The Camgirl

[contains sex scenes]

She stretched her limbs, star-fishing indulgently in the warmth of the bed. She could hear the stovetop percolator bubbling and the rich aroma of coffee floated through the house. Smiling to herself, she revelled in the moment. He appeared at the doorway wearing cotton boxer shorts, chest bare. God, he was sexy. Thick dark hair curled around the nape of his neck and a small smile hung loosely, casually, teasingly across his sun-tanned face. He brought her coffee over to the bed; he had chosen her favourite mug, by a local potter, all teal and brown swirls. They had barely been dating a month, but he seemed to notice little details like that, spoiling her with everyday acts of sweetness. As he padded back out to the kitchen, she reached for her phone on the dresser.

“OMG, he just brought me coffee in bed!” – she typed out to her best friend.

“He is SUCH a keeper!” came the fast reply. She laughed at that. We’ll see…

Once he had delivered her coffee to the bedroom, he wandered out to the balcony and watched the breaking waves in the distance. He wondered how upset she would be if he left for a surf before breakfast. It probably wouldn’t go down well. But the easterly swell would die off by lunch time, and well, he couldn’t see the relationship going anywhere anyway… He weighed his options. He was trying so hard to settle into this one. He had been on his own for so long and he craved companionship. But his attempts to bring her into his world had so far been a flop. She feared the ocean and hated the cold. She seemed more interested in getting photos for Insta than in having meaningful experiences. If he was honest with himself, he was only going out with her because she looked so much like a camgirl he watched a lot – the eery sense of familiarity had left him feeling incredibly turned on, yet also very shy around her. If only he could find a girl that playful and kinky in real life. Did girls like that exist in New Zealand? Dream on, he thought.

“I’m just ducking out for a surf - I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” he called, making for his truck.

She smiled as she set down her coffee cup and reached under the bed for her satchel of sex toys. He really was so vanilla. Now she had the morning to do her own thing. Slipping into a sheer lace bodysuit, she tousled her bed hair and smudged on a charcoal eyeliner. Eyeing her reflection in the ensuite mirror, she blew herself a kiss. Looking hot. She set up her phone to film the bed and started to unpack an array of vibrators and toys. Mmm, Sunday mornings were so fun.

At lunch time she laid out a blue and white checked tablecloth on the back lawn, with a selection of homemade pickles, yesterday’s sourdough loaf and cheeses from the farmer’s market. She added a bottle of wine and two glasses as she considered what would be the best camera angle to capture the scene. He arrived, kissing her on the head and complimenting the spread, as she set up her tripod. She got him to pose for a few snaps, pouring the wine, or draping his arms around her. He asked after her morning, and she told him she’d stayed in bed for at least another hour.

“You must have needed the rest!” he looked so earnest. A smirk pulled at her lips, and she looked away. Was he so naïve? She tried to find it endearing, but she longed for him to pull her to him, to suggest that he needed some of that extra time in bed too, to pull her hair, hold her by the throat and tell her she was his to do with as he wished. She shivered deliciously at the thought.

She asked about his surf, but hardly listened to his answer. They basked in the warm sun. She snuggled into him, breathing in his salty masculine smell. She felt so safe and comfortable, encircled within his strong arms. Could they make these moments last? She wished they had more in common, wanted to talk about the sci fi book she was currently devouring – her favourite genre - or confess what she truly did for a living; she had told him she was a barista. At least if she could collate enough cute photos, she could fool her family for a while, keep them off her back. And he was so fricking hot. So, she made small talk about the weather, and the Netflix show they had watched the night before, and wondered how long this could last.

He lay back, catching himself from blurting out the latest he had read about Elon Musk’s plans to land humans on Mars. Don’t be boring. Girls don’t wanna talk about space. He was pleased that she didn’t seem to have minded him disappearing for a surf – his last girlfriend hated him bailing on Sunday morning cuddles. Maybe they weren’t such a bad match. This sure felt nice. Was that the effect of wine and sunshine, post-surf afterglow, or genuine connection? He leaned in and kissed her deeply, tilting her head up to meet his. Looking into her deep brown eyes, he was taken aback once again by how much she looked like the camgirl. He stroked her hair, wondering what it would be like to date a girl like that. He wondered if she would let him take her right there in the backyard. Whether she would be wearing sexy lingerie under that sweet summer dress. Would she call him Daddy? These thoughts flustered him, and he felt a rush of guilt for having them while in her presence. What kind of guy was he? Thank God she couldn’t read his thoughts.

