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“Shit!”
He scrambled to his feet, putting the laptop down on the side table and clicking on the lamp.
Nicholas breathed out hard as he pulled out his wallet and sat back down on the bed. The interruption had him stopping, though.
What the hell was he doing?
He stared down at the laptop. The screen was already open, asking for his credit card information. He glanced down at his wallet. Then back at the screen.
And he imagined the two proverbial cartoon devils standing on each shoulder.
No one had to know. It was harmless. He’d just do it this one time.
Bet Adam said the same thing when he reached for the apple.
Think of your mother. She raised you with more respect than this. If she could see you right now, she’d smack you upside the head and you’d deserve a lot worse.
But then the other voice piped up, equally as loud: Sloane did this kind of work knowing men were watching. Was it so bad if, just this one time, he was one of them? She was beautiful and her body deserved to be celebrated.
Mm hmm, and you’ll celebrate it all the way into fucking yourself stupid. How convenient.
The countdown clock was almost up. Sloane giggled as she dropped the soap. Nicholas bet it was no accident, considering that right as the countdown clock hit zero, she’d bent over at the perfect angle to expose her pretty, pink pussy to the back camera.
“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” he swore again, sliding his credit card out of his wallet.
Chapter 4
SLOANE
Sloane picked up the bar of soap and ran it slowly, oh so slowly up her leg as she came back to a standing position. Warm shower spray hit her breasts and the second song on her playlist came on.
Okay, that meant all the free looky-loos were gone and now it was just premium members. Though if she was lucky, she’d picked up some new viewers too. That was the whole reason the first five minutes were free—it was a classic marketing tactic. People thought camming was all about the sex but Sloane had quickly come to understand that if you didn’t work at it like a business, you’d flame out fast.
She’d learned every trick in the book over the last few years. Back then she’d had to hustle for every viewer. She did countdowns, raffles, or played card games with clients (for every round she lost, she’d take off another article of clothing or do a particular sex act). She spent hours personally messaging every client who went private with her to try to develop a solid base clientele and lure them into more sessions.
Her first year with a show like this, she’d have maybe a hundred in the public room and only five or ten follow her into private.
But she’d paid her dues and kept with it. Tons of girls tried and never got anywhere. Sloane didn’t have options, though. This was one of the few lucrative career options available to an agoraphobic shut-in, so she’d been determined as hell to make it work.
Right before she’d gotten in the shower, she’d glanced at the viewer count and it was over a thousand and still rising. If she was lucky, maybe a hundred would follow her into private. With numbers like that, she’d bet she made the front page tonight. That only happened when you had a top camgirl score. She’d been top 50 for a while now but had her eye on top 40 or even higher.
With her current cashflow problem, she’d be hustling her ass off even more to make it happen.
Now to give a show that kept them coming back for more.
She arched her breasts out as she dipped her head even further back into the spray, letting out a little moan and running her hands down her face and even further until she gave her breasts a squeeze. Then she ran the bar of soap up her belly. Leisurely, she soaped up her breasts and arms. She took her time shaving her underarms.
Some guys really got off on watching her shave. She washed all the suds off and then moved closer to the back camera as she sprayed vanilla-scented shaving cream into her hand. She lifted one leg to the side of the bathtub. It was the best way to shave her legs. And it exposed her pussy. Two birds? One stone? Check and check.
She lathered her leg in shaving cream. It took a good seven or eight minutes to shave both. She ran her hands up her left leg after she finished with it.
“It’s so smooth,” she said, loud enough to be picked up by the mic over the shower spray but not so loud it sounded forced. Her hand continued from her thigh to her sex before she shook her head at herself like she was reminding herself she had a job to do.
