Web Cam Girl

*Standard Warning. This story deals with the fetish of attractive women who smoke. If that offends you, please move on to other stories. For my friends who share my fetish, this one also incorporates my only other fetish, a love of all things form-fitting and knit with ribbed-knit tops and sweaters well, topping the list. If that's not your thing, just substitute yours for mine (and your preferred brand) Sand enjoy. :-)

Trevor Anderson - 24

Lacy Grimes - 20

*****

"Dude? Where have you been all week? You win a shitload of money and drop off the face of the earth?"

"No, it's not like that, man. It's just that everyone has suddenly become my best friend, you know? I feel like I can't trust anyone anymore."

"Anyone? That's kinda harsh, Ty. We've been best friends since grade school. Are you saying you don't trust me, either?"

Trevor Anderson tried to fly under the radar after he matched five numbers in the Powerball Mega-Jackpot three months ago. Because there was a '5+ power ball' winner who'd won $304.9 million dollars, he thought he could quietly collect his winnings without fanfare. The big winner had taken home $146 million after federal and state taxes while Anderson's $47 million second prize had netted him just under $25 million.

While his win was a matter of public record, no one would likely have known if a local reporter hadn't done some research wherein she learned the second-place winner lived just outside Indianapolis where she worked for the city's newspaper, The Star.

When she stopped by to secure an interview with him, he initially denied being the winner. She then flipped her iPad around and showed him the website with his name on it. He then told her it was someone else with the same name. Then she showed him the address the winner had registered with the state when he cashed the winning ticket and it was game over.

"I can do a very friendly, very favorable piece on you Mr. Anderson, or I can write one that makes you out to be something less than that. Either way, I'm writing the story."

He invited her in and answered her questions for a few minutes and that was that. But before she left he said, "I hope you know you just ruined my life."

She smiled at him then said, "Mr. Anderson, you chose to play Powerball. You chose to cash the winning ticket. The public has a right to know these things so please don't blame me. If you want someone to blame, take a look in the mirror."

She paused then said, "You're a very nice-looking guy, Mr. Anderson. I'm sure you'll be attracting a lot of female attention. Being a college graduate I'm also sure you'll find a way to weed out the unwanted kind and perhaps find someone who'll love you for who you are and not just for what's in your bank account. I have to say though, I don't envy you."

"Fat chance of that," he said cynically. "I have 25 million reasons now for women to say they love me. Divining their true intentions would take a psychic or a prophet and I don't believe in either."

"Well, for what it's worth, had I met you prior to your life-changing win, I'd have gone out with you. I'm sure once the 'heat' dies down, you'll be able to find others who would, too. As long as you don't live too ostentatiously and give away your big secret, that is."

Anderson had already paid to have a new home built for his parents and he'd bought each of them new cars which had been delivered very quietly and discreetly. They lived on the other side of the city so while their friends might make the connection, it wouldn't be made directly by anyone else.

The only other person he'd told was his best friend, Tony McAllister, and Trevor knew he wouldn't tell a soul without his permission. But that became a moot point two days after the interview when his name and face were on the front page of the Indianapolis Star. His phone started ringing off the hook. Callers included those he'd known well, those he barely knew, and some he'd never met stopping by 'just to say hello' at all hours, every day for nearly a week with stragglers rolling in here and there for another week after that.

He had no idea he knew so many people let alone that they'd always thought so highly of him. After the initial warm-up, the request invariably followed. "Say, I was just wondering if you might be willing to help me out with something." It was always something. A new car, a project, an idea, a family member who was supposedly sick who needed help, some new furniture, and quite a few other things he couldn't believe they'd asked for.

Of all those requests, he helped just one person and he hadn't really even known her well. She'd been a classmate of his from K-12 but they probably hadn't said 50 words to each other in all that time. Her mom really was very ill and they had no insurance. She'd racked up over $115,000 in medical bills and she not only couldn't pay them, she could no longer work. He'd gone to the hospital and paid her bill in full then to the bank and paid off her mortgage and given them $50,000 in cash. She and her mother had been so grateful they'd both cried and Anderson feared the mother might die of a heart attack making the cure worse than the ailment. At some point, that's what he wanted to do with a good chunk of his money, but it would have to be done his way and on his timetable.

