(note: this is not me in the picture, I just really REALLY enjoy this guy)
Alright, I have to warn the children on this one. It's kind of dirty. If you're familiar some of my early work, then this won't faze you. And if you're a family member reading this, you might just want to skip it. Please.
Anyway. There is a certain website I frequent that consists of guys and webcams and you can type/chat at the same time. The guys come in an extreme variety. There are plenty of SUPER sizzling hot guys to check out doing all sorts of naughty things, and there are of course some nasty things you would wish you hadn't seen. Like a man sticking an entire eggplant up his ass, then shooting it out. FOR REALSIES. Oldies, and fatties, and fisting, OH MY! The point is that there is something for everyone there.
I mostly just browse. Brady is always sending me links to guys with giant cocks (he's a size queen), but I'm more into guys who are serving FACE. He does know what I like and throws me a bone every now and again. Before this story, I had on one occasion performed before. It was while I was on vacation (sorry, Sunshine! you were just downstairs), and I was feeling particularly sexy in this hot asymmetrical harness I picked up at an SF leather store. It was a liberating experience, and a total boost in confidence. My self-esteem had been dealt some blows this year from some shitty guys and bad dating experiences, so the attention was welcome. I imagine it comes from the similar place of issues that motivates strippers to do what they do. I felt very desired and didn't have to deal with any jackasses in person to do it. I also have really good moneyshots, so there's that.
Last weekend, I was in a mood, and decided to sniz it up on cam. It was really fun, and I put on a little show. Some people prefer to just tease until they find someone to go off and private with or Skype/MSN/whatever. I think that's rude. Give the people what they want, to an extent. There will always be the people who write in all caps what they want from you. COCK. ASS. SHOW HEAD (that would be the head of the penis). FEET. TOES. Of course, do only what is comfortable for you. There is a surprisingly large number of people with foot fetishes on there. Whatever, I'm cool with that. Damn I just tried to find a post I thought I did about a guy with a foot fetish, but I guess I never shared that one. . . I suppose I'll have to write that up soon.
Anyway, three nights ago I had the notion to relive my experience, and I logged on. I was just chatting for a while, letting people compliment me, yada yada, and I had only just taken my shirt off when someone (without a picture) said I looked familiar. Great. Of all the thousands of viewers and hundreds of broadcasters, someone I know finds me. He asked where I was, and I told him Illinois. Then he hinted at the city, and I said yes. He said he recognized my tattoo. Fuck. There goes my career in anonymous porn, unless I get some tat coverup from Sephora. Mental note. I asked if he worked close to me, because I thought he might have been the guy from Snizdr I mentioned in the previous post. But no. He hinted that we see each other often and have personally met, but that didn't really help me. Instead of being creeped out as perhaps a normal person would be, I was intrigued. The next clue helped me narrow it down to a certain event I go to every week, so my next guess was that he was a guy I slept with some years ago who also attends. Wrong. I forget if there was something specific, but it dawned on me who it must be, and I just had to smile. I was not expecting it to be him. As far as the show went, I did clam up. It felt awkward, and I really enjoy the weekly event, so I didn't want to ruin that. We exchanged messenger information and chatted for a little while, and I left the viewers disappointed that night.
The following night I was back for more, and without the guy who spooked me present, I snizzed it up like never before and loved every minute of it. Cut to last night. By the way, I think I'm getting addicted to this shit, so I need to back off. I can't help that I have issues and crave the adoration of strangers. I should probably work on that. Whatever. Anyway, last night as I was getting going, I think the shirt might have been off already, I can't recall, Spook shows up again. We exchange witty banter for a while, and he offered to leave the viewing if it made me uncomfortable. Honestly, it kind of did, but I feel like it shouldn't, so I wanted to work through it. I just warned him that I would be closing our chat. Knowing he's watching is one thing, but having him direct me is quite another. When it came down to it, I did the deed, but my nerves definitely got to me. I was nervous and even though they seemed to like it, I felt my performance was lacking. It just didn't seem as exciting as it should have, and I attribute that to being self-conscious about Spook being there. In the future, if he's there, I think it would be best to log out for it. Although he won't be able to chat or react, I won't hold back because I feel a little funny. And I don't mind that he's seen it, it's just one of those out of sight, out of mind things.
We'll see what happens. It's fun and everything, but I'm sure people will get tired of me. The thing is with all the people on there, you're bound to find someone who loves what you've got. It's a great system. There are 60-year-old men with assholes stretched out like a wool cap pounding themselves with machines, and there are plenty of viewers who LOVE LOVE LOVE it and praise them for it. It reminds me of what Adele Givens had to say in The Queens of Comedy. It's something like "if you bucktoothed, baby, don't worry. There's a man in the house right now don't want nothin' less than a bitch that can bite an apple through a picket fence." I have a regular who claims he's in Dubai and coming to the States next year for university. Sure. He's in love. I will never, ever be telling him any detailed personal information. A good friend of mine once told me DON'T GET MURDERED, and I plan on taking her advice.
