same dildo he’s had in his ass more than once according to images that follow.
His cheeks hollow and his eyes water as I watch it again.
And again and again. Heat spills over into my veins and I’m on the verge of eruption when I picture my cock in place of the silicone toy.
I’m the one plunging between those pink lips and causing him to gag.
I close my eyes, leaning more into the fantasy with his mouth’s slurping wet sounds surrounding me.
A hand moves between my legs and he tugs at my hard?on, massaging me from the outside of my pants. His eyes are ablaze when I open mine, heat burning in them as he makes needy sounds with his throat. “You don’t need that anymore . . . not when the real thing is right here.”
His warm fingers brush over mine as he removes my phone from my hand. He tosses it behind us, eyes staying on mine as he yanks at the ties on my pants, preparing to tug them down my hips. I grab at his wrist, slightly twisting it, and he grimaces.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of that for you.” He licks his lips and slides his other fingers under the waistband of my sweats, sweeping them over my cock before I pull his hand out and toss it away.
“I didn’t ask you to, did I? You can’t just do what you want whenever the fuck you feel like it, and you should really learn to keep your hands to yourself until someone gives you permission to touch them.”
“I . . . You were getting turned on by me,” he says pointedly. “So I thought it was implied . . . you know . . .”
“I wasn’t getting turned on by you.” I release my hold on him and he cups his wrist with his other hand. “It was an involuntary reaction. My cock got hard from the action alone. Had nothing to do with you.”
“You kept watching it. You couldn’t stop. That has to mean something. Surely, you could have exited the site and gone to someone else after I left.”
I slam a fist to my thigh, my jaw locking tight.
“I told you. It has nothing to do with me wanting you. I saw you acting like a whore who had zero respect for himself and that’s what turned me on.
What I liked seeing. You’re so desperate for attention.
Always needing validation that you’re wanted and needed.
Yet here you are, repeatedly throwing yourself at the guy you used to degrade.
Used to treat as lesser than you. Used to talk down to. Someone you saw as beneath you.”
“I . . . I don’t think you’re beneath me.”
“No, because you think I’m sexy now, isn’t that right?” I stroke his cheek and he shivers.
“Yeah . . . or no . . .”