Lesbian Roommate Just Like Mandy

I

Stacey threw open the door and shouted.

"Motherfucker."

Jill sat up suddenly, pausing her movie, and looked up.

"What's wrong?"

"I just got fired. Tony said the staff was too big, and since I was the last one on, I'd be the first one off. Something about experience and customer complaints."

"Customer complaints?"

"You spill one Merlot, one goddamn Merlot, and you'll hear about it for the rest of your life."

Stacey continued percolating to a boil, exploded, then calmed down for another cycle of percolation, boil, explosion.

Jill shrugged.

She'd gotten used to that from her new roommate.

It wasn't usually a problem.

They got along well. Sometimes went clubbing together. Sometimes they stayed in, chilled, watched movies, gossiped while painting their nails.

They also spent long times without really seeing one another, Stacey worked odd hours. Mostly at night, till late in the night.

Used to work.

Jill sighed, recognizing the threat to rent.

Cheer up, girl. You could have worse roommates.

II

Stacey didn't know what to think when Jill started burning incense throughout their apartment. Part of her wanted to protest, to demand an end to it, but the odor really didn't stink that bad. It actually helped calm her, something about the aroma soothed her, and she needed that.

Job hunting sucked.

A week went by, then another week went by and still no bites on her applications. She networked with her college friends, but nobody seemed to be able to give her a good lead.

So she spent the time hanging out, going to class, hoping for something to break through.

Of course, she hit up her folks, and they finally broke down.

"Money doesn't grow on trees, dear," her mother chastised. "And we can't afford to pay for all your rent and tuition. You said you'd help out with a part-time job at least."

"I know, Mom. But I can't find anything."

That evening Jill sat propped against a big pillow on their leather couch, staring at her laptop. A stick of incense burned in the long brass holder, half-consumed. A long row of ash lined the middle of the holder's plate, and a dense but pleasant fume filled the room.

Stacey, coming home early from a round of drinks at the local pub, braced herself for recriminations from her roommate, but, smelling the incense, she relaxed, and Jill looked up and smiled at her.

"You remember Mandy?" she asked.

Amanda Gibson. Of course Stacey remembered her. A bit of a snob, really.

"Yeah, why?"

Jill patted the cushion next to her.

"Come. Sit by me. I want to show you something. Take a look at this."

Stacey sat down next to Jill and looked at the screen of the laptop. Her mouth opened in a wordless exclamation, then she squeaked.

"Oh my god. Is that? Oh my god, is she really? She's having sex with a cucumber. Oh my god, she's really having sex with a cucumber. How'd you find this?"

Jill shrugged.

"A friend of mine emailed me the link. I guess he's the kind of guy that pays to watch webcam girls."

Stacey stared at the screen. Mandy lay on a bed, bedcovers scattered with frilly fluffy pillows tossed behind her, with her legs spread wide. She wore what remained of pink lingerie, her bra hung unclasped, her large breasts flopped to the side as she thrust her pussy, glistening with lubricant and cunt juices, around a thick cucumber, and she smiled and groaned into her camera, her face garishly made up in glittery eyeshadow, pink mascara, bright pink lipstick, her naturally dirty blond hair dyed to a bright platinum and styled in a swirling, wavy mass around her face.

"Thank you. Thank you Hotcock69. Oh my god, you make me so wet."

"But we're just watching," Stacey stammered. She'd seen webcam girls perform, of course, she'd visited a few websites years ago as a teen, but it didn't do anything for her except gross her out.

"I mean, we're not paying. Why would anyone pay?"

Jill shrugged again.

"You pay to tip, and when you tip, she calls out your name. I guess guys like that. I guess it makes them feel wanted."

Stacey frowned. That seemed so sad.

"I can't believe she's doing this. She's showing everything. I'd never be able to live that down."

Jill turned the laptop so that Stacey could see it better.

"It's a way to make money, I guess. Besides, I bet nobody really knows. It's not like everybody goes to these chatrooms. I bet none of her friends have any idea she's doing this."

"But your friend out about it. The one who emailed you the link."

"A fluke. He just hinted he knew something about her, and I wouldn't let go of it until he said he'd email me. I don't think he's going to tell anybody else, and I'm definitely not going to say anything. I like Mandy."

"I like her too," Stacey replied. It wasn't exactly true, but she didn't know what else to say.

Jill lifted her computer and set it on Stacey's lap.

The aroma of the incense filled the room, and Stacey breathed in the fragrance, feeling so relaxed and peaceful.

