Business woman and cam girl on special vacation – part 1

“A little, yeah.”

“I thought we might be.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No. Yes. It confuses me.”

Isabel nodded sagely. “Because I’m a girl?”

“Because you’re young.”

“Not that young.”

“No. I was afraid you’d turn out to be, like, nineteen or something.”

Isabel laughed and nearly spit out a mouthful of wine in the process. “You’re so afraid of being a cradle-robber, aren’t you?”

“Not!”

“You are. You so are.”

“I’m… I’m conscious of the possibility.”

“That’s different how?”

I stared at my glass, twirling it back and forth in my hands. “Do you know what it’s like being a girl first starting in an office full of men? I mean, plenty of women, sure, but like eighty-twenty split, something like that. And most of those men are older. You know, thirties, forties, fifties.”

Isabel’s usual vaguely amused expression faded. “Oh.”

“I mean, it could have been a lot worse. I’m smart and I’m cunning, and probably most importantly I’m lucky. It never got beyond constant appraising looks, and the occasional subtle offer.” I snorted. “From married men as often as not.”

“Hey, V, you don’t have to–“

I shrugged. “It came out alright. I get to boss most of ’em around these days. I just remember what it’s like being young and pretty, and–“

“And you don’t want to be one of those guys, huh?”

“Something like that.”

Isabel was quiet for a while. I was too. We finished our glasses, and I poured us out the remainder of the bottle.

“I don’t see you like that, you know,” she said eventually.

“No, you probably don’t.”

“Was there never, like, some young hot guys around, who maybe if they checked you out you wouldn’t mind so much?”

I smiled cautiously at Isabel. “Maybe.”

“Well there you go.” She sipped more wine. “Besides, if you turned up naked to the office, it’d be hard to blame the dirty old men for staring wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not wrong.”

Isabel considered some more. “Hey, V, you said you’re thirty?”

“Yeah.”

“When was your birthday?”

“… why?”

“Was it recently?”

I sighed. “Last month.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?”

“My brother went through this. He turned thirty, got all crabby about life and getting old.” She tossed an airy hand in the air. “Then after a year or two it was the happiest I’ve ever seen him. It’s just numbers, you know? All pretend. Just ’cause it’s a nice round divisible by ten kinda numbers, people assign all this meaning to it. Doesn’t have to be that way. Doesn’t mean you’re old.”

I tapped my nails on my glass. “I don’t know if it’s that simple.”

“No? Did you feel all this ‘oldness’ and stuff last year?”

“… only when my birthday got closer. And don’t give me that smug look,” I added quickly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Isabel assured me, looking really quite pleased with herself anyway.

I toyed with the idea in my head. “You think that’s all it is? Some kind of early mid-life crisis?”

“Don’t see why not. But hey, I get paid to take my clothes off, not to treat people, so don’t take me too seriously.”

“Good point,” I said, putting a serious dent in my remaining wine. “Speaking of which, let’s talk about you for a while.”

“Haha, oh god no. It’s way more fun cracking into your psyche.”

“Too bad. It’s your turn. Tell me,” I said with as much gravitas as I could muster, “how you ended up getting naked for strangers as a job.”

“Oh god.” Isabel considered her glass. “Do you have more fancy, expensive wine to bribe me with?”

“Yes,” I said solemnly. “I do.”

Once a brief trip back to my cottage later, and with glasses refilled, Isabel started to let me pry some of her secrets out.

“My family doesn’t know anything,” Isabel said.

“I would have assumed as much.”

“Well… I mean more parents know than you’d think. I don’t know if it’s a lot, but definitely some.”

“Fair enough.”

“It’s not, like, what I intended to do.”

“Sure.”

“Just… I mean I’m kind of the cliche of a broke-ass student stripping to get through college. Which these days can include the safety of staying totally online, thank goodness.”

“Cheers to that,” I said, clinking glasses with Isabel.

“It all started as stupid fun, you know?”

“I don’t, but go on.”

“It was like a game, kinda. Like how much can I trick guys into paying me just to take my shirt off. Or my pants. Or, the really funny, weird one, my socks. You know about feet people?”

“I am aware of them.”

“They aren’t any weirder than anyone else, I suppose, but it’s so strange to me. As often as I’d casually go barefoot anyway, some people out there will pay good money to get my socks off me.” Isabel leaned back and waved a hand theatrically. “What a world.”

I snickered at the thought of it. “You know you’re right? Like if I was gonna ask a girl to take something off, it wouldn’t be socks.”

“What would it be?” Isabel asked, her eyes flashing with sudden interest.

“Like one thing?”

“Yeah. Shirt, shorts, socks, panties… what?”

I took an involuntary swipe of my eyes down Isabel’s body and back up again. “I feel like the cunning answer is panties, ’cause you’d have to take your shorts off too.”

“Probably the wise choice,” she agreed. “So panties over bra then?”

“Um….”

“Is that for the pussy or the ass?”

I flushed and restrained myself from taking a long drink. It was nice being all tipsy and talking about way too deep stuff with Isabel, but I didn’t want to get properly drunk here.

READ PART 2