Sex Sessions: After The Cut (Camera Tales #2)

by Charisse Spiers

  I glance at Tynleigh and Meg, both urging me to give it a whirl. I turn around until I'm facing the mirror. I freeze, taking in the person before me, unfamiliar in the current state. The person before me isn't a girl, but not quite a woman; instead, transitioning from one to the other. She's beautiful, confident, and even though she's still finding her way, she' s sure this is what she wants.

  A tear falls as I realize I'm about to get married without my parents being a part of it. I always envisioned this day as something happy for everyone, not just me. Even in all of the times I wanted to hate them for making moments of my life hell, I still wanted them to be happy for me, experiencing the special moments in my life with me. I never wanted this alone.

  Lyrics from a song I haven't listened to in years recalls from my mind so easily: I'm not a girl, not yet a woman by Britney Spears. "There is no need to protect me. It's time that I learn to face up to this on my own."

  With or without them, I will find my own way. I'm not a little girl anymore that they can bully. I'm grown, and I'm in love. This is what two people do when they fall in love. They get married. They spend forever together. My parents should be proud of the person I'm becoming. I may not have done things along the way that they would have wanted me to do, but I followed my heart, and that's something worthy of recognition.

  Tynleigh places her hands on the outside of my shoulders and rubs up and down, looking at my crying eyes through the mirror. "Are you okay? Is this a good cry, a bad, or an, I'm not sure? Do you need me to clear the area for a girl chat? Talk to me."

  I shake my head. "Just thinking of some unfortunate circumstances, that's all."

  "Do we need to talk about it? I'm your sister now. We can talk about it if you want."

  I smile, loving her all the more for playing along with my pity party. "It doesn't matter. It's in the past and only adds storm clouds to a sunny day." I rub my hands down the sides of my dress. "This is the one. I love it. How much?"

  She shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. Sprout is paying for it."

  I shake my head with power behind it. "No. He's not paying for my dress. I'll pay for it."

  "I was under strict orders. You aren't paying for it. Trust me, girl. If a guy offers to buy, you so kindly say thank you and continue on your way. He sent his credit card. Keep your money."

  I huff. "What is the point in working and showing my body and all of my private moments to the world for money if I'm not going to at least spend some of it? It's stupid for the groom to pay for your wedding dress."

  "Let me show you something," she says, and goes for her phone. "Read this."

  Sprout: Make sure she gets the best, T. I don't care what it costs. She deserves the best. I want her to have the best. She's my world, and by marrying me she's giving me the world, so make her the happiest girl in this world. Please, T, for me. I know she'll try to get something cheap. Money means nothing on forever. Make it a good one.

  My teeth lock together as more tears inch down my face. "Why is he so good to me?"

  "Because he loves you, Kambry. Love makes people do crazy things," she says sarcastically. "Like buy his girl a wedding dress to walk down the aisle in. The insanity. The madness."

  I laugh. "You're being such a bitch right now. I thought we were having a moment."

  She smirks. "Someone has to mentor you and lead you into womanhood." She winks. "Tough love, cupcake. Let him buy you the damn dress and enjoy it. Save your money. I'm sure he has his reasons that we don't understand. Besides, you still have to buy his ring."

  My eyes widen. "Shit. I totally forgot about that. I don't even know what size he wears. What am I supposed to do, Tynleigh?"

  "Well, for starters, I guess it's a good thing he's meeting us at the jewelry store after lunch then, isn't it? He probably doesn’t even know what size he wears."

  "He's meeting us?" Excitement floods my body. My cheeks tighten.

  "Oh my god. You two are ridiculous. I can't handle this shit."

  She walks off. "Hey. Where are you going?"

  "To pay. Get dressed and she'll bag it on a hanger for us to take. Don't forget the shoes."

  I glance at Meg. "We aren't as bad as she makes us out to be."

  "That huge grin tells me that isn't true, but just own it. If you have that kind of relationship with someone, I think it's pretty rare. If I were you, I'd show it off every chance I got." She smiles and grabs her purse from the couch. "I'll catch you guys later. Have to get back to work. Took a long lunch for Tynleigh. It was nice to meet you, Kambry."

