by Skye Warren
As I'm dealing with a drunk patron, I see someone whizzing by, a show of flesh and tight red fabric. My eyes bulge when I realize it's none other than Brooke, and a quick look at my watch tells me she's an hour and a half early. She appears to have read my mind and is already working her ass off, wearing a sinfully tight red dress I just want to peel off her. It’s Christmassy, it’s sexy as hell and it makes me want to do things to her that’ll make it impossible for her to sit down for days.
I almost forget about the douchey guy in front of me, so I let security deal with him while I take care of some orders, eyeing Brooke every so often. She catches me looking and grins more than once, which makes me twitch.
When my old man passed, and left me the bar, he gave me a single piece of advice - never hook up with your employees. That's what he did, and he ended up with a kid - me - and a single dad, to top it all off. I never resented him for it, I appreciated he gave it to me straight. Cancer took him too early and I still miss the old man every day.
But seeing tall, stunning Brooke Addison in that fucking dress makes me want to break the rules.
Just a little bit.
Just bend them a bit.
The way I want to bend her.
Right over.
I'm distracted all night long, and it isn't until 3 a.m. when we close that I get a moment to clear my head. It's kind of the bar's tradition for all the employees to gather round the bar after work for a drink of choice, and when I see Brooke leaving for the night, I gently pull on her forearm to get her attention.
She gasps lightly when I do it, and I swear it nearly makes me spill my load in my trousers. Her pouty lips part and she looks at me through thick black lashes, making me forget how to speak.
"Err... Brooke, you joining us for a celebratory drink?" I ask.
"What're we celebrating?" she asks, and if I'm not mistaken, I notice a hint of flirtation in her voice. Alright, two can play at that game.
"How about you join us and see, sweetheart," I tell her, moving closer and gently gliding my fingers along her arm. She throws her head back and laughs, a little fucking vixen fucking with my head. "Hey, are you gonna blame me for trying? Did you see yourself in that dress, Brooke? You look like trouble."
"Well, trouble needs to go home," she winks at me. "Trouble has stuff to do. See you tomorrow, boss." She winks at me and leaves, waving at everyone as she walks outside.
I come back to the bar feeling like I just had a cold fucking shower.
"That bad?" Darren asks me sympathetically. "She turn you down?"
"I'll get her," I mutter more to myself than anyone else. "Jesus, it's been a long time since I've hit on anyone like that." And it's true - whenever I work the bar, I usually get numbers, so I don't really have to do a whole lotta work. But this girl, Brooke, she makes me want to work my ass off for her.
"How long has it been since Anna now?" Darren asks, and I shoot him a look. He seems innocent enough, though, and I know he doesn't mean to start shit.
"A coupla years," I admit grumpily. Anna was a longtime girlfriend of mine - we broke up a few years ago since she wanted something more serious, and I was happy just messing around. "Last I heard she was happily married with a kid on the way."
I lean against the bar and sigh, running my hands through my jet black, longish hair. It's shaved on one side and I enjoy the feeling of the short hair underneath my fingertips.
"I get it, man," Darren sighs. "Single life is hard. I've been watching too much porn than I'd like to admit."
I laugh out loud, shaking my head. "That shit makes me feel like a guilty teenager again," I tell him.
"Well, depends on what you watch," Darren grins, and I shoot him a look.
"What do you mean, man?"
"Well..." He leans over conspiratorially and winks at me. "There's this website, right. You can watch girls stripping, playing and even fucking live. They'll do shit if you tip them, too."
"So... Camgirls?" I ask doubtfully.
"Yeah," Darren grins. "You into it?"
"Nah, never really watched any," I shrug.
But the thought sticks with me until I come home thirty minutes later. I do have to admit the single life, as fun as it is, can sometimes be boring as fuck, and I find myself browsing the internet for these camgirls Darren's so infatuated with.
