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Thank you, mistress. (Tip: $250)
She smiles brightly as Whale tips her generously. Shit. She makes a fucking killing doing this.
“Tits, I’m not doing that,” she says politely, and my brows lift.
“You’re not?” I ask, unable to stop myself. “I thought you’d do anything for a dime.”
She shoots me a withering glare and shrugs. I scoff, rolling my eyes. Eve responds by sliding her hands up her body in a slow, sensual move, before lifting one above her head out of shot, and promptly flips me off, mouthing, fuck you, asshole.
With a final glare, she turns back toward her audience, trying to forget I’m there. But I won’t let her.
I can’t.
I may be turned on, but I’m also pissed the fuck off and the longer I stand here, the longer I watch her effortlessly turn strangers on, spread her thighs for them, touch herself for a bunch of nobodies, the more incensed I become.
My fingers ache for my lighter, but instead, I pick up my phone again. My lips lift in a genuine smile as rage and heartbreak war for dominance inside me. I flick the Favorite Fans app closed and bring up my camera.
If she wants to go to war, to war we fucking go.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
What is he doing here? I thought he was still away. The house was silent all morning, and I didn’t see him when I came out for my morning coffee. If I had, I wouldn’t be doing this. Not here, not now.
And why hasn’t he flipped yet? Lost his shit on me for doing this?
I thought…
I thought…
I thought he would have cared.
My eyes burn, but I blink the reaction away before he notices.
Swallowing thickly, I pretend I’m alone in this room, putting on a show for my fans. It’s nearly impossible with Roman’s dark presence looming over me. But I have to. I can’t stop now.
I can’t let him win.
I throw my head back at something one of my viewers says, feigning pleasure when all I feel is chaos.
“Thank you for the tip, Furby.” Internally, I roll my eyes. Furbys4Lyfe, really? What is this, 2000?
Roman scoffs and shuffles around like he’s trying to get comfortable.
Is he seriously just going to stand there, watching me like I’m nothing more than his personal entertainment? Like this isn’t killing him inside?
Fuck. What if it’s not?
That thought is almost worse than anything else.
Goosebumps cover my skin, and I fight the urge to cover up. I feel exposed and vulnerable knowing Roman is judging me. Not just my body, but judging what he’s seeing now. Not for the first time, I wonder what he’s thinking of me. If he’s disgusted, or if he regrets ever knowing me.
Loving me.
Shaking off the drastic turn my mind has taken, I flick my eyes to the left side of the screen, scanning the rapid commentary from viewers. My eyes nearly roll.
Tits joins every one of my lives and they never fail to request the most ridiculous content for minimal prices. I may want to reach my goal sooner than later, but I have my limits. And toes? Definitely a limit.
I idly run my vibrator over my clit, reveling in the sharp zaps it sends down my spine. That combined with Roman watching me has my pussy wetter than usual. It’s hard for me to focus enough to come during these things. There are so many people, so many requests. Good and bad.