  She turns and walks away, leaving me all alone. I breathe deeply, studying myself in the mirror once again before I change. She's right. I found my person. That's something worth showing off every chance I can. In a few short days I'll be Mrs. Saxton Maverick Cambridge. I'm leaving behind Kambry Rivers forever. I squeal, and then glance around to ensure no one heard me. I'm in the clear, so I scurry off before I make a fool of myself.

  Who would have ever thought running away from my small town in Alabama would lead me here? Already in the short time since I left, I've become a west coast girl, met the guy of my dreams, and I've taken on New York. Best damn decision I've ever made . . .

  Chapter Twelve

  Kambry

  MirandaNLance08: Love your post! Keep blogging.

  Henry145: I'm salivating, man . . . Damn that pussy looks tight.

  SexKittenAfterDark: Reblogging! Follow me back please . . .

  SinisterSlave: If I were to come to New York, would you give it to me like you're giving it to him? Don't wear it out for the rest of us . . . Look like a whore, smell like a whore, act like a whore, and you pretty much are a . . .

  "Fucking asshole!"

  Tynleigh stops and grabs my arm, stopping me too. "What's wrong? Did Saxton say something?"

  My eyes gloss over. I feel like someone took a knife and slashed open the top layer of skin just enough to cause pain, kind of like a paper cut. "No, it's this guy."

  She looks confused. "What guy?"

  "He's commented on our blog post before and he did again. I recognize his username. I don't get why he's still looking at our stuff if he doesn't like it."

  "Blog? What blog? Kambry, what are you talking about?"

  I look at her, and then breathe out in frustration. I can't really start a movie in the middle and expect the other party to know what's going on with the plot. "Sax and I, we created a couples blog on Tumblr . . . Promise me you won't judge me, kay?"

  "Just for the record, I can't imagine anything being more extreme than filming porn for a living, and I'm totally okay with that in this circumstance that you two are in, but I promise not to judge regardless. You have my word."

  I pause for a moment, taking time to prepare for the length explanation ahead. Okay, here goes . . .

  "Well, I kind of missed filming. I can't really explain it. I've tried to reason with my brain on numerous occasions and make myself see that this isn't normal; to want to show our most private moments to whoever is willing to watch it, but each time it does no good. I still want this part of life with him. Maybe it's that I like showing the world he's mine and I'm his. Sex is art just like anything else; at least it is to me. As long as it's respectable then I don't see the wrong in it, and he's the only one I want this with. Then again, it could be that I was sheltered for so long that I just like being a rebel against society and conservatism: the things that kept me locked behind my parents' doors to begin with. I know some people will hide behind their judgments and view me as a whore, but whatever. Those people probably don't know how it feels to never get to really live and make mistakes for yourself. I do. It sucks. And Saxton being the truly amazing man he is, offered this as a middle ground: Tumblr. He explained it to me— couple blogging— and showed me how to use it, and I like it. We can post what we want and keep private what we want. The control is ours. We've made a few posts— sexual and appropriate— and I find that aside from him, the highlight of my day is reading the feedba
ck from our posts and posting new things. But still, even though I don't care about others opinions, words still hurt. I will never understand cruelty. We live in a complex world, mixed with so many cultures and views on right and wrong. Beliefs and morals differ from person to person. Why make someone feel like a horrible person because you don't agree with what they're doing? It's mean. What happened to the phrase, if you can't say something nice then don't say anything at all? Just go elsewhere if you don't like our lives or us. Ya know?"

  She holds out her hand. "Give me your phone, but prepare it for a comment reply so that I can't actually witness my brother having sex. There are just some lines you don't cross and that is one."

  "What are you going to say?"

  "Don't worry about it. Just do it. I'm sick of fucking douche bags. They exist everywhere and thrive off of being assholes."

