Heather Ch. 01

Chapter 1

Part 1: Heather

Heather was admiring her naked body in the mirror. The money and time she spent naked in the tanning booth had paid off. Her skin had a nice olive glow. She lifted her proud Double D breasts and ran her hand across her pussy hairs. She had some fine blond hairs, but not many. She was frequently accused of shaving, but a razor has never touched her "bush." Heather inherited her boobs from her mother, Tammy Trueheart, who has triple D hangers. Her pussy is another story, as her mother had a massively hairy brunette jungle. While moving from side to side, Julie entered their dorm room.

Julie was her roommate, and they were both comfortable with nudity. Julie was of Asian descent and the adopted daughter of the psychology professor, Dr. Martin Freud. His name was actually Ford, but his wife even called him Freud. Likewise, Heather was the only person outside of the family that called her Julie. Because of her massive tits, the guys called her "Hitomi." Her tits made Heather's look undernourished in comparison. Julie was one of 5 young ladies Martin adopted. They were all now between 18 and 20. He had one son about the same age with autism or Asperger's, or something that began with the letter "A". Julie was an enigma. Her family had money and lived locally, yet she chose not to live at home and to pay most of her own way. Heather was not as fortunate.

"Nice tan," Julie said, fishing for something comfortable to say in what felt like a slightly awkward moment.

Heather didn't even bother to cover up as Julie looked away. She was still looking at her ass from different angles. "I need to make some money," Heather said, still admiring herself.

"Are you planning on using your body?" Julie asked as Heather seemed insistent on remaining naked.

Heather slowly donned a worn, nearly white terry cloth robe while Julie undressed and slipped into an upscale silk kimono. It had dragons on it. It looked new. "I wouldn't know how my body could make money," Heather replied. "Other than the obvious," she added with a laugh.

Julie paused for a moment and considered her next words carefully. "You wouldn't have to fuck anyone to use your body. I do it all the time."

"Really. Go on. I am intrigued." Julie now had Heather's attention more than her ass in the mirror.

Julie explained that on certain nights, clubs ran contests.

Heather interrupted, "You mean wet T-shirt contests."

Julie continued, "That and other contests. There are pretty leg contests and some amateur stripper nights. There is a lot within a few hours' drive from Detroit to Chicago. Many rural bars have them as a novelty, too. I can show the circuit and teach you the ropes. I must warn you, these tits had never lost. Second-place money is pretty good too."

By that, Heather assumed Julie meant she would finish second. "Sure, I'll try it, and we'll see how it goes."

"Great!" Julie responded. It would be a good bonding experience, she thought. "Girls that strip together, stick together." Nothing like a double entendre from a closet lesbian.

Part 2: The Circuit

The girls went on a road trip the following weekend to Bumfuck, Indiana, a small redneck town near the Kentucky border. It was a simple wet T-shirt contest that normally ended with no T-shirts on. Julie explained, "You gotta show skin to win."

The girls wore tank top-style shirts with their tits spilling out. They were going to show tit simply by walking. Country music was playing in this rustic bar, which answered the question, "How many Budweiser signs can you fit above a bar?" The "Stage" was designed as a band area. Boards on cinder blocks extended it. The leveling didn't quite match up. Julie used "Hitomi" as her stage name. Heather opted for "Barbie." There were four other girls and a lot of guys.

Before the show, Hitomi showed Barbie how to work the crowd by flirting with the guys. You find the leader of a large group, press your body up against his, lick his face, and gently grab his package. Then leave before he can grab you back. It was like making a promise you don't intend on keeping. Barbie just watched this first time as Julie whispered in some scruffy guy's ear, placed her tongue inside as she mashed her tits up against him and gave him a reach around. He had a small package.

Once on stage, Julie's man was leading the cheers for her. Heather considered the contest over before it began. Hitomi, Barbie, and four girls named Crystal (one spelled with a K to be different) were all sprayed with water and began dancing, or more like moving around, attempting to look sexy on a stage made for a 4-piece band. Julie was thinking this wasn't the best place to break in Heather. In an attempt to win, one of the Crystals (not the one with a K) ripped open her shirt, exposing her B-cups to the crowd. They went wild. Julie looked at Heather. At this point, the proverbial gloves were off, and so were the shirts.

