Chapter 8
EIGHT
MADDOX
I only make it a week and a day before I give in and make an account on the cam girl site.
Again, I’m blaming it on Austin. Seeing her at the diner today made me wonder if she might be RedRanger, but the odds of that were downright ridiculous. The world wasn’t that small.
While struggling to find a username that wasn’t already taken, I rationalized this moment of weakness by telling myself it was safer to jack off to a cam girl than fuck around with my little sister’s best friend.
Red was sitting on her bed, wearing scraps of lace that didn’t hide a damn thing with how wide her legs were spread, not that I was going to complain about it. Her hair was down this time, red with a slight curl to it and it made it even harder to push Austin out of my mind.
“Ooh, new subscriber,” she coos as she trails her nails down her thighs. “Welcome, Mustached Rancher.”
The teasing lilt in her voice makes me think the username is just as stupid as I thought it was. Maybe Austin was alone in finding mustaches attractive.
“You must be shy,” she says when I don’t respond in the chat. “That’s okay. Everyone’s shy at first. What should I call you?”
My lips quirk with a half-smile at the déjà vu.
MustachedRancher: Guestie has a nice ring to it.
I wish I could see her face. She sits up straighter, her hands stopping their sensual tracing for just a second before they start again.
DamnDan: Not this guy again.
BigDickRich: We might as well log out.
Munch3000: What? Why? Who is he?
BigDaddy69: Nah, they were hot as fuck together the other night. I’m sticking around.
Red hums like she agrees with the last guy and it makes my cock twitch. “Now boys, there’s plenty of me to go around. Guestie, you’re not a guest anymore, so that name doesn’t quite fit. Hmm, what to call you…”
I strip my pants off while she thinks on it, grinning ear-to-ear.
“Ooh, how about Liar? Now that has a ring to it. I think it fits pretty nicely since you lied to me about making an account right away. I’m hurt, Guestie,” she says.
I highly doubt she actually is, but my chest practically puffs at the idea of her missing me—of me standing out among these other men.
MustachedRancher: I figured I’d give the other chumps a chance. Didn’t know you’d miss me this much. Was the orgasm that good?
“Eh. Mediocre at best.”
I bark out a laugh. I can’t help it. She’s such a fucking brat and I love it.
MustachedRancher: Sure, baby. Keep telling yourself that.
“You know,” she says, hands trailing her body again. “I have a bit of a thing for mustached ranchers, actually.”
DamnDan: Of course she does.
MustachedRancher: Is that so? Know any in real life?
She doesn’t have any sort of drawl to her voice, but I guess she could be the type who likes visiting the rodeo when it rolls through town. She laughs. “More than you’d believe.” She sticks her fingers under the hips of her panties and starts pulling them down.
MustachedRancher: Don’t recall saying you could do that.
“Don’t recall you tipping me two-fifty again either, so why would I obey you?” she quips.
I snort. I don’t think the money had anything to do with her obeying me, but I don’t want to keep holding up her show and cause her to lose tips since I can’t pay for a private show.
No matter how badly I want her all to myself, I’ve got a ranch hand that needs a raise so he can build my little sister a house. I have a feeling those private shows could become addictive. The last thing I want to admit to Mama is that we lost the ranch because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants.
MustachedRancher: Fair enough, Red.
“So glad I have your approval, sir.”
I spit in my hand and wrap it around my cock, grinning.
After a week and a half of Red’s attention being split between myself and her other subscribers, I can’t take it anymore. I drop another $250 and watch the chat light up with complaints from the others.
She stills and then reaches over to the little wireless mouse she keeps on her nightstand. “Well, boys, it’s been fun, but Mr. Rancher has finally bought a private show. Be back in an hour unless he drops another $250,” she teases.
A pop-up appears on my screen—an invitation to join a private room with her. I accept it and another one comes up, asking for camera and mic permissions, which I immediately decline. No way in hell.
“All talk, no action, Rancher?” Red jokes as soon as her video connects. The layout is different. There’s still a chat box, but the existing conversation from the main chat is gone. I type a response.
MustachedRancher: I’m not being paid, so why should I show off?
She laughs in that way I like to pretend is just for me, playing with her pierced nipples through the fabric of her sheer bra.
“I see how it is. Alright, Rancher, I seem to recall you being a little bossy, so I assume that’s how you want to spend your two-fifty?”
MustachedRancher: Smart girl.
She hums, fingering with the strap of her bra now. “Why don’t we make this a bit more interesting? Are you interested in a couple of rounds of Strip, Truth or Dare?”
