American Stream Girl

Author's Note: If you like my stories, please consider volunteering to edit. I will be having surgery on my hands again soon. This is my submission for the Nude Day contest so please vote.

*

"So it just switches on at midnight, and then it just starts? They see you do everything?" Nicole asked.

Then her voice dropped.

"Everything..."

"That's the deal," I said. "One year, but with what they are paying... No more slow nights or stripping, it's enough money that we'll be set. Of course I think I'll still keep going, but..."

"But Rachel..."

She cupped her voice into a whisper, leaning closer in bed.

"Like they see you going-"

"I'm just not gonna think about that," I said, putting up the mental block. "So I make some weirdo's day, oh God every day.... Fuck! You're right this is intense but when am I going to get an opportunity like this?"

"I can't even pee if you're watching. Oh God, just think about the entire world seeing every time. I would never be able to go, for like the entire year. You see me squirming in my seat like this, clenching my legs as I tried to talk to you. Maybe I would just pee my pants all the time, like what if that was the only way I could do it for an entire year?"

"Now you're making me nervous..."

"It won't be so bad, we've already made what, like a few dozen different streams, everyone seen us have sex anyways so what does it matter?"

But it sort of did.

Especially to her, no matter how she tried to gloss over our arguments.

Already people were talking about how the next-generation would never forget a moment of their lives. VisiTech lenses recorded and broadcasted everything instantaneously, sharing information seamlessly onto the Evernet.

And sure there were holdouts, but pretty much everyone had adopted the lenses, trusting blindly the privacy settings set to their satisfaction.

Because really, no one cared.

I would be the first adult model to stream her entire life, every interaction, every intelligible thought, with of course the implication that I would try and add as much erotic flavor to each moment as possible, to create a brand for the performers who would come after me.

We were both shocked when they chose just a casual stream girl like me. I was cute, sure but not superhot or anything, I guess it was the girl next door look, the dirty blonde hair, the perky yet petite frame, and the bubbly playful personality.

It's not like those things weren't real, just they weren't all totally me. I was more and less than I pretended on camera, and I certainly couldn't fake that persona all of the time.

So despite how confident I made myself seem in the application to be the first the American Stream Girl, marketed up like an interactive sex doll, the anticipation began to eat at me, slowly adding steroids to every insecurity.

I could be a bitch.

And I wondered deep down if anyone would really love me if they watched everything I did and heard everything I thought. If eroding the filter between me and my friends and family would either forever damage all of my relationships or change me into a person with desires constantly calculated to please the crowd.

Yeah I was fucking nervous.

"So like all of your thoughts come straight out for anyone to hear?"

"I guess they have that setting turned on," I said. "But the software is the same. I've still got to really have a conscious thought, but still... You know many times I've thought about fucking when I shouldn't."

Nicole giggled.

"Yeah, it's like our job or something."

"There's more to it than that," I said. "There's so much competition now with those vibrating vaginas and the newest, most lifelike robot dolls.

"Oh I know, those things are eerie! Remember that one of me? You know I reached my finger inside it feels even better than my pussy!"

"You'd lose that bet," I said, reaching for her on the bed. "But you know what I mean, you really have to put your personality into it. And it can't be just you know fake, that fawning sultry secretary oh please let me fetch that for you sir stuff. You gotta actually want sex now, and you gotta want weird, and like all the time. And yeah I do, but sometimes I take a break, sometimes I just want to cuddle up and watch an old Disney movie."

But Nicole wasn't listening.

"Oh, have you thought about like what's the most embarrassing thing you do? Okay sometimes I pick my nose, but I pretend that I'm just scratching it, kinda like this. I would die if anyone other than you knew that! What's your thing? What are you worried about the most?

"I don't really have anything, other than the obvious. I still don't know how I'm going to manage to pee."

"What if they find something you never noticed before, like figure out some nervous tic that you have. It might be worse than your O face."

And I hit her with a pillow.

"So like I can't tell you any secrets? Nothing, all of it goes out to the world, even when you sing to me with the elephant voice?"

"Oh my God, can I go a year without doing the elephant voice?"

