Page 12 of Sebastian

He nods and his gaze darts to the door, then back to me. “I, um, was going to work out—”

“Right, yeah, I didn’t mean to keep you.” I go to back away from him but Sebastian follows me.

He chuckles lightly and the sound tickles like I’ve swallowed a sip of bubbly.

“I was going to say that I don’t really feel like working out today. I mean, if you wanted to grab dinner or something?”

My brain latches on to the “or something” and takes off running. In one very specific direction. Where clothes are not required.

“Only if you don’t have other plans. Or if you want to. No pressure, of course. I just thought I’d ask.”

About dinner.

I push away the images of Sebastian naked on a bed, legs spread and cock hard. With how much I’ve been following him online, I know exactly what he’ll look like all sprawled out. But he isn’t asking to fuck, he’s asking about dinner.

“Yeah,” I say, hoping my voice is steadier than I feel.

“Yeah?” Sebastian’s eyes light up almost as bright as they were at the end of our one-on-one session. “Really?”

My heart races in my chest. What am I doing? I don’t normally have dinner with clients, but it is just dinner. There’s nothing wrong or illicit about that. Yet it feels like a fork in the road. Turn left and go back to my life as I know it. Turn right and who knows where the hell I’ll end up.

I should go left. My life is fine as it is and there’s no reason to go shaking things up now. But there’s something tugging me toward the right, like some invisible tether that’s slowly drawing me in Sebastian’s direction. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh. Um, I mean—” he points down the street, “there’s a place not too far from here that’s pretty good?”

I don’t care where we go, it really doesn’t matter so long as Sebastian’s there. Despite my better judgment, I’ve become ensnared by his allure. It keeps bringing me back to his OnlyFans page to rewatch video after video. It has me looking for him every day at Mars.

There’s something about him that’s undeniably attractive and for the life of me, I can’t put my finger on it. There’s no shortage of attractive guys in my life. Hot guys, cute guys, tall ones, short ones—Mars is full of guys who would drop their pants for me. Sebastian’s different from all of them though. It doesn’t make any sense—he just is.

The bar he takes us to is only a couple blocks away.

“You have no idea how surprised I was when I realized who you were,” Sebastian says after the waiter takes our drinks order. “I mean, sorry, we don’t have to talk about… if you don’t want to.”

“What? About porn?” I would’ve been more shocked if this wasn’t the first thing Sebastian brought up. “It’s fine. I don’t mind talking about it.”

He props his chin on his hand, grinning like a kid with a giant bowl of ice cream. “Yeah? Because I think I’ve watched every one of your videos.”

That’s… impressive. I’ve done a lot of videos. Some dating back to before Sebastian was old enough to even know what porn is. “Really? All of them?”

“Yeah, I mean, as many as I’ve been able to find. Unless you have some never-before-seen footage collecting dust somewhere?”

I chuckle, because there probably is, considering how much I worked back then. “I wouldn’t have access to any of that. It all belongs to the studios.”

Sebastian nods. “I always forget that.”

I lean my elbows on the table, bringing me closer to Sebastian and that hint of vanilla that my nose picks out from the stale scent of beer. “Forget what?”

“Studios. That they own the material you produce.”

“You’ve never worked with a studio before?” I think I know the answer already, but best not to let him know how much I’ve internet stalked him.

He shakes his head with a shy grin. “Nope. I’ve always been independent, running my own page. I do all the paid sponsorships and collaborations with other performers. But I get to control what I do and who I do it with. I might not make as much money this way, but at least I don’t have to answer to anyone else.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

Sebastian offers me a bashful shrug. “It is. But it’s all mine. I’m not at the mercy of some studio asshole who couldn’t care less about me.” He starts, eyes going wide, looking contrite. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with working for a studio. I know you were with studios for most of your career.”

If he thinks I’m offended, he’s got nothing to worry about. The big studios were indeed filled with a lot of assholes. “Only because there were no other options. Although, I don’t know if I would have opted to strike out on my own, even if there was.” I’m not nearly as entrepreneurial as Sebastian seems. It’s why I decided to work for Mars rather than run my own client list.

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