This Is Who I Am, This Is What I Do

Oh, yes, they had progressed. He seemed such the romantic, and I liked everything I had seen from him. He had even lost with grace and dignity last month when Andrew had beaten him out for the live cam. I felt a little bad for him, but I still wanted Andrew on Saturday, so I posted. "Blitzen, that was so sweet!! I can feel your hands and they would be so soft and gentle. Your lips feel electric. But please do remember what we share here is not real and I feel so bad that you are spending so much for a dinner."

I was still online when a few minutes later his response appeared. "Andrea, I know that only dinner is promised and I would never demand anything more. Also, feel not one iota of guilt for the money I spend. I spend it freely and any problems that may arise are mine and mine alone. And, no, this is not a problem."

How much money did this guy have and how much was he willing to spend? I messaged "Andy's hope," Andrew's moniker on my page. "Andy, I know you really want to win this, but I will think no less of you if you do not. I do very much want you to win, but I also know this is ridiculously expensive." As I watched they both increased their subscriptions to just over 26K, and Andrew had done it after I had messaged him.

He messaged me back. "It is not a problem, and I am doing all I can, but he has deeper pockets than I expected. I very much intend to win though. You are worth every penny I spent so far."

Sleep did not come easily, but finally I slept as I reassured myself that Andrew would not let me down. However, the first thought I had when I awoke was that nothing was guaranteed. The week crawled until Wednesday when Andy's bid of $36K went unanswered. It appeared that Blitzen had finally yielded. Pictures were posted and comments were made and the week slid along. The week officially would end Friday at midnight and the week after that I would be in NYC with Andrew.

Friday I spent the night at Amy's. We ordered pizza, but I was not terribly hungry. I drank a beer, and then another beer and then a few shots as I incessantly kept watch checking my page. Nothing changed. Amy persuaded me to stop drinking, reminding me that I had a long day ahead of me tomorrow. Would Blitzen try to snipe? I should have put in a rule to prevent sniping. The analog clock, so anachronistic in Amy's tech filled house, surrounded by some of the finest computers (and many of the parts thereof) strewn about the place, crept its tick-tocking self every so slowly forward.

Thirty minutes, still nothing; then twenty and still nothing and ten, still noth...Blitzen posted. "Sniping is foul play, so I will give ten minutes. This is my final bid. If my unnamed rival can match it, then I yield in good grace." He then upped his sponsorship for $76,000.

"That can't be real," I said.

"The credit card cleared, otherwise it would not post," Amy said, reminding me of what I very well knew.

"But who would spend $76,000? That is utterly insane." Then I thought of Andrew.

I messaged him through my page, "Andy, this is silly. Don't be silly about this."

He messaged back, "Oh, I won't let you get away that easily. I just need a minute."

My software- writer hands flew across the keyboard with a thunderous rattle of keys, "Andy, I really wanted you to win. You were so sweet in the live cam and so sweet all the time, but this is too much."

"I can do it."

"Okay, this month you could do it, but next month?"

A minute, maybe two slipped by. Then he answered, "Does there have to be a next month?"

"Andy, this is what I do. I hope you don't hate me for that."

"Hate you, never. Are you really okay with this?"

"It's what I do. I'll be fine."

"You best be fine. You are far too nice a person for anyone to let something bad happen to you."

"Thank you, Andrew." The minutes slipped by. Midnight struck and there was no careening carriage turning back into a pumpkin and there was no lost shoe, this was no fantasy, and I was no princess. I just sold myself, at least for a dinner date, to someone who was almost a total stranger.

I started to cry, staring at the screen. Through a throat choked with tears I croaked, "Amy do feel free to say I told you so whenever you are ready."

*****************************************************************************************************

Amy just hugged me and held me. I shut off the computer, still sobbing, and then I turned and cried on her shoulder. Finally the tears passed. "What are you going to do?" my closest friend whispered.

I whispered, almost to myself, "It is what I do." I paused and took a deep breath. "I am going to go to NYC to meet someone for dinner."

"Just dinner?"

"He just paid me $75,000.."

"Seventy-six thou..."

"Whatever!! 75? 76? What difference does it...Jesus, am I really in a world where a thousand dollars doesn't matter? But Amy, I owe him more than a dinner!!"

