7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Emil

I’m no stranger to fucking. I’ve done a lot of it here at the studio. I’ve been railed over countless surfaces, had sex that’s slow and sweet, had plenty of dicks in my mouth and ass and in between my thighs. I’ve had to wash cum out of my hair more times than I can count.

There’s not much I haven’t seen or done.

But as I watch Raylin give Christian a touchup in preparation for our very first live video together, I’m hit with nerves like I’ve never experienced before. I don’t know if it’s him or the upcoming scene, but my heart has been beating heavily since the moment I walked through these doors, and I’m already descending into that foggy place where everything shuts off and I lose any and all control over rationality and reason.

There are plenty of people who enjoy being watched. Who enjoy exhibitionism. But not all of them feel a near desperate urge to have others present when they come. Not all of them would do just about anything to make that happen.

When I started seeing my therapist, worried about where my impulses might lead me, she suggested I find a safe way to explore my kink instead of trying to shove it down. One that wouldn’t land me with a public indecency record.

I found Elite 8 Studios.

Inside these walls, I am safe. The cameraman, the crew, everybody here has consented to watching me have sex. It’s part of the job, and no one bats an eye. And it feels good . Every time I do a scene, I get high off the knowledge that people are watching. That, even later, people will continue to watch. Viewers will see my videos days, weeks, years later, and that fact gives me a thrill any time I stop to think about it.

But I have never, not once, felt like this on the cusp of filming. I don’t know if it’s the promise of live viewers this time around—knowing countless people will be watching me at the same moment I’m being fucked or who knows what else. I don’t know if it’s the idea that they’ll have a say in what happens to me. I don’t know if maybe it’s Christian himself—this man who’s been my personal voyeur for months, who I’ve gotten close to, who will finally be touching me for real.

I can’t say if it’s one reason or all of them, but I’m so far gone, I would drop to my knees right this instant if anyone asked it of me. I would do it for any member of this cast or crew, and I’d love every goddamn second. And I have done scenes like that before, where my costars took turns on me. Hot as hell.

But then? I was in control. I was doing my job.

Right now? My control feels nonexistent.

“Everybody ready?” Jerome calls. “We’re five minutes to showtime.”

Oh, God.

I give my boss a swift nod, my mouth running dry. My hands shake as I head to the refreshments table and grab a bottled water. The cool liquid helps a little.

“Hey. You okay?”

The softly spoken words come from Christian. I turn to find him watching me with what looks like concern. Fuck , he’s hot. The white, fluffy skirt. The belly chain he wore today that’s peeking out from below the hem of his cropped shirt. The subtle makeup and the dark hair that’s falling around his face, only adding to his allure.

I’ve never wanted someone to touch me as badly as him.

“Emil?”

“Fine,” I croak.

“Are you sure?” Christian asks. “If you’re not okay to do a scene today, we can call it off.”

I shake my head quickly and set down the half-empty water. I understand why he’s asking, I do. But his worry is misplaced. “I, uh… I’m good. But, uh…” I blow out a breath, and Christian’s concern only seems to grow. “I’m going to need you to take charge during this scene.”

“Do you have stage fright?” he asks.

I nearly bark a laugh. “No. Christian, I’m so turned on right now, I’m having trouble seeing straight.”

His eyes flare wide, and he looks me up and down, pausing at my crotch. My cock is rock-hard, tenting my jeans.

“I want this,” I make sure he knows. “I’m good, I promise. I just…”

“You need me to be the one making the decisions,” he says, stepping close. Close enough that I can feel his body heat. Close enough to smell the faint whiff of something minty and fresh coming off his person. “You want me to take charge so you can enjoy the fact that everyone is going to be watching you and wishing they were me.”

I let loose a breath.

“One minute,” Jerome yells. “Felix. Vixen. On set. Now .”

“Come on, Specs,” Christian says, grabbing ahold of my hand. “I’ve got you.”

And that, I believe.

Christian leads me over to the bed as the crew makes final adjustments. We sit beside one another, everything in me spun tight. I barely register what’s going on around us. My heart is hammering. Anticipation is making my limbs tingle. Jerome yells for places.

I’ve done this a hundred times or more. But this is different. Better. Intoxicating .

I think I’ve found my new addiction.

Jerome holds up his hand, and everyone quiets. He counts us in with his fingers.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One .

The light flashes red. We’re live.

“Hey, everyone,” Christian says from beside me, his voice pitched into something flirtier than how he normally speaks. “I’m Vixen. And this is Felix. And you are the lucky subscribers who get to watch us live. How are we doing today?”

The tablet next to us scrolls with text, and I’m thankful Christian is handling this like a professional because I can’t even get my eyes to work enough to read the messages.