Julie and Heather went to center stage and ripped off their shirts, exposing Indiana to some of the finest tits the state has ever seen in a bar called "Bud's." The crowd cheered even louder for their tits as the girls held them up and jiggled them. As expected, Julie came in first ($500), and Heather came in second ($100), which could cover the gas money.

After 3 more second-place finishes in the tri-state area, Heather decided to up her game. They strolled into the next contest, as usual, in skimpy breakaway tops. Heather opted to wear a short skirt. This place had an actual stage located several feet above the audience. When they introduced Barbie, Heather walked over to the edge of the stage. The guys went wild as Heather neglected to wear panties. The audience had a full upskirt view of her sweet pussy that looked clean-shaven, but was naturally almost hairless. The other girls and the announcer on stage suspected what was happening, but none of the various Crystals, Ambers, and Sapphires were prepared to go bottomless. She had caught them off guard, but next time won't be so easy. Heather's pussy snatched the victory away from Julie.

"Looks like the student has become the teacher," Julie remarked on the drive back to the dorm. Heather just smiled at her. She hadn't change back to her regular clothes. She liked the feel of cool air rushing across her pussy. Her mother frequently drove this way. If she were pulled over, she would shift her legs and let the officer see her hairy pussy. Heather remembered Mom sometimes going back to the car with the cop, her head disappearing from view. Tammy never got a ticket.

"If you want to show off your pussy, there are amateur strip shows that pay better, although you would have to compete against my hot Asian tits and pussy." Julie offered.

"Game on." Heather smiled at Julie.

The next strip contest was held in Kalamazoo, just a hop, skip, and a jump away. The girls came out one at a time and did their act. Afterward, they came out and let the applause pick the winner, as usual. It wasn't all girls crowding the stage, edging toward the center to show off their tits to the boys. They drew names from a hat. Heather was in a prime position. She went last. She got to watch the competition and could see what worked. Only 2 Crystals were there this time. Some of the first strippers didn't even remove their bottoms. Imagine the guys expecting to see pussy and not seeing it. Not exposing your pussy to a room full of men was one way to avoid the "clap."

Hitomi was a big hit as she swayed her monster tits. She bent over and swayed her jugs, something Heather couldn't do as well because of their firmness. Toward the end, she revealed her fine black-haired Asian bush. The guys loved seeing her pussy more than her gigantic tits. One of the Crystals got a good reaction when she had some lint on her pussy and then touched herself, brushing it away.

When "Barbie" was announced, Heather put her plan into action. She spent little time teasing the crowd. She was completely naked midway through. On the last song, Heather went to the edge of the stage and spread open her pussy lips. She had fingered herself and was moaning loudly. She knew every guy would be thinking of her when they went home to beat off. All Heather could think was "Winner, winner chicken dinner."

Heather and Julie picked up their checks. There was an older man there. He introduced himself as "Frank" and congratulated Heather on the win. He asked to take her to dinner. Heather noticed his clothes: his Stefano Ricci suit and Santoni Oxfords. A man who knows clothes and is not gay. She instinctively reached out to feel his lapel. After a guy sees you naked on stage, fingering yourself, there has got to be expectations. Heather politely declined.

"Next time, maybe," Frank said, bowing slightly as he walked away.

Julie and Heather drove back. Julie queried, "What the fuck was that all about?!"

Heather replied, "Fuck. You were there just like me. I'm concerned about the 'next time.' I thought I may have seen him in the audience at one of the other clubs."

"You got a stalker," Julie said, concerned.

"Thanks for the reassurance."

Over time, the parameters changed. Julie had won so many events that the Crystals (including the ones with a K) "unionized" and decided to boycott any event that Julie participated in. The owners needed multiple contestants, so they caved. Julie had limited options. The girls were now flying solo.

Part 3 Frank Fink

Without Julie, Heather had to make her own contacts and decide which events to entertain. This was harder than shaking your tits. Heather had estimated that 1,000 guys had jacked off over her. She decided to increase her revenue by selling sexy non-nude photos of herself. She would sign them and split the money with the club. This would give the guys something to look at while stroking. Heather was working a cold, rainy night in Detroit at a wet T-shirt contest. The photos didn't sell; no one really knew her. Despite wearing her pussy revealing skirt, she finished third. She had fifty dollars. Walking out to her car, Heather felt a cold, wet breeze up her shirt. It was like an icy Cosmic finger had touched her pussy. It gave her a shiver through her whole body. When she tried to start her vehicle, she got the "You are fucked" light on the dashboard.

