“You’re not seriously considering this are you?”
Of course, we’ve both forgotten that we’re still on camera. Another message comes on, showing that the one who made the offer has been listening intently to our quick discussion.
$1,000 each.
Even Brice gawks at this latest message. “He can’t be serious. That’s as much money as I make in two weeks of work.”
Now that he’s calculating how much that money means to his life, I know that the idea of actually going through with it has wriggled into the back of his brain. This both scares and excites me.
“Look,” I say. “Let’s just forget this ever happened. We can go back in the living room and watch the movie. It’s not too late.
A bell rings at that time. A notification pops up. I’ve just received a $2,000 donation. It’s all ours if we accept the proposition.
“I didn’t really think he was serious,” I admit. “Don’t worry,” I add. “I can return the money right away. All I have to do is press that ‘Decline’ button.” Though this is true, I can’t imagine actually doing it. Now with this money just sitting there, waiting for me to accept with a single push of a button.
Brice hasn’t breathed for a good ten seconds. When he finally speaks up, he refuses to look up from the floor. Very out of character for the only bright spot in my life.
“With my mom’s water heater going out and now she’s having problems with her car, money’s been really tight.” He pauses and then looks up at me. “I could really use the extra cash. I mean, it’s not like we’re ever going to get another chance like this.”
My heartbeat is all I hear now. It’s drowning out the sound of the messages dinging away, urging me to pay attention. Pulling my focus away from how close I’m sitting to Brice. Or the fact that we’re already on my bed. Every muscle contraction that pumps blood to my brain is another step closer to making a decision that could change everything.
Brice is right. This chance is never going to come up again. I’ve been doing this for close to six months, and I’ve never even heard of offers like this. Not even in the private forums where the other girls bitch about customers. None of those girls would ever let a chance like this slip by. I mean, I’m already selling my body in a way. It’s just that before now, it’s always been me alone. I can touch myself and show off every inch of skin to the camera, but when I shut it off, nothing’s really changed. Before tonight, I could have deleted my account and forgotten all about this chapter in my life. There would have been no repercussions.
Now, no matter what we decide to do, nothing between Brice and me will ever be the same. Pretending like it never happened isn’t going to work. Even if we don’t go through with it, the decision is going to splinter our perfect friendship. I’m not sure how yet, but it’s bound to happen. Whether Brice feels like he’s not good enough to sleep with or that we regret it but can never say it, there’s no neutral choice here.
Coming out of my reverie, I bite my lips as I look to Brice. He’s watching me, not with lust but with love. A love that I’ve never construed as anything but platonic up to this precise moment. Now I’m not too sure.
“Are you sure?” I say, not even believing the words that are coming out of my mouth. Are we really going to go through with this? Am I going to be having sex with Brice in the next few minutes? What happens after that?
“I just don’t want us to regret anything.”
Does that mean he wants it or not? It’s such a noncommittal answer that it could swing either way. Of course, I can’t accuse him of being unsure when I have no idea myself. What if this is completely awkward? What if we start but can’t go through with it? Then we get the worst of both worlds: a broken friendship and no money to show for it.
“I’ve got an idea,” I say. I’m still biting my lips, but this time I’m licking them too. Moistening them for what’s about to come. “How about first we try to kiss? I mean, that should tell us if it’s too awkward to go further, right?”
A short nod is all I get in response. Then he’s moistening his lips too. As we lean into each other, the mattress creaks beneath our shifting weight. All of my senses are heightened in that rare occurrence that hits when I’m least expecting it. It could be when I’m walking down a hallway and suddenly I’m aware of my existence. Thinking about all of the autonomous systems in my body that are keeping me alive. Of the brain and its countless connections. Of how I only need to think to move my fingers. To lean my weight forward. To press my lips against Brice’s.
Fireworks don’t explode outside the window when our lips meet. Electricity doesn’t crawl up my skin leaving goose bumps in their wake. But my heart leaps, and I can’t help but sigh against him.
