That Time Pup Was Celibate For a Little Bit, Part Four

Pup and I started on this trend of getting together to study, flirting, and then parting ways before we did something regrettable. Usually, we went to a cafe or another neutral place, as if we were following those 1950s sex ed videos that tell you not to get alone in cars with the opposite sex. But, one night, he came to my house.

Halfway through, the topic of plot inconsistencies in porn came up and how that sort of stuff can ruin a perfectly good porn. So, I brought up an example and somehow we ended up watching it. You know. For research purposes.

The only problem was that I forgot how absolutely hot the video was otherwise, and so I’m stuck sitting there kind of awkwardly getting turned on next to a person I’m attracted to but can’t do anything with. We were mostly just talking and joking about it, but every so often we’d get really quiet when stuff got particularly hot. So, I’m trying really hard to behave and I was debating turning the thing off when thankfully Pup spoke up first.

“I didn’t realize men don’t actually hold off that long when I first started watching porn,” he said. We’d been speaking previously about starting a porn company and focusing doggedly on storyline in our videos, spitballing silly hypotheticals. 

“Duh,” I replied, “number one, it’s their job, so they master that shit. Number two, maybe there’s a fluffer?” I felt myself blushing and elaborated, “kind of always thought it would be hot to be a fluffer.”

“Yeah?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, like a universal one for a studio,” I said, kind of pausing a moment to gauge his reaction before continuing, “like just get tied up somewhere, have people come over and get themselves hard on me, you know.”

“Tied up like that?” Pup asked, gesturing to the girl in the video. She’d been secured on her back, thighs flat up on her torso, feet near her face.

I blushed. “Yeah, maybe like that.”

“I think you’d like that,” he teased. “We start making porn, fine, you’re the fluffer.

"Do you have any idea how wet I am?” I asked. 

Pup reached down the front of my jeans. He smirked and drew his hand back. “Pretty wet.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “Pretty wet.”

There was a palpable energy in the room, a full and heavy silence. We didn’t want to mess anything up by going too quickly. But, goddammit, tumblr.