I RECLINE, RUN a hand lazily over the comforter while I read the chat streams in free chat. This is the waiting room, the place where I look tempting and smile and laugh and convince one of the waiting men to press the “Take to Private Chat” button, starting the clock ticking, starting the quick, steady drain on their credit card. $6.99 a minute. It has built my empire and put hundreds of men into debt.
BBQKing: damn ur hot
LSUfreshman: pls show your tits
JoeyBaby111: are your breasts real?
I laugh, running a hand slowly down the dip of my bra, pulling slightly at the lace to show the boys a little more skin. “Joey, my breasts would be a lot bigger if they were fake. These girls are all mine. LSU, I can’t show my tits in free chat but would be happy to show them in private.”
LSUfreshman: im broke
---HungBlackCock enters room
MommasBoy: do u do family chat bb?
Divorced4646: take off your panties and turn around
---freebird71 enters room
“I’ll do family chat, MommasBoy.” I smile, let my hand wander lower, tug on the top hem of my panties. Family chat is easy, the boys typically spilling their load as soon as the word Mother, Sister, or Brother is uttered. The Internet brings out all types, including those men who want nothing more than to sniff their sister’s panties. Joy.
420allday: let me peek at ur pussy please
BBQKing: do u do anal in pvt?
MommasBoy: I want to do a roleplay with u as my Mom
HungBlackCock: that’s disgusting
MommasBoy: black cock is disgusting
Divorced4646: put on some stockings. Sheer ones.
HungBlackCock: u wouldn’t find your daddys black cock disgusting
---shavedandhard4u enters room
---jeff001972 enters room
MommasBoy: that doesn’t even make sense
I ignore the arguments, rolling my finger over the remote and zooming the cam into my cleavage, letting the high definition do the work for me. I’m surprised I’m still here. Normally I’d have been taken to private by now.
- FREE CHAT ENDED - freebird71 HAS STARTED A PRIVATE CHAT
I zoom out enough that he can see me smile. “Hey, free.”
freebird71: hey
“What are you looking for tonight?”
freebird71: cunt
I try not to frown, hide the struggle by rolling my body over, letting him see the curve of my ass, my face shielded. “I don’t like that word.”
freebird71: I’ve never done this before.
I hear the ding of the message and roll back forward. Read his message and note the complete lack of apology in the words. Try again for a smile. It is late. I am starting to get jittery. Needy. I hope he’s not a chatter. It’s easier to pretend to be normal when my fingers are shoved inside of me, the gasps and gritted teeth attributed to arousal, and not the thin containment of madness. “What’s your name?”
freebird71: marcus
“And Marcus, would you like me to keep my clothes on? Or get undressed?”
The good news with this guy is, time doesn’t seem to be a concern. The worst clients are the ones who want you to strip and dip in the first fifteen seconds. They pant through the words they type, rushrushrushing you like it is the final curve of the Kentucky Derby. At the rate this chat is going, I can stretch it out. Get a half hour and a couple hundred bucks out of him.
freebird71: keep them on for now. but pull up your shirt so I can see your tits
I’m wearing a tight tank, cut low in front, with no bra underneath. I drag it over my nipples, high enough that both of my breasts are revealed. I settle onto my side, zooming out the camera until I am fully in the frame, my panties bright pink against my skin, my hair down, framing my face. I look, in this position, in these clothes, like a naughty teenager, getting frisky on her webcam, willing to do anything for approval. It is a look the men go crazy for.
freebird71: small tits. They’re pretty.
“Thanks.” I let my hands trail, one pulling gently on my nipples, teasing the skin until they pout, like tight red berries against my skin, the other hand pulling on the edge of my panties, letting them tighten against the lines of my sex.
freebird71: what can I make u do?
Make me do? I consider the question. Newbies can be controlled in ways that seasoned cammers can’t. They believe what you tell them, not knowing any differently. But he’d eventually find out the rules, would know any lies I chose to spin. And… since I enjoy what I do, there is little reason, if any, to lie, at least about the actions allowed on the site. I wet my lips. “You can ask me to do almost anything. I can’t break the law, so anything illegal is off-limits.”
freebird71: whats illegal?
I grit my teeth. This guy is a real winner. “Defecation or urinary acts. Pretending to be younger than eighteen. Bestiality.”
freebird71: everything else goes.
There should have been a question mark at the end of his text. He’s either an unintelligent newbie, or… or I’m almost at the stage of ending this chat. Several things about him I’m not crazy about. “You can ask me to do anything,” I repeat. “Doesn’t mean I will do it.”
I end up doing everything he asks for. It isn’t hard. He isn’t creative, kinky, or illegal. He wants me, once he gets warmed up, naked. Then fucks me from behind, my ass in the air before the camera, bent over, gasping his name when I pretend to come. He wants to slap my ass and tell me what a nasty girl I was. Wants me to tell him it hurts, that it is too big, wants me to tell him how hot and wet I feel inside, then how big he feels in my mouth. When he is close, he asks for a facial and I kneel before the camera and look up into it. Beg for him to come on my face, then take his imaginary cum like a good slut.
It feels oddly restrained, he types slow as molasses, and I never warm to his brand of romance, but it is long. And long means money and distraction.
At the end, once the typing stops and there is a long moment of silence, I switch the cam to an overhead feed and lie back on the bed, my breath slowing, the exertion of faking it more intensive than you might expect. I breathe and stare at the blank screen. Wait for him to say something. It’s compliment time, the bits of space when words gush onto the screen, should the client wait around that long. Most have their finger poised over the “End Chat” button, wanting to jab it as soon as their orgasm starts, anxious not to spend a penny over what is physically required by their bodies. But freebird71 hasn’t been cheap so far, so I wait and look pretty. Let him think he has sated my voracious sexual appetite.
freebird71: I’d like to do that in person. Where do you live?
Ha. Right. I reach out quickly, hitting the “End Chat” button for him, setting the stage early for this newbie. If he really wants to know, he can piece together the false clues that Mike has sprinkled so creatively around. The University of Iowa sweatshirt that hangs over my desk chair. The Facebook account that is third on Google results when you search for Jess Reilly. The area code of my cell phone, my address which is forwarded here. We have worked hard at the illusion. Backed it up with social media accounts, fake friends, user profiles, and campus registrations. When clients dig, there is a slew of information for them to find. Easily. So easily that there is no need to dig any further. They find what they want and no more questions are needed. The system is set up specifically for this type of client, the kind that makes my skin crawl and who doesn’t seem quite right.
------RETURN TO FREE CHAT?
I pull on my tank top and underwear and reenter free chat.