Okay, he'd also done something nice for Tony who hadn't asked for a dime. He let him choose any vehicle he wanted then bought it and paid his first year's insurance. Tony was now the proud owner of a beautiful new silver Mustang GT that had set Trevor back just over fifty grand.

He laughed when he realized that after buying his parents a house and two new automobiles, his best friend a car, and helping this woman with her medical bills and mortgage, he hadn't even put a dent in his winnings. In fact, the interest and dividends he was making on the $20 million he'd invested would soon make up everything he'd spent thus far.

At one point, he realized he could never spend it all unless he went absolutely crazy, something that just wasn't in his personality. A new home with every possible amenity and a new car were all he could think of and that wouldn't even set him back another million. Much less than that amount would buy him an amazing home with a media center, a huge indoor pool, and a very nice car or truck or...whatever he wanted.

He looked back at Tony and said, "I trust you. That goes without saying when I said I don't know whom to trust. My parents, too. But other than you three...not so much."

"What about Samantha? Have you thought about trying to get back together with her?"

"Fat chance. After the way it ended, if she did say she wanted to start over, how could I believe her?"

"Yeah, okay. Point taken. But she was your 'everything girl.' I mean, she was all the things you want in someone, so I guess I was just kind of hoping maybe, you know..."

"I do know and I appreciate you thinking about me like that, but Samantha and I are history."

He looked at his best friend then said, "She was pretty amazing, though. Her acceptance of my...things...was incredible."

"Hey, those are your things, Ty, and you deserve to have someone who accepts you—and then—just like Samantha. I'm not into them although I get it. I have things I like that do nothing for you so I just accept that you like what you like and that's cool. There have to be plenty of other women out there like Sam, don't you think?"

"I'm sure there are if you're talking just in terms of my 'three S's.' The hard part is finding someone who's as amazing as Samantha was as a person and who's also into my stuff. Just because a girl might like all three of them or even do them or whatever, doesn't mean I want a relationship with her. The girl also has to be kind and sweet and really nice. Not Girl-Scout sweet. Just not some loud, mouthy, bitchy..."

"I get it, man. I know exactly what you're into just like you know my stuff. I know you think it's tough to find a girl like Samantha, but imagine being into my thing to the degree I'm into it. I can't just walk up to a girl and say, 'I really love the thought of sniffing a pussy that hasn't been washed for a day or two—mind if I smell yours?' so yeah, I get it."

Trevor laughed. "No one does that, Tony. No ones starts out talking about their fetishes. You get to know someone a little then find an appropriate time and place to casually float the idea and see how she reacts. Having fetishes makes things a lot harder for sure, but not impossible. Of course, the more intense the fetish, the more difficult it becomes. In my case, I've got two of them so bad I'm not sure I can even get off without them anymore. That said, a whole lot of women will do a whole lot of things for the right guy. You just gotta be the right guy first. Okay, not every woman will do everything a guy likes and some won't do anything. But there are women out there who are very open-minded and willing to make a guy happy—assuming he's willing to be all the things she wants and needs, too."

"You make it sound like love is a business arrangement, bro," Tony replied.

"Well, in a way, it is. Love is the word we use to express the notion that we believe the other person will meet our needs whether they be something like financial support or physical security or being a best friend and/or being an intimate partner. Most people prefer to have this warm, fuzzy feeling and then just hope for the best when they make decisions about relationships. They call it 'love' and no one really questions their underlying beliefs, because hey, it's love, right? In reality, people consciously or subconsciously weigh the entire package, look at the pros and cons, and if they determine the other person is a keeper, great. If not, they move on and try again."

"Okay, I guess I can buy that. So...when are you planning on moving on or trying again?"

"Oh, I've moved on. Like I said, Samantha is history. As to trying again, I don't really know. I kind of need to let the dust settle with this whole lottery thing and then we'll see."