So this is what it’s supposed to feel like. Not the animal need for touch, but an affection that every one of my previous relationships has lacked. Our lips pull at the other’s, twisting slightly. This is the first kiss that we’ve ever shared. And now that it’s happening, I can’t imagine why we ever waited so long. When we pull away, it’s only long enough to smile. Then, before I can even get a full breath, I’m connected to him again, my hands reaching up for his cheeks.
Everything about this is right. That is until I remember that we have an audience.
The message is still prominent on my screen. A notification that I’ve received $2,000. That its sender is waiting for us in a private chat room. Brice isn’t looking at the computer screen. He’s watching me. Letting me make the decision.
Instead of talking about it, I take his hand and squeeze it. Then I pull his finger to the keyboard and we press ‘Accept’ together.
A new window pops up and after a few seconds of darkness, our benefactor is on the screen. He’s probably somewhere in his mid-forties. Not hideous, but certainly overweight, his shoulders slumping forward as he leans closer to his screen.
Take her pants off. That’s the first thing he says. A command that is neither polite nor demeaning. It is simply a request with no more emotion behind it than if I were to ask Brice to turn out the lights before a movie.
But this might be too much for the mild-mannered Brice. He’s never been told to perform on camera. Everything is new to him, and I have no idea how he’s going to take to being ordered around. Brice hesitates as his fingers approach the front of my pajama pants. His look is asking me if I’m sure. With a little nod, I tell him to go ahead.
I swallow as his cold fingers graze my waist. He slowly slides them over my hips. I’m biting my lips. I’ve never felt so shy yet so turned on during any of my other cam shows.
“You’re not wearing any underwear?” Brice hisses at me.
With all of this going on, I completely forgot. So with my pants now halfway off and my shirt previously removed, I find myself suddenly and completely nude.
Kiss her. Everywhere.
Brice hesitates, but not for the reason I expected. He’s not wondering if he should go through with this after all. Not worrying about how this might affect our relationship. No, as I lie back on the bed, he’s taking in all my curves, soaking his eyes in the sight.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he says in a light whisper that I don’t think the microphone picks up. Then he’s on all fours on top of me. His lips reach out for mine. His tongue glides along my lower lip, and mine comes out to greet him, but he’s moving down my neck already, pausing shortly at my collarbones. I pull his shirt over his head and relish in the sensation of his bare chest against my breasts. He’s so warm, and his dick so hard, rubbing across my mound as he slides further down to give attention to my breasts.
They’re not massive. In fact, I’ve always been a bit shy about their size. It was the one thing I was sure would hold me back as a cam girl, but my viewers, like Brice, never seemed to mind. I guess boobs are boobs for men. And Brice sure seems satisfied.
His fingertips glide over my ribs and around my breasts as his kisses finally make their way down to my nipples. When his mouth encloses around my
left nipple, I let out a little gasp and arch my back to press myself further into his mouth. His right hand then trails down my side, curving down between my legs. His fingers are at tickling around my pussy, parting my lips slightly and bringing out all the juices I’ve been working up since this started. I’m so wet that he has no problem slipping one finger inside me.
“God, Brice,” I moan out. I clamp down on his earlobe and suck. That’s all the confirmation he needs as he rubs circles around my clit.
The rational part of my brain is locked up deep in the recesses of my skull. My libido tosses away the key, happy to have control of my body all to itself. As I give into to my carnal senses, moaning and pressing my hips against Brice’s fingers, a small voice of reason tells me that this is crazy. Brice is my oldest friend. We’re practically family at this point. I would never want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship, because he’s everything to me. At the same time, this moment is everything. I wouldn’t even care if the whole world were watching through that webcam. I don’t want Brice to stop.
Lick her.
The command is vague. It could mean to lick any part of my body, but that’s not what Brice does. In a swift movement, he slides down my body and buries his face between my legs. No teasing. No easing into it. Brice dives in, licking up the length of my vulva and painting a wet stripe over my clitoris. With the help of tender fingers, he pulls my lips apart to get better access. Then he’s nuzzling, sucking, and licking me so that my fingers dig into his scalp as I press my crotch against his mouth.
