Proxy Lovers Ch 02

Yes, a large penis is a curse. Primarily because modern clothing simply isn't designed for it. When your erection extends beyond your belly button, there are no pants in the world that will fit you comfortably. "But, Connor," you say. "Why do you have an erection with your pants on?" I don't know, maybe because I'm tired. Yeah, you know that thing where you get an erection just because you're sleepy? Hell. That is hell for a man with my size of penis in polite society.

Imagine being 21 years old and a regular distance runner. You're in shape, you're young, and your parents host galas on a monthly basis. Then, some 40-year-old divorcee who wants to donate more to starving children than she paid for plastic surgery this year (for tax purposes) decides she wants to see how a boy like you reacts to her newly enlarged tits and freshly tightened belly. She gets you on the dance floor, in your well-fitting (but not fitted) tuxedo, and the DJ hits y'all with that one song from 'Carmen', the opera.

It's hell! Technically, the second circle, but it feels lower. This cougar is in a dress that has to be removed with solvent and covers less than 50% of her body, and she wants to turn you on. Maybe she's actually hoping to take you home, maybe she just wants the compliment; but either way, her goal is your erection. Meanwhile, you haven't gotten laid in two years due to a combination of needing to keep your grades up, working part-time for your parents, and the last three girls you took back to your room bailing on you.

Yeah, you've got an extremely horny older woman doing tango moves against you, and there's a part of your brain going "I bet your penis would fit inside her!" And maybe it would. She's got serious hips. But you know where that erection Ms. Parker of the Newport Parkers is grinding out of you won't fit? Your fucking pants!

Seriously, after faking food poisoning to get off that dance floor, I started attending my parents' fundraisers wearing a small condom. Flaccid, my penis can fill a small condom enough to keep it on. Once the blood starts flowing, that starts to hurt, and the hurt helps kill the erection. I also made sure to jack off before getting dressed and occasionally sneaking off to the bathroom for a second wank if temptation was high.

Like that time Sofia wore the backless dress. Sweet Jemima, that was hot.

So, why did I ever start dating a 5'1'', half-Asian girl with narrow hips? Didn't I know that my Salami of Social Awkwardness wouldn't fit inside her Lady Garden of Unending Delights? Of course, I did! I tried to fight dating her for months!

We met at a board game "club" that was really a covert dating meetup. Look, dating is hard. I did okay on Tinder, but I never managed to meet anyone fun. The women I was matching on Tinder were the sorts of women whose main pastime is filming themselves getting dressed, and their favorite hobby is getting expensive gifts. These women were, by and large, slumming it with me--a guy who can't afford $1000 birthday presents--because I had a huge dick.

Yes, obviously, that was in my dating profile. Yes, one of my pictures was me in grey sweatpants. No, not because I thought it would get me more dates, but because I was tired of getting a girl into my bedroom only for her to leave early or to have the most painful, consensual, sexual experience of her life. I'm not into being a bad time.

At a board game meetup, I could just talk to girls and not worry so much about being competitive. Sofia and I hit off right away! The chemistry was so strong, so fast, that other people at the table got distracted by it. At one point, Sofia got up to go get a drink, and I saw her hips. Her trim, narrow hips that I knew would never be compatible with me physically.

I tried to get away from her. I tried to talk to other people. But I was always drawn back to Sofia because it was just that good talking to her. Plus, the group had a really high turnover. Basically, no one came every week (except Sofia and me), so pretty soon we had a bunch of in-jokes and were the designated new-player-tutors.

After four weeks, people assumed we were a couple. After six weeks, I got up to use the bathroom and came out to find Sofia standing there.

"Are you married?" She asked before the men's room had shut.

"No," I said.

"Girlfriend?"

"No," I said before it occurred to me to lie.

"Gay?" She asked, squinting at me.

Now, it occurred to me to lie, but I feared consequences for that. "No."

"Then, what the fuck, dude?"

"What?"

"Why haven't you asked me out? You haven't even asked for my number." She said in a voice that was as angry and quiet as she could balance. "I'm out here in the lowest-cut tank tops I can legally wear in public, bending over the table to move pieces, and I can see you looking."

"It's very hard not to."

"Duh! That's the point. So, what's up?"

Now, I could lie safely! "I got out of a relationship recently, and I'm just not ready to start dating again."

