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.
CHAPTER 19
------END CHAT: JessReilly19 HAS LEFT THE ROOM.
------RETURN TO FREE CHAT?