I have mixed feelings about web cams. As for online sex itself, it helped me overcome my terminal shyness and propelled me into the real world of things sexual—but cams can lead to trouble.
I sat down at my computer with all my usual supplies: lube, paper towels, and condoms. So far, so good. I lived out in the country and used a dial up connection. This meant no phone calls to interrupt my sexual pursuits. I logged on as usual on and spotted one of my regular chat partners. She was barely twenty and very horny with curves that drove me crazy—in the photos she sent me, that is.
She lived close enough to drive many a cock pumping fantasy, but far enough away to make me doubt we would ever meet.
She messaged me seconds after I logged on. "Hey, how's it going?"
"Fine. How are you?"
"Good. Want to play a game?"
"Sure. You pick."
"Do you play backgammon?"
"Ok."
I had just barely learned to play. We'd played a few games when she sent me some pictures. My cock rose to attention and throbbed. The photos she sent were from online sites, but some were of her and her friends. I sat masturbating while looking at all the pantyhose, stockings, and panty-wearing beauties—some engaged in sex acts of all description. Her cam request popped up on the screen. "Hey, you hard?"
"Very."
"Show me? Cam?"
I saw her on cam for the first time. Her thick cleavage juddered; her arm flexed—she was busy stroking down under the table, out of sight. My cock head flared obscenely.
"Okay. It might take awhile." I fumbled around setting up my brand new camera while stroking my cock. I hit 'send cam invite'. She smiled and nodded.
She sat back and pushed her tits together. "Show me? Stand up."
I stood up while watching her reaction to my tenting underpants. She smiled and typed, "Lower your shorts. Show cock."
I did. She leaned in and licked her lips. "Very nice. I wish I was there right now. Jack it. Show me how you'd fuck me."
The session ended with me shooting a massive white gusher while staring into her pink canal. It was my hottest orgasm ever.
We went on being chat friends with mutual masturbation cam sessions, but nothing ever matched the excitement of that first time. I lost touch with her, but continued chasing the thrill of my initiation.
One day I experimented with multiple cam action. A cute Asian girl got me hooked on watching her strip tease. She informed me her boyfriend wanted to watch me jack off to her naked body. I agreed—I always refused to expose myself to men online , but what the heck, I was too horny to stop.
When it was all over, her boyfriend messaged me, "Can we talk? I'm not gay or a criminal."
"Sure." He told me about an adult game show in Japan. He tried out for it but they had a minimum cock size requirement. He asked my measurements. Thinking it was all a big joke, I told him—I qualified— and he wasn't joking.
********
It was my first time on a plane. When I got on, I said, "These must me the kiddies seats. What the f___?" The flight was long and uneventful.
I looked around the airport wondering who else had come to Japan for the game show. I had a hotel shuttle ticket sticking out of my shirt pocket—I caught a leggy young lady peering at it—she laughed and showed me hers. We learned how it would be a while before the bus would come, so we ordered drinks. Her name was Ashley.
"So, Frank, did they recruit you online too?" We were both prematurely tipsy and travel weary.
"Yeah. That's how I ended up here."
I got so hard watching her pretty lips and tongue on her drinking straw. My cock stretched out my underpants' leg elastic, broke free, brushed my inner thigh. It throbbed while she talked.
"Kinda weird though. I heard all us show members are white. Geez, reverse-racist much?"
"Now Ashley. Not white. It's Caucasian."
"Oh men, always on about their cocks!" she laughed. I didn't laugh—her generous, jiggling blouseful of titty flesh commanded my attention. "Hey Frank! Frank! My face is up here."
"Oh. Sorry. What was I thinking?"
She laughed some more—and what a laugh—it went from low to high and back again, very unique indeed. She crossed her legs; I did the same; I winced, having leg-clamped my erection. Tilting her head, searching my face, she asked, "Frank?" Her big green eyes widened over my shoulder. All us show people were waved towards the exit line.
The hotel shuttle pulled up to the curb. I was disappointed when Ashley was ushered to the back of the bus. I sat up front with the other men, exchanging sheepish glances, cracking dry jokes.
The segregation didn't end there either—it was separate and chaperoned hotel floors for each gender. I slept in a room with five other men that night. I tucked my sheets in extra tight, just to be on the safe side.
The show managers rounded us up early in the morning. They herded us down to a meeting room where we watched a training film with questions and answers to follow. I sat beside my roommate Rick, or so said his nametag. He spoke good English, as did most present. They called us to attention.