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Then she opened her legs wide in front of the camera.
“I’m already wet, you guys,” she said breathlessly, reaching down and playing with herself. “This is what you do to me.”
Okay, so really she’d lubed herself up a little before she’d gotten on cam but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
Otherwise, she did always try to give her customer what they paid for. It was how she’d built up her business from being a nobody three years ago to being in the top fifty cam girls on the site.
“What should I think about to get myself excited?” she asked the chat room. “Tell me your fantasies.”
Answers started popping up almost immediately. The room was feeling filthy tonight. Then again it was a Friday, and the men who could afford her fees were often feisty on Friday nights.
“Ooo, some of you are naughty, naughty boys, aren’t you? But wow,” she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, “thinking about all your suggestions…”
She laid down on the bed and tipped her face back to look at the camera. The position thrust her breasts out, always a plus. Her hand never strayed from her sex. She reached down and unclipped the camera from the top of the laptop. For some shows she used multiple cameras, but ones like this, her ‘clients’ usually liked the intimacy of a single lens.
She continued with her show, bringing herself to the climax they’d all been looking for. She thought about the sexy bad boy hero in the motorcycle club romance novel she’d been reading earlier to get herself there.
The guys who joined her chat weren’t exactly her type, though they proclaimed they loved her often enough. She always let them down easy. It was against company policy to take clients off the platform, but she knew some girls did it anyway.
Not her. She was quick to cut off anyone who didn’t take her boundaries seriously.
“My time’s almost up guys,” she said, putting regret into her voice. She’d been working for five hours straight and she was ready for a break. Still, she always tried to keep her shows energetic.
Guys came to her for escape from their own daily grinds. One of the first rules of camming was to be yourself—she did it too many hours a day, every day, for it to be a character she played—but still. She tried to keep her moody days to a minimum.
She continued for another ten minutes, switching between the self-torture of orgasm denial and chatting with the guys in the room.
After she logged off, Sloane collapsed back on the bed, eyes closed. She clenched her teeth as she released first one nipple clamp and then the other. Her breath hiccupped as sensation rushed back in. Usually she did it on cam but the time had run out before she could.
She grabbed her sore breasts and massaged them. She barely had a second to breathe out in relief before an alarm went off on her computer. She groaned as she rolled up to a sitting position. Right. She knew she’d put a time limit on the show for a reason—her ‘date’ with Oliver, or Olly, as he liked her to call him.
“No rest for the wicked,” she murmured, pulling her silk robe off the floor from beside the bed and slipping it on. It was only long enough to skim the tops of her thighs. That was how Olly liked it.
He’d been her client for over a year now and it was good to have regulars like him. She went to her walk-in closet and found a pair of red lace panties—another Olly favorite—and slipped them on. Then she grabbed her laptop, phone and bluetooth headset, then headed for the kitchen.
She shouldn’t bitch, though. Oliver was a low-key client.
She set everything down on the little dining table she had set up in the middle of the kitchen. Then she made sure her robe was opened so her breasts were visible, her nipples just peeking out.
She clicked through the windows on her computer until she came to the one that linked the system of cameras placed throughout her house. She turned on the three kitchen cameras. One was a circular fish-eyed lens in the ceiling that looked like just another smoke detector, another was right behind the sink, and the third was the webcam attached to the top of her laptop.
Along with the bathroom cams and bedroom cams, this made up the voyeur-cam network that brought in a hefty chunk of her income. All the cameras were linked to her laptop at all times, and she could choose which cameras to have active during whatever hours she chose. It was still a somewhat novel idea—the equipment alone had cost a pretty penny. But the startup costs had been worth it. They’d paid for themselves within three months.
