"MaXiNE is a pretty name, even if the stylization is, odd." Carla typed, fidgeting slightly with her fingers against the keys.

"Thank you! And yes, style is definitely important, which brings me to my next topic: your screenname." MaXiNE messaged back, almost hearing a soft giggle in her demeanor.

"What's wrong with it?" Carla asked cautiously, feeling unsure about what exactly MaXiNE meant.

MaXiNE replied, "Nothing thematically. In fact, if it were a screenname of a viewer, 'Curves_and_Conversations,' would be perfect. As a broadcaster however, people want a person; a name a real person would have, to match the real face, even if it's just a fantasy."

"So, how about 'Carlas_Curves' as your screenname?" MaXiNE suggested enthusiastically, "It's catchy, unique, and represents your persona perfectly."

Carla nodded thoughtfully, appreciating the logic behind it. Naming her profile after her curves represented her bold decision to explore her sexuality once again. "But, is it wise to use my real first name?" Carla asked, considering her reputation.

"Again, this is fantasy," MaXiNE messaged back. "They simply desire a name that sounds real, not actually demand a real one. So, most will assume it's a stage name." MaXiNE clarified further.

Encouraged by MaXiNE's support, Carla decided to follow her suggestion. Setting aside any reservations, she took the plunge and renamed her profile to 'Carlas_Curves'. Within minutes, her number of viewers increased significantly, indicating approval from fellow members.

"So..." Carla typed, trying to imply the wry smile that was beginning to curl on her lips, "Is your name really MaXiNE?"

MaXiNE responded, "Yes, MaXiNE is my actual name, though I understand your curiosity, as many things around here can be fictionalized for entertainment purposes."

"Good enough," Carla acknowledged, understanding the concept better now. "Anyway, thanks for all your help today."

"You're welcome!" MaXiNE chirped excitedly. "However, I have to apologize and admit to a small fib. I have a third tip, topic for this session." A link appeared in the private message area, the term luv-R in the address.

Carla clicked on it, feeling both eager and anxious about venturing down this path. As she entered the website, it was a cart to an erotic e-shop. In the cart was a single item, a luv-R starter combo.

"It's... a self-pleasuring system. There is a larger vibrator to go into, your holes, and smaller one for more personal touches. They are both tied to a token-sending system, which we'll touch on more after you receive the luv-R." MaXiNE explained patiently, making sure Carla fully comprehended.

Carla silently nodded, then eyes widened when she saw the price, "I, I can't afford this!" Carla cried, with a lump in her stomach.

"My payment credentials are already entered. All you need to do is enter your address, which I can't see since I'm sending this as a gift and complete the order." MaXiNE reassured, the gentleness coming through the typed message.

It didn't matter to Carla whether MaXiNE had sent the items out of generosity or some ulterior motive - it wasn't about that. This felt liberating. The idea of using such devices filled her with excitement, dread, and anticipation all rolled into one powerful cocktail. If nothing else, Carla wanted to find out why there seemed to be so much interest in something as simple as body parts and pleasure points. Maybe the act itself could provide answers? Or maybe the journey to finding them was its own reward.

Carla was unable to contain her overwhelming gratitude for a new friend, considering that many wouldn't have stepped up for her like this in real life, let alone from an erotic chat site.

"Well, thank you MaXiNE, truly, words aren't enough for expressing how grateful I am," she wrote sincerely. She couldn't remember the last time someone had come forward so readily to assist her without asking anything in return. But then again, perhaps her willingness to share intimate details of her life played a role too.

"I've come to learn that words are rarely enough." MaXiNE typed gently, breaking the silence that began to build. "I gently run my index finger around your lips, parting them gently." MaXiNE messaged.

It struck Carla suddenly, she was no longer interacting with a stranger, merely a kindred spirit. One sharing her deepest longings and fears in an environment where judgmental whispers would otherwise haunt her forever.

[Carla]: I know our connection seems strange given the circumstances, but somehow it feels right. Like, despite never having met, we understand each other completely.

[MaXiNE]: Yes, sweetheart. As I've heard quite often: Strangers only appear that way because we allow ourselves to remain unknown.

Carla took a deep breath, leaned back into her chair, and moved her index finger around her lips, parting them as per MaXiNE's instructions.