Feeling like crying, a black Audi pulled up next to her vehicle. It was the kind of car that the bad guys drove in the films. She imagined she was going to be gang raped by the Boys in the Hood. That would be the fitting end to this lousy evening.

As it turned out, it was Frank, her stalker. "Need some help?" Frank asked.

Heather was glad to see a familiar face being stuck at the wrong end of the state at night. It was not time to blow him off. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Heather explained her perilous situation as they yelled at each other through the rolled-down windows. Frank offered to drive Heather back if she would stop and have dinner with him. He would also have "his people" tow and repair her car and drive it back.

The wheels were turning in Heather's head and unfortunately not on her car. What was the worst that could happen? Hell, she would blow the guy if he did all of that. She accepted and hopped in the man's car. A wrecker soon appeared. Heather kept her legs together. Even though Frank had seen her pussy a dozen times, she didn't want to escalate anything by flashing him.

At dinner, and at a fine restaurant at that, they swapped bios. Heather was a young local girl with not much to tell, attending the university, changing majors every semester like a woman changes shoes. Frank was retired and didn't need to brag about wealth. He oozed with class and style. He'd been divorced twice, with a son from each marriage. He said now, he was just looking for beautiful companionship (whatever that meant), but he didn't elaborate. He told Barbie, who he discovered was really Heather Trueheart, "And you are the most beautiful goddess I have ever laid eyes on."

Heather blushed at the compliment. She agreed; after all, she had a mirror and weekly tanning appointments. Not to mention the hair and nails. She deflected, I think Hitomi is far more beautiful."

Frank responded, "She is beautiful indeed, but I prefer blondes."

Heather made it home unmolested. She got her car back in two days. She didn't even ask what was wrong with it. The engine purred. Heather "allowed" Frank to drive and escort her to her gigs, and in return he had to treat her to a nice dinner. Most guys would feel like they were being played.

Frank just enjoyed her company and gazing at her nakedness. As it turns out, Frank could also cheer and clap very loudly, which was a plus.

Heather was feeling comfortable around Frank. He had a small online presence as the former owner of Fink Enterprises, which was bought out for an undisclosed amount. He also had a Facebook page. He used it mostly to look at recent photos of his sons and to stay in contact with the various women he paid alimony to. Heather was headed back to Detroit, where she finished third. She wasn't excited, but felt she had to go through the motions.

Frank sensed Heather's lack of enthusiasm. He looked at Heather and suggested, "Instead of stripping in a place that has bad memories, why don't I pay you to give me a private show. I can pay the $500 you would have gotten if you won."

Heather had her gears turning. "I take it you might want to touch me in such a situation. I never get touched on stage."

"Ah, I see your concern," Frank said plainly. "I am erectile dysfunctional, well, mostly." I doubt if I will get erect even with touching. I will give you an extra $500 for the lap dance/grinding/ touching scene. If by a freak chance I have an orgasm, I will pay you $10,000 as I have not had one in years." Frank paused. "And I will ask you to marry me."

Heather chuckled at the last part. Normally she would ask for the money up front, but she had grown to trust Frank. What is the worst that could happen? She would take a load of cum from a geezer and get fucked a second time on a promise of cash. She began to see his condition as a challenge and not a ruse. In any case, this would be far better than the possible fifty dollars she would get in the rigged Detroit contest. And she didn't have to show off her tits to a room full of gangbangers. She felt safer with Frank one-on-one than in Detroit.

Heather looked at Frank with a friendly, agreeing smile. "Cash up front?" She asked anyway. Fuck it.

Frank smiled and nodded his head. "We can do that." He punched home into his GPS. He knew how to get there, but it had become a force of habit, driving Heather to various venues where she showed off her wares to toothless, drooling yahoos. That was not really the case, but Frank had wealth, status, and teeth. He didn't intentionally look down on people, but he did wonder why everyone wasn't as successful as he was.

Frank lived in a secluded area. The garage door opened as he parked his black Audi next to his other black Audi. "You really love this car," Heather remarked as she saw the second vehicle.

"My ex-wife is driving my third one. I know what I like. It is just that simple." Frank responded.

Heather assumed she was on that list. It was a combination naughty-and-nice list. The house was rather modest. It had four bedrooms and a nice great room, but nothing special beyond that. Nothing that suggested Frank was as wealthy as his profile indicated. Frank didn't want to reward any thieves in case of a break-in. His extra rooms were in case his sons came to visit, which sadly never happened. He really needed to get rid of the wood-paneled walls from the seventies.