"Yeah, but what are you gonna do in the meantime? After having a hottie like Samantha for a girlfriend for over a year and you know...gettin' it all the time...do you think you can really just go cold turkey?"

Trevor laughed then said, "I haven't been 'gettin' any' since we broke up so yeah, pretty much."

"So no relief of any kind? You just wait to let mother nature do her thing via wet dreams? Dude—seriously?"

"I'm not opposed to jerking off, it's just that it's such a serious downgrade from the real thing, you know? I guess I could do the 'rent a 'beav' thing but the thought of some woman just laying there saying, 'Oh, baby, oh baby' while she's thinking about what to have for dinner later on doesn't do it for me. Besides, if she's not totally and completely into my stuff then it wouldn't work anyway."

"I'm sure you could pay her to wear what you like. Hell, you could buy her exactly what you like and dress her up in it. As a tip, you could let her keep the clothes and I'm sure she'd...you know...show her appreciation. And I have no doubt you can find some um...lady of the night...who smokes."

Anderson's two fetishes had been with him for many years and had only grown stronger over time. It all started when he saw this gorgeous high school girl smoking a cigarette during a baseball game. She was flat-out gorgeous with long, silky blonde hair, a great set of boobs, and a very tight waist. All of her physical attributes had been perfectly accentuated by the long sleeved, white, ribbed-knit sweater she was wearing. That image had been indelibly burned into his brain and he'd whacked off to it countless times before.

From that point on, he'd found himself more and more interested in girls and women who wore the kind of things he liked—form-fitting sweaters and knit tops—and especially those who also smoked. Over time, he found himself completely uninterested in any other girl or woman regardless of what else she had going for her. Oh, and if that wasn't enough, they had to be more the shy, quiet type, too. And last but not least, they had to be interested in dating him.

It went without saying they had to be attractive to him so putting all of those things together severely limited his potential dating pool. And now this lottery thing—this...curse...which should make things easier...was making it even more difficult. A lot more difficult.

As Anderson thought about how small his potential circle of eligible woman was, he also knew that unless they also enjoyed sex—a lot—there was no future in it so at some point it seemed like he was hoping against hope to win the sexual-fetish lottery the same way he'd won the actual lottery.

"Fuck!" he said out loud.

"Dude? What the hell? What's that all about?" Tony asked having been startled by his best friend's comment.

"I was just sitting here thinking about the hole I've dug for myself."

"Hole? What fucking hole are you talking about it? I'm completely lost."

"I wonder if there's some way to increase the odds in my favor," Trevor mused.

"Uh...Trevor?" Tony began waving his hand in front of his friend's face. "Yoo-hoo. Earth to Anderson. What the hell's going on in that head of yours?"

He snapped out of his self-induced haze and said, "Sorry, Tone-ster. I was just trying to think of some way to make finding a new Samantha a little less daunting."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that." Tony chuckled before saying, "That chick was...smokin'." He laughed some more before saying, "Figuratively and literally."

Samantha was everything Trevor had wanted. He was 20 when he first met her and she was 19. He'd seen her at a party and he'd been immediately drawn to her by the very soft, light-blue sweater she was wearing coupled with her gorgeous smile and pretty face. He watched her interact with other people for a good while as he admired her sexy figure, so she went outside onto the patio, he followed her almost instinctively.

Just as he'd hoped, she'd gone outside to smoke and Anderson was hard as a rock as he watched her draw deeply on her cigarette then exhale a long, thick plume of smoke into the cold, crisp air. He'd wandered around then waited to catch her eye before moving in. He struck up a conversation with her and managed to get her number.

The next day he had a date with her for the following Friday and they became exclusive within a week. Trevor waited a month before even mentioning his fascination with attractive women who smoked and Samantha had laughed when he told her.

"I've never heard of such a thing," she said. "Smoking is a turn on?"

"No, not smoking, per se. Rather, watching a pretty girl who smokes is the turn on."

"So this gets you hot?" she asked as she inhaled deeply then exhaled in a very sexy way.

"God, I want you so fucking bad right now," he told her and moments later they were fucking each other's brains out in his dorm room.

