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“What if I told you that I could make that happen?” Lorenzo speaks the words in such a low tone that it sends a shiver down my spine. His lips are right next to my ear, and the warmth of his breath makes me believe for seconds that anything is possible.
But reality is a bitch, and she reminds me immediately that there are no fairytale endings. Happily ever afters are reserved for princesses, not girls that take off their clothes for money.
I open my eyes to find Lorenzo only millimeters away. He’s within touching distance, and it’s a stark revelation of what I am and who he is. I’m a stripper, and he’s a customer. He’s paying for my services.
I throw a leg over his lap and upend the entire conversation. With my breasts pressed against him, I can forget that just a few seconds ago, he was offering me the world. That kind of talk is reserved for the bedroom. Men like Lorenzo don’t give girls like me everything we want. Men like Lorenzo ply us with money and expect us to be their mistresses and do what their wives won’t do in the bedroom.
“What if I told you I could make allyourdreams come true?” I whisper in Lorenzo’s ear, taking the tip of my tongue and running it across the curve of his lobe.
He grabs my hips, and his fingertips dig into my skin. “Havana,” he calls my name like a warning, “I was being serious.”
No, he wasn’t,the little voice in my head says.Ride him until he forgets what he was saying.I grind my crotch against his until the press of his cock against the front of his jeans is impressive. His bulge is enough to get me off if I let it, but I don’t do that with men.
The music playing over the speakers’ thumps along with the beat of my heart. I move my body in time with the lyrics and try to pretend we didn’t just talk about my deepest desires. When I roll over so that my ass is pressed against his growing member, it’s easier to imagine that he’s someone else. Someone less attractive. Someone with less money. Someone less motivated to offer me the world in exchange for a date that ends with me on my knees.
I almost do it, too. I almost forget.
Until his hands have a mind of their own, and his fingers start coasting across my body. He grabs my breast roughly with his left as his right slips past the waistband of my lingerie. “Don’t fight it,” he whispers in my ear. “Let me make you feel good.”
I could call the security guard and end this right now, but I give myself over to the feelings instead. I’d rather be baptized in shame over letting him get me off than washed in the filth of admitting my secret desires.
5
LORENZO
SIX MONTHS BEFORE
My dick is going to feel like sandpaper when I’m through with it, but what else am I supposed to do? Havana Camden has a fucking OnlyFans.
It turns out that when you have enough information about someone, you can find out anything. Havana also doesn’t keep her internet dealings very private. All I had to do was find her on Twitter, and the treasure box was unlocked. She marketed her OnlyFans to the sick puppies of the internet in every other post. Men were crawling in her comments like cockroaches. I made it my personal mission to block every single one of them so I didn’t have to see their disgusting, fucked up comments about Havana.
Then I paid to unlock her OnlyFans because that was the only answer. Obviously. One peek behind the curtain, and I was fucking sold.
Nobody makes an outfit look as sexy as Havana. Someone once paid to have her dress up like that girl from Little House On The Prairie. She posted the photos, and I had some really messed up dreams where she was churning butter while I was fucking her in the ass. I’m a sick man; I know that. But she’s the one that made me this way.
I’ll be honest. I searched through her entire OnlyFans history for a video of her getting plowed by some other dude. I expected it, and I was bracing myself for it, but it never came.
I found videos of her trying on little pieces of lingerie that men had bought her. I came across videos of her masturbating. I even found a couple of videos that were paid requests from other subscribers. In one of them, she was contorted into a strange position while spanking her ass with a wooden bath brush. “I’ve been a bad girl,” she said while looking into the camera. “I deserve to be punished.”
Admittedly, it’s my fault that my dick is practically chafing. I spent two straight days scrolling through her feed to make sure I didn’t find some random guy on her page. Every time I came across a video of her, I grabbed some lotion and jerked off. I don’t think a harem of women could ooze cum from my dick like I did thinking about and watching Havana.
I can’t deny that half of my attraction to her is physical. She’s a perfect little blonde-haired, hazel-eyed goddess with legs for days. She can work a 50s housewife dress just as well as a little black lacy number. Havana looks good in everything, and it sets me off like a rocket.
But I think I’m most impressed that she has a few hundred subscribers and not a single video of her sucking someone off or getting fucked. All of her content is her own. And damn, she has a lot of fucking content.
In one video, she choked herself to tears on a large, flesh-colored dildo. With her hands loosely tied around her back, she gave a silicone dick the best blowjob I’ve ever seen. She really understood her clientele because she had mascara streaked across her face and drool dripping off her chin by the time she was finished. It made you wish you were the one that put that distressed look on her face by the end. All she needed was for me to grab her by the ponytail and control the rhythm until her hair was just as messed up as the makeup on her face.
In another video, she had another dildo suctioned to her bathroom wall, and she repeatedly impaled herself on it while staring at the camera. She reached back behind her to pull her cheeks apart while whispering, “Be gentle, Daddy,” into the lens. I didn’t even get through the first sixty seconds of the video before I made a mess all over my lap.
She’s a God damn performer, and it only makes her more of a catch. I don’t know how many men she’s fucked to get this good at it, but she’s not fucking anymore. From now on, Havana Camden’s only sex partners are me and anything made of plastic. And once she’s mine, even the plastic has to go.
I make a few calls in between masturbation sessions. I get one guy to follow her during the day and another to follow her at night. She’ll have round-the-clock surveillance until we’re finally together. I know she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s upgrading her life by marrying me. I’ll make sure she never has to fuck herself on camera again. But if she wants to, it’s going to be me getting her off.
I don’t know how much money she’s making with this OnlyFans thing, but if money is what she needs, I’ll take care of it for her. My wife doesn’t have to expose her body for cash; she only needs to write someone a check from our shared bank account.
6
HAVANA