She crossed her arms under her tits. Her hips she got from her mother's Chinese DNA, but her boobs came from her father's Swedish DNA. "Uh huh," she said, not quite believing me.

"Look, I really like talking with you, but I'm not ready for a serious relationship. I don't want to have a fling with you because of the good talking."

"I don't do flings." She said.

Women always say things like that. I don't know why. I just said I didn't want a fling, so she tells me that flings are off the table. Were you not listening? Sofia also once asked me to do the dishes while I was standing at the kitchen sink wearing rubber gloves. I don't know.

"I don't want a fling." I pressed on. "I want to sit and talk and make jokes with you." And that's when the honesty got away from me. "Getting to hang out with you at these board game nights is the best part of my week. Nine times out of ten, I would rather be talking to you than any of my other friends. When you were late tonight, I started getting depressed. I kept checking the door instead of playing the game."

Yes, I should have stopped there. No, I did not. You get it, though.

"I hang out with you like four hours a week," I added. "And somehow you're one of my favorite people, right now."

At this point, I regained the wherewithal to notice the expression on her face. It was the same look I would give her years later while standing at the kitchen sink holding up my hands in the rubber gloves.

"I..."

She leaned in with that look of "go ahead and say it".

"Would like to get dinner after this. You?"

"Yes," she nodded. "And by 'after this', you mean...?" Her eyes were looking a little dangerous.

"After we get our stuff and leave."

"Yes!" She did a little hop--which was a gamble in that tank top--and clapped her hands. "I'm gonna pee. Wait for me outside."

I did and she came down pretty quickly. I really thought she would make me wait, you know because I had.... You get it.

So, we got dinner and I walked her home and did not go in like she suggested. I did get her number and we started talking every day. Every. Day. Her board game club outfits got more 'conservative', so to speak. Just regular t-shirts, not 'my boobs are down here' shirts. We started getting food a few times a week. She started inviting herself over to my place on Saturday mornings and I started visiting my parents every weekend so that I would have to say good-bye by 4 p.m.

Another month of this and my dad took me aside. It was like 10 p.m. and we were sitting on the back porch sharing a beer and my dad goes: "What's wrong with Sofia?"

"Nothing," I said. "Why?"

"You are very clearly in love with this girl, and as much as your mom and I love seeing you every weekend, it's pretty obvious that you're just avoiding a girl who is by all accounts in love with you. Also, your mom looked her up on Instagram, so I know you aren't holding out for someone prettier. So, what's wrong with her?"

"It's not her. It's me."

"Hmmm," he said sagely. "You're too well-endowed?"

"Dad!"

"Where do you think you got it, boy?"

I chugged my beer.

"I won't embarrass you with the details," Dad started. "But it was a problem for me, too. I spent years being all anxious about it, but then I fell in love with your mother, and I thought 'I would rather have her in my life than ever have sex again.'"

"Really?" I said. (At this point, I knew about the swinging.)

"I really thought so at the time." He shrugged. "We made it work."

"Yeah, I've seen."

"Not the lifestyle; that happened a lot later. No. Look, they say good sex is 10% of a relationship, and bad sex is 80% of a relationship, but those words--good sex, bad sex--that's all in your brain. If you're in love, if you have a good and healthy personal relationship, you will find a way to make the sex good. Hell, good sex by anyone's standards is mostly the other stuff. Getting in there is overrated. Orgasms are overrated.

"Think about it," he went on as my face burned. "How many orgasms do you remember? When you think back on all the people you've been with, are the orgasms the part you think of? No! Okay, maybe there's one or two, but the good stuff is everything else. That's all I'm saying."

"That is not all you're saying." I replied.

"Nope," he laughed. "What I'm really saying is go home first thing in the morning and call Sofia and make it official. Your mom is going to be pissed if you let her get away."

I left first thing. Sofia had been inviting herself to my place, so I didn't call, just bought breakfast, and showed up at her door. Ten minutes later, we tried and failed to have sex. We talked for several hours, then had successful oral sex. We decided to go out for dinner. She stuffed a change of clothes into her bag and spent the night at my place, where we started developing our go-to move of just rubbing genitals together until we came.

It was good sex.

