🔞🍑 Lover

Your eyes swept over your screen as you looked at your OnlyFans dashboard. You told yourself you weren't the type to spend money on models, but one definitely stood out to you. AlphaAce was a gay pornstar who you had been following closely for the last couple of years. He was Latino with gorgeous tan skin with a hung cock to match. You'd been a loyal follower since your senior year in high school, which was a secret you'd take to the grave.

Years of predictable uploads had trained you to expect the usual. A new set, a new co-star, the same high-end polish. Today however, his newest post stopped you dead in your tracks.

“To celebrate reaching the top 0.01% of all OnlyFans creators, I will be hosting my first ever ‘Fuck My Fans!’ sweepstakes!  One of you lucky ducks is going to have a chance to film an exclusive video with yours truly! No scam, this is just your favorite daddy giving back to everyone who gives so much love and support to me <3”

You reread the post over and over again, and immediately followed the instructions to apply. You were thinking with your dick instead of your brain as you filled out all the questions. You looked at the confirmation slip that was emailed to you.

Weeks bled into months with no update or confirmation on the event. It felt scummy, even for the porn industry, and you’d spent the last few weeks nursing a bitter sort of resentment; you felt like an idiot for thinking that a popular gay pornstar would actually reach out.

You were back in your work office, staring at the stack of papers at your desk and the empty email you needed to write. The hum of the fluorescent lights was the only thing filling the room until the buzz in your pocket broke the rhythm. You pulled your phone out, expecting a spam call or a reminder, but the notification on the lock screen made the floor feel like it had vanished.

AlphaAce: Hey! You won the Fuck my Fans event! Are you available to fly out to LA and have some fun?

The message was quick, it was casual, unprofessional, undeniably written by Ace without proofreading or anything like that. This was 100% legit.

You struggled to reply, your dick was already starting to harden inside of your pants. You felt like a damn mess right now.

AlphaAce: Check your email for the flight info! I’ll take care of your sleeping situation too! You shouldn't have to worry about a thing. 👍🏽

You: Thanks. Still feels a bit surreal. I’ve been following the page for a long time.

AlphaAce: I know ;) I saw your joining date. You’re an OG. I’m kind of nervous tbh. I usually just work with other pros. Meeting someone real is way better. 🙌🏽

AlphaAce: Also, off the clock? It’s Leonardo. Or just Leo. 'Ace' is for the brand, but I hope we can get a little closer if you catch my drift ;)

Eventually, the notifications you received from him stopped being a source of panic and started being a shot of dopamine. You started to lean into it, realizing that behind the massive brand was a guy who actually seemed to be listening.

Leo: So what made you into my biggest fan, huh? 

Leo: like

Leo: What about me had you in high school sneaking off to the bathroom to rub one out to me? 😜

Your heart is hammering. He had actually looked at your join date and did the math. You typed, deleted, and typed again, your thumbs feeling heavy.

You: I just really like your appearance. 

Leo: Liar. Leo: It was my feet, wasn’t it? 

Leo: I can see your likes list, kid

Leo: Every time I post a close-up, you’re the first one there. 

Leo: I know I have some nice tootsies. 🦶🏽

You stared at the screen, the heat rising from your chest to your ears. There was no hiding it, he had the receipts. Before you could even think of a defense, the three dots appeared, dancing on the screen.

Leo: [Image Attachment]

It was a high-angle shot, clearly taken just seconds ago. He was sitting on the edge of a marble kitchen island, his legs stretched out. The lighting was natural, catching the arch of his foot and the tan lines from his flip-flops.

Leo: Fresh from the press. Just for my favorite fan. 💓

Leo: You still haven't answered the question. 

Leo: Is it the arch? Or the way I move them? 🦶🏽💦

You were about to type something incoherent when the next notification hit.

Leo: Actually, don't answer yet. 

Leo: Save it for LA.

Leo: I want to hear you say it when you're looking at them in person.