I end up clicking on a website, and a girl catches my attention on the front page. She doesn't show her face, but her body is fucking amazing. She's wearing a marshmallow pink wig in most of the pictures, only exposing some stunning pouty lips and a pair of tits any woman would kill for.
I find myself so drawn in by her pics I actually click through to her videos, and am shocked to find her live right now. I sit back and pop open a beer while I watch the girl in front of me, sultry and stunning and reminding me almost too much of a certain shooter girl back at the bar.
The thought of Brooke makes me groan, and the way she turned me down makes me rub my temples tiredly. Finally, a girl I find myself liking, and she shoots me the fuck down from the get go. And I'm a handsome guy - Darren told me when he was drunk as fuck if he had to do a devil's threesome, it would be with me, and we laughed our asses off.
I keep watching Marshmallow on the screen, learning more about her as the video goes on. She doesn't really fully strip, she just teases relentlessly until I assume every guy in that chatroom, including me, has a serious case of blue balls. The way she twirls, the way she laughs... Fuck, I get why this girl gets all the hits on her viral videos. She's a stunner.
I find myself moving closer to the screen, my eyes on the pretty girl on the screen.
Then I start to notice shit.
The way her waist dips in, wearing that sweet little pink camisole.
The way her tits stand to attention.
And when I look behind her, I see a red dress thrown over a chair and I nearly start laughing out loud.
"Sweet little Brooke," I say to myself, shaking my head. "You're in a world of trouble, princess.”
I make a quick call to Clara, taking care of something I’ve wanted to do all day, then get back to my computer.
Chapter 2
Brooke
There's a small smile playing on my lips as I leave the Crooked Raven. That man - well, my boss, really - sure is something. The way he hit on me so blatantly makes me think he doesn't get rejected very often, which only made me want to mess with him more.
Some people say they decide whether they want to sleep with someone in the first minute they meet them, and it might be true, as I've already decided I want Law to fuck my brains out. Of course, I wouldn't be me if I wouldn't toy with him like a cat with a mouse beforehand.
I chat to Clara on the way home, and tell her all about my first day. She spent the day with her relatives, having a Christmas dinner. I don’t admit it to her, but I’m a little jealous she has someone to spend the holidays with.
She seems happy for me although I can hear a small note of jealousy in her voice. I do think she has a crush on Lawson, and it's another reason why I'm going to try and keep my distance... for now. Of course, she's also completely oblivious to the other bartender, David or Darren or something, who has a serious case of puppy eyes for her.
Once I come home, I get changed into my other working outfit. The wig goes on, the clothes come off, and I sit in front of the camera in my practiced pose that makes the tippers go crazy. I turn on my camera and wave to my audience, smiling with the perfect amount of sweetness and naughtiness that gets them going.
If someone had told me I'd become a camgirl last year, I never would've believed them. But I didn’t really have much of a choice.
My family is big. I have two sisters, and two loving parents. But putting us all through school and taking care of us took its toll on them, and this year, they couldn’t afford the short flight to Michigan where I’m planning on going to school next semester, once I have enough saved up.
Spending the holidays alone sucks, but at the
same time, I know it’s necessary. The camgirl thing, on the other hand… Yes, it pays the bills, but I’m excited about the prospect of giving it up when the time is right.
Of course, December is a good month for me too, with people tipping like crazy with the excuse of it being the season.
As I engage in conversation with my viewers, smiling prettily, I see a new offer has popped up. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head when I see the amount the new guy has offered.
One thousand dollars.
That would solve a lot of my problems, but I'm mostly worried about what he wants from me. I see he's already requested a private chat, and my fingers shake as I accept the invitation.
I hate the ugly side of this business. The one that makes me feel like crawling up under the duvet and hiding from the world. But it pays the bills, and one day, it'll pay for my education. That's what I really want.
I enter the private chatroom, and my fingers shake as I type a message for my generous admirer.
Wait.
A message pops up and I stop writing, raising my fingers off the keyboard slightly. I bite my lip, knowing full well he can see me doing it as he types a message. No one else can see me right now - it's just us.
