The next day, I returned to the gym. The heavy silence between Jess and me was palpable as I walked up. She had clearly compartmentalized my profession, keeping her training mask firmly in place. She kept it professional, guiding me through the sets like nothing had ever happened between us.
"Today we hit the upper body," she announced. "We need definition and power. This is about building the physique that looks as good as you perform."
The grueling session focused on building mass and explosive power for my back, shoulders, and arms—the parts the audience would see in close-up. We focused heavily on increasing the time under tension to maximize endurance. I pushed myself mercilessly, letting the physical pain burn away the anxiety. My muscles were screaming, but I was focused.
I thanked Jess after the session and started to walk away, but she called after me.
"Druski, you don't have to be weird or awkward about this, you know," she said.
I stopped and turned back. "About what?" I asked, though I knew exactly what she meant.
"About what you told me yesterday, of course," she clarified, watching my face intently.
I didn't answer her immediately. I looked into her eyes, searching for a slight flicker of judgment or sarcasm. There was none—just a calm, direct gaze.
"I didn't come here for you or anyone else here to judge me," I said, my Swagger kicking in to defend myself.
"Woah, chill, Uncle. Don't misinterpret me," Jess responded, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace. "You and I have something in common."
"And what do we have in common?" I pressed, curious despite myself.
She came closer, and the warm, expensive scent of her perfume washed over me. She was intoxicatingly fit, and I could feel my muscles momentarily weaken under the force of her presence.
"Yesterday you left before I could say anything," she whispered, leaning in. "When you told me you were into porn, I couldn't say anything back because I was shocked by your boldness. To say it so plainly, without shame. I was inspired..."
"You're still not telling me what we have in common."
She giggled and touched my chest—a proprietary touch—as if she was a child with a big secret she was now ready to share.
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper right against my ear. "You and I are no different. I know I might not look it, but... I'm a cam girl."
"Wait, you mean you're a cam girl, as in cam girl-cam girl?" I asked, completely blindsided. I stood there, trying to process the revelation, the post-workout adrenaline replaced by pure shock.
She looked at me as if I was being deliberately dense.
"Sorry... I mean, as in, you're involved in advertising your body on the internet?" I tried to clarify.
"What? You thought you were the only one? Poor Druski..." She reached out and lightly held my chin, a subtle, challenging intimacy in the gesture.
She drew away and studied my eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "Can I escort you outside?"
"Please," I managed.
We walked out past the reception, a few heads turning in our direction. I felt the familiar burn of envy from the men in the gym, now aimed at me walking beside this stunning woman. Maya winked at us as we passed the front desk.
Outside, we bought apple juice from a kiosk, walking in silence for a few moments as the reality settled.
"Aside from being a fitness bunny, I entertain horny men on the internet to make ends meet," Jess said finally, matter-of-factly.
"I thought the gym paid you handsomely?" I asked.
She sighed dramatically. "Yes, it does, but it's not enough to sustain a hot girl like me. I'm expensive, as you can see..."
She gestured down her body—the tight, athletic curves of her hard-earned physique emphasized by the gym clothes, the visible lines of her powerful legs, and the tautness of her midsection. Her body was a masterpiece of discipline, enough to make me unconsciously gulp.
"I have expensive tastes, you know. I'll let you in on a little secret: The gym is just a cover-up. I make significantly more money via webcams," she said, almost proudly.
"Why not get yourself a rich boyfriend? I mean, with your beauty and sexy body... any man can hardly resist you," I reasoned.
She smiled, a dangerous, self-aware smile. "I have tried that plenty of times, and the poor boys end up with broken hearts. I'm a problem, Druski."
I don't know why, but I think I liked this problem. I liked women that were impossible to deal with—the idea of exploiting them, taming them, and bending them to my will sent a thrill of predatory excitement through the new Druski.
"So you are single now?" I asked, the question laced with implication.
"Single and searching. I'm focusing on my craft. I have been thinking about going into sex work full-time. What you told me yesterday solidified my plans to transition into making adult films. I mean, what's left to hide? Most men on the internet probably know how my pussy looks, what color my bush is, and the rose tattoo on my ass..." she trailed off.
I could vividly picture her round, powerful ass, the delicate rose tattoo etched just above the curve of her hip. I felt a familiar, insistent twitch starting in my cock, a reaction to the sudden, raw sexuality of the image. No... no... not now. Focus on something else, I told myself sternly.
"I will be needing your help soon, that's if I make up my mind to finally do it," Jess said.
"What sort of help?" I asked, my excitement growing.
"Introducing me into the industry, of course," she said.
I nodded, unsure how to respond to the request.
Introduce her to the industry? I hardly knew anything about it beyond filming my own scenes, editing them, and posting them to the Hub. I had no contacts with professional pornstars, adult companies, or directors. I was essentially a self-publishing artist selling CDs out of the trunk of my car.
She correctly read my silence. "I don't expect you to give me an answer right now, Druski. You can take your time to think about it, of course," Jess said, offering me an out.
"I will consider it," I told her, knowing my answer would almost certainly be yes, but I couldn't commit right now. I had much more immediate, life-threatening issues consuming my focus.
"Good," she replied. She turned to head back into the gym, then paused suddenly. "Druski?"
"Yeah?"
"Which platform can I find your content?"
"Huh?" I was genuinely surprised by her serious, professional tone. She was doing research. "...XXX Global Hub."
She pulled out her phone and began typing. "And your user name?"
"Druski Hart."
She nodded, her eyes already scanning the Hub.