All About the D

Women wanting to get him off.

Do it, Evie. Don’t be a fool. You’ve known him two months. He’s best friends with Drew, who talked about scheduling a blow job after dinner. You wouldn’t have guessed Elliot would break things off with you like he did. What’s to say Josh isn’t carrying on shit with women online?

Suddenly, I feel like a crazy person. I don’t want to mistrust Josh. He’s given me every indication that he’s been straight up with me.

Except we didn’t see each other all week. Don’t some guys seek other outlets when they don’t get sex regularly? And if he’s that kind of guy, don’t I want to know now?

Please don’t be that kind of guy.

Taking a deep breath, I click open the message from SloppyLipsSinkShips. She’s attached a video. I maneuver the mouse over the icon of the paperclip, my heart hammering in my chest the whole time.

I click on the video and a petite blonde with bouncy boobs smiles up at the camera. She’s stunning. Big, false eyelashes bat at me and her glossy mouth pouts. Her babyish voice coos, “I’m so wet for you, Big D. So wet. I wish I could ride that huge cock of yours. I really hope you rub one out to my video. It would make my day! I loved that gif you posted the other day. Can I rub your dick next time?”

The camera lowers down her perfect body, down her breasts that she pinches. Down her slender stomach and narrow hips. Down her hairless crotch. One manicured finger pushes her lips apart as she starts to rub herself. A moist squishing sound fills the room as bile pushes up the back of my throat.

I try to close the screen, but I keep missing the button as SloppyLipsSinkShips keeps moaning. “Big D, I wish you could come all over my tits. I would lick it up like this.” She takes the fingers from between her legs and sticks them in her mouth. “I bet you taste so good,” she groans. “I still want us to meet. I promise to make it worth your time. I don’t even care if you have a girlfriend or whatever. No one has to know. I’ll come to you, wherever you are. Any time. Any day.”

Oh, God. Finally, I close the lid, not able to take anymore.

I don’t know how long I sit there freaking out. Wondering if this is the kind of woman Josh really wants. Someone with perky boobs and defined abs. Someone petite and perfect. Someone like Tiffany.

Eventually Josh walks in, with water dripping down his shoulders and a towel wrapped around his waist. He studies my expression. “Hey, you okay?”

Swallowing past the knot in my throat, I shake my head. “No, not at all.”





29





Josh





Evie’s fuming at my desk, the laptop closed, glaring like she’s about to nailgun me to the wall.

Did something happen at her work? I tuck my towel tighter around my waist and grab my glasses off the bedside table.

“What’s going on?”

Stepping closer, I see her eyes are welling with tears.

Her voice, that sexy, sweet voice, lowers to a whisper. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” And what happened in the last fifteen minutes that has her looking so unhinged?

“This. Us.” She shakes her head. “I thought I could handle everything you do for your blog, but now I’m not sure.”

“Whoa. What’s going on?”

“I accidentally launched your blog’s inbox.”

My stomach drops.

Oh.

Fuck.

She saw the kind of shit I get.

But she doesn’t understand. I can explain it to her.

“It’s not what you think—” I begin, but she interrupts me.

“I saw it, Josh. I saw the tens of thousands of messages you have from your blog. They’re not unread messages—you look at them. I saw Miss Sloppy Lips Sink Ships. And I know you did too, because the message was already opened. The woman not only got herself off to you, she offered to fuck you. You, not some anonymous blogger. You. She wants to fuck you. And she makes you porn. And as your attorney, we’re gonna ignore the fact that I violated the federal Electronic Communications Act of 1986 because as your girlfriend, I’m entitled to know.”

A flash of annoyance pulses through me that she snooped through my email, but I don’t really care. I have nothing to hide. An unexpected benefit of being in the porn industry is that sex is normalized and not taboo.

I’m more concerned she doesn’t trust me.

“What have I ever done to make you question my commitment to you? I know I post stupid crap on my blog, but all you had to do was ask me. About any of this.”

So my inbox is always full with messages from fans. The guys are particularly aggressive, and I normally delete those unread.

But I can’t help but look at the women sometimes, and I really don’t understand how that’s any different than the videos she and I both watched together the night we did the Clone-a-Cock. I honestly thought we were on the same page here, but judging by the tears in her eyes, we’re not. Shit.

“Those mean nothing, Evie. The sole purpose is to get off. It’s not real. It doesn’t matter. It’s just porn.”

“No, this isn’t the same thing as scrolling through PornHub and clicking on videos. Those women specifically get naked for you. They’re looking at what you post and referring to it and getting off to it and talking to you.” She shakes her head. “This is not normal. In a normal relationship, when a man gets naked pics from another woman that she takes for him, it’s called cheating.”

She did not go there. There’s no way in hell I’d ever cheat on her. Not after I’ve been cheated on.

Besides, she owns me. Doesn’t she know that?

“Babe, in the internet age, you get unsolicited pictures all the time. I’m sure if you check your Facebook messages, you’ll find unbidden dick pics.”

“It’s not the same thing.” She spins around in the chair and opens up the laptop again, then clicks and pulls up my messages. “You read these last night. You posted last night. Did you use these videos from these women propositioning you to get yourself off?”

I can’t deny it. I’m mortified, but I mean, who wouldn’t look? “Yes, but it didn’t mean anything,” I repeat.

She pales, and I hate that I’m hurting her, but I will always tell her the truth.

“Look,” she says softly, “I get that you look at porn. All guys do. Hell, I was there the day you streamed porn and made your dick clone, but this… this is different. I can’t share you with thousands of women. Women who are making porn just for you. Women who are propositioning you and asking to meet you.” She wipes a tear, and her chin quivers. “I don’t want an open relationship where you get off on everyone and the shit they say specifically to you. Where you belong to them instead of me.”

“You’re not sharing me. When I made that post, I was looking at a video of us, not anyone else. I mean, yes, I watched the other video, but I got off to you for the main event.”

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