I shouldn’t feel sad. I’m sure I could get just as much attention and I’m aware that it’s not real. You’re feeding into fantasy as I used to do – just for money. I shouldn’t feel jealous. You’re only talking to them in the way you never did to me – and for as much as I said I love flirting and talking dirty. Listening to guys talk to you, about you, making you their eye candy. I feel a bit unnerved but I know you’re doing it for the money.
In five minutes you’ve made enough money to buy yourself a sandwich by showing off your body. I’d be a hard buy…
I shouldn’t feel sad or angry. You first brought this up as something we could both do together. It feels a little painful though, peeking in and you not knowing. You’re making a couple dollars on your day off by showing your body to strangers.
Then again, there’s a limit to how many times a guy can orgasm on screen. A gal can fake it. I think I’d be faking it if I were on that screen. Truth is, I wouldn’t sell myself cheep and make people “work” for it. Even then there’s no certainty they’ll get a real orgasm out of me and I just might learn to get good at faking it.
I shouldn’t feel sad you’re camming. You look miserable during the moments there’s nobody in the room. You’ve been going at this for hours and having orgasmed. I’m sure it’s painful since you’ve been idly stroking for a few hours straight. Peeking in, you look more erect than I’ve seen you in a while – or it could just be the way your boxers are draping around your form. I almost pity you… but it’s work. It’s your first day. It’s early evening. I suppose it’s only natural that it would be rough too. Self control and increasing tempo of your idle strokes… That’s a good enough free show in itself.
You’re freely telling people of moments we’ve shared. You’re bragging about prowess I certainly haven’t seen from you.
Still, while it’s all a “game”… a pitch for money… it stings a little. Maybe, it stings more than it should as you beg for release and their money.