CALL OF THE DAY: hypothetically cam-compatible
He is a gentleman from New Orleans, one of my more infrequent regulars who is languidly, baroquely, infallibly polite until the point where he gets his big black hands on my creamy white ass (his words, not mine).
"I wanna ask you a quick question," he said, and then hemmed and hawed half of his seven minutes away. "I know you talk sexy and you're a dirty girl, but, um, hypothetically are you capable of doing webcam work?"
- No, I told you before, baby, my company doesn't offer that.
"No, I mean, do you have the assets to do it? Hypothetically?"
- Well, my computer's pretty slow, so no.
"But with a faster computer would you be, you know, able to do that kinda work? Realistically?"
... Oh. OH. You want to know if I'm hot enough to do webcam work?
- Oh, honey, I walk around with my tits on a platter in real life, I don't think I'd have any problems at all. Now why don't you stop wondering and grab yourself a couple of handfuls of this ass?
I know why he's asking. What I don't know is why my answer should make him stop wondering.