Camgirl by Isa Mazzei

Author:Isa Mazzei
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rare Bird Books
Published: 2019-10-31T19:33:54+00:00

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

I landed in Vegas with my heart in my throat, nervous for my show with Ginger. A lot was riding on this. I needed to charm Ginger so I could charm our viewers so I could find replacements for Odin and Alex. I also needed to prove to myself that I could be good at all of the sexual aspects of camming. Not just masturbation, but also real sex. Camming had made masturbation okay, I reassured myself, so it was going to make sex okay, too.

I booked a room at a hotel in Downtown Vegas because Ginger had told me it was more fun than the strip. I arrived on a Saturday morning. Our show would be that night, and then I’d leave the following day. It was a short trip, but I figured it was greedy to ask for more than one show with her. I really wanted Ginger to like me. This was going to be the best show ever.

Ginger picked me up in a cherry-red MINI Cooper. She was shorter in person than I imagined, but just as pretty. As she leaned in for a hug, I noticed a collection of fine lines around her eyes. She was older than I expected, too—maybe thirty.

“Una!” she exclaimed, opening the trunk for me to put my bag in. “Hello!”

I smiled, suddenly aware that this older, more beautiful, more educated person was going to be my lover. I climbed into the car beside her. She started the engine.

“So I was thinking you could just come over, drop your stuff off, and then we could hang out?”

“Oh, sure, that works.” I wasn’t sure at what point I’d go to my hotel, but I didn’t say anything.

“How was your flight?”

“Oh, it was easy. Super fast from Colorado.” It felt weird telling the truth to someone from the camming world.

“Yeah, easy flight. Cheap, too.” She smiled and pulled out onto the freeway, the dry desert heat creating shimmers on the asphalt.

Okay—be cool, Isa, I reminded myself.

“Are you from here, originally?” I asked the first lame question that popped into my head. She laughed.

“No, no one’s from Vegas, really. That’s rare.” She smiled. “I’m from Minnesota, actually. Good ol’ Midwestern girl.”

“Oh cool. I’ve never been there.” God, what was wrong with me?

We fell silent. I opened my mouth to mention something about her ukulele playing but then stopped myself. It was probably weird to mention watching a girl’s shows, right? How much should I admit I watched? How much was a normal amount to watch?

I was relieved when we pulled into a neighborhood and stopped at a cute Spanish-style house with light brown adobe and a tiled roof. Small pots of cacti lined the steps leading to the front door.

“Is this your house? It’s so cute.”

“Thank you. Luckily, Vegas is actually a cheap place to live. We’ve got three bedrooms here, and it’s less than my one-bedroom back home.”

We got out of the car, and she pulled my suitcase from the back.

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