Her heart raced at the implications, yet she found comfort in the familiarity of this shared experience, knowing full well that such acts transpired daily across different corners of the globe. It connected her to MaXiNE in ways that words could never reach.

As she continued typing away, images flashed before her eyes—vivid scenes painted in her imagination, drawing inspiration from MaXiNE's descriptiveness. Curiosity consumed her, begging to explore more than just words. With growing confidence, she hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to proceed.

[MaXiNE]: I kiss you on the lips, my tongue parting them and entering inside your mouth. My hands slide slowly up along your sides towards your breasts, teasing you, giving you time to adjust to my presence. Your nipples harden underneath my palms, betraying your arousal.

On screen, Carla repeated the instructions live, but as she rubbed her breasts her robe slid open, revealing MaXiNE's words to be true, her hardened nipples betrayed Carla's arousal. Meanwhile, her viewer numbers rose steadily and Carlas_Curves even gained a few followers.

People showed genuine interest in watching her experiences unfold, drawn to her honest narrative of navigating a previously hidden side of her life. Carla noticed that MaXiNE's presence made her feel comfortable discussing topics typically considered taboo. Her confidence grew stronger as she realized others could relate to her struggles and aspirations. The connection Carla had established with MaXiNE became deeper, turning strangers into close friends in the digital space.

[MaXiNE]: I take advantage of you poorly designed robe and go straight toward your womanhood, rubbing it with 3 fingers, two on the lips, one parting them deeper in the middle with each pass. (OOC: OMG I love a natural, bushy pussy!)

MaXiNE typed enthusiastically, making sure every detail was clear, every motion precise.

[Carla]: What does your voice sound like?

[MaXiNE] Are you familiar with those virtual assistants every operating system has now? Linda, Jill, Sara, that sort of nonsense?

[Carla]: (Laugh) I am, did you voice one of those?!

[MaXiNE]: Jill.

On screen, Carla moved with the speed of a cheetah, turning on her virtual assistant Jill, silenced because of the frustration from using it, and now having it read everything MaXiNE typed on the screen over a speaker. Her voice now low and seductive, dripping with passion, causing a pleasant shiver within Carla.

"Imagine me running my wet tongue across your skin, lingering tenderly near your sensitive spots. Then, taking a gentle nip and pulling you closer to me." Feeling the heat rise between her legs, Carla knew MaXiNE's intentions weren't idle fantasies. Each stroke of her words left her aching, longing for physical contact beyond the keyboard.

With trembling fingers, Carla removed her silk robe, allowing it to fall gracefully off her shoulders onto the floor, wearing nothing else.

Carla lay down on the bed, spreading her legs wide apart, letting MaXiNE guide her through the sensual ride. Carla's hand ran lightly along her curves, moving ever closer to her center of desire. Gripping firmly, she started to move rhythmically, echoing MaXiNE's directions while maintaining an intense focus on their conversation. MaXiNE provided explicit details, leaving no room for ambiguity.

"Your moans turn into sighs of relief. Breathe deeply, exhale gently. Embrace the power surging through your body. Imagine me tracing circles around your clitoris, getting faster, harder until you're hovering on the edge of ecstasy. Ready to take flight." Carla bit her lip in anticipation, her breath quickening, imagining the scene described in minute detail.

Then a chirp arose from Carla's cell phone. Her motherly instincts, or perhaps obsessions, made her reflexively stop and check the message. It was from Nick's phone, but the message stated it was from Anthony, one of Nick's friends. "Hey Ms. Miller, it's Anthony. We're at the lecture hall. Nick needs a ride home." The message read.

Carla, barely looking, grabbed an overcoat, slipped it on, and while tying the overcoat closed, her frustration began to well up. "Dammit Nick! Why now?! Why always during a situation like this?!" She cursed, her tone a mix of anger and annoyance.

Using the camera, Carla spoke out to MaXiNE once more. "I really hope you don't think less of me," Carla apologized, earnestly.

MaXiNE understood Carla's predicament, sympathizing with her struggle to balance family obligations against her own personal growth. "You must trust me when I say this doesn't change things. If you wish, we'll continue our conversation upon your return?" MaXiNE suggested compassionately.

There were also many other pops from chat window. People chiming in encouragement, sharing stories, sometimes seeking advice themselves. However, none of it seemed real. Just voices speaking to air. Until today. Today, everything changed. Now, she looked at people not as mere pixels on a screen, but individuals living their lives faraway, just like hers.

