Page 10 of Room Nine: For Their Eyes Only

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I stand behind her and stare at my reflection, my face flushed with a dewy glow. Is this shame?Arousal?Perhaps a bit of both.

Things got out of hand two nights ago, and I’m only now recovering. It was the first time I ever let down my guard with a client. The only time I’ve ever been aroused by a man on the other side of the camera. We talked for hours, and I was tempted to refund some of his money, but he insisted on paying.

Does that make me a prostitute?

What was I thinking? When did I grow so bold? The temptation was too great. My lust overwhelmed me and turned me into desperate skank. Thirty minutes in, I was talking about foursomes with his younger brothers and eagerly calling him daddy, relishing how the word rolled off my tongue.

He asked me to do it, but he isn’t the first man to request special names.

Typically, I ignore those demands and stick to my script. But Andrei made me break my rules with nothing more than his deep, gravelly voice. I can’t believe how wet he made me. I can’t believe I let him watch me come.

For heaven’s sake, I gave him a close up of my pussy while I did it! What if he took a photo and uploads it to the internet? The scandal follows you everywhere. I’ll never find a normal job and I can’t livestream forever.

“You’re doing it now, Viv. Where’s your brain? You’ve been walking around like a zombie all morning.” Elsa waves her hand across my face to snap me out of my daze. She’s right to be annoyed. I’ve contributed almost nothing to our conversation.

“Sorry. I have sex on the brain,” I confess, then cringe, knowing Elsa's not going to let a statement like that slide without any follow-up questions.

“Sex on the brain?” She snaps her head in my direction. Her lips part with surprise, and she leans closer to whisper, “Are you seeing someone? Did you finally give up your V-card?”

“No! But I think I’m smitten,” I answer truthfully but hesitate to elaborate on the details of my downfall. She hates online dating and would look her nose down at me for falling for a client. It feels tawdry, filthy, and so fucking right. Why can’t I stop thinking about him, longing to see him again and hear him call me his baby girl?

“With whom?” Elsa isn’t going to let it go. A part of me must have known that when I brought it up. I want to talk about Andrei. I just don’t want to hear her condemnation. She’ll talk me out of getting attached to a strange man online. These things never work out, especially on this type of platform. This isn’t online dating. I’m a cam girl, and I’m a staunch believer in maintaining boundaries.

Last night I had a long session with Andrei’s younger brother, Vadim. He asked me to keep it a secret for now and said he’d see me tonight. But I don’t think he will. Only Andrei has booked a private session, and after he did, I blocked off the rest of the evening’s sessions in case Andrei wanted more time.

It’s not that I didn’t enjoy Vadim’s conversation. He far more shy than his brother, opting to dim the lights and disguise his face like a man forced into witness protection. I’m used to it. Men don’t want their families to know what they’re doing and why they’re spending so much money on the app.

I can’t believe I was so attracted to a faceless man, but Vadim was so easy to talk to, I hardly noticed when one hour rolled into two. His sweet words and gentle nature made me instantly warm up to him. We talked, flirted, shared pet names and discussed intimate fantasies. But nothing more. I wanted to get to know him apart from his brother.

I didn’t let it go as far as I wanted for fear he’d give Andrei a play by play. I know they say they share women, but I don’t understand how they put that into practice. No one has explained the logistics and frankly, I’m afraid to ask.

And why do I care? How has this man crawled under my skin so fast?

“No one important. It was a chance meeting, and no one I’ll ever see again.” I wave her off and continue browsing through the lingerie section, looking for something special for tonight.

I’m not being cagey. Eventually, I’ll need to confess for the sake of my sanity, but there’s no sense in mentioning a man I’ll never meet. Besides, I think it’s best to maintain an air of mystery around what I do. Elsa worked CamLife for over a year, but the only thing she ever exposed was her feet. I may not get naked, but I reveal much more than my toes.

“It sounds important, or you wouldn’t have brought it up. Next time you see him, introduce yourself and tell him you’re available. Believe me, he won’t turn you down. You’re gorgeous and too sweet for your own good. Guys eat that shit up.” Elsa leads us toward the cashier’s box and continues lecturing me, “It’s about time you have a real face-to-face relationship and stop spending so much time talking to men online.”

Her words deflate me. She’s right. Andrei and Vadim’s level of attention is nothing new. Most evenings, I speak to three or four guys, and it’s my job to make them feel special. I flirt with all of them because that keeps them returning for more. It’s not always easy to pretend to be interested, but I try my best because it’s all part of the fantasy I’m trying to create. If these guys wanted reality, they’d stick to the real world and save themselves five hundred bucks.

But I didn’t need to pretend with Andreior Vadim. They brought that side out of me out without trying. Imagining them together got me so aroused I had to rein in my emotions before I said or did anything I’d regret. Although looking back, we’ve both crossed more than a few lines.

“You’re right. I need to live more. I should have experiences offline with real men who have six-pack abs, chiseled jaws, and sexy voices that make me weak in the knees.” I imagine Andrei’s smoldering blue eyes, and Vadim’s hot body—the one he revealed after he removed his dress shirt to jack off to one of my stories—and sigh. With a flushed face and tight voice, I inadvertently describe them to a tee.

“That’s a tall order, sister. But you may want to add a massive penis if you’re already creating a fictional man. Have you seen one yet?” Elsa never lets me forget that tiny detail. I regret telling her about my lack of experience. I was looking for guidance, not providing ammo for constant mockery.

Technically, I haven’t. Neither man revealed anything below the waist but simply described what they did in detail. And even if they had shown me the goods, I still don’t think I could characterize that as having seen a cock in the flesh.

“I know what a cock looks like, for heaven’s sake. But no, I have yet to hold one in my hand. Obviously, I’m not a Goody Two-shoes. I’m open to the experience when the right opportunity presents itself. I didn’t grow up like you. Your mom gave you the freedom to date and meet boys. My father was strict, and his constant supervision made it hard to run around New York grabbing penises left and right.” The last words emerge louder than I intended, and the woman beside me gasps with horror.

“Settle down, Karen,” Elsa huffs and pulls me closer, eyeing the older woman with derision. “She said shedid notgrab penises. Besides, she used the scientific term, which makes this a discussion about biology, not sex. Beat it.” She hands the saleswoman her credit card and helps me place my items on the counter.

“Thanks, girl. I’m positive I’m going overboard, but I’m pretty sure all this crap is a work-related tax deduction.” I make excuses, hoping she doesn’t notice the crotchless panties in the mix. Why would I buy such a thing? I would never show my pussy on camera.Or would I?I smile, imagining what position would show me in the best light before mortification washes those thoughts away. I don’t even remember the last time I waxed.

“Are we still on for lunch, or must you return to your cameras?” Elsa leads us down the escalator, through the glass doors, and onto the sidewalk. I check the time on my phone and notice an incoming message from the CamLife app.

VB731: Can I see you again tonight? I noticed you blocked off a stretch of hours.

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