Fall turned to winter. As the days shortened and grew colder Paul's apartment had become my home away from home. By nice coincidence, he lives closer to my workplace than I live so going to his place after work became routine, not to mention a logical move.
The sofa is a gray fabric sectional, as are the chairs on either end of it. The coffee table is triangle glass with a wooden base. A tall potted cactus stands beside the sliding door. The carpet matches the furniture. The place is tidy.
In Paul's bedroom his Mac Book sits on a desk under the window that serves as a home office for a copywriter. The dresser is situated against the wall on his right. The desk, the dresser, both nightstands, and the bedframe are all mmade of teak.
A cold night in November saw us sitting side by side on the sofa watching telivision. The 55-inch Samsung mounted above the fireplace hearth was showing a Netflix series titled "FUBAR".
In the series Arnold Swartzaneggar plays a CIA agent on his final mission. To his chagrin, he discovers that his daughter is working for the "company'.
Back in the days before Paul and I became a couple "Cazzo Grande" had spent many nighttime hours looking at the website titled "Chaturbate". I had created the screen name almost a year ago on a cold lonely winter night. So far posing naked is a secret that I've kept from my boyfriend.
On this night as we watched TV together I found myself secretly entertaining the notion to pose naked again. I can masturbate anomimously but what if I convince the boyfriend to broadcast the action with me.
We can lie on his bed facing his lap top on the dresser. My own bedroom allows a similar set up.
I moved closer to him on the sofa. With an open right hand I stroked his manhood lightly through his jeans putting a smile on his face.
"Someone wants sex tonight?"
I giggled and asked, "will he get any."
"He might," quipped Paul.
"Do you know the website 'Chaturbate'?"
"What's that?"
"People pose for tips. Sometimes couples and even groups are broadcasting."
"There's a lot of sites like that.
"People on 'Chaturbate' are not paid by a studio. They work from home for tips."
"Did you put a profile on that site?"
His question made me blush.
"You did, didn't you."
"I did," I replied.
Paul moved the lop top to the dresser and angled it to face the bed. Seconds later I began broadcasting naked from the end of the bed.
His gaze shifted from the video of a young man jerking off to live action seconds before I ejaculated.
I watched him get naked then turned around putting my head toward the head board. Paul knelt behind me rocking on his knees driving his thick cock in and out repeatedly with a steady rhythm. My hole tingled as it stretched to accomodate his tool. Grunts belied my pleasure as he hammered my prostate.
The fuck lasted only about two minutes though the camera kept running. We sat upright side by side placing our feet on the floor as hands closed loosely around each other's cock rubbing the organ slowly.
Meanwhile we both read the comments as they were being posted. Both of us knew that viewers were masturbating to our video.
Over the next several days I seriously considered moving in with him. I wanted to save on rent and bills as well as sleeping beside him every night. He lives close to Cleveland Clinc where I work.
A cold Saturday in December saw me working the weekend shift. I took a few X-rays, though not as many as I generally take.
