Filthy Friend - Gwyn McNamee

Chapter One

FLYNN

Shit. My dick might have looked better at that other angle.

The harsh glow from the computer screen and the dim lighting in the bedroom cast strange shadows the way it is now.

I lean forward to reset my laptop back to its original placement. From this position, my cock can really shine in all its glory, and that’s what everyone is here for—the perfect show. I grin as I stroke the hard length and comments spring to life across the bottom of the screen.

There we go.

That’s what I’ve been looking for.

About time HRD4U.

I feel like we’ve been waiting for hours.

Have you considered my offer to come take care of that for you?

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies…and gentlemen. I had another commitment before I could get online tonight.”

A string of hearts and smiley faces appear along the screen—the viewers’ responses to my apology. I really do hate to be late for my performance, but Rachel needed me, and I’m a sucker where Rach is concerned. She needs something…I come running, without a second thought. That’s what best friends do. And tonight, she needed her best friend’s shoulder to cry on. But now, it’s time to forget her dating woes and to make some other people very happy.

“So, what would you like to see tonight?”

I casually stroke my dick and slide my palm over the head, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my balls. A flurry of comments appears, and I try to read them and keep up while still focusing on the job at hand—or in hand, as it might be. Of course, this would feel a hell of a lot better if a certain woman’s smooth, soft fingers were wrapped around me, but that’s out of the question.

We’ve been best friends for too long, and she only sees me like a brother. The good girl from next door can never be anything but that. No matter how much I might wish for it. And fantasize about it.

We want to see you come.

Don’t tease us, HRD4U.

I want to see more.

I want to see your face. Tilt the camera up.

Nope.

That’s never going to happen.

In the almost year since I started doing the webcam thing, I haven’t shown my face or used my unaltered voice, and I don’t plan to anytime soon. The anonymity of being HRD4U allows me the freedom to do this and make some extra cash while still being able to show my face at church and Mom’s house. It also gives me an outlet for all the pent-up sexual frustration I have from being around Rach every day and not being able to act on my feelings for her.

It’s miserable, but I won’t risk our friendship just because I have a crush.

Fuck. Who am I kidding?

It’s more than a crush. I love her. I have since practically the day I looked out my bedroom window and saw her moving in to the house next door almost five years ago. It was more like attraction back then, but when we clicked and started hanging out together more and more over the years, it became something so much more. Something deeper. Something that eats away at my heart and soul every damn day.

Five years of being the “friend.” Of going on “dates” that aren’t dates. Of listening to her cry and complain about her shitty “boyfriends” when I know I’m the one who understands her and what she needs.

And that’s precisely what’s kept me from pursuing her.

Because she doesn’t want a guy like me—who watches porn, who likes rough, filthy sex, who lets strangers watch him walk around naked, and who jerks off to make money. She’d be sickened if she knew. She’d never talk to me again, let alone want to date me.

So, it’s this instead of being buried inside the woman I love.

My hand and an internet full of women—and men—who are willing to pay to watch me stroke myself.

When I’m like this, I am HRD4U—naked hunk with a magnificent cock. I can’t be Flynn McAllister, mild-mannered stockbroker and financial consultant, and do these things. Flynn would think about what he’s doing too much. Flynn would dwell on it. Flynn would let the Catholic guilt that’s been driven into him since birth eat away at him until he gave himself ulcers.

Which is why I’m HRD4U and try to push all of Flynn to the background during my shows—except Rachel. I can’t get her out of my head for any amount of time, and certainly not when I’m hard