Chapter 6: 🌶️ Desires Entangled

A week later...

It’s late at night, but I’m still chatting with Emmy. Tonight, there’s a shift in the air—subtle, but undeniable. Our conversation starts out as usual, light and casual, but soon, we start drifting into more personal topics.

Emmy (message): “Sometimes, I feel like nobody really understands me. It’s like I’m constantly playing a part.”

Me (message): “Do you feel lonely?”

Emmy (message): “Yes ... and no. I have people around me, but I always keep a part of myself hidden. It’s exhausting sometimes.”

I can tell she’s more open tonight, more vulnerable. It’s as if the barrier she usually keeps between us is starting to crack. But part of me wonders if it’s real—or just another act.

Curious about where this might go, I decide to follow her lead.

Me (message): “I get it. I also find myself wearing masks, hiding parts of who I really am.”

Emmy (message): “Exactly. Sometimes, I just want to be myself without worrying about what others think.”

The conversation deepens, and Emmy opens up even more. She talks about her dreams, her aspirations, but also her fears and frustrations. I’m discovering a different side of her, a young woman carrying a heavier burden than she lets on. But somewhere in the back of my mind, a question lingers: does she do this with all her subscribers? Is it a way to create an illusion of intimacy, a means to keep me engaged, or is there something different about what she feels for me?

As we talk, I sense that Emmy is growing closer to me. She doesn’t say it outright, but it’s there in her words, in the way she reveals herself. She tells me about her life on ForFansOnly, about the interactions she has with other subscribers.

Emmy (message): “With you, it’s different. I’m not just doing this for the money. I really enjoy our conversations. You make me feel ... like myself.”

Me (message): “It’s mutual. I didn’t expect to find someone like you here.”

Her words get under my skin, but doubt lingers. Am I really different in her eyes, or does she say this to anyone who shows her a bit more interest? I can’t help but wonder if she’s as genuine as she seems, or if it’s just a well-practiced strategy.

A few days later, while we’re at the dinner table, Emma starts asking questions about hockey, which is unusual for her.

Emma: “Brice, I’ve always wondered ... How does hockey actually work? I mean, what are the main rules?”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised by her question. Emma usually doesn’t take much interest in what I’m doing on the ice.

Me: “It’s pretty straightforward, really. The goal is to score points by getting the puck into the other team’s net. There are five players on the ice per team, plus the goalie. Basic rules are kind of like soccer, just ... on skates.”

Emma: “But it looks so fast-paced, right? How do you keep track of everything without losing focus?”

Her tone is light, almost casual, but this sudden curiosity catches me off guard. Why the sudden interest in hockey when she’s never cared about it before? I can’t help but think back to my conversations with Emmy.

Me: “Yeah, it’s fast. But when you’re on the ice, it’s all instinct. You just know where your teammates will be, where the puck’s headed.”

Emma: “Sounds intense ... and complicated. So, are there a lot of people playing around here?”

Me: “We live in a big city—of course, there are tons of players around here. Why the sudden interest?”

Emma shrugs.

Emma: “Just curious.”

I smile, but a hint of unease lingers. Her sudden interest feels odd, but I decide not to push it.

That same evening, as I’m relaxing in my room with the house steeped in nighttime quiet, a notification from ForFansOnly suddenly lights up my screen. Heart pounding, I open the app to find a new post from Emmy. Eagerly, I tap to open it, and my eyes land on her, dressed in a tiny pair of shorts that leaves little to the imagination.

The tight fabric hugs her curves perfectly, each detail highlighted by the soft light in the photo. This kind of outfit demands attention—especially mine. A wave of warmth builds inside me, my fingers gliding instinctively over the screen, then onto my own body, almost unconsciously. Time seems to stop as I stare at the image, completely mesmerized by the sensuality she exudes.

Minutes slip by unnoticed, my mind fully surrendering to these thoughts, these images that continue to burn into my mind. An hour passes, maybe more, as I lose myself in silent contemplation, gripped by a tension that refuses to fade. Fatigue starts to weigh on me, but the intensity of my thoughts doesn’t weaken.