"No, you owe him dinner, nothing more."

I nodded, "Okay, I owe him dinner, but he deserves more. He has never done anything but be classy, and, Amy, it is a fortune. No one pays that."

"Well, apparently not no one." She sighed, "But you don't even know him. Going off to NYC to go meet someone you sexted with online is not considered a smart move."

"Amy, there are police officers and coal miners who take much worse risks for less pay."

"First the website gets 20% and I get 10% of what is left, so he is only paying *you* about $50,000. Second, what if you just gave the money back and canceled?"

"That would be very shitty and very unprofessional!" I decried. Amy, I have to do this. I said I would and I will."

"Do what?"

"Go to NYC, what else?" I almost shouted.

"You said he deserves more than dinner, so you are doing more than dinner. So what are you doing?" Amy sat there, calm, but concerned. I stared at her angry and speechless. "And why are you yelling at me? You have a week to figure this out, less as you are going to have to answer him tomorrow."

"I'm sorry Amy. I am scared, but I need to go. I did only promise dinner, and I can make it a long dinner. If he is a jerk, I leave and if not...then I guess I play it by ear." My voice was tentative, Amy was right. We needed a plan and this was the beginning.

"And if he is a jerk and demands more?" Amy calmly asked without panic, or recrimination

"Well, I will be in a public restaurant so I can just call a car or even call the cops," I responded, nodding to myself. Calling cops would be extreme, but the option is there.

"And if he seems alright you take him back to the hotel?"

"Yeah, I guess so, but what will he expect when I do that?"

"Better cover that clearly at dinner. And then if he turns into a jerk there?"

"I need a way to call for help, but who?"

Amy smiled and shrugged, "I guess me. No other alternative, although maybe your dad is free Saturday night." Amy gave a casual shrug.

I threw a pizza crust at her. "Not funny, not funny at all. But I guess you are right. Want to come to NYC on Saturday? We can drive up in my car."

"Sure, I can come. Exactly how much help I will be I don't know, but we can figure out something"

I grabbed her hand. "Look at me Amy. I am scared, but you convinced me that we can figure out a safe way to do this. Also, you have read everything Blitzen has written. Most likely he is exactly who he seems to be."

Amy nodded, "Let's make it work.

The next morning I woke up early and started my computer with trepidation. Being queen of procrastination I first looked through the comments of everyone else. Overall people were very happy. I loved reading the wide variety of comments. Some were crude, which still made me cringe. Really, if one was twelve, comments like "NICE TITTIES!! YOU ARE SO FUCKING HOT!! I WANT MY DICK IN YOU!!!" might sound mature and get respect from your peers, although even for that age it is not exhibiting the best of humanity. However, no one who is twelve has a credit card, but, regardless, I no longer took it personally.

Many others were much classier. Many were just simple compliments, although I loved the ones that were specific about how the shot was posed or how the light hit a certain part of my body. A few wrote vignettes much like Blitzen would do. I spent a few hours enjoying answering and perusing those comments.

Then I finally turned my attention to the two messages I had been avoiding. Andrew first.

Andrea,

I am so sorry. I never thought this would happen. I guess it is nice there is at least one other person who sees you the way I do. You are very special and I so much and for so many reasons wanted to be together with you in NYC.

Yours,

Andy

I wrote back:

Andy

I think it will be okay, although I so wanted you to win as well. When I was taking the photos and making the videos this month, I was thinking of you. I imagined your hands on me; my hands on you. At least we will have the live cam together and we did enjoy it last time. When would you want to do it and, more importantly, what do you want me to wear? I have a little cottage where I filmed it last time. I think I will try to use it again, I think of it as our little cottage. Does that sound nice?

Love,

Andrea

I cried a little in frustration. I paused to collect myself; this is what I do. Lots of jobs have emotional costs and this one is no different. That was very true, very much what I wanted to hear; maybe it was only what I wanted to hear. No matter, Blitzen is next.

