The Billionaire's Bargain (First Desire: Taming Savannah) (4 page)

“Savannah,” Claire said cautiously, “Are
you... Are you shooting porn in here?”

“No,” Savannah said slowly, “Well, not
exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ok. Let me try and explain,” Savannah
started. “You are, of course, familiar that many things happen on
the internet besides term paper research and Neopets, right?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an infant,
Savannah.”

“Sorry. As you probably know, many of the
things happening on the internet are of a sexual nature. Many, many
of the things. I, Savannah, your best friend on the planet who it
would be super rude of you to judge, is engaged in some of those
sexy things.” Savannah waited for Claire to interrupt, but she held
her tongue and waited for Savannah to go on. “So, here’s the deal.
I don’t make porn videos. I don’t meet up with guys for sex. I’ve
never once performed a sexual act on somebody for money.
But...”

“But?” Claire prodded.

“I do communicate with people. Mostly men.
There are these websites that you can sign up for where you
basically live chat with guys from around the world from your own
room. You make an account, and an alias, and all that, and then you
put yourself out there. Guys can go all over the website and check
out different pictures until they find a girl that they want to
live chat with. Sometimes you’ll get a lot of guys interested in
talking to you all at once when you’re online, and one of them will
ask to chat privately with you.”

“Ok...” Claire said cautiously, “So, what
happens when a guy wants to live chat with you?”

“Just about anything you can imagine!”
Savannah laughed. Claire was not as amused.

“So you just, like... Perform for these
pervs?”

“They’re not pervs!” Savannah scowled,
“They’re just guys with particular interests!”

“Fetishes, you mean?”

“Fetish is not a dirty word, Claire. You’d
know that if you took your virginity off the shelf and dusted it
once in a while.”

“I’m not a virgin!”

“You’ve had sex with one guy. In high school.
You’re totally still a virgin.”

Claire glared at Savannah, fuming. The gaping
void between the girls’ sexual experiences had never been an issue
in the past. Savannah had been an early bloomer, while Claire had
taken a while to become comfortable enough in her own skin to give
guys a try. Savannah felt terrible immediately for trying to make
Claire feel bad about her lack of experience where men were
concerned. Some days, Savannah was even jealous about how pure
Claire seemed compared to her. Savannah had, after all, started
having sex at the ripe age of fourteen. Maybe she should have
waited until she was older to jump into the fray, but she’d always
been a sexual creature. What was a girl to do?

Still, it was pretty lame of Claire to be so
judgmental of Savannah like this. This girls didn’t fight often,
but when they did, it was explosive. Savannah could feel both of
their emotions rising to a boiling point, and new that this was
going to be one of those horrible times that friendships have to
survive in order to thrive.

Claire picked herself up off the bed and made
her way to the kitchen to collect her belongings. Savannah did not
try to stop her, knew that she had to make her grand exit if they
were going to have any hope of reconciling later. After she had
rustled around the kitchen getting her things together, Claire
poked her head back through the bead curtain, fixing her eyes on
Savannah.

“You know,” Claire said, “I would never look
down on you for the way that you live your life. I’ve always known
about your promiscuity, and your countless lovers, and everything.
But I love you enough to accept you the way you are. The only
reason I said anything at all is because I love you, and I’m
worried about you. But if you want to jump down my throat about it,
that’s your own problem. This one’s on you, buddy.”

And with that, she stormed out of the
apartment. Savannah sat motionless in the wake of her best friend’s
departure. Her hands were shaking from the strain of keeping her
cool in the face of Claire’s rebuffing. Savannah couldn’t
understand why Claire was being so unreasonable about her new
online endeavor. The whole thing was perfectly safe, clean, and it
made her plenty of money. So, what could possibly be the problem?
Oh, sure, it wasn’t for everyone. But Savannah was one oversexed
little girl. She benefitted from online “modeling” as much as the
guys did. It was a great way for her to blow off steam at the end
of the day, even if the day had consisted of little more than
fucking.