"You should keep watching her show, watch how she performs. Check out some other rooms, the other girls. It's not bad money, you know."

And a little, oh my god. Aroused.

She tried out dozens of cam models, reading the tipper comments, listening to the performers talk, watching as the impaled themselves on well-lubricated rubber dicks, fingering themselves with one hand or both hands, holding arm below an upraised legs to finger herself from below while the other hand rubbed her clit.

Some girls rode sex machines, dangerous looking tools that rammed a flexible cock into them as they knelt on hands and knees or fucked them -- there really wasn't any other word for it -- as they lay on their backs spreading their thighs for the fucking machine.

Most of the girls had some kind of pink vibrator embedded deep in their vaginas or buttholes, and many girls jammed vibrators against their wet clits, large black objects resembling microphones.

All this was very new to Stacey.

But she was aroused. Somehow she felt herself getting hot.

She'd been aroused ever since sitting down by Jill, and watching the cam models perform caused her to get warm, almost hot. Her eyes dilated, and she fixated on performers spreading their legs and playing with their tits.

At that moment, Jill came into the living room, saw Stacey still sitting there looking at the chatrooms, and she winked.

"If you need to play with yourself, Stacey, you can go ahead and do it on the sofa. I won't mind. I'm leaving anyway."

Stacey jumped up, quickly putting the laptop down beside her.

"Oh my god, no, Jill. That's okay, I'm not going to. I mean, I wasn't going to. That doesn't."

Jill let Stacey's muttering protests dwindle to wordless noises before dissipating altogether.

"It's no big deal, really. But do you think you could do it?"

Stacey shook her head.

"No way can I do that."

Jill sat down again beside Stacey and turned towards her. Their knees touched, and Jill Stacey's face in her hands.

"Stacey, look at me. Listen to me. You can do this. You're brave enough and you're strong enough. If Mandy can do it, you can do it. It's just a matter of confidence. I want you to be confident. For any job you do, you need to be confident."

Stacey nodded, but her eyes expressed doubt, disbelief.

"Stacey, repeat after me."

"I'm attractive."

Stacey giggled, but Jill squeezed her cheeks.

"Say it."

"I'm attractive."

"Now say, 'I'm pretty.'"

It felt weird, strange, but Stacey's face went limp in Jill's hands.

"I'm pretty.

"I'm sexy."

Stacey remained quiet, doubtful.

"Say it," Jill insisted.

"I'm sexy."

"I can do this."

"I can do this."

Jill smiled.

"Good, Stacey. Now say, 'I want to do this.'"

Stacey shook her head.

"But I don't. I don't want to do it."

Jill held Stacey's head firm.

"Saying you want to do it doesn't mean you have to do it. But it's a way of breaking through, Stacey. A way of breaking through those fears of yours. Your inhibition. Mandy broke through her inhibition, and you saw how happy she is. Even if you don't end up performing in a chatroom, you can still say you want to do it. To give yourself options. To empower yourself. Say it. Say 'I want to do this. I want to be a camgirl.'"

"I want to do this."

Jill squinted at Stacey.

"And the last part?"

"I want to be a camgirl."

"Say it again."

"I want to do this. I want to be a camgirl."

"Say it again. Louder. Say it like you mean it."

Stacey took a deep breath.

"I want to do this. I want to be a camgirl. I really want to be a camgirl."

Jill release Stacey's head.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Stacey didn't answer, and Jill got up to leave.

No. It wasn't so bad.

But she still didn't want to do it.

Did she?

"Still," Jill said, holding the door open before stepping out to leave. "It might be a good idea to watch some more. And maybe play with yourself to see what it's like. You know. For the customers. The clients. The tippers."

Jill winked and the incense burned. Then the door closed, and Jill was gone, but the aroma hung in the air, and Stacey breathed in the incense.

III

After Jill left, Stacey went to her room to think. She didn't really feel like going out, so she just kicked off her shoes, plopped on her bed, and surfed her phone. She couldn't shake those images of Mandy and the other performers. Shows. That's what Jill called them. Performers with their own shows.

It sounded kind of impressive when you put it that way.

Professional, creative, and take-charge.

On a sudden whim, she used her phone to Google the name of Mandy's chatroom site, Camwhore SlutChat, which was kind of cringy, even creepy, and clicked the link. The chat windows were so small, Stacey shifted on her bed to grab her own laptop nearby. She plugged in into its charger, and opened the lid, Googling Camwhore SlutChat and clicking the link.