Christian laughs, all light and throaty. “Well, thanks, BigBoy23. I like my face, too. Now I have a simple rule before Felix and I get started. Is everyone listening?”

Christian’s hand links with mine, and I blow out a breath, squeezing his fingers tight.

“If you’re a dick, I’m gonna ignore you,” Christian says plainly. “But if you’re polite, I might just take your suggestions. So are we going to be good today?” There’s a brief pause before he says, “Good. I’m glad we have an understanding. Now… Who wants to see me edge Felix so hard he passes out when he comes?”

Oh God.

Christian laughs. “I know, he’s damn cute, isn’t he? Come on, Fe. Let’s lose the shirt.”

Thank fuck Christian helps me because I’m not entirely sure I have full motor function right now. I glance toward the camera, eyes skipping to where Jerome is standing in the wings. He’s watching the feed from the tablet in his hands, and he looks up, giving me a nod. No one is holding up cue cards to redirect us, so I go with the flow, letting Christian tug off my shirt. He pushes me playfully onto my back and crawls over me, his eyes as dark as night.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he says, leaning down to kiss my collarbone. The next one lands on my chest, so very close to my nipple. “I’m going to let our viewers decide what I fuck you with.”

My head swims.

Christian kisses above my belly button before going on, his voice projecting enough for the boom to pick him up easily. “But I get to decide for how long. Lift your hips, Fe.”

I lift, and Christian tugs down my jeans. My cock is tenting my briefs, and I’m suddenly grateful Jerome told us to keep this video under an hour because I’m already desperate to come. Desperate for, fuck , anything.

“Ch—Vixen. Please .”

Christian flashes me a smile as he slinks up my legs, looking like a cat on the prowl. He slips his fingers beneath the band of my briefs, lips suspended above my cock. After an endless moment that almost has me begging— again —he lifts the material, but only enough for the end of my dick to slip free. He tilts his head just so, his smirk telling me he remembered what I told him about angles, and then he kisses the top of my dick.

I curse under my breath, hips hitching.

“BellyDancerBoi wants to see your cock, Fe,” Christian says, knowing what it does to me to hear that. God , he knows exactly how much that turns me on. “Think I should let him?”

I nod furiously, and Christian chuckles, finally, blessedly , slipping my briefs down my hips. As soon as they’re cleared, I spread my legs wide, past the point of caring how damn wanton I look.

“Should I let them pick a toy now?” he asks.

“Yes,” I gasp. Fuck . “Please.”

“Mm. You beg so prettily,” he practically purrs, palms slipping up my thighs. “They like that. So do I.”

Christian’s touch feathers away an inch from my cock, and I huff a breath.

“Turn over, Fe.”

I’ve never flipped so fast in my life.

Christian chuckles again, talking to the viewers. I miss most of it, my pulse heavy in my ears as Christian’s fingers drift slowly up and down over the backs of my thighs, occasionally brushing my ass cheeks. He shifts me slightly, giving my hips a small push, and I go where he tells me to, knowing he’s positioning me for the camera. The next second, something cool and wet slips over my asshole.

I moan, pushing back, and a small toy slips inside my ass.

“Fuck,” Christian says. “You’re ready, aren’t you, Fe?”

“Yes,” I pant out.

There’s pressure again, and another object slides in. Anal beads, I realize. He’s fucking me with an anal bead wand.

“He does have a gorgeous ass,” Christian says, pulling the second bead out before pushing it in again. It stretches my rim before settling inside, and he teases me with it for a minute. Eventually, a third bead joins, bigger than the first two. “They want to see you take all six, Fe. What do you think? Can you handle it?”

I nod against the sheets, not knowing how large the final bead is, but trusting Christian. He knows what my limits are, so he wouldn’t have chosen a toy bigger than I can handle.

“Want it,” I manage. “Fuck me, please .”

He teases me again, pressing, pressing, and then another bead slips in, stretching me wider. The tip of the toy is so close to my prostate now. I can feel it, brushing against me, as Christian fucks the fourth bead in and out.

“Another,” I groan.

“Look at you, Fe,” Christian says, slowly edging the fifth bead in. He pauses with it at the widest point, his hand skimming my ass. “They’re all watching you, you know. Every single one of them, waiting for your ass to swallow the toy.”

My pulse thunders, and I push back against his hand, needing it. “ Please , Vixen.”

Christian hums, the sound happy and light. He pops the fifth bead in, and I let out a breath. I know I should turn my head, not have my face planted in the sheets. And I should be talking more, interacting with the viewers like Christian is.

But all I can focus on is the sixth bead he now has pressed against the rim of my ass.

“You want this, Fe?”

