Page 2

CHAPTER 2

OSCAR “HONEY SIN” “OZ” LENNON

Ono Romeo

I’ll be checking in on Kala on Sunday and staying for a week. You still going to be there? Would totally love to do a collab. I know just the place!

I click the date and time to pull up the calendar on the computer. Sunday… sure. I write back.

Me

Sounds good. How about Tuesday at noon? We can meet at the Sandy Bar Mixer on Anopos. Unless there’s somewhere else you’d like to meet closer to this perfect spot?

Leaving the chat up in case Ono Romeo comes back online while I’m still here, I click through my emails and other direct messages on different platforms, making sure I don’t miss someone reaching out.

I always take care of work first. Honey Sin never rests, after all. That’s practically my motto. Thankfully, almost all platforms that I use have the ability to schedule out, which is fortunate. It allows me to remain “active” even while on vacation.

Considering summer vacation lasts for nearly three months and I spend that on the Isle of Kala with my husband, scheduling out is necessary. It definitely works out because I have endless opportunities for collabs here.

Being an adult content creator can be exhausting. It might look like a good time—sex all the time and posting thirst traps to direct people to the subscription platforms—but it’s far more complicated than that. You need to have chemistry.

There’s nothing I hate more than collabs that look like what they are—set up. There are a handful of content creators that I’ve scheduled within the past that I won’t work with again. Not because they weren’t lovely, but because our chemistry was shit and, in my opinion, it really showed on screen.

We didn’t get many negative comments, but I need to feel good about what I put out in the world. It’s there forever, after all.

There are also a handful of creators who constantly look fake on screen. One couple seems to have a very popular following of both haters and lovers. They’ve made it their brand to look at the camera with this “oh my god” face that is completely and very obviously fabricated. In every. Single. Video. Whether it be a tease or not.

I’m 100% not into that. Besides, I find their brand confusing.

Anyway… Sometimes, I feel like I work more hours every week at this job than I would at a “normal” nine-to-five. It just never ends.

A new message pops up from Ono, so I click over to look at it.

Ono Romeo

Sounds good. See you in a week.

I send him back a thumbs up before closing out of ShareIt DMs entirely. Last up, I log into my ReachMe account. Most of the time, I’m just making sure that what I have scheduled actually posts as it should. Technology is not perfect, and glitches happen far too often.

All my platforms know that I’m away for three months, so my responses to comments and messages will be much slower than usual. I generally glance through my DMs everywhere but leave the comments for another time. September is dedicated to editing new content that I’ve filmed over the summer on Kala and answering comments/DMs that I put off.

Everything looks good.

I smile at the little report telling me that the highest viewed and commented on video of the week is one with my husband. All of my platforms know I’m married and in an open relationship. There’s something about seeing my authentic relationship with the man I love above all else that must translate onto the screen because my audience eats it up.

While I’m always very careful to never show my husband’s face, it’s not necessarily a secret who he is. I’m a large donor to Rainbow Dorset University, where Alka is employed as a soccer coach. My creator name, Honey Sin, is on their homepage with all their other large sponsors, and I also attend all of Alka’s games.

Perhaps the biggest reason I’m often recognized at his school is because it’s the hub of LGBTQIA+ students and faculty. If there’s anyone straight who attends or works there, I’d be surprised. Which means, chances are, my face has shown up on their feeds. And my person shows up at Alka’s games, where we don’t pretend to be anything other than what we are—a happily married couple.

I never tease the videos with my husband. Ever . They can only be found on my ReachMe account. I employ a lawyer to do primarily one thing and that’s to search for any pirated copies of me and Alka on the wide web of porn sites and get them taken down. I don’t think he’d lose his job if someone brought them to the faculty. His face is never shown, after all. But I’d rather not chance his career .

Okay. That’s enough real-life work for now. I log off all the platforms then the computer. Time to get back into vacation mode.