—

Later into the night, you received another message from Leo, and attached to it was a new video.

Leo: [Video Attachment: 0:15]

It was a vertical, shaky-cam video shot in a mirror. Leo was shirtless, his hair messy, looking less like a Greek god and more like a guy who had just woken up. He was brushing his teeth, leaning into the frame with a tired, genuine smile.

"Hey," his voice was a morning rasp, deeper and softer than it ever sounded on his videos. "Just finished a workout. Thinking about that flight tomorrow. Can’t wait to see you in person. Get some sleep, okay? See you at LAX."

He didn't end with a wink or a flex. He just waved, looked slightly embarrassed by his own video, then cut the feed.

—

The seal of the cabin broke, and the recycled air of the Spirit plane was instantly chased away by the heavy, sunbaked breath of Los Angeles. It was the golden heat that felt thick in the lungs, a tinge of ocean air and asphalt as you got up to deplane.

You had followed the stream of Disney families through the glass walled Labyrinth of Terminal 5, the hoodie that you had worn to your home airport already feeling like an extra layer of skin you needed to shed like yesterday. After three wrong turns and a dizzying descent down a crowded escalator, you saw him. He stuck out like a sore thumb to you.

Leo was leaning against a concrete pillar near the sliding doors. He was wearing a simple dark Navy tee that hung just right, fitted just enough to show the broad line of his shoulders without looking like he bought a size too small. He looked comfortable, anchored in the middle of the airport chaos, and when your eyes caught each, the image of Ace vanished behind a grin that was all warmth.

He opened his arms for you to come into, you did. His body had a clean citrus scent that was from a shower that morning. “Come on, man. Let’s get you out of those layers before you melt onto the sidewalk.”

He led you towards the parking structure, where his car was parked under the harsh white lights. A clean looking silver 2026 Lexus NX, basically a Toyota RAV4 that takes premium gas. It had that heavy prestige grill gleaming like it had just been detailed.

The moment he hit the key fob and the doors unlocked, the illusion of perfection dissolved as you climbed in. You noticed a stray protein shaker in the cup holder and the light dusting of sand on floor mats. It was a high-end machine but it was definitely Leo’s.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, tossing a rogue gym towel into the back seat as the engine roared to life. The A/C began hitting your face with a blessed icy chill. “I didn't have a lot of time to clean it this morning.”

Leo backed out of the space and sped off. You shared a comfortable silence as the local radio blared La Chona through the speakers.

You kept your head turned, eyes locked on the window. Los Angeles looked like a fever dream in wide-screen. The sky was a breathtaking blue, a sharp contrast to the gray skies back home you left that morning. The car passed by rows of palm trees that helped make the place feel like a giant resort.

Every few feet there was something new. A shop, a splash of neon, a crowded sidewalk cafe where people stood outside for hours for a matcha latte that had an ugly label on it. There was a sense of infinite life out here, a salty promise of the beach tucked somewhere behind the smog and the glitter in the air.

"First time in LA?" Leo asked.

His voice was different than it was on the screen, deeper, but still carrying that smooth, professional edge. He didn't look at you as he spoke; his eyes were hidden behind Ray Ban glasses, focused on the busy traffic of the 405 northbound.

"Yeah," you said. Your voice sounded thin, even to you. "It’s... a lot of trees."

Leo let out a short, dry sound, a grunt of amusement. "They’re mostly fakes. Half of them aren't even native. Just here for the aesthetic."

He shifted lanes, the silver Lexus gliding effortlessly between a beat-up sedan and a tourist bus. You gripped the armrest a little tighter. You didn't know this man. You knew how big his dick was, his favorite camera angles, and the sound he made when he was cumming inside a guy that looked kind of like yourself… but you didn't really know the guy sitting next to you.

"You're remarkably quiet," he noted, his tone neutral. "Most people usually start asking about the house or the videos by now. You like staring at the palm trees?"