  A nervous feeling begins in the pit of my stomach, but I do as she says. I hate controversy. I hate drama. I just want the world to live in peace. I could totally be a Miss America participant and actually be truthful on that question. World peace is what I would wish for.

  She takes my phone from my hand and her fingers begin typing at a rapid rate, faster than I can text or type on touch screen, then holds it out for me. "There. If he has any decency at all he'll get off your page and feel like the jerk-wad that he is. Don't sweat the small stuff, babe. Only you and Saxton know what kind of relationship you have, and that's how it's supposed to be. The only opinion that matters is the other person’s. A little lesson: when you're in the public eye, whether you be a writer, actor, painter, singer, or pubic figure of whatever kind, people love to tell you how they feel, especially when it's negative. They hide behind their computers like armor and talk shit. If you're going to live this kind of lifestyle you have to toughen up that skin of yours, because you'll have followers but you'll also have haters, and the haters are more verbal than the lovers. They are so unhappy in their own pathetic little lives that they want to try and bring others down instead of grabbing life by the balls and making their own better. You know what I mean?"

  I take a deep breath and take my phone back, glancing at the comment reply that was already posted. "Yeah . . . "

  Sax-Kam reply to SinisterSlave: Hey, baby balls. Just because Mrs. #IGetFuckedWithASmallDickDaily is unhappy with your teeny tiny penis and makes you aware of it regularly, doesn't mean you can be an asshole to the rest of the world. Hell, maybe it's the other way around and you're fucking #LooseyGoosey, wishing you had some of this. Whatever the case may be, if you don't like what you're seeing, get THE FUCK off this page. You know what they say . . . #JustSayNo to bullying. #CyberSurfResponsibly. Always use protection so you don't have to worry about nasty shit rolling off the tongue, because if not . . . two can play this game, bitch. Fuck on.

  I glance up at her, trying to lock down the smile from occurring. "You were that girl in high school, weren't you?"

  "What girl? I have no idea what you're talking about."

  "The mean girl."

  "I wasn't mean . . . to innocent people."

  "Same difference."

  "Whatever. Bullies deserve to endure the same internal pain they wreak on others. My tolerance for them is below zero."

  "Regardless of the reasons for your awesome comebacks, I loved it. Thank you. I wish I held that skill like you and Meredith."

  "Who's Meredith?"

  "My best friend. Her and Bry— Never mind. She's dating my brother. I think the two of you would click if you ever met. Your personalities are on point with each other's. It's almost a little scary to imagine the two of you in the same room."

  "Ha! Well, I'm always game for new cool people. We're pretty much here. Do you want me to tag along or do you want to do this couple style? I can always go to work for a few hours."

  "Either is fine. I'm not picky. We're the guests here, so I wouldn't want to order you to do one or the other."

  Her mouth moves from side to side, kind of like when you swish with mouthwash. "I think I'm going to sit this one out. Go on . . . The two of you need some time alone to actually experience an adventure . . . outside of my apartment." She smothers a laugh. "When the hormones settle what remains is life without rose-colored glasses. Learn to love the simple things together just as much as the chemistry."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah, girl. I would just be in the way. I really need to show my face at work anyway. In the life of New York careers, there is always someone waiting to take your place if you can’t step it up and go the extra mile. That's my motto and it's paying off. Getting there is a breeze. Keep walking straight and take a right on the corner of that floral shop up there. You won't miss it once you do. I'll see you guys back home."

  "Okay." I start to walk but stop a few steps up from where she's standing and look back. "Hey, Tynleigh."

  "What's up?"

  Her hand is already held high standing on the curb. "Thanks for taking me today. It was fun."

  "You don't need to thank me. No family of mine is getting hitched in New York without some decent threads." She winks, something she does often. "Besides, one of these days I'm counting on payback."

  I smile, my heart fluttering in my chest from the constant state of happiness lately. "Absolutely. I'm your girl."

  A cab pulls up and she opens the door. She nods her head for me to go. "If I had to bet on it he's already there. Make him a little nervous but not break a sweat."

  "Okay. Bye."

