The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 34 - Sex Stories

The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 34

... was pennies compared to what she made at the brothel. To Lindsay, it wasnot a livable wage, though she had minimal expenses staying with Colt and Pamela in their home. Lindsay agreed to avoid hooking but wasn't happy about it.

Then again, a lot of people nowadays weren't happy.

Kicking off his shoes in the front foyer, Colt realized the kitchen was empty. As was the living room.

"Pamela?" he called out.

She kept busy, too, but opted to work from home selling customized shirts and knickknacks on her Etsy shop, and delving back into the webcamming game. Unlike pornography and prostitution, there were no laws regulating this form of sex work. In her public video chat room on Streamate, Pamela, often wearing skimpy lingerie or a naughty costume, would interact and flirt with all her viewers. Here, payment was voluntary, and she was tipped for performing both sexual and non-sexual acts.

But if a viewer opted to go private, Pamela received a premium on a pay-per-minute scale. And unlike her public chatroom, these performances tended to be highly pornographic, as she'd appease the customer's wicked requests by often spreading herself open and playing with a variety of sex toys.

It's still better than taking endless dick at the brothel. "Pamela, sweetheart, where are you?"

"Out here!"

He followed her voice to the front porch.

Where she was lounging in the hammock.

And she looked so damn fine that he stopped for a beat and gripped the doorframe between ...

... the house and the porch.

Pamela anchored a sultry gaze on him. "Hey."

"Hey." He held the edge of the doorframe harder.

She shifted and stretched her legs out to get a more direct view of him, the hammock swaying. "You okay?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Do I not look okay?"

"You don't look okay."

"What do I look like?"

"You look tired," Pamela said after studying him for several seconds. "And sleepy. Maybe you're in need of a pick-me-up?"

"Been a long day." He relaxed his grip on the doorjamb and twirled his head about. "Did eighteen trips and put close to three hundred miles on that little car."

"Make any money?"

"Two hundred and fifty-three dollars, sixty of which were tips."

"Nice."

"How about you?"

"Seven hundred and change." Pamela's focus again tracked over him from head to toe. "I had quite the generous tipper this morning on webcam."

Unlike many of their contemporaries in the LPIN industry, Colt and Pamela weren't hurting in the money department. For starters, they had quite the sizable nest egg, both in savings and investments, and could live off that for the next decade-plus if need be. And instead of sitting on their asses and taking thewoe is me approach, they adapted to these unprecedented times, and did the best they could.

Earning an income from rideshare wasn't ideal, and certainly not a job Colt ever envisioned having, but it was easy, and he did enjoy driving around the area.I just don't like some of the degenerates ...