As I leave the technology hut, I chant in my head the time and day that I’m meeting Ono. Without my phone to remind me, I’m liable to forget. That’s the trade we make for choosing the Isle of Kala for vacation.

The Isle of Kala is the ultimate gay resort. An island chain comprising of seven islands that are all owned by a single company. The family built the resort as an ultimate escape for themselves almost two decades ago when it was difficult to find a place where they could just be without suffering judgment from homophobes.

Its notoriety grew exponentially when the world started to learn about it, which also meant that something had to be done about the press sneaking on, trying to “ruin” celebrities who weren’t out.

The Isle of Kala is now completely technology free for all guests. The staff have hand radios to communicate, and there’s the ability to make purchases with credit cards, but otherwise, there’s no technology that’s not controlled by the resort.

There are tech huts everywhere that guests can stop in. They’re lined with six or eight private booths with computers that are free for use.

There’s a movie theater where we can watch television or movies on one of ten screens. There are hired photographers employed by the resort to take candid photos of guests and a place to purchase them at any time during your stay.

However, we are not allowed to have any technology on us at all, not even a smart watch, which means I’m going to be calling the concierge to schedule a Tuesday morning reminder about my noon meeting.

Every single person who steps foot on the islands signs an NDA, then they’re stripped of all technology. It’s locked away in a BioScan locker only accessible via the owner’s fingerprint .

This is a place where you’re allowed to be without any outside concerns at all. Even if you’re recognized, there’s no proof that you’re here. It’s the ultimate safe space.

It’s also a big fucking island with volcanoes, endless parties, infinite food, thousands of bodies, nude beaches, a variety of live music, and an eighty-page book of excursions to keep you busy during your stay.

We’re staying in the same bungalow that we always book on the sandy beaches of Anapos. We constantly say we want to try other islands and their accommodations, but we’ve rented the same one every single summer since our first trip here seven years ago.

It’s a one-bedroom sitting right on the beach with a deck that overlooks the ocean. We have a private pool and a yard surrounded by exotic foliage. We also hire a part-time butler to bring us food, book our excursions, arrange our transportation, change our linens, and take care of any random shit that we can think of.

I find Alka on the deck when I get back. After calling the concierge to schedule my reminder (on a phone that can only make calls within the resort), I head out to him.

Alka’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met. He’s all kinds of hard, lean muscles with the body of a soccer player. Obviously. He has bleach-blond hair and vivid green eyes. He’s one of those guys who, even when he’s completely relaxed like he is now, you can still trace the prominent lines of his veins on his arms and stomach.

It’s hot. Hands down.

He’s wearing sports shorts, the long kind that you’d see basketball players wear. Or guys who go to the gym. He also has on a tight white tee that I’m confident is a boy’s medium. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be that tight.

I’ll never forget the first time I met this man ten years ago at a fucking gas station of all places. I was so hypnotized that I nearly overflowed my gas tank as I stared at him. I’d been so damn confident that he was an adult content creator too. He just looked like he could captivate an audience.

He kind of laughed at me when I asked him out that first time. However, I didn’t let him leave without giving me his number. I even made him stand right there while I sent him a text to make sure he didn’t give me a random number.

Fortunately, he thought that it was cute, not creepy, which is the common impression people have when we share the story of how we met.

But everything just clicked so easily. He’s polyamorous, so having an open relationship to accommodate my adult content career wasn’t something that bothered him at all. He’s a college soccer coach and damn good at his job. It was never hard to take an interest in his career because watching him work is magical.

When I see him actually get on the field to kick around and lead his team… Well, it’s mesmerizing.

I never thought I could love someone so much. I never thought someone could just fit so damn perfectly into my life, like they were always meant to be there.

Stepping up behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my mouth to the back of his shoulder. Alka turns his head in my direction and smiles. “The sexy world of Honey Sin still in operation?” he asks.

Grinning, I nod. “I scheduled a collab on Tuesday.”

“With who?”

“Ono. He’s got a place in mind, I guess.”