I picked up one of several dozen different stuffed animals littered around my room, this one and oversized elephant named Babbar, dropping my voice to an unnatural low with a weird accent.

"Nicole this is so trunked up! How could you let your girlfriend put you in such a position? She's one bad hombre"

She rolled her eyes, but let out a beautiful smile, falling back against the pillows.

"I don't know Babbar, she told me she would buy me something nice, I'm thinking about diamond studded riding crop."

"Love me! You know you love me! Love Babbar..."

Still I moved the elephant along, not able to do anything close to a ventriloquist act. Actually I sort of did the opposite, making expressions I thought would fit with the words.

"Oh my God you're right there's no way I can possibly make it a year, no one can else could possibly stand this voice."

"You found someone who could stand your elephant voice?"

"Oh shut up, I can't believe I have to stop"

"Maybe this won't be such a bad year after all."

"Come here and kiss me, you're going to have to make up for that,"

"I guess I have to, it's my last chance to have you all to myself."

"Does it turn you on?"

"Do we have to keep asking the same questions over and over again? Of course it turns me on Rachel, everyone is already talking about you, my girlfriend, the American Stream Girl, and here I am with her all to myself for one last night."

She paused.

"Fucking her"

"Not yet you're not."

"So come here."

I kissed her neck, finding that place below the earlobe that only I knew, wondering if this was the last time this and a thousand little things stayed our little secret. Would everything about us would just spill out into the world, never belonging to just us again.

Would that leave us empty?

Missing something...

Then our lips met, my hands traveling up her tank top to wear her breasts were barely contained, bulging out in the U-shaped cut, standing out in sharp contrast to my slender, petite frame. I squeezed, feeling her bra through the shirt, wishing she saw those amazing tits through my eyes, even though of course literally she had.

There was no POV angle, no inner commentary, no insight or thought that could be hidden from her during her moments stream to stream sex. Not just the world, but we knew each other more intimately than our grandparents could have imagined, literally beaming our brains into each other, hearing in a silent whisper the sounds of each other's most desperate desirest.

Combined thoughts and images guiding our hands, our tongues, and each caress towards perfect contentment. I heard her thoughts almost as quickly as she did, could see myself as her irises took in my blonde hair as it disappeared for a second beneath my pink nightgown, my breasts and hers competing for attention in each eye.

But most important were our thoughts, communicated while we sucked, licked and caressed.

I wish I had tits like yours.

Oh I can't wait to touch them.

Lean forward, right there, fuck yes.

Oh I would marry you just for the sex. Lower down. Don't tease me, never mind tease me, oh wow, suck them, harder, bite them, too hard, no harder, oh fuck, please!

God your nipples are so big I can barely fit them in my mouth, does it feel as good everywhere? Just the tips, that's the best part, when you do that...

The thoughts poured over each other, perhaps to an outsider two internal monologues would be confusing, but it was really no different than speaking, only that we were communicating so quickly that she knew the moment I thought it to take off her bra.

She could see as well as hear my reaction to her breasts, sloping down and falling heavily against her chest, weighty and enough to stretch my entire hand around and still not squeeze every ounce of flesh.

Oh God, I want this, I wanted just to be us and I can't believe you agreed to this so quickly without really asking me and oh my God keep your finger right there and...

"You still think it was too quick?" I asked out loud.

"We've had this conversation," Nicole said. "It's too late for it now, it's done and besides I love you."

"I love you too, but... I mean this could be the last chance to talk about without..."

The thought came through the stream, filtered from her mouth, but strong enough to pound against the tiny drums in my ears.

Oh you mean our last chance to talk about it without a million strangers seeing us fight in our bedroom? Because it can't just be fucking Rachel! It's always just about fucking with you!

"I'm sorry," she said first. "I'm trying, it's just..."

I held her hand, brushing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes and letting my thumb rest on that space below her earlobe.

I wondered, not for the first time, if I'd really made the right decision. Nicole and I weren't exclusive, so few people were, but we hadn't even been together a year. And here I was making this decision that really might ruin everything.

But at least she knew these thoughts too...

