Inspired by a prompt from u/gahidus over on r/dirtywritingprompts.

I used to think it was hard living with this curse, well I guess it’s probably a glitch. Something that rends reality and mixes in the digital. Can you imagine? Every important moment in your life popping up on the internet? It’s not the personal moments, there are a million birthday posts, photos of first cars, graduation celebrations. It’s easy to get lost amongst those. Just another person living life. It's the collateral parts that no one thinks of, numbers from your passport or tax filings, private conversations with friends, anyone you accidentally walk in on. To cap it off, finding a job is harder than expected… business won’t hire you. The moment they run a simple web search and see everything… it’s too much potential for operational data to end up on the web; banks don’t want to risk financials; doctors won’t risk patient confidentiality; research labs won’t risk IP. What is a girl to do?

It took me awhile to figure out how to live with and even make this glitch. It all started that day I was down on myself, down on my curse, my glitch; hell I was just down on life. Where do you go when you're down on everything? Your local dive, of course; misery loves… yada yada yada.

After chatting with the bartender, having a few rounds, and trying to make small talk with the locals ( because who is going to believe that everything I do ends up on the web, magically?), in walks this guy. Sure there’s his height, his broad chest, the rolled up sleeves showing off his forearms, but what gets me are those ice chip eyes. I mean how they look so blue in the dingy light of the bar?

He slides onto the stool next to me and orders an old fashioned. Normally I’m not going to say anything, I’m not going get involved, and risk this stranger ending but on the web, but it’s the alcohol and self sorrow mixing just right giving me that charming "don’t give a fuck” confidence, that I introduce myself and we get to talking.

Next thing I know we’re alone and I’ve got his hard cock down my throat, all while I’m lost in those beautiful eyes. I don’t really remember much, other than how joy and ecstasy radiated out of him and the moment of loss I felt when his eyes closed when his orgasm hit. The slight emptiness I left, despite being filled by his cum at the same time.

The next morning, the persistent buzzing of my phone is finally starting to cut through the haze last night has left me with. As I slowly gain my senses, I remember those eyes and that moment of a pulse and gush. I groan and think about how yet again, I’ve done something that I’ll regret and the whole world is going to know. Glancing at the phone, my suspicions are confirmed. A myriad of tags, mentions, google alerts, etc are all popping up letting me know once again, my exploits are somehow in the web. The sheer volume seems odd though, normally I get some attention, but my life is pretty average nothing that stands out online. I’ve never gone viral. With a mix of anticipation and dread I open my phone, might as well get this over with and find out what I looked like as I blew “Eyes” and why the internet seems abuzz.

I watch almost in awe of myself, it’s a performance one would expect to see in a porn video. It's dim enough to smooth things out, but lit well enough to see every that’s interesting. My top’s half down, with one pert boob fully visible and the other being fondled and my hair is tied back so you can see my mouth locked around that hard shaft. I don’t know how the glitch gets around the logistics of camera angles and zoom, but you can see the veins stand out on his cock and the slight coating of saliva as I take him in my mouth. We’re both moaning in the video, and hearing his pleasure again has me starting to feel wet, and from the tension I can feel in my pussy, I know my blurred memories don’t include my own orgasm. As I keep watching, it’s clear why I’ve gone porn viral, it’s not my body, or his, or that he’s someone famous, or his eyes as those don’t make an appearance (his face doesn’t appear, so at least I don’t have the guilt of him as collateral damage)… everyone is watching because the raw enthusiasm I’m displaying for sucking his cock. My eyes are clearly locked on his, my head’s bobbing, I’m adding in hands for a variety of strokes, I’m pulling back and savoring just the tip, and I’m not forgetting the balls. I’m making love to this cock with my mouth, all the while my eyes remain fixed on his. As I said, a pornstar-worthy performance. Which, I mean, at this point I might be. How does one cross that boundary? How many people need to watch and jerk off to your video before your can claim that title? Does your video just need to inspire lust and a need to cum? Hell, I’m feeling the need in my pussy from watching and reliving last night.

I fight the internal struggle to start slowly playing with myself. It’s not like there aren’t videos of me masturbating on the web, as I said, everything ends up there. It’s the apparent narcissism around getting off to your own amateur porn. But… fuck it, if the world thinks my blowjob is hot enough to comment on and cum to, so can I. The world can watch me orgasm to the video me blowing a guy. I can be the metaphorical ouroboros of porn. As my hand snakes into my panties to find my pussy, it hits me, I’m the perfect amateur porn star, the ultimate voyeur experience. I never know where the camera is. I’ll never be able to edit or manipulate the film. I’ll never be able to reshoot a scene. It’s all authentic, nothing faked, all the glory and grittiness of sex. This realization just fuels the sexual tension as my fingers dance over my clit. Yes a glamourous fantasy is a nice escape, but there’s so many of those videos out there. People want authenticity, connection, to see someone else’s private life. My fingers continue circle, dipping down two spread my wetness. I’m getting lost in a fantasy of the world watching people watch me continually explore my sexuality. All the adventures I’ll go on just for people tune into watch. As the moans on my video grow louder and my imagination wilder, my climax builds and builds, until it explodes.

I lay there content, basking in the afterglow, and knowing I have a purpose now; a plan to support myself. No it’s not OnlyFans. I can’t control what goes up or on what sites. I'm just going to be one long-running sexual product placement ad. Sure the terms of all my agreements have the potential to be public, thanks to the glitch, but that can keep me honest. Who cares if I make 10% commission? Sure you can pay me to review a sex toy, but because everyone will find out the terms, you can’t impugn my honest. Imagine being paid to try out every new sex toys ? I can raffle off all my remaining firsts: anal, lesbian, threesome, orgy, etc. I can make real sex education videos. There won’t be any residuals for direct revenue from videos thanks to the glitch, but I also don’t have to do editing or marketing. It’ll all just happen. I’ll turn my authentic sexual experiences into a brand. I stretch, time to go figure out how to register Glitch Experiences, LLC.