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get a close-up of the parts she really wanted to see. When the music was finished, I typed a quick message of thanks. I confirmed the money had been paid and I closed the laptop.

I grabbed my water bottle and drank the whole thing in one gulp. I was tired as hell. I looked at my banking app on my phone and was pleased with the number I saw. I had made $3000 today. Not bad.

I grabbed my clothes from the floor and picked up my laptop before turning off the LED ring light that I used for filming. I quickly left the room, closing the door behind me. I showered and dressed before sitting down at the computer to go through my upcoming calendar and to read feedback from my sessions.

I fire up the VPN and open up the admin page on my website that I use to control my bookings. I had dances lined up for the next month. I recognized most of the names as repeat customers. Jill had already sent me a message thanking me. Telling me how amazing I was. Begging me to let her see my face next time.

Because these people may see my body, but I was very careful they would never, ever see my face.

I had to be careful. I had almost lost everything once; I was much smarter now.

Sex work wasn’t something to be ashamed of, but in my other profession, the image was everything. And a jury and judge could be swayed by the news that one of the attorneys strips in his spare time. People could be really fucking judgmental.

They wouldn’t bother to know the real reasons I continued to take my clothes off so many years after doing it the first time.

When I first started at The Landing Strip back when I was in law school, I saw it as a temporary gig. A way to make extra money to help pay for school and to take care of my family. I figured once I became a bigshot attorney, I’d be able to give it all up.

What I hadn’t anticipated was how much I got off on the thrill of it all. Or how expensive my brother’s care would become the older he got.

I wasn’t dancing in my birthday suit for my benefit. Well, not entirely. I was doing it so my brother, Sam, had the best possible care. And even though I made good money at the firm, it wasn’t enough to keep my mother and brother comfortable and living the life I felt they deserved.

I had gotten in way over my head in my pursuit of the all-mighty dollar. When Tiffany found me and introduced me to her world, I had been in awe. I was making so much money that I was able to pay for law school out of pocket, with no loans. I bought my mom a house and I was able to comfortably make the mortgage payments as well as pay for my brother’s residential care. Hell, I even rented myself a fancy apartment in the city. I was making so much money I never thought there could be a downside.

I was an absolute idiot.

And when I got out of the business, I lost all of that monetary stability. My mom almost lost her house. My brother was going to have to move to a state-run facility. I couldn’t have that. So, while Adam, Jeremy, and I were building our firm’s name, I started stripping again. Only this time I was doing it under a cloak of anonymity. I had a friend—another one of Tiffany’s boys who had decided to leave her to employ around the same time I did and was a whiz with technology—build me a secure website where I could offer my services. He taught me how to hide my IP address. How to blur my face. How to stay under the radar so that no one would ever know who I was.

I was able to start once again earning the kind of money I had become used to. Sure, it wasn’t on the level it had been when I worked for Tiffany, but it was a start. I became a cam-boy. And while performing over the internet didn’t quite provide the thrill of dancing in person, it was good enough. And I was able to take care of my family. Which was the most important thing of all.

If people knew, they’d probably wonder why I didn’t find another way to make money that didn’t involve letting strangers ogle my junk for five-hundred dollars a go. I’d say to them, you find me a job that gives me the flexibility to make that kind of money on my downtime.

But it was a secret. My secret. And one that I didn’t plan to ever share with anyone. I guess that made me a little mysterious. Slightly reclusive. Jeremy and Adam joked about how boring I was. How I never went out on the weekend. How I was always the first to go home from a party. If they only knew that all those times I bowed out of going to the bar it was so I could go home and show my cock to women for money.

I almost wanted to tell Wyatt, just to see the shock on his face. That maybe boring Robert Jenkins wasn’t so boring after all.

But they could never know. No one could ever know.

Living a double life had the unexpected consequence of not being able to really get involved with someone on an emotional level. Because how could I tell a potential girlfriend that I couldn’t see them on the weekends because I had to take my clothes off for other people? I didn’t think too many women would be okay with that.

That is what ruined whatever had been building between me and Skylar. And that was the one major part of this that really sucked because I liked Skylar Murphy. I really did.

It had

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