I have a special request. Just read, don't say anything before I tell you.
My hands shake above the keyboard and I consider what he's asking of me. I really shouldn't be doing this - he'll probably ask for personal information or some shit, and I'll just feel bad when I'll have to deny him. But I nod nonetheless, and I see a message telling me he's writing something else.
I want you to watch me.
I just stare at my screen; not completely sure I understand. I tap my long nails on my bottom lip and suddenly, my picture splits into two as another video joins the screen. I nearly topple off my chair when it happens, and I do my best to hide my shock when the picture comes into focus.
It's just a blank, white wall, and front and center, there's a man. He's wearing boxers only, and his body is...
It's fucking insane.
He's ripped as hell and his well-defined muscles are inked all over, in pretty designs that make me want to trace them with my fingers until I find out what all of them mean. I can't see his face, it's just a torso, and his strong arms which don't have any ink on them. The tattoos are only on his chest and below it, and I can't keep my eyes off them.
Watch, princess.
Another message makes me cross my legs, and I realize, embarrassed as hell, that I'm getting really fucking wet watching the man across from me. He could be anyone, he could be anywhere. And he has me dripping down my thighs when I watch him breathe on the other end.
"Talk to me," I ask him, and he shakes his head, making me smile. "Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Then what do you want us to do here."
His fingers reach to the keyboard and he types another message out for me.
Watch, and play. If you want to.
I furrow my brows at the word, unsure I want this man to see me naked despite his more than generous donation.
"Alright," I say softly, running my fingers through the pink wig.
Without so much as a warning, the man whips out his cock.
My eyes widen, and I'm glad as hell he can't see my part of my face. My chest isn't so lucky, and as my hand flies to my breasts in shock, I hear him chuckle on the other end. His laugh is deep and delicious, and it makes me want to sink my teeth into the lips I can't even see.
His dick is huge.
And I've seen a few - I have something to compare it to. But this enormous, throbbing, cut cock is the biggest I've seen, hands down. On the tip, he has a piercing and I find myself licking my lips as he strokes his cock lazily.
"Please," I manage to say. "Talk to me."
He seems to hesitate a little, but finally, he says something, and my heart nearly stops when I hear him speak.
"Alright, princess, what do you want me to say?" he asks slowly, drawling out his words in an accent so fake I'd almost laugh if I weren't so turned on. "You gonna play for me?"
"Maybe," I grin. "I see you get right down to business."
"What, do you want me to hold some mistletoe above my dick, make it seasonal?" he laughs, and I can't help giggling in reply.
"Pretty laugh," he tells me. "I wonder if you're pretty too."
"You can't see me," I say on auto-pilot, and he stretches out on his chair.
"Don't need to, princess," he says, and my eyes travel down his broad chest. "I'm fine just like this. Now you're gonna watch me like you promised, aren't you?"
"Yes," I say softly.
"Yes, what?" he asks, and his hands keep stroking his cock lightly.
"Yes, Sir." My response is automatic, and I blush once I realize what I've said.
"Good girl," he breathes, and it sends tingles down my spine. "So, do you think you're gonna play for me tonight?"
"I..." I swallow, hard. I've never really had the urge to masturbate in my life, I'm just not one of those people, but hearing him talk like this makes me shiver. God, I want to show him more than I should, and it's making me scared. "I really shouldn't. It's not exactly safe."
"It's Christmas Eve," he switches the topic suddenly.
"More like Christmas morning now," I reply with a sad smile.
"You got nowhere to be, princess?" he wants to know, and I inhale sharply.
"I'm not sharing personal information," I say in a clipped tone, crossing my arms in front of my body. "So you can stop digging."
"I like your tits like that, pushes them up," he says easily, and I blush again.
But I don't uncross my arms, and the appreciative murmur from him makes me want to do so much more for the man.
"I need to touch my cock, princess. I don't care what you do, you don't have to watch. Just... Wish these were your fingers."