I snort.
MustachedRancher: What are we? Teenagers?
“Scared you’ll lose?” she mocks. “I’ll go first. Strip, truth or dare?”
MustachedRancher: I never agreed to this.
She’s quiet, her hands stilling and her legs closing. After a few seconds, I realize she’s using my tactic from our first chat against me. I have to pinch my sweatpants and pull them away from my dick as it chubs up.
MustachedRancher: Dare.
She’ll have no way of knowing if I comply or not anyway.
“I hoped you’d say that,” she says, and I can hear the grin in her voice. “Turn your camera and mic on.”
Shit.
I think for a second, trying to figure out a way out of it because I’m sure as hell not comfortable being nude in front of a camera like she is.
MustachedRancher: One or the other. You can’t ask for a twofer on one dare.
“Alright, that’s fair,” she agrees. “The mic then. For now.”
I wipe my sweaty palms on my thighs and click the mic on the screen, giving the site permission I’d denied it earlier.
“Hey,” I say gruffly and curse at myself internally. I wouldn’t call myself smooth, but I could do better than that at least.
Either way, she stiffens. It’s awkward and quiet, my confidence taking a hit. I move my cursor over the X in the corner of the screen, but she finally speaks up.
“Your voice is even hotter than I thought it would be.”
I breathe out a laugh, raking my hand over my face as though it’ll help the nerves. “Yeah?”
She hums. “Still thinking you might’ve been all talk though.”
“Guess you’ll have to take that ridiculous bra off to find out,” I tell her. I wouldn’t call myself an expert on lingerie, but it doesn’t seem to be doing any of the things a bra’s supposed to do.
“You didn’t give me the options,” she reminds me with a pouty tone.
“Fine. Strip, truth or dare, brat?”
“Strip.”
I blink, not that she can see me. She doesn’t move and we’re locked in a strange stand-off for a second. “Take your bra off,” I repeat pointedly.
“Okay,” she sing-songs, reaching behind herself. I rub a hand over my mustache to push back a smile at her button-pushing.
“Mmm, fuck. Those pretty tits have been on my mind non-stop since the first time I saw them,” I tell her honestly. I’d jacked off more in the past three weeks than I had in the last thirty-two years thinking about the little barbells running through her rosy nipples.
She pinches and tugs at them, tiny little gasps escaping her full lips, making it impossible not to press the heel of my hand against my hard cock.
“My turn. Strip, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I say, knowing what she’d dare me to do if I chose it.
I expected her to huff, but it seems she wanted me to pick that just as badly as she wants to dare me to turn my camera on. “What’s your name?”
“Nah,” I reply, reaching over my shoulder to tug my shirt over my head.
She must be able to hear the fabric rustling through the camera because she whines. “That’s not fair. Your camera’s not on and I can’t see you stripping!”
“Life’s not fair, princess. No one’s ever told you that?”
She scoffs. “Yeah, I’m aware.” Her voice sounds so jaded, I immediately feel like shit. I open my mouth to apologize, but she changes the subject before I can. “Your turn, cheater.”
“I’m not sure how I’m cheating when I’m just playing by the rules you set down, but alright. Strip, truth or dare?”
“Truth,” she says in a tone that implies she’s trying to get me back.
“Where are you from? Just the state is fine,” I amend before she can argue.
“Why? Gonna come find me, Rancher?”
I feel stupid for not realizing she’d jump to that conclusion. Even though she’d made her voice sound teasing, I’m sure that’s a very real concern of hers in this line of work.
“Nah, you just remind me of someone, is all,” I tell her. It barely makes sense, but I’ve got this gut feeling that won’t be ignored. Red has a bellybutton piercing, a bratty attitude, and red hair, but even a combination of the three can’t be all that rare. I must still be projecting.
She hums again. She does that a lot when she wants to buy time or seem detached, I think. I wonder how much of this woman I’m stupidly drawn to is an act. “I’ll give you that I’m near the mountains, but that’s all you’re going to get from me.”
“There’s a lot of mountains in the world.”
“There are, aren’t there?”
I grin at the impasse, not that she can see it. I’ll leave it alone for now. Besides, I know exactly which mountains she means, because even though at least fifteen states bordered one mountain or another, there was really only one range people referred to as ‘the mountains’.
But even if she was near the Rockies, like I’m guessing she is, that could be one of six states, including mine. That didn’t mean anything.
“I think that means you’ve gotta strip for me, baby. I asked for the state, not sass.”