  She quickly gets in the cab and slams the door shut behind her. I continue in the direction we were already heading, following her instructions. When I take the corner, I notice Saxton sitting on a metal bench outside of the building it's resting against.

  I stop. I just want to watch him for a minute. He hasn't noticed me yet. He's bent over, his forearms resting on his thighs, and staring at the ground between his legs. His heels begin tapping up and down against the cement in a steady rhythm, as if he's keeping a beat in his head. In that position his arm muscles are putting on a show. I love that boy. Lord knows I do. I don't even understand it fully myself. There is just something about him that has always entranced me. He grabbed my heart right from the shelf it was on and took it for himself. That right there is my life in one picture. He's my future, my forever.

  I pull up the camera on my phone and aim the lens at him, zooming a little to get a better shot. It takes a second to focus, but I touch on his body to speed it up a little. He glances the other way, the back of his head facing me. I wait for the perfect moment without making myself obvious, even with the constant traffic of people bypassing me.

  Just before his face is fully facing me I snap the picture, and then pull up Tumblr to make a quick post with the photo.

  I found the sexiest man today venturing down the streets of #NewYork. Cute guy, sitting outside of a quaint little shop all alone . . . There has to be a #story there. #APennyForYourThoughts? I wonder if I would look like a total nutcase if I went up and sat beside him. Reckon he has a misses? #FullThrottleLiving #iThinkiMight #AKissForKeeps #GonnaPutARingOnIt #GottaMarket #Hesmine #SorryGirls But you can count on me for #StealingKisses —XOXO, Kam.

  Click here to view post.

  I post it and begin walking slowly, making an effort not to draw attention to myself just yet. He glances at his watch, and then laces his fingers together between his knees. I stop a few feet away. "This seat taken?"

  He glances at me, sliding in place the smile he keeps reserved for me. "It is now."

  I continue forward and sit beside him, resting my purse on my lap. We both sit back at the same time. He grabs my hand in his and we look at each other simultaneously. "How was dress shopping?"

  "Good. I think we found a winner."

  "I can't wait to see it."

  "Oh, speaking of. I have your credit card. You didn't have to do that, Sax."

  "I know."

  I roll my eyes. "Is that really all I get?"

  "Keep the credit card for right
now."

  "Not what I meant."

  "I know." He smiles. I smile. This is totally pathetic. I don't know how to step off the cloud I keep walking around on. My stomach feels like that of a new kid in a huge school.

  "How was boy time?"

  "Eh. Guys are overrated."

  "Overrated?" I laugh. "That bad, huh?"

  "Well, it would have been less awkward had I not been sporting a boner half of the time we were together."

  I laugh out loud. "I don't even want to know." I turn my body toward him. "No, that's a lie. I totally want to hear this story."

  "I was set up. Tynleigh kept sending me all those photos of you trying on dresses. I was picturing the afterlife."

  "Afterlife?"

  "Ya know . . . getting to remove it in our hotel."

  "Hotel? What hotel?"

  "The one I have reserved for our makeshift honeymoon until we can plan a real one. I'm not staying at my sister's apartment on my wedding night. I plan for things to be completely inappropriate, to have a noise complaint, and it comes with a bar and a Jacuzzi in the room." He flashes a cheesy grin and I laugh. I can't help it. Things can go from completely serious one minute to goofy the next, and vice versa.

  "So . . . What are your plans then? Get drunk and make out in the hot tub?"

  "Oh, baby, my plans are never that simple . . ."

  I think back on the lap dance in the bar, the bed in the nightclub, and the butt plug in his sister's apartment. "Touché, my love. Touché."

  There is a brief but happy silence between us. I glance to my side, watching a young guy in a prep school uniform walk out the door of the flower shop as it chimes with a bouquet of roses in hand. It places a smile on my face, knowing some girl is about to get a surprise like that to make her day better.

  Contentment— that's what this is. This is a time in my life when I don't want to rewind or fast forward. I just want to sit back and let it play, enjoying every second of it. "I'm sorry, Kambry."