"I’m just trying to make sure this is real," You admitted. You risked a glance at him. He looked like one of those guys on Instagram who sold you a $200 course on bodybuilding. 

"And.. that you aren't going to drop me off in the middle of the desert and leave me for snake food."

Leo finally cut a look towards your direction, the corner of his mouth twitching upward for a fraction of a second. It wasn't a friendly smile; it was the look of someone who knew exactly how much power he held in the moment.

"The desert is a two-hour drive from here," he said, turning the wheel as we hit the off-ramp toward the hills. "Too much gas. Besides, you're the big winner. It’d be bad for my brand if you went missing on day one."

The joke felt cold, calculated in a way that made your stomach drop.

Leo began driving on an incline, winding through streets that felt less like a neighborhood and more like a private botanical garden. You kept your eyes facing the window, expecting to see another tour bus, or a guy selling maps to Hollywood Boulevard.

“Isn't that… wait,  isn't that the place from that one sitcom?”  you asked, pointing at a sprawling white estate tucked behind a wall of perfectly cared for hedges.

Leo just grinned, his hand draped casually over the top of the steering wheel. “Probably. Everything around here has been in a movie at some point.”

You were busy trying to spot a celebrity through a gate across the street when you felt the car slow down. Leo pulled into a driveway that felt more like a gallery entrance. It was a sharp, aggressive piece of modern architecture. The garage door hummed open, revealing a space so clean it felt like a laboratory.

Leo shifted into park and pressed the ignition button. The dashboard lights dimmed, the AC gave one final puff, leaving you in silence.

You sat there for a second, your hand still on the door handle. “ Wait, are we just stopping for a view or..?”

Leo unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for his gym bag in the back. He looked over at you, that same, unbothered expression on his face.

“We're here, dude.” He said

He didn't wait for a reaction. He just hopped out, leaving you staring at the reflection of Los Angeles. He didn't just know people here. He lived here.

You walked inside, half-expecting it to look like a front page for Architectures Digest, with that perfect resale value, white walls, and plants.

In reality, you almost tripped over a foam roller.

The house itself was incredible, a wide open floor plan with a view of the canyon that probably cost more than anything you could dream of. But the prestige ended with the architecture. Before you stood a massive marble kitchen island, which was now the resting place for about 10 stray Fairlife drinks and those weird blueberry protein sodas Costco sells.

Over in the corner sat a desk and computer setup, the keyboard buried under a stack of unread mail. Over a couple grand invested into the computer, with giant monitors in what is most likely the “editing corner,” surrounded by a literal knot of tangled thick black cables.

Leo tossed his keys onto a side table that looked like it belonged in a museum, but it was currently holding a half eaten bag of Quest Chips.

“Sorry about the.. everything.” He muttered, waving a hand at the pile of laundry sitting on a designer chair. He didn’t look remotely embarrassed; it was just the state of things. “Lupe doesn’t come until tomorrow. She’s basically the only reason this place hasn’t been reclaimed by the HOA yet.”

He headed towards the kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoing on the polished concrete. “You want water or a beer? I think there's some of both in the fridge.”

Seeing a discarded gym towel draped over a glass railing that overlooked a million dollar view brought him right back to earth. He was a regular guy with a really.. nice landlord it seems.

Leo led you down a hallway that felt more like a gallery… if that gallery were currently being used to store Amazon boxes. He paused at a closed door on the right. Through the crack at the bottom you could see the glow of a professional LED panel.

"That’s the 'office,'" He said, his voice dropping just a fraction. He didn't elaborate, and he didn't open the door. You knew enough to know that was the money-maker; the room where the lighting was always perfect, the sheets were always crisp, and the version of Leo that the world paid to see lived and breathed. It was probably the only spot in the house without a stray chip bag on the floor.

He stopped at the next door and gave the handle a purposeful turn.

"And this," he said, with a slightly hopeful exhale, "is you."