“Yes. Yes . Please.”

Christian pushes the bead inside of me, pausing and reversing course before it can settle fully. He does it again and again before finally letting the sixth bead slip all the way in, my body holding it tight. His thumb brushes along my rim. “Gorgeous,” he breathes, the word making me tremble. “NotYourBoyfriend says you have the sweetest ass he’s ever seen. Should I fuck you with this now, show him how much you can take?”

I pull in a shaky breath. Expel it. “ Please .”

His palm slides over my ass, a gentle sign of approval. And then he starts tugging out the toy. Each bead stretches my rim before popping free, and only once the first bead remains in my ass does he reverse course. I grip the sheets tight as they slide back in, filling me wider, each notch of the toy a welcome jolt that sends heat spiraling through my body. When he gets to the fifth bead, he angles the toy down, and there . I groan, the first bead playing over my prostate as Christian fucks the fifth bead in and out. He pushes it further, giving me the sixth, and although it’s no longer hitting me just so, the width is greater, and that is just as good.

“How’s that, Fe?”

I groan something unintelligible, and Christian chuckles. He doesn’t stop playing with me. He alternates five beads, prostate, six, over and over again. My legs start to shake, and my balls are so tight against my body I worry I might not be able to hold off from coming for much longer. But Christian tugs the toy out before I can cross that edge, leaving me bereft. I curse, my cock painfully hard and ass far too empty.

“Not yet,” he says in a sly tone. “Turn over. It’s time for toy number two.”

I practically fall onto my back as I spin. I right my glasses, looking toward the tablet. The chat is filled with comments, more coming in every second. It’s dizzying in the best possible way, and I ache to grab my cock, to find some relief. But I don’t.

Christian continues to talk to the viewers, smiling at the camera every once in a while as he grabs a couple items off the foot of the bed. He’s shirtless now, although I’m not sure when that happened. My eyes dip down the planes of his torso, settling on the chain around his stomach, my own contracting at the sight. His skirt is bunched around his knees like a cloud, and I have the distinct thought that if he’s an angel, he’s the filthiest one I’ve ever seen.

Christian holds up a dildo, turning toward me with a grin. “We have a winner. Grab your knees, Fe. Open up.”

Holy hell.

“I’m not sure I’m going to survive this,” I mutter, although I do exactly as he requests.

Christian smirks, settling near one of my bent legs so as not to block my ass from view. He notches the dildo against me, his other hand brushing mine beneath my knee.

“You’ll survive,” he says, slipping the bulbous crown inside my body. I blow out a breath. “And just think, once this part is through, and you’re nice and stretched and ready to blow”—he edges the dildo in further—“I’ll fuck you while everyone is watching. And they’ll get to see exactly how gorgeous you are when you come.”

“ Fuck ,” I groan, my head arching back as Christian pushes the toy the rest of the way in. “Do it. Come on.”

His hand wraps around my cock, and I jolt. “Oh, Fe…” He kisses my knee, hand stroking once. “You forgot the magic word.”

I huff. “Please, you dick. Fucking fuck me.”

Christian barks out a laugh, and I have only a moment to marvel at the sound before he’s pulling out the fake cock and shoving it back in. I groan, holding my legs, keeping myself wide open as he fucks me over and over. I’m distantly aware of the fact that we’re still in the studio. That there are people all around us monitoring the shoot and making sure everything goes off without a hitch. I know I should be checking in, peripherally aware of whether or not Jerome is giving us cues, considering he can’t speak up during the lives.

But all I can focus on is the feel of that fake dick in my ass. At the energy in my body building and building as my orgasm draws closer. At chasing the motion of Christian’s thrusts so the toy hits right where I need it to. I’m close. So close. And I want to come. I want everyone to see it, like Christian said. I don’t care what that makes me—needy, debauched, a mess of epic proportions. I get off on it, plain and simple. And fuck.

I. Want. To. Get. Off .

Christian pulls out the dildo.

“No,” I groan, reaching for my cock.

Christian grabs my wrist, rolling over my body and pinning my hand to the bed. Slowly, he does the same with the other. His eyes are vibrant, his skirt settling between us as he grinds his cock against my own. I squeeze my eyes shut, chest heaving.

“Felix.”

I open my eyes.

“Can I fuck you now?” Christian asks, his tone serious. It’s only then I notice how flushed he is. His cheeks. His chest. Probably his dick, too, although I can’t see it.

“If you don’t,” I say slowly, “I will be extremely upset.”

His lips curl into a wicked grin. “All right, Fe. Let’s show your fans how well you can take my cock.”

Oh fuck .

Yeah. Call me an addict.

And Christian?

He might just be my new drug.