Chapter 6
Chapter Six
EVEREST
I drop down on my bed, exhausted from the day and it’s only one in the afternoon.
The gym was crazy, especially since I had to be there at four am for opening then a lab that lasted from nine until noon.
I would’ve still been in class if the professor hadn’t sent a message canceling due to being sick.
Instead he gave us an assignment that will count as extra credit for our next test if we want to do it.
Fuck yeah I do. Extra points is the difference between an A or a B, or for some, passing or failing.
I’ve just kicked my shoes off and made the decision to take a much needed nap when my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s positioned right against my dick and fuck, if that’s what it feels like for a woman, holy hell.
Pulling my phone from my pocket I see it’s a notification from the BTL site. CottonCandyKisses is Live.
There’s no hesitation on my part; I quickly click the link, hating that I’m on my phone and not my laptop.
The feed buffers for a few seconds and then there she is— Candy, herself.
She’s on the bed, sitting back on her calves, her knees spread wide as she plays with her clit like it’s the most casual thing in the world and there aren’t people watching.
I scoot up in the bed, then fumble with my pants as I undo them, pulling out my cock.
At this point I don’t even care if Tanner bursts in and catches me rubbing one out.
Reaching over to my night stand, I open the drawer and take out the lotion.
I set the phone down long enough to squirt a little in my hand and grip my cock.
“So... the site’s doing a calendar event, twelve stars, twelve months. Each one of us is picking a different holiday to shoot a video for as well.” She bites her lip and lets out a little moan, never missing a beat as she rubs little circles on her clit.
How the hell she expects anyone to pay attention to any of the words coming out of her mouth when her pussy’s glistening with her juices is beyond me. My tongue drags across my lower lip as I envision tasting her sweet little cunt.
“I got December. Can anyone guess what holiday I picked?”
She just had to ask and the chat erupts with responses.
JuicyFruitSlut: Christmas. Are you going to be wrapped up in lights?
DaddyVibes: Nah that's too cliche for Candy. She’d be something else.
SweetNStabby: I’m already googling holidays.
I grip my cock tighter as Candy moans, taking pure delight in our anticipation of her holiday.
More answers pop up in the chat, but I’m not focused on them, my eyes are on her.
She has my undivided attention. If I was on my laptop I may have tried to give an answer, but I’m not, so I’ll be a good boy and wait patiently.
“Christmas is too overrated for me. And no one’s picked it.” She gives a playful pout. “Should I put you out of your misery and just tell you?”
She lifts her free hand to her mouth, sucking on the tip of her finger, coyly. “Alright. You have been good little boys and girls.” Candy winks.
My strokes quicken imagining me kneeling on the floor in front of her as she praises me.
Fuck, do I have a kink? A praise kink. My head falls back for a second and I have to slow my pace, thinking of anything but Candy so I don’t blow my load.
Not yet anyway. Not until she comes. When I’ve finally got myself under control I look back at the screen.
“I picked Cotton Candy Day,” she says, laughing.
“Cause like, duh. Look at me.” She laughs, but there’s a half-second where something shifts.
It’s tiny, just a hitch in her smile, a breath she takes like she’s bracing for something, but I catch it.
Her hand stills on her thigh before she moves again, slower this time, like she’s choosing her next words carefully.
It’s the first time she doesn’t look completely untouchable.
“And...” she gasps, “I’m doing something special. I’m gonna pick one subscriber at random... to film with me.”
My heart stops. Is she for real? How? Who?
Is it even safe for her to do that? My heart begins to race with rage, thinking of her being with someone.
Especially when I want to be that person.
But I know it’s a long shot. She probably has someone already in mind.
No way would she just pick some random person she’s never met.
“We’ll talk about the details privately, but you’ll have to pass a background check. Full STD panel too. Gotta be safe, Sugars. And, you gotta be okay being on camera... and open to some public fun.”
Candy tips her back, her hand moving faster, and lets out this low, broken sound that’s basically my personal death sentence.
“I’m not giving it all away yet... but that’s your hint. The link’s dropping,” her voice gets raspy as she continues to speak, rising an octave, “if you wanna enter. Best of luck, Sugars.”
And then she cums. Hard. No, she squirts. All over her hand, the bed — fuck. Then her stream ends.
I completely lose it. My brain can’t even think straight. My cock twitches in my hand, mad that Candy’s gone and craving its own release. I search through her videos and find one she posted last week that I haven’t watched yet and press play.
Much like today she’s in the same position on her bed.
Her eyes are glassed over and her mouth is parted like she’s begging for it to be filled.
Instead of her hand, she’s using a vibrator, pressing it on her clit as she pinches her nipple with her other hand.
Her skin is glistening with sweat and I just want to lick her once to see if she tastes as sweet as her name.
The room fills with the sounds of my muffled groans and flesh on flesh. The volume on my phone is low, but not so much that I can’t hear her raspy moans. I tune out everything else and imagine her here, in the room with me, as we masturbate in front of each other.
That’s all it takes.
I cum to her voice, her body, the way she says baby like she means it just for me. When I catch my breath, everything hits at once.
The raffle.
Shit, I need to see if she dropped the link.
I set the phone on the bed and pull off my shirt, cleaning up my cum then tossing it on the floor. I’ll put it in the laundry later. I have more important things to do first.
I click back over to her main page as if it’s calling to me like the bat signal.
My fingers move across the keyboard on my phone as I fill out the entry form. It’s asking for basic information. Name, email, active subscriber number.
Once I’m done I quickly hit the submit button and send up a silent prayer that I’ll be picked. Not once does it cross my mind how crazy this is. All I know is I need her. And if there’s even the smallest chance I could have her for real —
Then fuck it, I’m taking it.