That I realized I might be asking too much, not just for the money either...

Because I'd been so turned on by the constant attention to my cunt.

Like I often did whenever we were fighting, I wondered how my parents ever made it. Of course they didn't, my mother had been divorced three times before finding Mr. All Right Enough. Then again, fidelity probably meant a whole fuck ton more when every STD wasn't curable by a trip to the local pharmacy.

But this wasn't the first time our thoughts led to fights, a phenomenon I knew was not unique to us as a couple. Stream affected people differently, what allowed connection across vast distances, what provided so much pleasure in bed, also eroded the ability to convincingly lie to a partner at times that seemed so crucial, making us all trapped by inconvenient truths.

And mostly we dealt with it plainly, growing and nurturing each other in mutual embarrassment, except with the worst aspects of our id popped up in terrible, unedited thoughts...

We've only been together seven months, why do you have a say in my career?

With that, the first gulf began between us. The idea of me prioritizing anything other than our love and happiness remains an anathema to Nicole. And like a steroid pumped Pandora springing out from a hidden box came more thoughts, more fights, until the two of us just decided to force our way through the impasse.

I'm sure in the long run, so many relationships doomed from the start saved partners the heartache by airing out all that unpleasantness early enough. Some closed off completely, but that became suspicious to most, the majority opened up in ways that really transcended the meaning of soulmate, knowing each other in a way I still could barely imagine.

The weird sex I was totally fine, the coupling...

But that other people had adjusted fine didn't really help as the stream picked at the pieces of the same argument.

"Do you want to talk again Nicole? I mean really talk, or we can think mean things at each other. Whatever you need."

"Switch off the stream Rachel. I don't want to fight so let's just be us. "

There was something sad and final about it, though neither of us ever spoke about it, there had been this tear between the fabric of us that stretched more and more each day.

And I don't have to wonder who was the first to think that it might be over. I know when and why, and can hear it, over and over again whenever I really want to hate myself.

Unlike so much else, this moment only exists in my mind, the feel of her breasts, hefted up by each of my palms so I could suck on her nipples. Rachel had the largest natural breasts of any girlfriend ever had, they were exquisite, perfect as she leaned back and pulled me close. She was so feminine, even with her hair short and styled over one eye, tall and strong enough to throw me around the room, a match for any man who might think about dominating me.

This wasn't one of our BDSM scenes, she didn't strap me up to stand on my tiptoes wielding a flogger or paddle. There were no commands, no instructions, no orders against cumming until I had asked permission at exactly the right moments. There were no outfits, no extras, no third, or fourth or fifth, no cock or cunt to share together.

But she did lead.

Automatically we fell into not quite a routine, not a rut, but that familiar pattern that could occur so organically on those nights when neither of us needed anything other than connection and release. It was not unlike a form of self-love, a sweet sex that became like masturbation, because there was something in Nicole that sought me the same as herself, knowing me and what I liked, what I wanted, even before I could decide.

She knew to pin me by my upper arms, her teeth against my neck, keeping me in position as I tried to thrash away from her.

Just as I knew to kiss the innermost part of her thigh, to stop and purse my lips around the space between her waist and legs on each side before moving up towards that heart-shaped mound of pubis.

Her hands intertwined with my blonde hair, guiding me not because I did not know her body, because she knew I wanted to be directed, to have my surging sexuality directed towards a particular outcome. I needed to have my vibrantly limitless libido channeled into something more charming than what I thought of my own sick and twisted fantasies.

I loved Nicole, but we both knew that I needed to cum so much more than she did.

And that she needed me sweetened.

Not that I wasn't then, not that I couldn't prove capable of enough moments strung together to run some hustle on someone's hormones or heart. But these were temporary, and trying for me organically, especially with my sex drive. So often I did those romantic things only out of obligation, caring like a chore.

And I knew then within 24 hours I would be revealed as the fake, the fraud, the thoughtless and spiteful thing that lurked deep inside of me unveiled for the entire world to behold in horror.

Only I didn't care what I showed the rest of them,

Just that Nicole would see.