Andrea,

From previous conversations we have had, I think you are probably pretty nervous about next Saturday. Let me start by trying to reassure you. First, the money means little to me; I can afford it. Do not feel guilty as though I have cashed in my pension to do this. Second, I was scheduled to be in NYC that week anyways, so this is not any major inconvenience to me either. Third, my comments on your photos are fantasies. Pleasant ones, but just fantasies and certainly not expectations. You promised me a dinner. Dinner is all I expect. I do expect a lingering dinner and I do hope it will not be ruined by you thinking I have unreasonable expectations.

As for the dinner itself, I would like it to be very nice. I also want you to put yourself up in the very best of places. Don't merely get a hotel room, but get a suite. I am sending you an additional payment of $10,000. If at all possible, find places in Midtown on the Eastside as I will be in that area.

Is there anything else I need to know and is there anything else you want to ask me?

Yours,

Blitzen

PS Forgive how formal this letter sounds. I simply felt so unsure. If I felt too familiar, it might be scary. But this feels too formal. I think of it this way. On your page we are close imaginary friends exploring intimacy. In reality we are relative strangers who have built some level of mutual respect and trust so far. Speaking of trust, my real first name is Tarik. Please do not make that public.

In faith and trust,

Tarik

I read the letter four times. His writing reminded me of Andrew in that he really seemed to be thinking about how I felt. I thought for a while and went downstairs to make some coffee. It was so surreal moving through the kitchen around my mom as she was mixing the bread dough for tonight's dinner. "Dad, do you want me to make another pot of coffee?" I shouted into the dining room where he was reading the Wall Street Journal. He loves his hard copy print newspaper almost as much as he loves his coffee."

"No, Val, I'm good. I'll make more later. What are you up to today?"

"Computer stuff. Maintaining my webpage, doing some coding for it, and Amy and I will being doing some coding together."

"How is your website doing?"

"Really, really well. I simply cannot believe how much people will pay for stuff."

"Very true; we waste money on most everything"

"Ain't that the truth," I called back as I headed back upstairs. If you only knew, dad, if you only knew. I sat down at my computer to write.

Tarik,

Your letter was very kind and thoughtful. Although it did read very formal, I really appreciate why you made it so formal. Also, thank you for the money for the trip to NYC. I know you keep saying that the money is unimportant to you, but still thank you. I will look at places today and ask you how you feel about them.

You are right that I am nervous, and I have never done anything like this but your letter truly helped. At the very least I can promise that dinner will be as long as you want. I cannot promise anything more than that right now, but I am also not promising only that.

For our date, I can be flexible about the time, so tell me when you want me to make the reservations. Also, you do get to pick my outfit if you would like? You can see me in clothes I already wore, send me a link to an outfit, or even just ask me to use my imagination.

Looking forward to seeing you Saturday (albeit nervously).

Andrea

PS Forgive me. Andrea is not my real name, but it will have to do. I do like the name and here on this site (and in NYC) I am Andrea. She is a little braver than the real me.

Andrea

Then I waited. Tarik answered first.

Andrea,

I like the name Andrea too. Seven in the evening sounds fine. I have to work on Saturday, and don't finish until five. As for clothing, I liked the forest green blouse you wore, I thought it beautiful, elegant and befitting your eyes. However, I do have a love of long skirts. Maybe this would interest you. I also love long boots, buy a nice pair that goes well with the outfit. Stockings far preferred over hose. I know I may never see this, but I did love the red lingerie you wore under that cute white dress with the red polka dots. However, black, white or forest green might go best with that shirt.

Yours,

Tarik

I clicked on the accompanying link. There was a picture of a forest green velvet skirt with a beautiful floral print design in black. The floral design almost could have been a frieze on a Greek temple. It was simply beautiful. I started to think that Saturday might be just fine, and I spent an hour looking at restaurants and hotels. I was still working on that when Andy's, or should I say Andrew's) letter came in.

Andrea,

I think of you often also. The webcam would be nice and I like to think of the cottage as ours. I know you will be busy on Saturday (and it saddens me that I won't be there, but could Friday evening work? I have no idea when you would leave for NYC, so it might not work. If not, maybe the Saturday after?

As for clothing, I loved watching you undress, so maybe some more layers. Could you wear the dress with the red and white polka dots, with the matching nightgown underneath and then the red bustier and panties? By the way I know I might not see more than the dress. Nothing is promised aside from you being on camera.

