Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“I liked filming you,” I said.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I liked it, too,” he said. “I never thought I would be comfortable in a million years with someone else filming me naked, but here we are.”
We devoured our pancakes in about two minutes. Adam chugged some water afterward, and we both washed up.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him as he crossed over and stood behind my couch, at the edge of the living room. His cock had gone down while we’d eaten, but even now I noticed how good it looked hanging between his legs. Thick. Long. Absolutely fucking begging to be in my mouth.
“Would you film me a little more?” he asked, a hint of the shyness creeping back into his voice. I could tell that after some food, water, and time, he wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as he had been before, and a bit more of his usual bashfulness was appearing again.
“You want to cook something else?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Not cooking. You could film me doing my usual type of content, or whatever you called it.”
I bit my lower lip, looking down and watching as his cock started to harden a bit more into a half-chub. “You want me to?”
His hand reached down and he dragged his open palm along his cock. It thickened under his touch. “I would like that,” he said softly.
Heat flooded through me. I reached for my camera, giving Adam a nod. “I can film you.”
He had unwittingly stumbled into something that had turned me on immensely. I had fantasized about filming my hookups and uploading their videos for years and years—but I’d never been with anyone who was actually willing to be filmed, especially if it was going to go online.
But Adam already did that, without my help.
I already knew he liked showing off online.
He was leaning back against the edge of my couch, his hand making a loose grip around his cock now. Adam was slowly starting to jerk off right in front of me. My own cock went from zero to sixty just about instantly under my pants.
I hoisted up the camera, nodding at him and hitting the record button.
He stroked himself for me—for the camera—slowly as I walked up closer and framed the shot. After a minute he turned and walked to the other side of the couch, sitting back and getting comfortable, like he did in most of his videos.
I kept quiet. I had no idea if he wanted me to say anything or make any noise, so I kept my breathing even, just watching as he stroked himself in the frame. I was so turned on it fucking hurt, watching him do what he did best, leaning back on my couch. Comfortable enough to do all of this in front of me.
I wanted to lean in and take the tip of his cock between my lips. I wanted to lick the glistening bead of precum from the tip and then suck it deep.
And I really, really wanted to hear the moan that he would make if I had him inside my mouth.
But I was here to be a cameraman.
I lifted my gaze from the back of the camera to his eyes, and as I made eye contact with him I watched his pupils widen, just for a moment. I saw him lick his lips the way he often did in videos right before he came, and I knew it was going to happen soon.
I kept my eyes locked on his. Surprisingly, he held my gaze, too, not daring to look away.
His gaze was blistering. I nodded at him, some small signal to him that yes, God, yes, I wanted him to come.
For me.
For the first time, I watched what Adam looked like when he came, in real life, while getting to see all of him. He groaned deeply, cursing softly under his breath as his orgasm came. He tugged harder on his cock and lost control, coming in streaks of white up his chest, his lips glistening and parted as he watched me.
I was fucking hypnotized. I was so turned on that for a moment I forgot about the camera altogether, letting out a satisfied sigh as my heart slammed in my chest.
“So fucking hot,” I murmured as I watched him. I remembered that the camera was still recording and then I looked down, turning it off. “Sorry I, uh, said that at the end. I can edit that out.”
“I came really hard,” he said, looking at the sheer amount of streaks all across his stomach, chest, and the back of his hand.
I set the camera down on the couch and leaned forward, sticking out my tongue and licking up a streak of white that was on the back of his hand.