Page 30 of Music City Diaries

Thirty minutes live, answering questions with twenty people watching, and I’d made over $500 in tips. I blinked, not sure it was real. Rolling over, I kicked my feet in the air, giggling as I screamed out, relief settling in my body.

I’d done it. I’d found a way to survive all on my own.

Strength and accomplishment raced through me, filling me with pride. A message pinged, and I rolled back over to check it. My inbox flashed, and I clicked on it.

@shycowboy sent you a message

I clicked on the message, squinting in case it was a dick pic. Candi had warned me about those. Instead, it was a message. Blowing out a breath, I leaned closer to read it.

Dear Rose,

I debated reaching out to you but thought I’d say hi. I think you’re beautiful and I hope we can get to know one another. You seem like a sweet girl, someone I wish I could meet in real life. Hope that doesn’t sound creepy.

Shy Cowboy

For some reason, it made me blush, and I tapped my finger, debating on responding. I remembered Candi’s two rules: Don’t fall in love and never meet them.

Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing to just message, right?

If anyone asked, I’d blame it on hoping I could make a client out of him. In reality, I was lonely, and it was someone to talk to.

Dear Shy Cowboy,

You flatter me. I’m sure there’s a girl better than me around the corner. She’ll surprise you one day. Thank you for your message.

Rose

Wow, Darcie, that was lame. Sighing, I signed off, exhaustion filling me. This had been a good start, and I felt more confident this could work. Baby steps, but it was at least in a new direction, far away from the girl I’d been.

It had beena month since my first live, and things had progressed well. I did them a couple times a week now unless I was too tired from work. I’d also started having some one-on-one sessions with clients. Most importantly, I’d earned enough to move to a new place.

It wasn’t the biggest, but it had a great location, and everything had its own room. No more sharing space with my kitchen or bathroom. There was even a tiny laundry unit that I was excited about. No more trips to the laundromat, hauling my clothes. It was going to be the height of luxury for me.

Tonight was my last night doing a cam session in this place, and I felt a little tearful about it. Though, not enough to stay. Setting up my new camera, I adjusted the angle and laid back on the bed. It had a remote control with it so I could position it easier.

I’d kept talking with Shy Cowboy, and we’d been more flirty the past few times. He’d asked me last night if I’d be willing to do a private session with him. I wanted to say no, but I knew I needed to push myself. So I’d agreed.

Nerves were starting to get the better of me, though, but I reminded myself that it was Shy Cowboy. It wasn’t a real person I knew, but someone I’d gotten to know. It wasn’t a stranger, but it wasn’t someone I had to face afterward either.

Taking a breath, I hit play on the music. I knew I needed to get in the mood a little before our videos connected. I hoped the music would help drown out the thoughts. Soft tunes came on, helping to ease my anxiety.

Closing my eyes, I drifted my hand over my breast, feeling okay. I was worried the moment I had to do more, though, I’d freeze up. So I trailed my hands down over my body, getting more comfortable. Breathing heavily, I felt ready and looked over at the time. The screen showed he was already in the private room, so with a shaky hand, I hit the button.

“Rose?” he said, his voice filling my ears. It was soft, smooth, and deep.

“Hi, Shy Cowboy.”

“Hi.” He chuckled, the sound bringing goosebumps to my skin. “You can just call me Cowboy if that’s easier.”

“Sure, I can do that. How are you?” I wasn’t sure how this worked, but it felt odd to just jump into the sexual stuff.

“I’m good.” I watched as he came more into the camera, keeping his face hidden. I’d been expecting a scrawny guy, ormaybe an older man, figuring that was who was on these sites. I hadn’t been expecting a younger guy with a body like his.

“Shit, you’re hot,” I blurted, immediately slapping my mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

He laughed, the sound doing funny things to my insides. “Shit. If you could see my face right now, it’s so red.” His country accent was thick, and I liked the way it sounded. When we stopped laughing, he cleared his throat. “So, I have a confession.”

“Yes?” I asked, placing my head on my hand. I was lying in bed in a red bra and panties. It was simple, but I thought it looked good on me.

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