And though her son’s text snapped her out of the trance she was in, it hadn't stopped the connections she formed in here. The bond with MaXiNE remained strong. Even if physically, they were thousands of miles apart.

Trying to express the most passionate, authentic gratitude she'd ever felt, all Carla could muster was a tearful, "Thanks!" Then turned off her computer.

Carla's attention now turned to her son. With Nick waiting for a ride, Carla decided to pick him up immediately. Quickly putting on shoes, she headed outside. Cold night wind brushed past her face, stinging slightly from her exposed state. Carla hurried to get to Nick quickly. Once there, she found Anthony and asked what happened.

"Well, the Professor cancelled tonight's lecture, giving us a reading assignment instead." Anthony explained. "Everyone was about to leave, but somebody had brought alcohol..."

"I did," Nick said, slurred. "I brought the alcohol." Nick admitted, almost proud of himself.

"And here we are, Ms. Miller." Anthony concluded. "I don't have a car, since I live on campus, and I sure wasn't going to let Nick drive his; not in his condition."

"You did good Anthony, thank you." Carla said appreciatively.

"You're welcome, Ms. Miller. Oh, and here, take this." Anthony said, as he presented her with a key. "It's the key to the lecture hall. The Professor gives it to students to open up before they get here. Nick was the last one to have it, but if I were you, I wouldn't give it back to him right away." With that, Anthony left for his dorm.

Carla looked at her son, Nick, the way he was dressed. His button-down shirt half-unbuttoned, showing some flesh from his chest, jeans too tight, displaying parts of his thighs that shouldn't show. Clearly affected by whatever incident led to drinking, Nick's speech pattern was slower, and his walk wobblier than usual. In that instant, seeing her grown child in such a vulnerable state filled Carla with maternal concern.

Almost without thinking, she wrapped an arm around Nick's waist to steady him. But he didn't resist - quite the opposite. His response was surprisingly receptive, pressing his face into her shoulder and embracing her tightly.

Feeling a wave of warmth flow through her chest, Carla recognized the profound significance of this moment. Not only had her adult son sought solace in her arms, but it was a symbolic embrace, encompassing both a newfound understanding and a reconciliation with a distant chapter of their relationship.

It was then that Carla realized something significant. Amidst these drastic changes occurring around her, there existed a stark contrast – between her vibrant online persona and the dreary reality encapsulating her existence. Yet somehow, amidst despair, she discovered hope in unexpected places.

As they reached the car, Carla helped Nick into the back seat, ensuring he wouldn't hurt himself further. With every step, the cold air penetrated her thin clothes, sending shivers down her spine. Climbing behind the wheel, she glanced back at him briefly, observing the deep lines etched on his young face, hinting at burdens heavier than his years should carry. Her heart ached for him. This boy, once full of promise and innocence, now wrestling with adulthood, carrying responsibilities usually reserved for much older men.

Once they arrived back home, Carla settled Nick comfortably in his room, ready to sleep it off. Taking care to remove any traces of alcohol, she quietly wished him sweet dreams and left him to rest.

"She hit on me." Nick quietly admitted, his eyes closed. "Did I ever tell you that?"

Carla was about to ask who, but her heart ran cold with realization. It was Nick's new stepmother; the mistress her ex-husband, Nick's father, cheated on Carla with: Sharon. The woman whose presence would send waves of hatred coursing through her veins whenever she thought of it. How dare she approach her son...

"I was the only one, out of all my friends, who hadn't slept with her." Nick continued, under the truth serum that was the alcohol. "How do I tell Dad this?"

"I've learned from experience that truths like these sprouts eventually." Carla explained. "Just stay clear of it, stay especially clear of that tramp."

"I just don't get it. Why they all did it, even Dad." Nick whispered softly. "She's a hag, mom; a hag! She's not beautiful. Not like you, mom." His last statement came accompanied by a sudden rush of tears streaming down his already swollen face. Carla moved swiftly toward him, crouching beside his bed.

"Shh, it's okay kiddo," she cooed, attempting to console him despite her own worries, trying to assuage the pain she saw written clearly on his features.

Carla suddenly caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. The image shocked her — the ravenous hunger that burned fiercely in her dark, brooding eyes. She'd become a shadow of her former self. But that was all about to change.