It was a decent-sized room, and you could tell he’d made an effort. The bed was made, the hospital corners weren't perfect, but they were there, and there was a brand-new candle on the nightstand that hadn't been lit yet.

"I moved most of my extra gear out of here so you’d have some breathing room," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the wardrobe.

You walked over and tried to hang up your sweater. The closet door resisted at first, then gave way with a muffled thump of something heavy shifting inside. It was packed to the ceiling with "pornstar overflow", extra ring light stands, boxes of supplements, and what looked like a discarded velvet curtain.

A faint, unmistakable scent wafted out, a mix of cedarwood, laundry detergent, and that slightly stale "closed-off room" smell.

"Don't open that too fast or you’ll lose a toe," Leo joked from the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked at the room, then back at you, his eyes searching for a sign that he’d done okay. "It’s not the Four Seasons, but the pillows are fluffy. I checked."

You ended up in the room, a perfectly made black bed with nothing but the view of the hollywood hills and a computer behind the 3 cameras.

Leo looked at you, leaning against the frame with that practiced, predatory smirk.

“So, about that video...” he started, his voice a low, practiced rumble. “I know you’re a virgin and all, but are you still up for it?”

The question felt like a lead weight. You felt your heart start to rush, your stomach dropping at the prospect, Leo’s kindness to fly you out to Los Angeles and show you who he was behind the videos. You felt like a fraud for even being there.

"I... I'm frankly really scared to do this. I'm actually a virgin, and I just don't think I can film this," You admitted.

You opened an eye, you saw his expression drop but not in disappointment or resentment but relief. Relief washed over his handsome features as if he’d been waiting for an excuse to stop acting, his broad shoulders slumping from their rigid posture.

“Then we don't have to. At least, not this time.” He comforted, moving his hand to rest on your shoulder.

“Tell you what, how about.. since you clearly are having doubts..” You felt your face heat up as he trailed his gaze to the tent you pitched in your pants. 

“We can try some fun tonight with no cameras. You just enjoy yourself here with no pressure. Then later this week, we can see if you wanna film, deal?” he grinned, holding his free hand for a firm handshake.

You look down at his tattooed hand, then back up at his face, and firmly shook it. His palm was warm and inviting, putting you at ease.

“Deal,” You whispered.

He took your hand mid-handshake and walked you up the stairs and down the hallway, away from the sterile fuckroom and into a warmer area of the house.

You stumbled into his personal bedroom, your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

It was a spacious room with black accent walls and a gorgeous view of the Beverly Hills sprawl outside. The silhouettes of palm trees marked the deep blue of the night sky. A queen sized bed in the middle of the room. The clean gray sheets fitted onto the mattress, clearly made in order to impress you

Leo looked up at you with a charming smile, his eyes meeting yours. 

He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, “Good, you’re all mine then.” Leo purred, his voice smooth like velvet. "I'm so glad you won the chance to be with me today.”

Leo chuckled, it wasn’t that predatory kind you’d see when he was fucking a twink on cam, it was relief. He didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he used the grip to pull you into a tight falling hug that resulted in you resting on top of him. His guard was fully down as he leaned close to your neck, his stubble tickling your ear.

“Good,” He murmured, looking up at you with that smolder that you’d seen on camera a thousand times—except this time, it was just for you.

“Listen, you’re like.. In the best hands possible,” He said, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. “I’m like.. a sex expert. A Sexpert! It’s what I do and know best. Tonight, I want you to just enjoy yourself and let me handle everything else. Again, no pressure.”

He broke your gaze, looking behind him and toward the corners of his bedroom. “Look around. Do you see any cameras? This, dude, is just for us, ‘kay?”

He waited for that tension in your shoulders to finally melt. When you gave him a small breathless nod, he let out a low hum of approval. He reached out with his other hand, his fingers skimming the hem of your hoodie.

“You're bundled up like you’re going to the Arctic or something,” He teased, chuckling as he held eye contact. “Let’s just get comfortable, yeah?”