Most of the same girls were there, but some of the windows showed new girls, new performers, and Stacey clicked on those, opening the windows to read comments and to see the tips rolling in.

It didn't make any sense to her.

It didn't seem the to be sexy in the remotest sense of the word.

It all seemed so. So silly to her, and she couldn't imagine anyone getting off to it.

But she kept looking, more than anything out of curiosity, but that strange arousal lingered like the smell of the incense burning in the living room, and she thought about what she would do, how she would act in some of the scenarios these women put themselves in.

I mean, if I do this sort of thing. Which I won't. Of course I won't.

But that anybody got excited, you know, wanked off to this sort of thing. That men jacked themselves off to these models.

She found it hard to believe.

And a little gross.

How could anyone feel so excited?

All of a sudden she heard Jill's voice in the ear of her mind, teasing her.

"If you need to play with yourself, Stacey, you can go ahead and do it."

Could she? Could she play with herself while watching a webcam performer?

Should she?

A weird feeling seized her, a tingling naughty thrill, and she unsnapped her fly. Then she raised her hips to push her jeans past her knees and ankles, leaving her only in her panties and blouse. She hesitated a moment, then she pushed down her panties, her heart beating rapidly.

She arranged the laptop, turned her face to see the chatrooms, and moved her hand slowly down her abdomen, so soft, smooth, and yielding, over her bellybutton, reaching her mons covered in a soft fringe of pubic hair.

Mandy's room was still open.

Stacey admired Mandy's stamina, her endurance.

It couldn't be easy to spend hours in front of a webcam, sticking object after object into her vagina to smile at faceless tippers who dropped money into your feed. A true boss babe, all that hard work. Did it pay off? Would it pay off? When she did it, if she did it, would Stacey make any money at it?

She kind of looked hot, Mandy did. Stacey had to admit that. The platinum swirl of her hair had mashed to one side, smashing and misshaping the style set by her hairspray. Her pink mascara ran from the corners of her eyes, and her pink lipstick formed a pink smear across her drooling mouth.

Her pink nightie, meant to be tied at her throat, was now wide open, her wide fat boobs bounced as she writhed on her bed, plunging a thick blue dildo into her gaping hole, wet and shiny with her fluids. Her long pink nails grazed the top of her slit as she rubbed her clitoris to the thrusting of her blue cock.

"Yes, yes, yes," she kept moaning. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!"

She breathed in the fragrance coming from the burning incense.

She looks hot, Stacey thought. A hot mess.

She imagined herself in the same position, and her fingers slid over her mons, probing her slit, wet now, her vulva gaping and opening readily to her fingers.

So hot.

Stacey stared at the dildo plunging in and out of the web model's pussy, wondering if that was what the tippers liked, what the boys liked.

The fragrance, the aroma, the sweet scent of the incense grew stronger and sweeter.

And girls.

That thought came unexpectedly.

I'm sure some girls like to look at webcam models. I'm sure some girls will be looking at me when I start performing.

Stacey momentarily stopped caressing herself.

She saw Mandy pull out her dildo, stick her fingers, long pink nails and all, into her wet hole, and bring them out to suck on.

Stacey brought her own fingers to her mouth. Sticky fluid clung to her fingers as she spread them in front of her. A lump of disgust formed in her throat, a disgust quickly giving way to a strange fascination to lick the sheen from her fingers. She plunged them into her mouth, sucking off the fluids slowly and methodically. Sensually, just like Mandy.

Girls are watching her just like I'm watching her.

Just like they'll watch me when I'm a camwhore.

Getting more and more aroused, giving in to the sexual heat rising from her center and spreading though her body, she turned over on her side, bent one knee out and up to rub her pussy as she gazed at the laptop, at Mandy's perfect cunt, dripping and suctioning the dildo sliding in and out of her. Stacey imagined herself on camera, fucking herself as the tips rolled in.

She'd need toys.

Lots of toys.

Suddenly her orgasm seized her, coming unexpectedly, coming from unawares, and she howled, staring straight into the camwhore's shiny pink cunt.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god.

She came three more times that night, before closing her laptop to take a shower and grab a bite to eat.

IV

"So?" Jill asked, coming home later that night. "What do you think? Is it something you'd like to try."

"I don't know," Stacey replied, taking a swig from a juice bottle in the fridge, a pink bath towel wrapped around her body, another swirled in a turban on her head,. "I need to think about it. I need. I need to keep looking, I think."

