Ginny poured a glass of water for me, then opened a bottle of white wine for herself. I couldn’t blame her. I was nervous, and I had done this before. Not to mention I was the guy in this situation. She was the one who was allowing a stranger into her apartment to discuss sex things.
“Thanks for trusting me,” I said while accepting the glass of water. “You’re the first woman I’ve worked with who didn’t want to meet somewhere in public first. Granted, I’ve only worked with two women in this capacity, but still.”
She sat at the two-person table in her kitchen, so I did the same. “You seem like the trustworthy type,” she said. “The recommendations from the other women you’ve worked with made me feel safe enough. Also, I slipped something into your water when you weren’t looking. You’ll pass out in five minutes before you have a chance to murder me.”
The joke caught me off guard, and I almost spit out my water from laughter. “Damn. Then I had better get my murdering out of the way before then.”
She giggled, but it seemed forced. She was definitely nervous, despite what she said about feeling safe. I couldn’t blame her.
There were three kinds of women on OnlyFans. The first kind danced around provocatively, showed a little nudity, but nothing more than that. Like a tame stripper. The second kind got more risqué. They got completely nude. They masturbated on camera. Sometimes they played with toys, or machines, or engaged in other fetishes that could be done alone.
Then there was the third kind. The kind who had real sex on camera with a partner. They made the most money,by far. It was basically live porn. But despite the jump in revenue, it was tough for women to make the leap. For one thing, finding a partner to work with was difficult. Most OnlyFans girls kept their work a secret, and didn’t want to tell their boyfriends. And even if they did have a partner in mind, the overall nervousness of working with someone else rather than alone took a lot of courage. Based on Ginny’s page history, I was the first guy she had ever discussed doing this with. Anything I could do to help soothe her nerves would be helpful.
I want to do more than just soothe her nerves, I thought while staring at the beautiful woman across from me.
“I’m Kai,” I repeated, putting a hand on my chest. “I’m twenty-seven, and live here in Fort Perth. Over on the west end of town, just across the river.”
“Oh, really? I assumed you were in Albuquerque, based on the last two women you worked with.”
“I drove to them,” I replied. “Not a lot of opportunities here. At least, until now. This is just a side gig for me. I have my own channel, as you probably saw. It’s not very big, and mostly caters to gay men.”
Ginny gave a start. “I saw you had a page, but I didn’t look very hard at who the subscribers were.” She leaned a little closer. “Are you… gay? Or bi? Is it rude to ask that?”
I gave her a disarming smile. “Not rude at all. I’m straight. But I don’t mind if another guy is getting off on my videos. It’s kind of flattering, honestly.”
“Especially if the money is good!” she said.
I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. “Exactly.”
She leaned back in her chair and sipped her wine. She already looked more relaxed than when I arrived. “I never imagined I would do something like this, believe me.”
“Hey,” I spread my hands. “You won’t get any judgment from me.”
“I kind of started it as a fluke. Got drunk one night and made an account. When I woke up the next morning, I had a wicked hangover—and four subscribers. It all kind of spiraled from there.” She swirled her wine around in her glass. “What about you?”
“My story is even funnier,” I admitted. “I lost a bet.”
She blinked at me. “You lost a bet?”
“Technically, it was related to the fantasy football league I’m in with some old college buddies,” I explained. “Every year, the last place person in our league has to do whatever the first place person wants. One year, the loser had to do ten minutes of stand-up comedy at an open mic night. Another year, the loser had to get a tramp stamp. Well, the year I lost, the winner made me create an OnlyFans account and do a 30 minute show with all the dances from Magic Mike.”
Ginny was almost doubled over with laughter now. “That’s amazing!”
“It was horrifying,” I replied. “I’m camera shy, believe it or not. But a bet is a bet, and I wasn’t going to chicken out. I did the video, uploaded it, and accepted all the laughter and ridicule from my buddies.”
She smirked at me. “And then?”
“And then I got a thousand views on the video, and a bunch of subscribers. I didn’t even expect to get subscribers, and I just set the monthly cost at like twenty bucks, but a dozen guys signed up anyway. I immediately created a new account that my fantasy football buddies didn’t know about, and messaged all my other subscribers to let them know about my new page. And the rest is history.”
“Okay, that’s even funnier than my story,” Ginny said. “None of them know you do it?”
I shook my head. “Thankfully, nope. I don’t think I would be able to do it if I knew my friends might be watching. Guys don’t make as much as women, in general, but I still pull in four or five grand a month from my individual page. Plus a little bit of extra revenue since I started joining other channels.”
Ginny was nodding along at this point. “Yeah, let’s talk about that. How does pricing work? I’m totally new at this.”
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out two folded pieces of paper. I slid one of them across the table. “I have a flat fee for each video I take part in. Additionally, I require ten percent of all video revenue. Only the videos I’m in, obviously.”
She picked up the piece of paper tentatively, like she was afraid of getting a paper cut. “Only ten percent? That feels like a steal.”