Nothing can stop this onslaught of ecstasy now. I need Brice. Need him like a drug. In fact, I can’t wait for him to slide in me, to fill me. But no commands come through on the computer. Although there’s the sense of being watched, I’ve lost all awareness of the outside world. Everything is Brice’s touch and my swelling pleasure.
It’s coming soon.
I’m cumming soon.
My breathing races ahead, filling me with the oxygen my muscles will need as they tighten, ready to convulse. I don’t want this moment to end, but I can’t stop myself. I’m no longer in control. For a pause the length of a single breath, everything stills. My body. The universe. The only movement is Brice’s tongue and his sumptuous lips. Then I’m bucking against him, my thighs squeezing his head until I’m sure he’ll pull away. But he doesn’t. And his tongue doesn’t stop either.
I’m wild, completely unhinged. I don’t care about anything except the fact that I never want this orgasm to end. A flash of awareness lets me know that this is the highest point of my life so far.
Get on top of him.
I almost miss this command. Inside, I can feel my pussy contracting as the last waves of pleasure lap against my soul. It would be so easy to just curl up against Brice at this point. To pull the blankets over us and shut out the world while we talk about how this changes us. But we started this for the $2,000 tip. And that was for sleeping with him. For going all the way.
I roll over and direct Brice to lie down. “It’s your turn,” I say as I sit on his stomach, all too aware of the wet splotch I leave behind. I haven’t been this worked up since I can remember. After a soft kiss to let him know that everything is fine—better than fine, in fact—I lay a trial of kisses down his chest. My hands never stop. I just can’t get enough of him. I’ve seen him without his shirt on, and always appreciated that he was in good shape, but now I get to run my fingertips along his shoulders. Slide the back of my hand along his abs. Grab his cock and squeeze.
There are no more directions from our single viewer, so I could just keep flirting and toying with Brice. Or we could take a breather before the next command pops up, but he’s as hard as a rock. This is not something we’re doing for the money anymore. At least, I hope it’s not from his side. To show him that I’m enjoying this, I slide down and take his dick in my mouth. His hands grip at the bed sheets, and a shuddering sigh seeps out.
“Oh, Tess,” he says. I’ve never heard him say my name like that. I love it. I need to hear it again and again.
As I work myself up and down his shaft, sometimes pulling all the way off with a satisfying pop of suction, only to take his entire length in my mouth once more, his hands work into my hair, digging at my scalp. He isn’t being rough, but his trembling fingers work me into a rhythm that his hips rise to follow.
Finish inside her.
Inside me. Not in my mouth. That’s not what this command means. Brice and I stop as we read the screen together. He looks up at me. I can tell he’s about to say something. But this isn’t the time for talking. Whether he’s going to tell me that we can stop now or that he loves me or whatever it is, I’ll never know. Because I climb back on top of him, place his dick between my legs, and slide down on him.
Brice fills me to stretching. Our pubic hair—mine trimmed and his natural—crumples against one another between our pressed bodies. We gasp together. His hands pull my face down to him where he kisses me. Not deep and passionate. No tongues or desperation here. This is tender. It’s filled with love, not lust. Then his hands slide down my neck, my side, and end on my ass, which he grips with trembling fingers. Together we work into a rhythm that never levels out. We’re both too close to orgasm to ride this out any further. All we can do is rush together to the finish line.
Our thighs slap against one another. We both moan. Both beg for the other not to stop. Gone are all thoughts of the biggest tip I’ve ever received. Gone is the voice in the back of my head reminding me that this is a performance. That the pleasure is meant not for me, but for a paying audience.
Brice cums first, but I’m not far behind. Before his dick loses its rigidity, I ride him with a crazed fervor, beads of sweat rolling down my back, until waves of euphoria lock up my muscles, shivering out through every atom in my body. When it finally releases me, I melt over Brice’s body, resting my head on his chest.