Which left the matter open.

Keep looking for a job?

Or keep looking at the cam whores?

"That's kind of gross, you know."

Jill pointed at the bottle she capped and put back on its refrigerator shelf.

"You weren't supposed to catch me," Stacey shrugged.

V

It turned out to be a little of both.

Stacey spent the first two days of that week nominally looking for work. She looked at Indeed, Craigslist, other sites. She asked around half-heartedly, not really wanting to hear a positive answer. She knew she'd have to find something, but still. She spent a lot of time that week in her room, staring at window after window of cam models performing for their shows.

Jill would walk in, light the incense, and walk out.

"You know," she reminded her the first night, "if you get excited looking at all those whores, you can always rub one out. You know, finger yourself. You might as well take off your pants. I mean, you should start doing that before you start looking at them."

"As if," Stacey retorted.

But she did. Moments later she did.

She looked over her shoulder, saw that Jill had left her bedroom door open, and shrugged to herself.

Whatever.

She slipped off her jeans, then slipped off her panties. Her bare cheeks felt sexy on the seat of her chair, and she clicked on the small window of a red-head spreading her legs into the camera, pistoning her plump pussy with a plastic phallus, fat and black.

Several minutes later, Jill dropped by again, standing in the doorway and winking behind Stacey's head.

"Mandy's performing tomorrow, Stace. I know she's your favorite."

The aroma of the incense drifted over Stacey's nose, smell so rich, sweet, and relaxing.

"Hm?" she said, dazed, rubbing herself slowly with both feet propped on her desk, the screen of the laptop between them. Favorite? I suppose she is, Stacey thought. I supposed she is my favorite. I can't wait to see her.

"You should get an account and tip her tomorrow. I'll help you think of a username. I can loan you some money for the tips."

God, could Jill be any sweeter? She thought of everything.

"Thank you."

She meant to say it louder, but her voice emerged a faint and husky whisper, dry with sexual stimulation.

Stacey turned red, stroking herself languorously, spreading her two wet lips with her middle finger, slipping her finger deep between her hot swollen labia, sliding her finger into her warm center so easily, so easily, sticking a second finger in and hooking her fingers deep, deep, deep, just behind that muscle, that spot, oh god.

"It makes you so hot thinking about becoming a webcam model, huh?"

She mashed her clit with the palm of her thumb and bit her lip.

Oh fuck.

"Just spreading your legs and fucking yourself silly, just like, what's her name?"

Jill leaned down to look at the cam model's window.

"Gingerbreadwhore. Oh that's so cute. I love it."

She looked down at Stacey sliding her fingers across her sopping cunt.

"I mean, not as much as you do, but still. It makes you so horny, gets you so turned on, so hot to imagine yourself pushing a dildo in and out, in and out as the tips come rolling in, right? God, you get turned on by being a camwhore."

Stacey groaned.

"So turned on."

Stacey's chair squeaked as the girl gyrated her hips into her fingers.

"All those tips, all those boys looking at you. All those girls. All those lesbians and bi girls sending you tips just to spread your legs wider and wider for them. God that makes you so horny.

"Right?"

Stacey tried to say something; instead she squealed. Her breath came ragged, short puffs of frantic air punctuated by bursts high-pitched squeals.

Jill couldn't tell if it was a yes or a no.

"All those lesbians get you so horny. You want to cum looking straight into her pussy. Like a good little tipper. Like a good little dyke tipper. Good little dykes cum fucking themselves with their eyes glued to a camwhore's cunt."

The chiming of tips dropping into the red-head's account tinkled from the laptop speakers. Gingerbreadwhore squeaked into the camera.

Tipper comments and tipper questions rolled up the screen.

"Oh god, I'm cumming. I'm cumming. Thank you Bigcockforhotcunts, thank you. Thank you. I'm cumming. I'm cumming so fucking hard. Thank you, Hotlezzieslut. Oh god of course I want to taste your pussy. Oh god, I'm cumming so hard."

The red-head bucked against her dildo as she fucked herself faster and faster, her cunt dripping as she spasmed on her mattress, throwing her head back and howling.

"I wonder what Mandy's show will be like tomorrow? I bet it'll be even hotter."

Eyes glued to the screen, glued to the wet pussy whose glistening hole wrapped so tightly around the thick girth of the slimy black dildo, Stacey fucked herself faster and faster, bringing her fingers fully out of her flowing pussy to rub her swollen clit faster and faster, a blazing speed of fingers swiping her button.