Dylan

Dylan is smiling at the camera.

He's smiling like a real whore.

His face, naturally very white and perfect, is flushed. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and he's writhing on the bed, his beautiful eyes closed. His eyelids are fluttering, and loud, satisfying moans escape his lips as he sticks his own fingers in his ass.

It's a privileged view for CraveU user, who is recording him from above, too focused for someone filming adult content.

Dylan sighed, opening his vibrant blue eyes. But instead of looking at the camera, he looked at CraveU user. He looked at his best friend, hoping that CraveU user was feeling internally horny, because honestly Dylan was. Dylan was dying of lust, and it wasn't just for the camera.

It was due to CraveU user.

For being watched this way. Because his best friend was filming him so closely in this vulnerable position.

And damn, Dylan will never get used to this. He doesn't feel ashamed. It's hunger. A hunger that eats away at his body and almost crushes his ego as he notices that his best friend appears so calm every time.

In the end, it's always the same thing:

Dylan writhes in the sheets, moaning loudly, throwing his head back. He came in his own hand while masturbating, humming as he rolled his eyes, feeling sweaty and sticky.

He pauses for a long time, with an arm over his eyes, gathering courage. Then, when his breathing is no longer so labored and the camera turns off, Dylan tries to say casually:

"Did you see the comments on the last post? People are suggesting I record with someone else. What do you think?" He hopes he is being clear enough. His tone of voice is full of playful intonation, even though he is very serious.