The Wrath of the Wicked Webcam Ch. 01bysophist801©
I'd been sitting in front of the 32 inch monitor for not more than 20 minutes when the image burst to life in front of me. It was a webcam image that seemed to crawl out of the monitor and grab me by the throat, choking me, slowly delighting in seeing me turn blue as I gasped for precious oxygen. On top of it all the image was smiling ever-so seductively as it did everything possible to entice me, or any other horny male viewer, into a "private" show. I did not need to be enticed twice as I quickly clicked on the tiny red box indicating I wanted a private show with the image and I wanted it now.
It only took a couple of minutes to upload the necessary registration and credit card information before I was granted access to the private "chat". It was far too easy to accomplish access and have the screen saver burst to life with the image of a model dressed in a tiny g-string and low-cut transparent bra that left nothing to the imagination. The model was also wearing a pair of thigh-high black lace stockings and her makeup was heavy, designed to hide as many of her lines as possible.
With another click of my mouse I was now recording the image and all of her movements before me. Even though she was in her mid-forties she was clearly an attractive woman who still had the ability to turn heads and raise the testosterone levels of most men. I was, however, the dear in the headlights and so surprised to see the near naked woman in front of me.
I'd gone online at the suggestion of a friend who knew I was now home alone in the evenings and was becoming more and more frustrated due to lack of affection and sex, sex my lovely wife normally gave without hesitation. Since I lost my job two months ago our financial situation has continued to be difficult so Jocelyn, Jocelyn Marie Combs, the mother of my three children, decided she would go back to work. Jocelyn had never really worked before, even though she had a degree in business from UCLA, finding work in this economy without experience would be difficult. So, she accepted a job working evenings waiting tables and doing banquet work for the Westin Hotel. A good family friend, knowing our situation, was the Maître D and able to get Jocelyn work.
For the last three-and-a-half weeks she has been coming home around midnight and always exhausted. After working 7-8 hours on her feet, carrying trays and cleaning tables, it was easy to understand why she was always interested in showering and going to bed as soon as she got home. Our sex life, effectively, seemed to end. I bit my lip when this happened reminding me that, being out of work, there wasn't much Jocelyn could do but it was important for our family to have the income. I reasoned we would get through this period and we would once again become a family when I found work.
I was optimistic, I had set out many resumes and had a couple of interviews scheduled, but was realistic and patient, knowing something would eventually turn up. So I put my energies into taking care of the children, ages 9, 11 and 13. I cleaned the house, cooked evening meals and made took on several projects around the house like painting the kitchen, repairing cracks in the stucco, repairing leaky faucets and cleaning out the garage. Even though I was missing the love and affection of my lovely wife I was being productive and knew this time would pass.
I returned to the image on my oversized monitor. As I registered with the website I used the name sophist801. Since I did not have time to really thing about a clever user name this came to mind. Socrates was a sophist. The sophist was a teacher who used dialogue and the telling of stories as a way to teach. The dialogue was the primary way for a sophist to get the student to think about the underlying values of a particular lesson.
"Hello luv. How r u?" Now that I had a good, clear image of the middle aged woman on the screen there was no doubt it was my wife Jocelyn. I had gone on line to vicariously relieve some of the sexual tension that had built up over the last few weeks and now, now I was not in the least bit aroused. In fact I was repulsed.
"Not so good. Alone and horny!" I was going to lead her along, record everything, and then provide her with a clear message.
"Sorry sweetie, r u a teacher?" She knew what a sophist is from my ramblings about philosophical concepts and through discussions about dialectical behavior. I winced as she so easily called me sweetie, an endearment she'd used for me for so many years. It was also odd that I could not remember her using the endearment for quite some time.
"Yep. Gonna show me something?" There was no hesitation as Jocelyn wiggled around on what looked like a thatches mat. There were large pastel colored pillows for her to sit on and play peek-a-boo with her watchers. Her bra and thong came off quickly and were carefully laid to her side. I'd never seen the underwear before and was getting angry she'd never worn them for me.
"Nice" I typed quickly.