They had met on a dating app, as everyone did these days. His profile had admittedly been very vanilla for the kinky app they were using, but she had assumed he’d withheld sharing preferences online for privacy reasons – hers was on the conservative side too, New Zealand feeling too much like a village sometimes. Either way, she couldn’t go past his photos. Those bright blue eyes, long surfer hair, and strong lean body – she imagined all the naughty things she’d like to do to him. But over the weeks they had been dating, she had been yet to see a kinky side emerge. She held back herself, not wanting to scare him off. It had been so long since anyone had cleared her impossibly high standards, she wanted to keep him around for a while, even if it wasn’t a perfect match. She already suspected she wasn’t his dream girl, not being a surfer, so she didn’t want to accumulate further strikes against her. She looked for little ways to reciprocate his sweetness, withheld parts of herself she thought were too unusual, and ignored the part of her that longed for more. When they made love, she tried to lose herself in the sensations but couldn’t help feeling frustrated with how he handled her so delicately, almost cautiously, as though she were unspeakably delicate. She sought to match his energy, reigning in her passion, while her eyes roamed his body hungrily. It was like an itch she couldn’t fully scratch… She wondered how long she could keep this up.

He logged onto the cam site for the third time that week. Finally – she was online. He felt his pulse quicken as he clicked through to watch her. He pushed the laptop across his bed as he made himself comfortable. Fuck, she was so hot. He didn’t think he could ever get sick of watching her. A message came across the screen: ‘I wanna know where everyone is watching from! Post in the comments and let me know!’ A string of emojis followed: kiss, wink, eggplant, splash, kiss, kiss. He smiled, wondering if she had any other followers in NZ, and leaned over to type his reply: Dunedin, New Zealand. A few minutes later, he was surprised to see a DM pop up.

“Dunedin, eh? Have we met before?” another string of emojis winked and laughed.

He stared at the screen in confusion. Did she mean… Surely, she couldn’t live here. He had assumed this girl was from somewhere cool and sexy, California or New York. When she spoke on the livestreams, she had a soft, purring American accent. Could she have a sister? He felt his thoughts start to spiral. Oh god, what if he was dating her sister? The thought was too horrifying. He logged off, closed his laptop and took deep breaths.

The next time she came over he found himself scrutinising her anew. He searched her face, every acre of bare skin, looking for clues – of what, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re being weird…” she squirmed under his gaze.

“Sorry. I am being weird, aren’t I? You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that, right?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Ok… Thanks.”

“I mean it. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

He tried to lay his confusion to rest, losing himself in the scent of her, the softness of her skin, the wetness of her mouth. Why was he so hung up on some internet girl, when he had such a babe right here on his couch?

Later that night, unable to sleep, he snuck into the living room and began to look at pictures of the camgirl, wondering what she was doing. He burned with shame as he swiped through, his girl sleeping in the next room, getting hard despite his conscience. He gave in to his weakness, slipping ear buds in and hitting play on one of her videos. She was wearing a pale pink lace bra that he could see her nipples through. Her breasts were perky and round. She reached for a blue vibrator from her bedside table and switched it on. He reached for his cock and started to stroke. He soon lost all sense of where he was, and before he knew it, he was moaning out loud as he came right there on the couch. An unexpected noise caused him to look up. She was standing behind him, with a clear view of both the screen he had been watching and the mess he had made. Oh no, no, no, no…

“It’s not what it looks like! I, ah…”

She started to laugh, first a low chuckle, but soon a deep belly laugh, doubling over, tears building at the corners of her eyes. He wondered what was so funny. Was the camgirl really her sister? Would that be funny to her?

“You never thought to mention that you watch my videos?” She asked, wiping her eyes.

“Your videos?”

She gestured at his phone, raising one eyebrow.

“Your videos. Your videos. Oh my god… I’m such a fucking idiot.”

She collapsed into laughter again. “You didn’t… You thought…” She gulped air, trying to steady herself. “What, did you think you were dating a girl who looked JUST like her?”

He blushed from his scalp to his toes. “Ummm… Maybe.”

Her face was almost as red as his, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Fuck, and I thought you were so vanilla. I’ve been dying to pull my toys out.”

“Are you serious?” Wide eyed, he pulled her to him. “Can we?”

She gripped him with her thighs, a wide grin on her face.

 “I wonder what else we have to learn about each other?”

 He looked forward to finding out.