All I had to do was open our bank account to find out the truth. The prompt waiting for my password and seven digit access code were the only protection our marriage had. Emiti tried not to watch me as I fumbled around our desk looking for my phone so I could synch the account.
Three years ago we'd lost our jobs and our health benefits. We didn't lead a lavish life but Emiti needed her monthly treatments from the specialty hospital and they were expensive. Traditional contract work wasn't enough to cover our expenses and her care so we had to get creative.
We tried a number of creative ways to earn money but the path that brought us the most success was fucking online. At the offhand suggestion of one of our fellow church members we studied every platform in homemade porn distribution. We had personality and were fun to watch so we made a go of it with an anonymous app. Our faces and tattoos were digitally replaced/hidden. Even after the healthy percentage of profits taken by the app Emiti said this was our best bet.
I trusted Emiti with all of our accounting details because she studied finance in university. She was the focused student and I was there to play ball. No surprise that this pairing became our online persona. Dumb jock and nerdy girlfriend. We aesthetically fit the stereotype and ran with it.
In the beginning we were a bit shy on camera - mostly missionary and a few handjobs. Then Emiti accidentally posted the night we fucked standing up. I was behind her and she was grinding on me like the stripper we both knew she could have been. The video ends with her quite enthusiastic orgasm and my hard dick menacing the camera. I must have turned off the recording while I was being silly so we didn't get the shot of me coming in her mouth. That's why we didn't plan on uploading the footage.
We assumed the spike in numbers was due to Emiti's exuberant performance until we noticed a trend in the comments starting with a well-known anonymous account that pondered the question, "Ladies, who will be woman enough to finish him?"
Over the next few hours we laughed as the video numbers kept trending up, but it was the next morning of DM's that had Emiti planning our next theatrical offerings.
We had instinctively prepared ourselves for the onslaught of pervy guys looking to pleasure themselves to Emiti, but the overwhelming response was of women who wanted to volunteer to 'finish' me.
So that became Emiti's directorial theme for the next two months: her uncontrollable orgasms and my unsatisfied dick.
In reality we both almost always came, but our edits had me stroking my still-hard dick while she trembled in her own disgusting satisfaction.
For six months we were doing incredibly well as women by the thousands waged online plots to see me come. In a stroke of genius, Emiti had replaced all of our early content with edits that removed my orgasms. My blue balls were becoming internet famous.
We watched as the eyeballs, comments and cash rolled in.
Until, like most things viral, it stopped rolling in.
Every good run comes to an end. This was ours.
While I focused on other ways beyond porn that we could earn money, Emiti was stuck on our viral success. For weeks she tried to reignite our fan base with videos of her neglecting my hard dick while she teased and stroked me. She wasn't going for humiliation but she thought that the real connection was the desire to solve my inability to orgasm.
While the numbers agreed with her in theory, the algorithm had moved on and we never saw those mountainous numbers we were getting early on.
But Emiti found what she looking for in the comments of loyal watchers.
"Maybe," Emiti slowly offered, "you could give some of them their wish."
My eyebrows must have hit the ceiling as I accepted in disbelief what she was proposing.
"Hear me out," Emiti said while she pulled my pants down. Whenever she wanted me to do something I wasn't excited about doing she would simply stroke my dick while she explained her request.
Worked every time. Every fucking time.
"I will reach out to some of the more articulate women in the chats and DMs to vet the serious ones," Emiti explained as her soft hands explored behind my balls. "I'll set the price astronomically high so you won't have to do it often and I'll meet them prior to the event to make sure they are your type and to collect the money."
I tried to process her plan but she'd moved on to a steady stroke and her head was lowering as though my 'yes' would trigger the jump from innocent handjob to finishing blowjob.
But this request was beyond average so my focus was more resolute. I wouldn't break that easily.
"So," I responded, "you'd be pimping me out."
My assumption was that my specific wording would conjure up an understanding of negativity and reluctancy but I couldn't have been further from the truth. I unwisely believed that the use of the root word 'pimp' would begin a dialogue.
Apparently, my statement was simply a confirmation because Emiti's reaction was "Exactly!" with a smile followed by T he most victorious blowjob I'd ever been given in the history of her conquering me.
Weeks later we'd booked our first client. While I cooked and cleaned Emiti corresponded with dozens of leads to find a few willing to pay heavily for the privilege of setting me straight. I laughed at the casualness with which she sold my dick to strangers.
There were the caregivers who only wanted to make me happy. There were the bosses who thought I was being mismanaged. And there were the curious who wanted to solve me like a riddle or a puzzle.
Emiti scheduled some from each column.
Day-by-day she would go meet with women to close deals while I hit the gym and ate healthy. We still filmed the occasional video but I worried that sex was becoming a little too mechanical between us as I began to receive direction in satisfying potential clients more than helping Emiti get her rocks off.
"Glynda is going to want you to pull her braids like this" and "Yula says she doesn't like her ass grabbed too roughly."
A couple of times I interrupted her during an explanation of how I was supposed to entertain a specific client. Before she could continue with her instructions I'd flip her over and fuck her from behind until she forgot what point she was trying to make.
"You always hated studying!" Emiti would bark back over her shoulder as I fucked her senseless.
We both usually came extremely hard from that bit if magic.
On the afternoon of my first appointment - Emiti chose afternoons because we fucked in the morning and made love at night so that was our time - Emiti had a nervousness I wasn't expecting.
"We don't have to do this, love," I told her as I stroked her knee. "I've lined up a backup job at the-"
But Emiti placed her finger over my mouth.
"This morning the client made an additional request at the last moment," Emiti explained. "She wants me to stay in the room because she's nervous."