Alka shakes his head. “It’s always impressive that you find ways to film porn on an island without technology.”

I laugh. “It’s never on the islands. Hold on, that’s a lie. I did film one a couple years ago on Bane with a local.”

There are two islands that are reserved primarily for the residents of the resort—Bane Island and Keone Reef—though tourists who want a more relaxed experience can book a stay on either. Technology is allowed on both islands among the residents only. There are checkpoints to get onto the other islands that make sure they don’t have anything on them. It’s like airport security. All residents also have very strict guidelines if they’re going to have access to technology, like who they’re allowed to share it with, take pictures of, etc.

“Which one is Ono again?” Alka asks.

“College guy that looks ten years older than he is. Dark hair. Kind of scruffy. He just came onto the scene last year. Ono Romeo.”

“Mmm,” he answers, which is Alka speak for not remembering who he is. “Have I met him?”

I grin. “Yes. He’s been to the studio a couple times.”

I have a “he-shed” on our property that serves as my studio. It abuts the large backyard and pool, where I host when those visiting come around. It’s also where I film all my solo shit. My toy chest is something of a joke within my ReachMe profile. My subscribers love to see me open it and choose a toy. Sometimes, I’ll create polls and let them choose. On rare occasions, I’ll hold competitions, and the winners are able to choose a toy and what they want me to do with it.

The toy chest is actually a large travel trunk from the late nineteenth century. It’s a complete chest with compartments and drawers that are lined with paper. I spent a fortune on having it restored because I just fell in love with it, and it’s turned into my calling card.

Alka sighs. “Apparently, he didn’t make a big impression on me.”

I laugh. “You said that last time, too.”

“Oof. Don’t tell him that.”

“He’s not your type, love,” I say, shrugging. “That’s fine. You tend to remember them better when they’re someone you could be attracted to.”

Alka tilts his head. After a few seconds, he shifts in my arms. “Is that true?”

I laugh again. “Yes,” I say, then kiss his lips. “You like blonds, and if they have brown eyes, you will remember them, even if I don’t collab with them for two years.”

He scrunches his face. “Ugh. That’s gross of me.”

“It’s not. I actually find it really adorable.”

Alka studies me then grins. “What you’re pointing out is that as long as they have the same basic features as you, I’m down.”

My smile splits my face. “I wasn’t going to point that out, but yeah. You have a type, and that’s cool.”

He sighs, leaning his head against mine. “Thinking back, you’re so damn right. I definitely have a type.”

“I call it surfer blond. You really like a nice body too, but you’re all in if you’re attracted to their personality.”

He shakes his head. His smile drops a little, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have brought that up. Alka always imagined his life as one-third of a throuple. There’s not a reason he can put into words. The closest he can say is that he has two sides of his heart and they each need someone.

To me, I think he just has too much love to give a single person. I know he loves me with his entire being, and I know I satisfy him. We complete each other.

But there are aspects of our lives, of our beings, that don’t belong to the other person. For me, it’s my adult content. I love to bring Alka in from time to time as my faceless, anonymous husband, but that’s not… All the words I can think of are repeats of the toxic, closed-minded, monogamists. I can’t even think of the word that truly describes why I don’t want my husband to be my only partner in my work.

There are creators that make a living in the adult content world with a single partner. There are couples who bring others into their folds for content collabs, often with very strict boundaries. Then there are couples who regularly do their own thing as well as work with each other.

And there are guys like me, whose significant others are not part of the industry at all.

In the same way that Alka can’t fully articulate why he has always known he’s meant for a throuple, I can’t put into words why I prefer my romantic life separate from my work life. On the surface, those words make complete sense… until I say what my work life is. Then there’s a whole lot of judgment, which is fine. The only one who needs to be on board with my career is my husband, and he subscribes, watches, and comments on everything I post. He’s my biggest fan as much as I’m his.

Sometimes, I wonder if there’s another person who can truly fit into this life with us. They don’t need to be for both of us, but that doesn’t mean my career won’t impact them, too.