The Pizza Hut encounter with Morgan left me shaken, but life moves on. That’s how it works, one minute, you’re having the most awkward conversation of your life with your girlfriend’s coworker who caught you watching porn, and the next, you’re back in the comfort of your living room, pretending everything is normal.

    I adjust my laptop on my thighs, careful not to disturb Lana’s legs stretched across my lap. She’s scrolling through her phone, occasionally glancing up at the TV where “Love on the Spectrum” plays. Her fuzzy pink socks press against my side as she wiggles her toes absently.

    “This show makes me so happy,” she murmurs, not looking up from her phone. “Everyone deserves to find someone who gets them.”

    “Mmm,” I agree, but I’m only half listening. My attention is focused on the Discord message I’m typing:

    I hit send and wait, watching the notification my friend is typing almost immediately. Redheadloverx always seems to be online whenever I need to talk. It’s become one of the most reliable parts of my day over the past two months since meeting him through my stories.

    I snort at how close yet how far off the mark he is.

    Lana shifts on the couch, her legs pressing more firmly against mine as she finds a more comfortable position. She looks up from her phone briefly, giving me a soft smile that makes my heart do that familiar flip.

    “What are you grinning at?” she asks.

    “Just chatting with my buddy,” I say, nodding toward my laptop.

    She nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer, and returns to her phone. It’s strange how comfortably we’ve settled into this arrangement - me with my online life she knows almost nothing about, her with her work life I’m not supposed to ask about. Two people sharing a couch, sharing a life, with carefully constructed walls between certain parts of ourselves.

    I smile at my screen, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. It’s nice having someone to talk to about this stuff, especially a guy who gets it.

    I feel a twang of guilt. I’ve only confided in red about how I secretly write cuckold stories on the side to try to manage these feelings. The other Discord members think I’m just into femdom. It’s my way of processing, my therapy.

    I glance over at Lana, who’s completely absorbed in her show now, laughing quietly at something on screen.

    .

    I cringe at his phrasing, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Red has always been straightforward about his opinions on my relationship, never quite understanding why I’d put myself through the emotional rollercoaster of dating a pornstar.

    I sigh, glancing over at Lana who’s now completely engrossed in her show, oblivious to my digital confession session. Red means well, but he doesn’t get the full picture. Nobody does.

    It’s the same suggestion he always makes, delivered gently enough that I don’t immediately get defensive but firmly enough that I know he’s serious.

    I raise an eyebrow at the screen. That’s oddly specific industry knowledge for a random guy on Discord.

    There’s a longer pause than usual before his response appears.

    I stare at the message, blinking several times to make sure I read it correctly. It’s such an absurd suggestion that I can’t help but laugh out loud, drawing Lana’s attention.

    “What’s so funny?” she asks, looking up from her phone.

    “Nothing, just guy stuff,” I say, waving dismissively. She rolls her eyes good-naturedly and returns to her scrolling.

    I frown at the screen. I didn’t mean to dox her. Despite being close with Red, I keep my personal details private.

    I stare at the message, my mouth going dry as the visual floods my mind, Morgan beneath me while she moans on screen.

    I glance over at Lana, so innocent in her fuzzy socks, completely unaware of my depraved conversation. What would it be like? Watching Morgan get filled by another man while I’m inside of her? Or even better, being with Lana right after a shoot, her body still warm from another man, his seed still inside her, while we watch the footage together?

    Holy shit. My cock stiffens instantly at the thought.

    I shake my head, fingers flying across the keyboard.

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    I close my laptop with a sigh, feeling strangely conflicted. Red always challenges me in ways that make me uncomfortable, but he gets me like no one else does. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m too open with him, sharing fantasies I’d never admit to anyone else, but he’s just so easy to get along with.

    Lana shifts beside me, setting her phone down on the coffee table. She turns to face me, tucking her legs underneath her body. There’s something in her expression, a fidgety energy that catches my attention immediately.

    “Oh baby, by the way, tomorrow I have a podcast interview with Amber Silver.”

    “Oh yeah, I forgot,” I reply, vaguely remembering her mentioning this a week ago.

    Lana looks a little nervous, her fingers stroking with the hem of her shirt. “Do you care if I say I have a boyfriend? I really don’t want to have to pretend to be single.” Her eyes meet mine, vulnerable and seeking reassurance. “I really love you a lot, Adam.”

    The earnestness in her voice makes my chest tighten. Despite everything, her career, my jealousy, the complications, she wants the world to know I exist, that she belongs to someone. To me.

    “Of course, you can tell people about me,” I say, reaching for her hand. “I’m not ashamed of us, Lana.”

    Relief washes over her face. “You mean that? Because some guys in your position... they wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

    I think about it for a moment, scratching the back of my neck. The idea of being publicly acknowledged as her boyfriend makes my heart swell, but the thought of my parents finding out through some random podcast interview makes my stomach twist.

    “Maybe just don’t name me directly? I’m not really ready to tell my family.”

    Lana tilts her head, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. “Doesn’t Sarah already know?”

    “I mean other than my sister.” I fidget with a loose thread on the couch cushion. “You know how my mom is.”

    She smiles, a soft, understanding smile that makes me feel both loved and slightly ashamed. “Of course.”

    I nod, grateful for her understanding. “Thanks, babe.”