"Kyle?"

Stacy’s voice was still rough from sleep. She sat up in bed, blinking at the guy sitting at the desk with his back to her.

"Morning, Stacy," he said, turning around with a warm, slightly tired smile.

"Uhh... morning. What are you doing this early?"

She looked like a complete mess. Her dark hair was scattered in every direction. The oversized pink T-shirt had ridden up, showing a strip of her stomach, and the dolphin shorts had rolled themselves up high enough that the bottom curve of her ass was visible. She didn’t seem to notice yet.

"It’s not early. It’s almost 8:30," Kyle replied.

"8:30 already? I thought it was like six." She yawned and started fixing her clothes, then ran her fingers through her hair.

"You knocked me out pretty good last night."

"I should be the one saying that." He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little guilty.

"Also... sorry for making you stay over. I should’ve at least offered to drop you off before I passed out."

Stacy gave him a small smile.

"Don’t sweat it. It’s not like you’re a stranger to me."

’What does she mean by that?’ Kyle wondered. As far as he knew, they were still basically strangers who had only met the night before. All he really knew about her was what he’d seen on her profile and in their chats.

"That... makes me feel better," he said anyway.

"Anyways, do you want coffee? Or anything else? I can make it."

"I’d love a coffee. Black, please."

"Of course."

Kyle stood up and headed to the kitchen. While he was gone, Stacy’s eyes drifted to the computer monitor. There was a video playing, but the sound was going through his headphones so the room stayed quiet. Curiosity pulled her closer. She scooted to the edge of the bed to get a better look.

Then her eyes widened.

"!"

Her face went red instantly. It was their recording — the two of them from last night, clear as day on the screen. She was watching herself get fucked in 4k and for some reason it hit differently than any of the solo videos she’d ever made.

’Why the hell am I getting flustered? I’ve recorded hundreds of solos...’

She couldn’t look away. Her cheeks burned. A low heat started spreading through her stomach, and she felt herself getting wet just from watching. The dampness in her shorts was unmistakable.

’Fuck... what is wrong with me? Am I seriously getting turned on by my own tape?’

"Oh hey— taking a look at the recording?"

Kyle walked back in holding a mug of black coffee. He noticed her staring at the screen and paused.

"Eh— yes. Just... checking it out," Stacy said, voice pitching slightly higher than normal. She looked completely flustered.

’Did I mess something up? Why is she acting like that all of a sudden?’ Kyle thought. He still wasn’t great at reading women, so he assumed the awkwardness was his fault somehow.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, handing her the mug.

"No— no. I was just looking and got surprised, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong." She took the coffee and quickly pulled herself together, forcing her professional face back on.

"That’s good. Do you want me to do anything else besides blurring our faces? Any other edit ideas?"

"No. Just hide my identity. That’s all I care about. Everything else is fine."

"Alright. I’m planning to split the whole thing into four parts. People won’t watch a full two-and-a-half-hour video in one go. Shorter parts should get more views."

"Sure, go ahead." She took a sip of the coffee.

Kyle hesitated, then asked, "Also... did you make food for me last night?"

"Yeah. I put it in the fridge so it wouldn’t go bad. Did it spoil or something?"

"Arrgh, I’m such a shitty host." He rubbed his face.

"I didn’t even realize you were hungry. You had to cook because of me. I’m really sorry for forcing you to stay overnight and then making you cook for both of us."

Stacy shook her head.

"There’s no need to apologize. It was my fault for not saying I came here on an empty stomach. And I already told you I felt comfortable here. That’s why I stayed. Stop overthinking it."

Her voice was soft but firm.

"...If you say so." Kyle still looked a little guilty, but he let it go.

---

Later that morning, Kyle walked her to the metro station. She was back in the same clothes she had arrived in the night before.

"I’ll be waiting for your next call," Stacy said, giving a small wave as she stepped toward the train.

"It’ll be pretty soon," he answered.

The doors closed. She disappeared into the crowd of the morning commute, and Kyle turned to walk back home.

When he stepped into his apartment again, the first thing he did was head to the kitchen. He washed his hands, pulled the container out of the fridge, and reheated the stir-fry she had made.

The smell hit him immediately — savory, a little spicy, genuinely good.

He took a bite.

"Damn... that’s delicious."

He ate like he hadn’t had a proper meal in days, finishing the entire portion without slowing down.

"Stacy should just start making cooking videos instead of porn," he muttered between bites, only half joking.

After he cleaned the plate, he pulled out his phone and sent her a message.

[Kylo_46: Hey... the food you made for me was heavenly. I swear to god I devoured all of it.]

The reply came quickly.

[Too.xpicy.4u: Thanks. I’ll cook more for you next time. Also, here’s my personal number. Message me there instead — I’m more responsive on it.]

They exchanged a few more messages on her personal number. After that, Kyle did the dishes, then went straight back to his desk. He still had to finish the first part of the video today.

---

Hours later, he finally stood up and stretched, both hands pressing into his lower back.

"Ahh, my back hurts..."

The clock on his monitor showed 6:07 p.m in the evening.

"How the hell did just blurring faces and making a few cuts take the entire day? My shift’s gonna start soon. What the fuck..."

He groaned, rolling his shoulders.

"Whatever. Let’s just upload the first part. I can complain later."

*****

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