--------------

Sydney posted the video she and I had made that Saturday on the following Wednesday, and the BunnyCoupleOMG page blew up. Sydney markets way more than we do, so there was a clip making the rounds and a few stills. The video made a point of me being "borrowed," and Sydney talked a lot on Bluesky about how great it was and how much she hoped 'Mrs Bunny' would lend 'Mr Bunny' to her again.

That sent tons of people to our page. We went from 25 subscribers to a thousand overnight. I am the one running the chat because I figure I can handle dudes being weird better than Sofia. We had already made it so you could only message us for a fee to weed out the bad actors. But yeah, that first 48 hours after the xSydney video went live was crazy.

The number one question was "why don't you put it in her?" Our Reddit--the one social media we do--got a bunch of comments like "I don't want to see the guy's dick the whole time!" Fortunately, our pre-existing 25 subscribers were all from Reddit, and they did a lot of gatekeeping for us.

From a thousand, we went down to 300 by the end of the week. It is crazy watching an account subscribe, buy a bunch of our videos in the space of an hour, and then cancel the subscription. Post-nut clarity can be a bitch, I guess. My first thought was pirates, but I go looking for those sometimes and have yet to see more than two or three of our videos uploaded elsewhere.

That whole week, Sofia and I talked about where we went next. As the initial thrill faded, neither of us had any regrets. My curiosity about watching her with someone else dwindled a bit, but she was still excited to watch me again. We worked out a rule that, for example, I needed to "guest star" with two other women before I paid another visit to Sydney.

Sex with Sydney had been fun, but I was in pain until Monday. We talked with Sydney that week and it was all professional, so no one had caught feelings. That side of things was great.

However, I was hesitant to immediately go looking for another guest spot. We had offers, too. Three women and one man in the city all messaged us about "borrowing" me, too. My hesitance wasn't guilt, not really. It was imagining myself doing this regularly; making videos with other women for Sofia's enjoyment. I liked it, but it felt like something I was doing, not something we were doing.

I much preferred Sofia and me doing something together. That's what I wanted.

The next Saturday rolled around. We showered, we made a video, and we had breakfast. At said breakfast, we agreed that she should get "borrowed" next. I wanted to know what it was like to watch and I wanted this to be an us thing, not a me thing. We would take it all one step at a time.

The problem that immediately popped up was the OnlyFans ecosystem. Porn, at least the kind that pays, is dominated by a male audience. Something like 70% of the men active on OnlyFans in our city made gay content. Not all of them were gay, but sex with women was not part of their brand. Of the remaining 30%, about 20% made content for women or couples and 10% for men.

Sofia did not want to have sex with a woman, so that eliminated a ton of our options. Porn content for straight women, again in the realm where people make money, is heavy on BDSM. Roughly half of the straight, solo, male performers in our cohort are doms. They range from classic handcuffs and ballgags to the more psychological humiliation kink audience.

Three guys in our city specialize in cuck/Alpha videos. These guys bring in women, always masked, and have rough sex with them while talking about how impotent and useless the women's boyfriends and husbands are. Sofia laughed for a solid minute imagining doing a video like that.

I had started a closed Reddit group for OnlyFans creators in the city. Most of the posts were about problem users or general venting about the stresses of the job. People traded advice, and there had even been a couple of IRL get-togethers. Shortly after the xSydney video went up, a guy called TomDaPeeper posted a long thing about how guest appearances should have contracts, and the discussion led to us formalizing a pay structure for such things.

It's a cool group. Sort of an ad hoc union.

Tom did a lot of collaborations. Not just with women in the city, either. Dude traveled. He had just north of 100k subscribers and usually worked with newbies, helping them find an audience. Looking through posts on his socials, it seemed like a lot of his followers were subscribed specifically to find women they wanted to subscribe to.

As the name suggests, Tom does POV videos, so you never saw him above the belly button. He had a really average build and a normal-sized penis. According to him, looking normal was part of his draw. The guys watching didn't feel threatened.

Sofia and I watched all of the previews he had uploaded and then, for extra safety, subscribed for a month to see his full-length videos. He never did PPV, another thing he said was part of his success. Subscribers pay for PPV videos if they have a parasocial relationship with the performer, he thinks, and his deal is that guys pretend to be him, not talk to him.

Most of the messages he gets, he says, are women asking to be in his next video.