In fact, Savannah decided that she could use
a cool-off session right then and there. Her fight with Claire was
going to be a long, drawn-out affair—she just knew it. The girls
did not fight passively. They iced each other out, cut ties, and
retreated, only to return for one all-out verbal brawl in which all
grievances were aired and all secrets rehashed. After these wild
bitching sessions, the girls were able to go back to being friends
with a clean slate. But the time between the inception of the fight
and its conclusion always took a toll on Savannah. Luckily for her,
she had a new outlet that might prove to be just the antidote to
what ailed her.

Savannah pulled herself up off the bed and
went to her wardrobe. She surveyed her collection of wigs,
costumes, makeup and jewelry. Who was she going to be tonight? The
thing was that, unlike many online models, Savannah was not content
with just one alternate identity, one “stage name”, as it were. For
an appetite as insatiable as Savannah’s, multiple personalities
needed to come into play. Perhaps it was an unconventional way to
approach this kind of work, but on the other hand, what would be a
conventional way?

Since she had started modeling nearly six
months ago, Savannah had developed four alter egos. Each version of
herself had her own account on the video chatting site, each had
her own personality, likes, specialties, rules, and followers. This
multiplicity allowed Savannah to rake in four times the amount of
money she usually would, because each personality appealed to a
certain kind of man.

First, there was Candace—the All-American
girl. For Candace, Savannah wore a long blonde wig and lots of
lingerie that came from places like J Crew and American Eagle.
Candace was a perpetually sunny, Californian beauty who loved all
things that were pink, and mellow, and simple. This alter ego was,
ostensibly, enrolled as a journalism student at a good state school
in California, and modeled to help defray the costs of her tuition.
She was kind of a West Coast version of Savannah, and the first of
her alternate identities. Candace appealed to younger guys, more
than anyone.

Next, there was Colby. Colby was, above all
else, a total geek. Savannah would wear a short, severe bob with
Betty Paige bangs whenever she played Colby, and wear a lot of
wrist bands and spikey jewelry. Colby was from Nebraska—a tiny town
in the middle of nowhere where no one understood her very well. She
loved Battlestar Galactica and her cat, Fido, and appealed to the
guys out in the world who had always felt like outcasts
themselves.

Then, there was Elvi. This was Savannah’s
exotic alter-ego. For Elvi, Savannah curled her hair out until it
was a tangled, luscious mess, hanging all over her shoulders in
tantalizing tendrils. Elvi spoke with a vaguely Eastern European
accent, though she’d never say where she was from. Her story was
that she had emigrated from America after escaping from an
emotionally abusive home life. Unfortunately, Elvi attracted a lot
of similarly abusive guys who like to hurl nasty words Savannah’s
way. But she figured that maybe she may be able to help rectify
their opinion of the female race. Eventually.

The final alter-ego was Tracie. Tracie was a
teen mother living in the Appalachian hills of West Virginia. She
wore a messy brown up-do for her video sessions and smoked like a
chimney while she performed. Tracie was, at the end of the day,
Savannah’s most popular character. Men (and women) from all walks
of life couldn’t get enough of Tacie’s audacity and nerve. The
gentle twang in her voice probably didn’t hurt much, either. Or the
fact that she claimed to be able to whip up a mean apple cobbler.
Tracie was the most human, the most fallible, of all the
characters. It didn’t surprise Savannah that people were so drawn
to her. She was a little drawn to Tracie herself.

But loyalties aside, who did Savannah feel
like being that night? She could use a good turn as the dejected
Colby, but thought that might make her too sad. Tracie was too
optimistic for the way that Savannah was feeling right now, and
Elvi attracted the wrong sort for when Savannah was feeling down
like this. She decided that Candace was the best pick for that
evening. Candace’s admirers were rarely too fresh or demanding.

Savannah donned Candace’s signature blonde
wig and pulled the locks back into a messy ponytail. She hopped
onto her bed and logged onto her video-chatting website. In no time
at all, she was connected, and waiting for people to get in touch
with her. This didn’t usually take very long. Each of Savannah’s
characters had quite a few fans. And even aside from the regulars,
each version was pretty inherently attractive. She got hits from
newbies all the time.

