The first part of this story is true. I was bored and wondered about the business model of companies that use webcam girls. There was a beautiful girl whose dog had died. That was the genesis of this story. Beyond those basic facts I have invented any other details, not implying those are the actual facts.
I appreciate those who read and rate my stories!
As always, there is no sexual activity in this story except between people over the age of 18.
Dedicated to the woman I love!
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I was bored one day and got curious about webcam girls. I had no desire to spend money on such nonsense, but I was interested in understanding the business model.
I founded a company in my 20s that grew beyond everyone's expectations. At the age of 45, I sold. There was a reason for the sale, but it had nothing to do with the business. You see, two years ago, after our only child got married and moved across the country, my wife decided there were "greener pastures."
I later found out that was code for a young stud she met at the coffee shop.
I filed for divorce and since we were living in a community property state, half of the business was hers.
Given the current value of the business I had only two choices: (1) borrow half the value of the business, or (2) sell the company.
The first option would have left the business with too much debt.
I chose the second.
The good news was after paying taxes I had almost $15 million dollars and would not need to work again. I spent most of my professional career in the Seattle area. I was tired of the cold winters and rain.
I decided to move to Panama. I had a few friends who had done so, and there is a decent sized ex-pat community here. Many are far in the west, at higher elevations in the state of Chiriqui, near Boquete. There are smaller groups scattered all over. From beaches to mountains.
Ultimately, I decided on Panama City. I had spent time in other places and preferred the cultural and culinary choices of the big city.
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My interest in the cam girls was mostly intellectual. I know, I can hear readers now; "You only read Playboy for the articles, right?"
I said, "mostly" intellectual. Sure, I was interested in the girls who in open chat bared a breast, or in rare cases, even more. As the comedian Ron White once said, "If you've seen one nude woman, you pretty much want to see them all nude."
I figured out a few things about the business model, but one girl caught my attention. She seemed different, less professional, perhaps she was simply less experienced. There was no question she flaunted her body less than many other girls. She did not have many photos posted, and no videos, but she was very cute, with an amazing smile. I once saw her laughing. A man could fall in love with that!
Her stage name was from a Jane Austen novel. To protect her identity, I will call her Clara. Her bio said she was from Colombia. I had marked Clara as a favorite and decided the next day I would chat with her, for free.
Now, each girl wanted guys to do a private session, among other things. I didn't want to spend money, so that was out. At least it was at first.
The next three days, Clara was not there. Offline.
On the fourth day I checked. She was there, but she was crying. There was a lot of chat in her chat box, so I read what had not yet disappeared as it scrolled. Her dog, or perhaps puppy, had died. I didn't find out how.
She was fighting back tears. I wondered why she was even there if she was that emotionally distraught. Then I learned one of the missing pieces in my analysis:
"I missed three days, so they stripped me of my rank. If I miss more, I risk being fired."
Nothing more uplifting than a business that cares!
I wanted to chat with her, but there was a guy hogging the chat and dropping 100-token gifts. Nice of him, but it interfered with what I hoped to do.
A couple of hours later I logged back on. Clara was there, looking more composed, but her usual smile wasn't there. I backed out and decided to purchase some tokens. I needed a private chat. Not enough tokens for a long chat, but perhaps enough.
I went back to her chat box. My online name was Bus_Con45.
Hi Clara!
Hi Bus_Con!
R u feeling better?
A little, thanks.
Private chat?
Sure, click on it
"Hi, Clara, you don't need to undress or show anything. I just want to talk for a couple of minutes."
"Ok."
"Are you a student?"
"Yes, at the university."
"Does your work prevent taking a lot of classes?"
"Yes, unfortunately."
"Do you like the webcam work?"
There was silence for a moment, then a tear.
"No."
"I want to help, so you never have to do this again and can finish school. Is there a way we could talk on the phone? Please trust me."
She looked at me for a moment. Then she reached for something under the camera. I had a great view of the top of her head!
"This might cause trouble. Write it quickly."
She held up a small piece of paper and I quickly wrote the number.
"In the morning."
"Thanks Clara. Until then, have a good day. Bye for now."
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The next morning, I called her. It was a San Diego area code.
"Hello."
"Hi Clara, we talked yesterday, my name is Bill."
"My name is Melissa. Clara is my stage name."
"Ok, Melissa. I notice you have a San Diego number, but you're obviously a Latina and speak English like someone in California. Did you live in the U.S.?"
"I was born in Escondido. My Dad was from there, a third generation Latino in the U.S. My mother is from Colombia. My parents divorced when I was 16 and my mother and I moved back to Colombia. I'm a San Diego girl at heart."
"How is your mother?"
"She is sick."
"Do you live with her?"
"I have my own apartment, with a girlfriend."
I kept asking a lot of questions and she seemed perfectly willing to answer. I learned she had started at a top university, but then her mother got sick. Melissa heard about the cam studio and went for an interview. They had quite a sales pitch about how much money she could earn. Other jobs don't pay well in Colombia, so she saw this as a way to earn more money and stay in school.
She told me she soon discovered she could only earn decent money if she was there as much as possible and worked her way up in the rankings. That gave her visibility on co-branded sites as well. She had to cut back on classes at school. She was only taking one class presently.
"What are you studying?"
"Civil Engineering."
You could have knocked me over with a feather! That's terrible of me to say that, but the sexist stereotypes are hard to avoid in some professions.
"Are you a good student?"
"All A's so far. Why are you asking these questions? You said you might be able to help."
