AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I guess so,” I mumbled, regretting I’d brought the subject up. I wanted to reassure him that he hadnothingto worry about. “Anyway, I’ll be all yours tonight. And just you wait and see what I’m wearing beneath my dress.” I teasingly lifted the shoulder strap to give him a glimpse at my lacy lingerie. “You’re going to love it.”
“Mm. I bet,” he said with that dimpleless smile.
“I bet my fans will love it, too,” I said absent-mindedly. I regretted it immediately. “Shit. Sorry. Right after you told me not to, too—”
With a heavy breath, Cody wiped his hands through the air to reset the conversation. “It’s okay. Just forget it, Izzy. Let’s move on.”
Our server swooped by with menus and drinks. The menus, printed on heavy cardstock, were aesthetically simple. So, too, were the descriptions of the French cuisine, containing only the barest essentials of information.
Which apparently didnotinclude the price, throwing a wrench in my plan to order the cheapest entree on the menu.
Cody peeked up at me. “It’s my treat, okay?”
Ugh, he could read me like a book, couldn’t he?
“I wish you’d let me pay,” I said.
“It’syourbirthday, Izzy. I want to treat you.”
“I know, but …” I trailed off.
Thebutwas the fact that Cody made eight dollars an hour busting his ass as a fry cook at an insanely busy bar and grill, where half his coworkers drink and sniff coke on the job. And I make, well, ahellof a lot more than that by posting some PG-13 pictures on the internet a couple times a week.
“Please let me treat you to a birthday dinner,” he said. “I just want to feel like a normal couple for once.”
Huh?My eyebrow arched at his choice of words. But I didn’t ask what he meant, exactly, bynormal couple, because I didn’t want to ruin the night like I always do.
And I already kinda-sorta made the night weird on the drive over, when I popped onto my OnlyFans account. I tended to get tens, sometimes hundreds, of messages a day from my fans. I tried to read them all.Mostof the messages I receive are positive. But there are always, without fail, a handful of negative ones.
Like this one:“Hi, I just subbed. Do you ever do nudes? Or is this it?”I guessed he missed the part in my bio that says, in big and bold letters, “Lewds only! No nudes.”
It’s not like I’m trying to trick anybody here; I make no secret that I’m not comfortable posting nude photos on the internet. If you aren’t willing to pay for lewds, then don’t subscribe—that was always my attitude. And for the longest time, my fans understood that was the pact between us. Their support made me one of the most popular content creators on the platform. But these days I’m getting more and more fans who seem to think they can change my mind or bully me into doing nudes.
This one, I’ll admit, hurt:“Why do I still give you $5 a month? All you ever post are the same boring poses in the same boring bedroom. I get to see more from other models and for less money. Unsubbed.”
I was used to people complaining about the lack of nudity, but boring poses? Boring bedroom? Those were new to me.
Sometimes, my fans even send me a tip with their message, which can make for some really odd moments. This guy, for example, tipped me twenty dollars and said:“hey babydoll, i wanna see your puss. send me a fingerblast vid?? something?? please?? u fucking bitch”
Oookay. Thanks for the money, I guess …?
Anyway, you get the idea.
The point is, on the drive to my birthday dinner, I made the mistake of checking my messages knowingfull wellI might see something I didn’t like. And sure enough, I got a little irritated by the complaints, and then I dumped it on Cody.
Cody had rolled his eyes and pointed out, as he often did, “And how manynice messages did you read before you let those ones get under your skin?”
He was right. For every negativemessage I got from a fan, there were tens if not hundreds of positive comments. But for whatever reason, it’s so easyto glance right past those nice messages and obsess over the mean ones. Especially when the bad messages all seemed to be saying the same thing.And poor Cody had to listen to me complain about them all the time.
Cody had sighed, his eyes glued on the road. “Can we please have one night without the OnlyFans talk?”
“Um… yeah, sure,” I’d said, a little startled and equally hurt. Did I talk about my work too much? Did he not like the fact I had an OnlyFans? That’d be ironic, consideringhewas the one who’d talked me into starting one—hell, he even set my account up for me!
I wanted to ask all those things, but he’d just told me he didn’t want to talk about it.
So I said nothing.
Andwesaid nothing as we sat at our table for two, each of us idly looking around the restaurant, scanning the crowd, like we were desperately searching our environment for topics of conversation.
