Page 1 of For the Cameras

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CHASE

On the day I met Adam Dix, I didn’t know I was going to meet Adam Dix.

In fact, I was watching one of his videos online that morning, edging myself for as long as I could before I had to finish and go to work.

Adam’s voice came through, deep and velvety even from my little laptop speakers as he talked throughout the video in his irresistible, addictive way:

“I wish this was your hand, instead,” he said, stroking himself before letting out a deep sigh that almost made me blow.

I gripped myself hard, knowing I couldn’t edge myself for much longer.

Adam Dix was an amateur in every sense of the word—this was one guy filming videos of himself on his cell phone camera at home in his bedroom. Not some grand, overedited production. And that was the way I liked it. Adam was a relatively unknown creator on the OnlyShots website, and he’d never shown his full face.

I liked wondering who he was. Part of me got off onnotknowing, even though I was so curious it drove me crazy.

He bit his bottom lip in the video and panned the camera back down lower again, pumping himself with his fist like I was doing right now, too.

Adam’s videosalwaysdid it for me.

And I was about to blow.

I shifted on my seat and right as I was about to lose control, my front door buzzer rang out, filling the air. I jumped on the chair, broken from my Adam Dix trance.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as the buzzer rang out again.

It was the world’s most heinouslytimed alarm.

I loosened my grip. Reluctantly.

I had no idea who the hell would be at my door this early on a weekday, but I had to get to work anyway. I had no time left to waste drooling over Adam’s latest upload like I was some sort of animal. I closed the lid of my laptop, shoved my pants up, and grabbed my bag, hauling ass out my apartment door in a rushed daze. I looped down the stairs that led to the street and opened up the door.

I squinted in the morning sun, looking down to see a pink envelope resting on the red brick outside the apartment doorstep.

Nobody was outside.

The envelope had my name written on it and was sitting next to a single red rose. Beside them both was a colossal plastic cup of iced coffee, dripping with condensation in the summer warmth.

My chest tensed. Something told me that there wasn’t going to be anything good contained in that envelope.

I picked it up and tore it open, finding a handwritten letter inside.

Chase,

Our time together has been nothing short of beautiful. You’ve opened my soul, in a way no words could express. But as I leave Colorado, some doors opening means others have to close. I’ve decided not to return.

But remember: no one has ever sucked me off like you do.

Loveliest wishes, Victor

PS. Enjoy the coffee. I know you like them iced, sweet, and bigger than your head.

“Fuck me,” I said under my breath.

At least Victor had said I sucked good dick.

I reached for the coffee, taking a long sip through the straw. Icy cold and ribboned with cream and caramel, just the way I liked it. A squirrel running by on the sidewalk took one look at me before he ran away, too.