Breaths come hard and fast. Hearts slow together. I run my fingers down the length of his arm until I find his fingers. They interlock with mine. Give a comforting squeeze.
“Why didn’t we do that a long time ago?” Brice teases.
“Sure as hell beats movie night.” I wriggle my ass. He moans since he’s still inside me.
The computer dings. Our viewer has left the video chat, but not before approving his tip. We both got what we wanted from this, but I believe that Brice and I came out on top. That is as long as I ignore the tiny voice telling me that tomorrow is sure to bring with it new challenges.
Chapter 3
Brice doesn’t end up sleeping over. We’ve both got jobs to attend to, and all of his clothes are back at his place. When we say goodbye, we give each other a small kiss, but it’s lacking the passion and surety of earlier.
Left alone in the apartment, I collapse on the couch and turn on my tried and true favorite: The Princess Bride. But I’m not really paying attention. My brain is still processing all the new data from the past hour.
A look to my right and I can see into my bedroom where the bed sheets are pulled off the mattress. One pillow has fallen to the floor. My laptop is open, but the screen has turned off. In my mind I can still hear Brice’s moans. See the commands popping up on the computer. The money we’ve earned is already spent in my mind. Brice wanted me to keep it all, but I insisted he take his half. It was a business transaction. I actually said those words. A business transaction. It was one of the last things I said before he left with a promise to text when he got home. Now that I have time to review everything, I regret those words more than anything else.
Not that I regret anything else. And I can only hope that Brice feels the same.
Another glance at my phone. Why hasn’t he texted yet? It’s been forty-five minutes. He should be back by now. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say now that our relationship is blurry around the edges. Who am I kidding? Even I couldn’t pinpoint the boundaries of our friendship. Not now that we’ve blown so far past them.
Did we do the right
thing? I mean, there’s no doubt that it was amazing, but can we ever go back to the way things were? Would we even want to?
Brice and I met way back in elementary school. Two kids without any friends between us. Both sitting at the same lunch table each day. Eating without anyone to talk to. He was the first one to speak up. His first words were so stupid. They still make me laugh. ‘Yoghurt makes me wanna puke. Want mine?’
Boys are so stupid, but I took his yoghurt, and from then on, we started talking during lunch hour. Then we talked after class while walking home. Turns out we lived in the same neighborhood. It’s just that he always had soccer practice after school, so we never crossed paths. I’m not sure why he gave up the sport, but I think it was so he could walk me back home each day. I wasn’t about to complain.
Brice became a friend. Then a best friend. We studied together, ate together, and even watched movies together in each other’s bedrooms. By the time we hit middle school, everyone was sure that we were dating, but every time we were accused of that Brice would immediately chirp up and say that we were just friends.
It hurt at first. This was the height of puberty. Hormones running wild, calling the shots. Girls teasing their boyfriends with risqué photos texted during late night chats. Guys viewing each girl as a potential feather in their cap. The days of boy and girls simply being friends were supposed to be left behind, back with My Little Pony lunchboxes and recess periods spent on playgrounds, not in sexually charged gymnasiums. To have this boy I cared so much about put me at a distance by dismissing me as nothing more than a friend felt like I was being left behind too. I wondered if something was wrong with me for the longest time. But when I finally stopped looking at myself, I noticed something odd about Brice too.
While we both started out with no friends besides the other, Brice was quick to adapt. Once we were in high school, he was back to playing soccer and had managed to become the star player. He was a real guys’ guy. More than once I’d hear girls in the locker room discussing what they would like to do to him, if only they could pin him down. But that was the thing. I was the only girl he hung out with. Sure, he had lab partners who were girls and his debate team was half and half, but those were random assignments. He never chose to be placed with a girl, and when given a choice, he would choose me or one of the guys from his soccer team.
Cammers With Benefits (FWB Series Book 1) Page 2