"Thank you, sweetie." It hurt to hear her use a term sweetie, one of endearment I always thought was reserved for me. Jocelyn was now speaking into the microphone and had stopped typing. Typing her response was interfering with her ability to talk to me, watch her monitor and do what she was going to do next. "What do you like sweetie?"
"Show me your ass hole . . . "
There was no hesitation as she flipped onto her hands and knees and pushed her puckered hole and pussy lips into the screen. She managed to do this and keep her eyes on the monitor. I knew that if I switched to two-way voice communication she would immediately know it was me.
"Now stick your fingers inside of . . ." Before I was finished typing my request Jocelyn had pulled her pussy lips open and a finger disappeared into each hole. If it had been anyone but Jocelyn I might have been turned on and beating my own meat.
"Are are you feeling any better sweetie?" She asked with a throaty seductiveness.
"Some, but I'm still lonely and wish I could fuck your ass." It was rare that, over the years Jocelyn had let me have access to her anally. But when she had she always seemed to enjoy it.
"Oooh, you are naughty. You can fuck my ass if you want." With that she produced a six-or-seven inch black dildo and began to work it into her brown hole. It was well lubricated and seemed to slip in without any difficulty. It only took a couple of minutes for her to begin to moan from her masturbatory efforts. I was stunned that she would so quickly move to doing something like this for a complete stranger.
"I hope you husband likes your ass as much as I do." I typed not really expect a response but was curious how she was going to react and what she might say.
"My ass is only for you, sweetie." For the moment this was a true statement, her ass might as well have belonged to someone else. She had also been too tired and had denied me the last few weeks and this made me begin to seethe, especially since I now knew why she was always tired.
"Turn over and let me see that pussy of yours." Again she did not hesitate. As she reclined on her back she reached down, carful to weave her way through her curly brown hair, to pull open her vaginal lips. She then let one finger lightly stroke her clit, which was hard like a man's erection.
"How's that sweetie? Do you want to fuck me now?" Before she had finished her question two fingers disappeared into her gaping pussy and she moaned softly.
"Your husband is such a lucky man!" I wanted her to begin to think about me even if it was what she thought might be a role play situation.
"This is only for you, luv. My husband could never satisfy me the way you do!" She added a third finger and began to vigorously finger-fuck herself.
I did not respond for a few minutes as Jocelyn obscenely masturbated for the wicked webcam, for me, an anonymous customer supposedly enjoying her simulated display of carnal desire. No wonder she was exhausted every night! To perform like this for 7-8 hours could easily destroy any desire for real loving sex.
"Still with me sweetie?" I had not disconnected do she knew she was still getting paid, that I was probably still watching. Maybe she thought I was quiet because I also masturbating?
"Still feeling lonely? What else can I do to make you happy?" Her voice had a seductive and motherly quality I'd seen her use with our children a hundred times. It was the let-me-kiss-it-and-make-it-all-better response a mother has for her son who had skinned his knew falling off of a bicycle.
"Yeah. I don't think I'm doing any better." I was typing my response. "I miss my wife terribly and am thinking about . . . ." I knew Jocelyn would try and comfort me, even if she thought I was some asshole jerk who just wanted zip less sex.
Then I added, "I guess you can make sure Jimmy, Karen and John" These are the names of our three children "are tucked-in and kissed when you get home." She would now know, or strongly suspect, it was me. Her reaction was to immediately pull her three long sticky goo-covered fingers out of her equally as sloppy pussy. She then tried to cover up but then quickly realized it was a crazy gesture so she sat up straight, adjusted the cam so it focused just on her face.
"Is that you Bobby?" Her face was suddenly twisted with more than concern and it suddenly looked much older than forty-three. Was she suddenly realizing she had acted the part of the absolute slut for her husband, the man she had never done anything like this for?
"Good night Jocelyn. Now that I know what you think of you husband and children it's probably best you sleep someplace other than in my bed." I decided to wait a couple of minutes to see what her response would be, to see if there was embarrassment, remorse, or any other feeling that told me she was hurting.
Jocelyn began to cry, not hiding any of her sudden grief. Her heavy makeup, dark and blue, ran down her cheeks staining Jocelyn's face. It was once a face that had been the most beautiful thing in my life. I couldn't watch anymore as I severed the webcam connection.