After a few moments of waiting, a private
chat request popped up on Savannah’s screen. Wow, she thought,
skipping right over the introductions, are we? Someone must be
excited to get started. She accepted the invitation, and a video
chat screen popped up on her computer. She squinted at the image,
but the figure on the other side of the connection was hazy.

“Hey,” she drawled in her best California
manner.

“Hey,” said the voice of a young man. Of
course, Savannah thought, the young ones always line up for
Candace, don’t they?

“What brings you here this evening?” Savannah
asked.

“Oh,” the young man said, “Just looking for a
little company. It’s been a really rough day.”

“Yeah?” Said Savannah, leaning forward so
that her modest cleavage was as bared as it could be without giving
away the punchline, “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Okay...”

“You’ve got to tip me, first,” Savannah
said.

“Huh?”

“You have to tip me if you want to stay on
the line. That’s how this site works. We go into private chat, and
you pay me by the minute, plus extra if you want me to do anything
but just sit here all night.”

“Oh.”

“Haven’t you ever used a site like this?”

“No... No, I haven’t.”

“I see...”

“Ok... Let me just...”

A little “ca-ching” noise sounded on
Candace’s end of the transmission, signaling that her chat buddy
had sent a little something extra her way.

“Proceed,” she prompted.

“Well, it’s just that there’s this girl in a
few of my classes—”

“High school classes?”

“College.”

“Sorry, I can’t see your face in that
lighting. You sound pretty young.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. So, this girl?”

“Yeah. She’s driving me nuts. I mean, I know
that she’s totally out of my league, but I see something...
vulnerable in her. And I can’t get her off my mind.”

“And you want me to help you? Get her off
your mind?”

“That’d be nice.”

“No problem. What would you like?”

“Do you... Uh... Have an suggestions?”

“I could take my top off?”

“Okay.”

“Tip please.”

Ca-ching, went the computer, and Savannah
smiled. This was going to be a good haul, she could tell. With
practiced ease, she loosened the strap of her halter top, allowing
the garment to fall slowly away from her breasts. Her viewer gasped
as he realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Surprised?” she said, “Just you wait.”

As the sound of the boy’s breathing began to
quicken, Savannah ran her hands down the length of her body and
brought them to rest on her breasts. Gently, she closed the thumbs
and forefingers around her nipples and pinched, remembering the way
Gus had sent her over the edge earlier that day. Remembering him,
and pushed along by the excited breathing on the other end of the
line, Savannah felt herself becoming wet. This was by far the best
part of the job—that she got to get herself off while someone else
footed the bill.

She pinched and tweaked her nipples, pulling
herself onto her knees in front of the webcam so that her watcher
had a better view.

“That’s... That’s great...” he said.

“Want me to do more?”

Ca-ching.

Savannah smiled to herself. She let her
fingers trace an excruciatingly slow trail down her flat stomach,
letting the anticipation of the moment drive her viewer up the
wall. With her tits already fully bared, Savannah unclasped the
back of her skirt, letting the loose cotton fall away. She was
wearing a pair of hipster panties. She’d come to understand,
through her dealings with the opposite sex, that a thong was not
the best way to go, in most cases. Most men liked to see a little
juvenile vulnerability once the skirt or pants were gone. And
nothing says, “fuck me gently”, like a pair of modest briefs.

“What do you think?” Savannah said, “Should I
take them off?”

Ca-ching.

“Not so fast,” she said, crawling toward the
camera with her tits on full display, “What’re you up to over
there?”

“What do you mean?” said her mystery
viewer.

“I mean, do you have it out?” she said.

“Do I...?”

“Aren’t you gonna touch yourself?” she asked
incredulously.

“I... hadn’t thought about it.”

“Come on,” she coached, “I want you to get
your money’s worth. Whip that bad boy out. I can’t see a
thing!”

From the other end of the line, Savannah
heard the hasty unzipping of a young man about to be extremely
satisfied. She smiled into the camera and lay down on her back,
tilting the webcam down so that the boy still had a good view of
all there was to see.