Andy

I wrote back immediately,

Andy,

Friday sounds fine, but let's make it 8 pm. I have stuff to do earlier. Nothing is owed aside from me being on camera, but I can promise you a lot more. I really enjoyed the last show and I think we will both very much enjoy this show. I think the outfit sounds splendid. Should I wear stockings? If so, red, white, nude, or black? Did you like the way I talked to you last time? Was it too forward?

Andrea

Andy answered quickly and lovingly, saying he wanted no stockings and he loved me turning into a JOI session; it stopped him from making it too fast. Lastly, I wrote to Tarik, letting him know I loved his outfit idea and would have it ready. I also sent him the name of the restaurant and told him to ask for the table under my name. I did not share the hotel I was staying at, as I was not sure if he would ever see it. Strangely felt no guilt as I set up these two separate trysts. Everyone involved knew what was happening. I could dwell on my moral failings, but I do what I do. I never thought I would be willing to show so much, to do so much and to go so far, but I also never imagined the money I would make. It is said that everyone has a price. I guess I found mine.

However, Saturday still gave me pause. How would it work and what exactly would I do to earn that money? What should I do? What was I willing to do live in front of a stranger? How would I feel about it? I really had no idea. Play it by ear and go one step at a time. What else could I do?

I told my parents I would be in NYC with Amy for a computer coding conference. They did not have many questions, but I registered for it. My dad asked me if I needed help paying for the hotel room. There was no telling dad, I actually would be staying in a $2000 a night suite all paid for, so I just told him Amy was paying for it as I was doing all the driving. They thought I would leave Friday night. The plan was for me to go to the cottage and do the cam show and then pick up Amy in the morning.

During the week Amy and I discussed logistics and security. Amy would be at the bar of the restaurant watching for signs of trouble. If I went to the bathroom and came back with my hair changed or dropped my fork and picked it up with my left hand, I was not going to take him back to the hotel. If he followed me when I left, she would follow and call for help if needed. Spinning my watch would signal that I was taking him back to the hotel but I was nervous and she should listen closely for trouble. If I left arm-in-arm with him it meant I was very comfortable. No signal would mean I was pretty comfortable, but to be alert.

Amy also got the room below the suite and we got two small Wi-Fi cameras and mics that respond to programmed voice commands. The cameras would be out of sight, and Amy would listen for trouble over the mics if they were on. The mics would be off unless I signaled to Amy that I was not comfortable or if I turned them on. Amy would be able to turn both on in the suite over the Wi-Fi network controlling them, and I could turn them on by saying, "Let's not go there, okay?"

We bought some nice outfits to wear to the hotel and decided to park in a nearby garage as our car might raise the suspicions of the hotel staff. Not many suite guests drive a Honda Fit. We also bought two carry-on suitcases that were quite nice. We would check in separately, Amy an hour before me. Butterflies filled my stomach for I was wandering into unknown and possibly dangerous waters.

*******************************************************************************************

Butterflies filled me for Friday, but ones of longing. I still had Andrew's computer hacked and I had collected a number of videos of him masturbating, but I had watched none of them. I wanted this to seem fresh and new. I had the same cottage rented and would bring the same equipment except for an upgrade to my camera so it would track me automatically. I could zoom and change the vertical manually with a small remote.

School work (grades suffering a bit), regular family life with all of the guilt and lies that came with that, some page maintenance and running my business filled the time until Friday came. I finished class at 4:30 and got my gear from home, promising to text my parents when I got to NYC. It started to rain as I drove over to the cottage, but thankfully did not pour. My gear bag was water resistant, but not waterproof. On the way over I grabbed a light salad for dinner; I was not feeling hungry. I also brought some more Drambuie.

Arriving at the cottage I set up like before. The dresser would be out of any camera angles and would be where I would have my two monitors. The smaller one showing me, so I could see what Andrew could see. The second, actually the cottage's large TV, would show Andrew so I could watch him watching me. This time I would have two cameras. The webcam on my laptop for the beginning and then the tracking high quality camera on a tripod in the bedroom. I set a hotkey to switch between cameras. Then I had my Bluetooth keyboard and trackball to control the computer and my phone which would get his comments.