This week was not that week.
I fought back a sigh as I shut the window down. It occurred to me then, as the guy behind me pulled himself out of me, that I didn’t even know his name.
Sloppy Seven-Incher would do. Names were far too personal for this job. There’s a reason porn stars, for the most part, don’t use their real names.
I shut the laptop screen and reached for the towel I kept on hand. I wiped between my legs and across the tops of my thighs, removing any traces of come. What I couldn’t wipe away, however, was the feeling of yuckiness that remained there.
One more show. I hated doing the couple show first because it always made me feel vile for the second one, and there wasn’t always time between them to shower quickly. It didn’t matter that the second one was my solo show. That was the risky one because my face could be seen, but it was also the one that made the most money.
No law school in the country would accept me if they found out I was whoring myself out several times a week to pay my way. Most other girls I knew had a part-time job at a bar or waiting tables. Even in retail.
Fuck that though. You wouldn’t catch my ass in retail. I’d rather go broke. Three years working part time at the hardware store in my hometown and dealing with arrogant fuckers had put me off that shit for life.
No—my plan was tight. Cam girl my way through college. Then, when law school hit, I’d get a job in a law firm even if all I did was make coffee, take calls, and schedule appointments.
I knew what I wanted, and by fuck, I was gonna get it. I’d worked too hard to let anything stand in my way.
I slid my panties up my legs and over my butt. The slight ache from my fuck-buddy’s spank was still hanging around, but I forced myself to think past the sensation and focus on grabbing my bra and putting it back on.
“Hey.”
I paused, my bra half clipped, and turned to face him. My tits were still out, but really—what did I have to hide at that point? Not a lot.
“What’s up?” I asked him.
His nerves were palpable. I could taste them. They were strangely thrilling.
“Could I… Could I get your number?”
Oh, Jesus. I always hated it when they asked that.
“Sorry,” I replied, fully clipping my bra and twisting it. “I don’t give my number out.”
“That’s all right. Worth a shot, right?” He smiled as if he didn’t care, but I could see the hit his ego had taken.
As I stared into his dark-brown eyes, I felt the familiar snake of guilt overcome me. “Oh, what the hell?” I slipped my bra straps up my arms and reached for my phone. “Give me yours. Then I’ll call you.”
His eyes lit up like I’d promised him I’d give him a blow job and swallow.#p#分页标题#e#
I almost felt even guiltier for the trick I was playing, but hey. A girl had to be smart in this industry.
He reeled his number off, and I dialed it, hitting the green call button at the last minute. His phone vibrated in his hand, and I cut the call off. He grinned like he was the Cheshire Cat as he tapped away at his screen, clearly saving the number.
It’s a shame his call would never be answered. Ah well. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right?
He tucked his phone into his jeans pocket and stepped back for his T-shirt. Then, with his shirt in his hands and me still standing in my underwear, he approached me and leaned in to kiss me.
Whoa now, buddy.
I pressed two fingers to his lips and leaned back, lifting my eyebrow to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. Someone had jumped the gun there, clearly, and it sure as hell hadn’t been me.
He’d just screwed me on camera, for another man to see, and now, he thought he could kiss me?
Uh, no, babe. If there aren’t flowers, there isn’t kissing. End of story.
He got the message, because he backed off with a sheepish look and scurried out of the room.
The room that happened to also be my bedroom.
Yeah. It wasn’t exactly a fact I tended to share with the guys who came there for the cam shows. If I wanted anyone to know, they’d know. I’d taken careful measures not to put anything too “me” on show in my room… At least, nothing that couldn’t be easily hidden under the bed.
It still stood that the sweetest moment of this job was the moment I could stretch out and slam my door behind the guy.
That was also the moment I decided to fuck the rules. I grabbed my towel from my laundry pile in the corner. Then I wrapped it around my body and headed straight for the bathroom I shared with the other girls at this end of the hall. It was mercifully open, and I twisted the lock with glee.
I didn’t care if I would be late for my next show. I’d stay under the hot spray for two hours if that was what it would take for me to get clean. Besides, surely a wet, naked body had to be better than a dry one?