Everything had been perfect for nearly a year when Trevor noticed Samantha seemed to be smoking less with each passing day. When Trevor asked her, she seemed very upset. Finally she told him she wanted to quit but had been afraid to say anything knowing how important it was to him.

"I just want to be healthy," she told him. "I really like you, Trevor, and I don't want to lose you. I love wearing the things you like and that won't change. I mean, it's cold here all the time so even if I didn't like those things, I'd still have very little choice. But I have to stop smoking. Can you let me do that? Please?"

Trevor really had tried. He did his best to be supportive. He even knew it was the right thing to do. But no amount of effort could break his own addiction to needing to have a girlfriend who loved to smoke. Within a month, a long month in which Samantha had managed to white-knuckle her way to quitting with help from the patch, he no longer looked at her 'that way.' She no longer met his needs. He therefore, no longer wanted to be with her.

She'd been bitterly disappointed and then got angry when he told her it was over. "You don't love me anymore just because I won't smoke? That is totally fucked up! You're...you're a dick!"

Then she screamed at him. "You're fucking sick! What the hell is wrong with you anyway?"

And with that, it was over.

He'd thought about her final comments a thousand times over the months that followed, and his only answer was to quote Popeye, "I yam what I yam." Trevor liked women who smoked, and it seemed unlikely in the extreme that would ever change.

Trevor looked back at his good buddy and told him, "I have an idea. Whether or not it might work is unknown, but until I'm ready to go out in public again and try and meet women, I think I'm gonna give this a try."

He spent a few minutes explaining his 'grand idea' and Tony said, "I guess it beats doing nothing at all. Unlike watching porn, at least you'll be having some form of contact with real women. And who knows, right? Stranger things have happened."

The way Tony smiled told Trevor he meant the lottery ticket his friend had bought on a whim for five bucks. "Yeah, no kidding."

The following day, after meeting with the architect he'd hired to design his new home on a five-acre plot of land he was buying in a quiet Indianapolis suburb, Trevor started doing research.

He'd never so much as checked out web-cam sex or whatever people called it. As he started scrolling through various sites, he couldn't help but laugh. There had to be tens of thousands of girls around the world trying to make money via web cams. He quickly learned that pretty much anything a guy wanted could be bought and paid for from just talking with a girl to watching her and her boyfriend (or girlfriend) fuck on camera.

From there he went straight into looking for attractive young women between 18 and 25 who smoked. There were hundreds of them with many being from other countries. That might be fine for a while, but he wanted a girl from America. He wasn't racist or xenophobic, he just wanted his future wife not to speak English with a thick, heavy accent. As with smoking, it only had to make sense to him so...case closed.

Anderson opened a PayPal account and dropped five grand into it then started surfing around. To his great delight he found several very attractive girls who were happy to smoke for him. Two of them had heard of the fetish while the others had not. He made conversation with them as they asked about the fetish and why he liked it so much. He did his best to explain it and as long as he kept paying, they were happy to keep talking and smoking.

However, when it came to wearing the things he liked, none of them even owned anything at all like he described. Besides, they made most of their money taking things off, not putting them on. One owned a school girl outfit, another a French maid's costume, but none of them had rib-knit tops or sweaters or anything even close.

After two more days of looking, he finally found a girl who had a very pretty cashmere sweater which she wore for him while she sat and smoked and talked with him. He even managed to 'take care of business' while he watched her. She was incredibly attractive and very seductive and she was exactly what he was looking for. He put her into his favorites list and tipped her $50 for which she was very grateful.

He looked for her every day for the next two weeks but only found her twice. After several hours of conversation, she finally admitted to him she was married and did this when her husband was away so she could make some extra money. Okay, she also loved the idea of getting naked for strange men while they...got off, but there was no possibility of her being a regular fixture in his life.

Anderson wasn't sure what to think when he sat there feeling bitterly disappointed and let down in spite of knowing this was going to be anything but easy. And that's when another idea came to him. He searched through several hundred different girls and put about a dozen of them into his favorites list then began contacting them one at a time.