He moved slowly, deliberately, giving you every second you needed if you wanted to change your mind. His warm hands moved up your torso removing your shirt and hoodie in one motion. The cool air made your skin goosebump under his touch.

“You’re adorable, kid. So much potential for some macho muscles like these babies.” He shifted, flexing his bicep in a way where it was obvious he clearly wanted to impress you and you alone. His other hand moved down to your thigh, passing by your impossibly hard bulge.

“Is this how much you like me? You wanna show me more?” He smiled, looking up at you as you awkwardly started taking off your pants as he requested, including your underwear.

Your dick was out in the open, in front of your biggest porn crush of all time.

Leo chuckled, not in a degrading way, his voice was warm, inviting, and soft. He was looking at his most devoted fan’s proof of membership.

“Heh, hung as a horse, just like me,” He bragged, pulling down his pants to tease that cock you’d seen on camera so many times. In real life, with your very own two eyes, it looked like a giant fucking dildo was stuffed in his pants. He was definitely being humble, saying you were as big as him.

He watched your eyes widen at him and smiled. Fueled by your reaction, he rapidly shed the few remaining layers of clothing on him. His legs were decorated with muscles you didn’t even know existed. His thighs looked strong enough to crush a watermelon between them, an idea you kept in the back of your mind for next time. As you saw earlier, his shoulders were broad and his chest huge, his abs peeking from underneath his belly.

He reached out, giving you a hug while you two were now fully exposed for each other, skin to skin. He gave you a possessive squeeze, leaning in until his breath hitched in your ear.

"You have a thing for feet, right, chamaco?” His right hand trailed down to your thigh. “There's nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think we can work with that."

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flush hotter. "Yeah, yours are great."

Leo chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. "Well, how about I give you a little treat then?"

Leo pulled back, his warmth lingered on your skin. He adjusted your position, so you were down at your knees in front of him.

“Get on your knees for me, baby.” Leo commanded, watching you fall and look up at him.

“You’re so cute, open up.” He whispered. He lifted his foot, bringing it closer to your face. The scent of his skin, clean and masculine, filled your nostrils, your dick was twitching and leaking onto the floor.

 You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his big toe, your tongue darting out to taste his skin.

Leo let out a soft groan, his cock twitching in his pants. "Fuck, that's hot. You're a natural, kid."

He guided your head up until your nose was nestled in the soft, pillow hair of his bush. You inhaled deeply, the musky scent of his arousal filling your lungs. Your lips parted and you placed a trail of kisses along his hardening shaft, your tongue flicking out to lap at the leaking precum.

"Ohhh fuck, that's it," Leo grunted, his hips bucking slightly. "Suck my dick, baby. Show me how much you want it."

You hesitated, taking in the sheer size and sight of his cock in your hands. Leo was uncut, his cock was much darker than the rest of him, and his cockhead was a healthy deep shade of pink. His cock was hot in your hands. You needed both to cover his entire length, which he’d brag on video about it being 8 inches and thick.

You fianlly took him into your mouth, your lips stretching around his thick girth. He was bigger than you had imagined, his cock pulsing and throbbing against your tongue.

You bobbed your head, taking him deeper with every inch that passed your lips, your throat constricting around his sensitive flesh. His foreskin pulled back, the taste a rich flavor of musk and salty precum.

Leo tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your movements. "That's it, baby. Take my dick like the good little boy you are. Fuck, your mouth feels incredible."

After several minutes of slurping and sucking, Leo gently pulled you off his spit-slicked shaft. "As much as I love your mouth, I want to taste the rest of you."

He pushed you onto your stomach, his large frame looming over you. His hands slid up between your asscheeks, pulling them apart and keeping them spread with his calloused hands as he leaned in. You felt his hot breath on your moist asshole, and your body shuddered and puckered in anticipation.

"Fuck, you smell amazing," Leo murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin. "I bet you taste even better."

