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“Hell no. I paid her a thousand bucks for a show with that Baylor green cock with Spencer’s name on it. She’s trying to rip us off.”
“Making a big deal over a grand?” August said behind me. “You’re a wealth manager, home slice. You make more than that in a day.”
“So what?”
“So, you’re throwing a temper tantrum for nothing,” August shot back at him. “That’s real tiny-dick energy.”
The host whirled from the laptop ready for a fight. When he saw me, he hesitated. I had at least forty pounds on him, and it was mostly muscle. Being a broad-shouldered former football player meant people judged me all the time, but sometimes it had its perks.
The scowl on his face disappeared, and he let out a fake laugh. “Right, right. I’ll issue a charge-back on my credit card. Won’t let this bitch scam me.”
It was the third time he had insulted the woman. I felt my fingers curling into a fist at my side. Before I could make a decision I would regret, I turned around and disengaged. August gave me a grateful nod in passing.
I went to the bar and got another drink. The host was a trust-fund baby. He’d gotten his masters at Princeton, was making middle six-figures, and lived in one of the nicest penthouse suites in Fort Perth. And despite all of that, he was going on a power trip because the feed went out for a minute or two.
I never want to be like him. Even when I have money.
The girl was still gyrating on the bed like nothing was wrong, while sliding the dildo up and down her pussy. I allowed the show to calm my nerves after the argument with the party host.
I had been heartbroken about Erin. I thought she wasthe one. It was the worst breakup of my life. Even a month later, thinking about her created a sharp, pinching sensation in my gut. I hadn’t been able to evenlookat another woman since then, let alone think about dating again.
But watching this girl on OnlyFans? I felt my pain melting away. Like it wasmedicineor something. It was ridiculous. It made me feel shallow. What did it say about me that some random sex show could heal my wounds?
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” August said. “Spencer’s already shitfaced and won’t remember how long we stuck around. And I don’t want to be a party to whatever revenge tiny-dick is planning.”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night,” I said while letting him drag me away. Before leaving the room, I glanced over my shoulder at the projector. The girl’s screen name was visible in the corner.
ThiccGinger.
3
Ginny
I slept like garbage.
There was a lot on my mind. I had my job interview the next day, which was a persistent anxiety that never disappeared. My rent was increasing—for the third time in a year. That was going to hurt. Not me, since I was making good money with my sexy side-hustle, but for people I cared about…
And to top it all off was the asshole from last night. I was good at ignoring inflammatory messages in the chat. There were always a few, and I went through them and permanently muted the really bad ones after every show. But the guy who had hired me to use the big green dildo? He took the cake. Calling me the C-word, and then getting all of his buddies at the party to spam the chat with complaints. That caused my other fans to argue back at him, until it was a giant war of insults in the chat.
That’s the opposite of sexy.
It got worse when I woke up this morning and checked my email. The ass-hat had issued a charge-back on his credit card for the purchase. That meant the $1,000 he spent for the special treatment was gone. It also meant OnlyFans flagged my account for review, freezing all my tips and other earnings from last night’s show until they determined if the charge-back was valid.
I spent an hour that morning submitting a support ticket to the OnlyFans administrators. Hopefully they would look into it and rule in my favor. The guy paid for me to use the green dildo during the show for at least ten minutes, and I had fulfilled my obligation—and exceeded it by using it for nearlythirtyminutes!
But in the meantime, it felt like the universe was throwing a bunch of roadblocks in my way. It sucked.
After submitting the ticket, I forcefully pushed it all out of my head. I had a big job interview today! And not working for Subway or any other crappy retail job: I would be working for a non-profit in downtown Fort Perth. A real office job like I always dreamed of.
Sure, I was making good money on OnlyFans. But I couldn’t take my clothes off on the internet for money forever. I was only doing it long enough to get out of these slummy apartments and into a real house. A place that I could call my own, without landlords or building managers.
It was easy to choose what to wear. The majority of my closet wardrobe was devoted to lingerie and sexy outfits to wear during my online shows. I only had one legitimate professional outfit: black dress slacks, a white blouse, and a dress jacket. Dad had bought it for me when I was taking classes at the community college, so I would be ready for the avalanche of job interviews he expected me to have. Lord knows how many extra hours he had to work to afford the simple outfit.
I’ll buy a bunch more outfits when I get the job, I thought.When, not if. I was trying to think positively.
After getting dressed and doing my hair, I locked my bedroom door behind me. It was a custom lock I had installed myself. The last thing I needed was Mr. Fedener snooping around.
Our building didn’t have an elevator, and the stairs were difficult to navigate in heels. I was definitely out of practice. I walked outside and clomped my way to the parking lot across the street. The car next to mine had a broken window, which made me sigh with relief. Better theirs than mine. I didn’t keep anything valuable in my car—I didn’thaveanything valuable to keep in there—but that didn’t stop the local druggies from smashing a window to see what was in the glove compartment. I’d had to replace the window twice this year. Just another wonderful benefit of living on this side of town. Being poor was expensive.