He slides his fingertips over his cock, gently pressing down on the head and making me gasp out loud. This hard, he's even bigger, almost impossibly huge. I wonder if I could even fit him in any of my holes...
He toys with his piercing, pulling it up and making me swallow thickly.
"Wish you were touching me," he keeps telling me, tapping the head of his cock. "Your lips, right here, princess."
When he pulls the finger away I see a drop of precum sticking to the head of his cock and my mouth waters like I'm some needy whore.
"Please," I manage to breathe.
Surreptitiously, I sneak a hand between my legs, knowing he can't see well enough to know exactly what I'm doing as I slide my panties aside. I open my mouth and inhale as my fingers hit my dripping, swollen pussy. It feels almost too good for what this is.
"Please what?" he asks me.
"Please let you play with your wet," I gasp, "Dripping," I moan, "Pink little pussy?"
I'm blushing so much I don't know how I haven't caught on fire yet.
"I would let you, but I think you're already doing it, princess."
I mewl and he chuckles to himself again, now moving his fingers over his cock faster. My eyes are fixated on his image on the screen and I find myself babbling before I can stop myself.
"Let me see your face," I beg him. "Please, I want to see."
"Oh, princess," he laughs. "I thought you didn't like sharing personal shit."
I pull my hand away angrily and almost disconnect the call, I'm so pissed, but just then, he lets out a low growl and his cock throbs with the unreleased juices inside him. It makes me shake and I want to touch him, feel him, taste him.
"Show me," I beg again. "Please, I want to see your face."
He lets me wonder for a second, making me lose my mind, before finally smiling wide. "Alright, princess, but you first."
I knew he'd ask for it, and it still catches me off guard.
"Okay," I mutter softly, and he strokes his cock harder, his hands sliding all over his shaft in long stroking motions, making him grunt out loud.
I reach for my webcam with shaky fingers and slowly adjust it, maki
ng sure to look down as I do. It's the first time I'm doing this, and I'm blushing so much I feel ridiculous. Once the camera is on me, I hear him groan and the wet sound of him stroking makes me want to cum so badly. My fingers are back between my legs and I'm stroking my pussy, finding my clit and gently pinching it between two fingers.
"Look up, princess," he tells me roughly. "Look at me while you fuck that pretty little pussy with your fingers."
"Jesus," I breathe. "Show me you now, please..." I feel so very vulnerable with my face exposed, even though he still can't see anything too intimate like my tits or my ass. But this, what we're doing... It's a little bit insane.
"I'm gonna show you," he promises. "Make me cum first, princess, and I'll show you anything. Where are you?"
"Michigan," I reply in a small voice. "Traverse City, Michigan."
"Lucky for you, princess, I live close enough," he growls, and my eyes fixate on his cock as he groans, leaning back, his cock getting ready to burst. "You know a bar called the Crooked Raven?"
"Yeah," I reply, feeling slightly shell-shocked. "Actually, I... Yeah, I know it."
"Best Forbidden Sour stateside. Meet me there in twenty minutes," he tells me roughly, and I don't have time to acknowledge what he's saying because my hands are inside my hole, and I'm fucking myself, and I'm about to cum to this stranger's voice.
"Princess, you better be there," he tells me roughly. "I'm gonna be waiting."
"I will," I manage to get out. "I promise I... oh god..."
"Almost there," he tells me softly, but I'm already too far gone. All I need to do is imagine those strong hands wrapped around me instead of his cock, and I'm gone, cumming all over my fingers and moaning so loudly I bet I'll wake up my neighbors.
"Jesus," he groans, and I look up at the screen in time to see him spurting all over his fist, and then keep pumping his cock until he's milked himself dry. "Jesus girl, that's insane."
I try to catch my breath as he leans back, running his other hand through his hair. I almost catch a glimpse of him, but it's over before I can, and he grins at the camera. "Crooked Raven, twenty minutes," he tells me, and just like that, the connection is lost.