He leaned in, his tongue parting your hole and delving deep inside. You cried out, your ass pushing against his tongue as he ate you out with enthusiasm, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive skin.

"Oh god, Leo!" You moaned, your hands clawing onto the bed sheets, "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

He continued his sensual assault, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just as you were about to tumble over into ecstasy, he pulled his tongue back, a wicked grin on his face.

"As much as I love eating this sweet hole, I need to be inside you. I need to feel your tight little hole squeezing my dick."

He reached for a bottle of lube, slicking up his thick, 8-inch shaft. He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock kissing your fluttering hole.

"Tell me if it's too much, okay? I don't want to hurt you," he said softly, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

With a gentle thrust of his hips, he pushed forward, the head of his cock popping inside you. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your body instinctively clenching around the thick intrusion.

"Oh fuck, you're so tight," Leo grunted, his hips rocking slowly, working more and more of his length inside you. "Fuck, baby, you feel incredible."

He slowly bottomed out, his pelvis pressed against your ass, his heavy balls resting against your taint. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of being so utterly filled.

Then, he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. His thick cock dragged along your insides, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Leo's cock was hitting your prostate, making friends with it, knowing it inside and out.

"Oh god, Leo, yes!" You cried out, your nails digging into the sheets. "Fuck me harder, please!"

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more demanding. The room filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, punctuated by your moans and his deep, guttural groans.

"Fuck, I'm getting close," Leo panted, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "I want to fill this tight little ass with my cum. I want you to feel it dripping out of you for days."

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he found his release. You could feel the heat of his cum flooding your insides, marking you, claiming you as his own.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He peppered your face and neck with soft kisses, his hand stroking your hair tenderly.

"That was incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "You did so well, chamaco. I'm so proud of you."

He held you close, your bodies entwined, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. In that moment, you knew that this was an experience you would never forget, a memory you would cherish for the rest of your life.

It was all thanks to Leo, who had taken the time to make your first time special and unforgettable.

The sun was dropping behind the Santa Monica mountains, turning the hazy LA skyline into a bruised purple and gold. Leo handed you a cold Modelo, the glass bottle already sweating in the lingering heat. You two leaned against the glass railing, the type that made you feel like you were floating over the city.

For a long time, neither of you said anything. The hum of the city far below was just a vibration in the air.

"My parents are old-school Mexican Catholic," Leo said suddenly, his voice scraping against the quiet. His eyes resting on the lights of the city, "Burbank. We almost lost the house when I was seventeen. My dad was out of work, and my mom was praying every day, but that didn't bring cash fast enough."

He took a long pull of his beer and let out a dry, sharp laugh.

"I found this gay site. I knew what people wanted. I applied to make a countdown video. 'Barely Legal’ shit. It was messed up, I know. Some guy with a 10 incher coming onto me like 2 seconds after I turned 18, but I’m not gonna lie to you, dude, I liked the attention. I came so fucking hard, and I liked the two thousand dollars I made in two hours even more."

He gripped the railing, his knuckles standing out. The "aesthetic" physique you admired earlier suddenly looked like armor he’d built to keep the world at bay.

"I gave the money to my mom. Told her I’d been working double shifts at a warehouse. I got addicted to that feeling, being the one who could fix things. I kept doing it. More videos, more money. The house was safe. Everyone was safe because of me."

He finally turned to look at me, his expression unreadable in the shadows.

"Then they found out. They didn't care about the house anymore. They didn't care that I’d saved them. They heard 'gay' and they saw the 'sin' and they kicked me out that same night. I spent three months sleeping in a 2010 Corolla in a North Hollywood parking lot."

He gestured vaguely at the sprawling modern house behind us, the glowing "content room" just visible through the glass.

"Consistency and pure, dumb stubbornness. That’s how I ended up here. A stroke of luck, maybe. But I never stopped filming. I figured if the world was gonna judge and hate me anyway, I might as well own the view."