Page 1 of Something Spontaneous

CHAPTER 1

JOSIE

Do You Mind?

Whoever said ‘if you’re doing something you love, it’ll never feel like work’ was right. Well, mostly right. I don’t think they really had my chosen profession in mind, but it probably didn’t even exist when they said that, so I can’t hold that against them.

Yeah, I freaking love what I do. I make people happy. I make myself and other people feel good. I get to help people feel seen and unashamed for admitting what they really want on a daily basis. That’s why I love this job and even get off on it. Turning it into a lucrative business that lets me save money and live in my van—like the nomad I am—is just icing on the cake.

As much as I love what I do, it absolutely requires work. Every day when I’m on the job, I go through my routine to get ready.

Make sure my nails look good? Check.

Professional attire? Optional, depending on the customer.

Ring light to look good on camera? Check.

Backdrop that complements my complexion and makes my tattoos pop? Check.

Find a secluded campsite for my van so I’m not interrupted or distracted by noisy neighbors? Check.

Make sure I get along with my coworkers? I don’t know. Is kneeling over your coworkers considered professional?

I look between my legs at the purple silicone tentacle that I’ve been riding for the last five minutes, savoring every second while I push myself closer and closer to coming.

Maybe I could consider him a coworker? Octavius was definitely an expensive investment.

I specifically chose the purple toy with contrasting neon-green glow-in-the-dark suction cups because not only did it look cool, but I knew it would pop on camera, and my subscribers would lose their minds over it.

I’ve been quietly giddy about recording since I chose it out of my collection this morning for this video. I love pleasure and sensation—never shying away from trying new things or toys. I will admit, feeling each and every one of the little suction cups was a bit much the first time I used it. After a few times though, Octavius became my favorite. I just don’t tell that to my subs, because I was right—they are obsessed enough to pay me extra to fuck myself with it. The first content I made with it was so popular that it became Doc Dragon’s number one selling toy overnight and earned me a sponsorship.

So yeah, I guess I can sort of consider Octavius as an employee on my payroll. Looking down again at my now favorite coworker, coated in a mix of lube and my own arousal, I rock harder and faster, reveling in the sensation of the fantasy dildo plunging in and out of my pussy, feeling those little suction cups drag over my sensitive clit.

“Oh, fuck,” I whimper in my lusty, sultry voice that I use for my videos. “This toy feels so good, but I bet you wish you were here with me, don’t you? I know you wish you could feel just how wet I am.”

I want more, and I know my viewers will too, when they get to see this video.

I grab my mini wand from the bedside counter in my campervan and flick on the switch, bringing it to life. Two clicks later, and I find the deep, pulsing setting that I know will take me exactly where I want to go. The second the rumbling vibrator hits my aching clit, my pussy clenches around my dildo, and I let out a sharp moan.

I’m glad I’m kneeling on the bed in my van because my knees surely would have buckled—I’m closer than I realized. I bring my other hand to my breast, cupping it just right so I know it will look good on camera. It’s also for me; when I tug on the little gold hoop piercing on my hard nipple, my back arches at the delicious sensation. I whimper and rock up and down on the toy, feeling that tension pooled low in my core about to snap.

“That’s fucking it, yes. Just like that. God, I’m going to come so hard.” I circle the wand over my clit and bounce on the tentacle, bottoming out on it when a wave of pleasure crashes over me. I give in to my orgasm and let it rock me, basking in the warmth that spreads through my body with the release of dopamine. I’m pretty sure most careers don’t offer that as a benefit.

Yes, I love my job.

I never have to fake it. Embellish a little? Sure. Fake it? Absolutely not.

I think that’s why my OnlyVans subscribers like my content—being authentic sells. People want to see a glimpse into a real, fellow human’s life, even if through the carefully curated lens that I’ve used to build my faceless persona of Black Sheep Bunni. I’ve always been a black sheep amongst my friends, family, and even my hometown. Playing on my last name was a dark little twist—fittingly ironic because that name is what made me an outcast there eventually. I don’t think about that for long because I still have work to do.

My shoulders sag and my head drops. I lift my eyes just enough to peek through the strands of red hair in front of my face to make sure that I didn’t move enough to be in view of the camera. That’s the main reason I rarely record live. I am diligent to remain faceless, carefully arranging camera angles and poses to make sure my face is never in view. If I make a mistake in a video and bring my face into frame, I can edit it or blur it out later.

As much as I love living as a single woman in a van—constantly traveling throughout the mountains of the western United States—my anonymity is a necessity for my security and a personal choice I made a long time ago.

I’m not ashamed about what I do, but keeping that barrier between this life and my day-to-day public life is something I want. That’s why my van is a subtle dark gray, blending in with so many other adventure vans.

Once I make sure my face is still out of view, I take a deep breath and slowly collect myself. I ease myself off the toy, still enjoying the small bursts of pleasure when all those little rows of suction cups glide over my still, very sensitive clit. I can hear the sounds that I know will drive my subs into a frenzy for more.

“Oh my god. That was so freaking good for me. I hope you enjoyed that, because I know I did.” I flick off the vibrator and set it back on the table and grab the remote for my camera. “See you next time.” I make a lip-smacking kissy sound loud enough for the microphone to catch and shut off the camera.