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RoughingTheModel: I can understand that.

RoughingTheModel: Fuck. I’m close.

RoughingTheModel: I want to see you. Show me how you work that beautiful cock.

I desperately want to ask to switch to video chat, but it’s too soon. If we keep chatting, then maybe we can get together a little down the line. Right now, it’s photos and videos or nothing.

Fuck. No. Not nothing. I need this like I need my next fucking breath.

“Oh God, yes,” I moan when a video of him comes through.

My eyes lock on the way his hand is wrapped around his shaft, on the speed he works himself with.

And to my utter delight, he hasn’t muted the video, so I get all his incredible sound effects as he reaches the end.

“Fuck, yes. I’m gonna come for you. Are you gonna come for me?”

“Fucking hell, yeah,” I respond, despite the fact he can’t hear me.

I pull up my camera and switch to video as I race toward the edge. My release is right there, and I need him to know he was the one who got me there.

Fuck. I hope he captures the same footage for me.

I want to watch him come all over those abs.

Thinking of the mess he’s going to make for me is the final push I need, and I come with a loud groan, the camera filming every second of me spilling all over myself.

The second I’m done, I hit send on the video.

I collapse back on the bed, trying to catch my breath, and it isn’t until I hit play on the returning video and hear his voice that I realize I didn’t mute mine.

My panic lasts for a good minute or two, as I watch and rewatch the footage of HotScore doing exactly I was hoping. Ropes of cum shoot across his stomach. It’s incredible—so fucking hot that my dick threatens to go again.

It’s fine. He has no idea who I am, and I’m getting just a little taste of what I really need.

Plus, he seems to be enjoying himself, so I’ll take that as a win all around.

10

GARRETT

Iwalk out of the building and pull at my tie before loosening my collar.

What a fucking waste of my time.

I take off down the street, frustration bubbling over what a bullshit interview that was.

I had high hopes when I found the job ad online. But it seems they’re not looking for a strategist to help improve their business. They’re looking for a gofer. I am way overqualified to make tea and coffee and take minutes in a fucking meeting.

I have a joint mathematics and statistics degree from UCLA. I have almost a year’s worth of experience at my firm in New York, on top of the internships I did every summer while studying.

God, that makes me sound like a real jerk.

Numbers are my passion; finding patterns and creating theories are where my heart lies. Not in making fucking coffee for those doing the job I am more than capable of myself.

I shake my head as I take a left and march down the sidewalk.

It’s just your first attempt. You’ll find where you’re meant to be, a little voice tells me.