I tried to block it, and now I wish I had managed to wrench those thoughts from my mind, if only to memorize every taste of her cunt, every twitch as my tongue found those familiar circles around the top. I remember sometimes she tickled my nose with her tiny tufted of pubic hair, and wondered if that happened this time, or if it was just the amalgamation of a dozen other instances, the individual instances of connection slipping through my thoughts like droplets of water through cupped hands, leaving me with just the barest taste of her.

Lost in my own thoughts, I found that precise rhythm with a sort of robotic instinct, pulling back from the brink of despair as her thighs clenched around mine. I kept going, even though she wanted me to stop, not wanting to pull away for a second, trying to thrust myself back into her moment the second she escaped.

She almost picked me up, helping to adjust me so that I might wiggle the last couple of inches to place my own bare pussy in her face, sitting on her for a second so that Nicole could press my tender button with the same expertise, knowing to be a little rougher.

The pressure made me sit straight up, bolting and tweaking my own nipples before I decided to have her again. My hands pried apart her muscular thighs, her flat stomach scratched up almost like doing a sit up. I rocked back and forth between her mouth and cunt, drinking deeply from the small second drippings of excitement, gushing into my girlfriend.

We rocked like that, her easily able to support my petite body, the two of us contorting and climaxing in simultaneous succession. Both tongues continued flailing upwards and downwards, heads keeping her legs apart to writhe together, shaking and dripping in one shutter into cum soaked sheets.

I fell to one side, and re-energized, she switched to the foot of the bed. Her fingers instantly entered me, twisting and turning as my hands pulled her face close, kissing and then shying away from the curling inside of me. Her touch stimulated some hidden and embedded nerve ending, causing my legs to shoot out and kick up until I felt as though Nicole controlled me through my cunt, manipulating me like her little sex doll.

Then, every emotion spent, I lay against her breasts, cuddled against her, my mind unable to shut off, consumed with shame at having so senselessly sacrificed these precious and sacred little moments.

Eventually, I drifted between asleep and a senseless stupor, relaxed only by the sound of her heartbeat heard through my head on her bosom.

*****

Is she awake yet?

Look at her girlfriend's breast, those are the perfect pillows. I wish I could just motorboat them all night long.

Stick me between the two of them, I'm sure I'll find a way to wake them up

I would throw myself on the first dick if I had her body.

I wonder what they were up to last night. Too bad Nicole isn't also doing it.

Maybe she will, maybe they will do another gang bang. I want to be in her ass, it's so tight. Rachel's never really sure that she likes it until she cums.

Wake up, wake up!

Look is it kind of creepy all of us watching her sleep? I feel like it's creepy.

Whatever, it's like a national event, VisiTech has been talking about it for years, it's like watching history.

Yeah history with boobies.

It's all just a government conspiracy, get us hooked on the streams, until we are so busy ejaculating we don't notice they are watching everything.

Who's going to watch her today?

I'll be there at the gym. Once she is up and going. I'll stream every second of it. We take the same train.

I want to watch Rachel do yoga, completely naked, downward facing doggy style.

I don't know, I like the pants. The way you can see the crack...

Okay, yoga half naked half clothed.

When will she be able to hear us?

The alarm is set for 5 AM so I imagine any second now shall be able to scroll through all the streams, or at least the steamy ones.

My first thoughts were of her.

How does Nicole sleep sprawled out like that? Can I move her? I don't want to wake her, she never sleeps that well, but it's gotta be uncomfortable. Here, Let me-

Only I never managed to move her from the way she had her wrist pinned against her left breast, the eruption of erotic thoughts battering at my brain all at once.

Look at her tits.

Wake her up, eat her out.

I want to see her pussy, can you pull back that blanket, maybe roll her over so we can see some nipples.

Sixty-nine!

I think her nipples are too big for me.

They are not for you! Oh fuck, Jesus Christ this is weird. I really need to adjust the settings on this if I'm going to stay sane, okay sort by distance, priority filter adult content. Let's start with three messages at a time. Look, I love everybody watching, but I'm not able to respond to everything and still live my life, which is why I hope you're watching.