After all that research, Sofia decided that she wanted to be "borrowed" by TomDaPeeper. We messaged him, set it up, and now it's 8 p.m. on a Tuesday, and I'm cleaning the kitchen to get out some of this anxious energy.

It turns out, sending your wife out to have sex with another dude is scary. Not because I'm worried she's going to fall in love with him, because I'm worried he's going to turn out to be an abusive asshole. Seriously, as I am on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen grout with a toothbrush, my biggest worry is that Tom is going to murder her.

This is an insane fear. Tom travels around the country fucking women and recording it. Rarely the same woman twice, but still. If he killed any of those women, he would get caught so fast. Hell, if Tom was a serial killer, he would be using the videos to conceal the crimes, tampering with the metadata to make it look like he was boning some girl across town while the murder happened. But worrying he'll kill Sofia is just my brain taking the real fear to its utmost limit.

The real fear is that he's mean. He's not mean in the videos, but what if he is really good at negging? What if he uses a bunch of subtly backhanded compliments to make the women in his videos try harder? Maybe he's manipulative. Maybe...maybe I should just paint this fucking grout white.

I hear a lightsaber snap-hiss. That means I have a text.

I'm on my feet, ripping off the gloves and looking down at my phone on the counter. It's for Sofia. "Tom is in the shower." I open my phone. Three dots bounce in the corner. Ffkkshzwoom: "We just went over the plan and are about to start." Ffkkshzwoom: "I'm so wet already." Ffkkshzwoom: "I love you."

"I love you, too." I text back.

I'm not surprised she's wet. I was at three-quarters hard the entire drive over to Sydney's place, last time. Knowing with certainty that you're going to have sex is a hell of an aphrodisiac. Somehow that message cleared up the worry, though. I'm still an anxious ball of nerves, but now it's like when you're heading to the top of a roller coaster and you give little cheers or say lame shit like "here we go" just to relieve the pressure.

Holy shit, how do people do this? 'They don't' is the answer. This is why normal people swing. If you're swapping partners with another couple, you have something to do. Someone to do! Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. It's starting to make more sense why Sofia butt-fucked herself with a dildo while I was out. I have no idea what I'm going to do with this energy.

I don't want to come before they're finished, and I have the feeling that the minute I touch my cock, it's going to explode. Then again, maybe I would be so turned on I get two out of this experience. That's ridiculous; I'm 35. Shit, I should have jacked off before she left.

I start doing jumping jacks. I get through three before my 80% hard dick becomes a problem. Push-ups it is! After fifteen of them, my phone snap-hisses. It's a video from Tom.

Sitting on the kitchen floor, I open it. Sofia--in her Ariana Grande rabbit mask--is kneeling on the bed in one of her favorite lingerie sets. (She didn't let me see it before she left.) It's a bra, panty, waspy set that looks like nothing but straps. There's a chain that hangs between the cups that she usually takes off because it looks weird under clothing. It's the horniest lingerie she owns in the sense that I've never seen her wear it and not end up in our version of fucking.

I hit play.

"Hey, everyone," I hear Tom say. "I'm doing a meta thing today." Dude has a nice voice, soft but enthusiastic. The angle of the shot was per usual for his videos, but then it lowered. "Just kidding!"

I realize that he was holding the phone in front of his regular camera.

"I'm here today," Tom goes on. "With the mysterious and provocative Mrs. Bunny from OMG Bunny Couple."

"Yay!" Sofia does a quiet cheer. "It's BunnyCoupleOMG, though." She giggles.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Yes, BunnyCoupleOMG. But, yeah, Mr. Bunny decided to let Mrs. Bunny come and play with me, but he wants a preview. Can't blame him. So, you're going to see the phone make a few appearances in this video. That's just me updating the Mister."

"Hi, honey!" Sofia twiddles her fingers at the phone.

Then, the phone turns around, and I get a view of Tom. "Hey, Mr. Bunny, man-to-man, thank you so much for this. You are an absolute Chad. I'll send you an update as soon as we start having fun."

The video ends, and I'm left with the darkened image of Tom. He's giving me this really sincere smile while there's a GoPro strapped to his head on some kind of gimbal setup. I can also see a frame holding his neck steady that might actually be one of those braces they give people with spinal injuries. That's all very interesting. (I'm a dude. I like gear.) You wanna know what's more interesting?