Frank entered his bedroom and had changed out of his suit into a simple Tee and jeans. He looked odd. He handed Heather 10 Benjamins. "Let's get this party going."

Heather had on her short panty-less tight red skirt that hugged her ass cheeks. She thought she looked good in it, especially after all the time she spent admiring it in the mirror. Julie had her eyes on it too. The loose bare midriff top was almost as revealing as it showed off her under boobs, stopping just short of the nipple. It was barely "street legal," like her stripper friends would say.

Frank sat in a comfy chair overlooking a large open area of the great room. A large wooden dining table and chairs were set against the wall. Heather doubted if Frank moved that by himself. Heather started with a couple of teasing dances to classic modern stripper songs. "Girls, Girls, Girls, "Hot for Teacher," and "Cherry Pie" for starters. It was more to warm Heather up and calm her own jitters. She danced around the room occasionally hiking her skirt up above her ass. Frank got to glimpse at the goods. She also swung her boobs around so the nipples would show. After a half dozen songs, Heather had overcome her jitters. In fact, she was now playing stripper jeopardy in her mind. "Alex, I will take cum load for $10,000." She was turning herself on watching Frank with a silly, boyish grin. He looked a bit creepy.

Heather slowed things down with "Stacy's Mom," although if anything, the roles are reversed. She stood in front of smiling Frank, swung her hips back and forth to the music, and lifted her top off over her head. She used to rip them off in front of salivating Goobers for less money. This was an additional cost savings.

Standing in front of Frank, Heather placed her tits in front of him. Her hair caressed his face as her hot breath whispered in his ear, "You like my titties?" Frank nodded. Frank's pants didn't budge. Maybe he wasn't lying. Alex: "I'll take a rematch for $1,000.

She danced to the back of Frank's chair and nestled his head in her boobs, with tits pressing his cheeks. She came back to face her mark, and her skirt dropped. The pussy was out and being rubbed. It was now lap dance time, hopefully to raise the dead. She sat on Frank's lap and ground her perfect ass (if anyone doubted it was perfect, just ask Heather or Julie) all over his crotch. She leaned back in the chair, resting herself on Frank. His hands were on the armrests like a gentleman. Heather picked up his hands and placed them on her lungs. Once they were there, Frank squeezed gently. He had a soft touch which Heather liked. She wasn't being pawed, but caressed. Heather could tell Frank never did any manual labor. She felt comfortable guiding his hand to her awaiting pussy. Heather was already wet from doing this kind of strip tease. Frank wasn't much of a penetrator, but rather gently rubbed the clit. Heather bit her lip to prevent an embarrassing gush, something she sometimes does, but only by herself.

Heather let her man poke and pat her all he wanted. He liked patting her ass. She turned around and placed her tits at Frank's mouth. He squeezed her breasts together and licked them. No boner. When the music stopped, Frank got up and said, "Thank you." He was done. It was time to take Heather back to the dorm. She got dressed. Frank said, "We should do this again."

Heather replied, "I am free tomorrow." She was anxious for another payday. She found her Golden Goose.

Frank replied, "Let's wait a few days. I'll give you a call. It won't be long. You can stay out of those seedy bars."

Back in the dorm, Heather could not wait to get into bed. She wished they had a bathtub instead of a shower. She got under the covers and jammed her fingers inside her pussy and worked it to orgasm. She didn't care if Julie heard her or not.

Frank gave Heather a call back. She was now Frank's private dancer two to three times a week. She had progressed to the point of dancing less and just lying on top of Frank naked with him using her as a plaything. She was now letting him lick her pussy and ass until she orgasmed. Frank had his beautiful companion.

Part 4: Julie

Back in the dorm, Julie was fretting. Her life was falling apart. More places had banned her award-winning tits. "Those motherfucking Crystals, " she screamed. Plus, she got seen naked in Kalamazoo by loudmouth classmates who wanted a blowjob, not to tell. That wasn't going to happen. She would rather be outed as a stripper. She was proud of her body, almost as much as Heather was of her body, minus the mirror. Julie tried to appeal to Heather, "Does Frank maybe want two of us? I really need the work."

Heather said, "I already asked him. He only liked blondes." This was a half-truth. Frank did say he liked blondes but never flat-out rejected the idea.

Julie pleaded. Well, in that case, come with me to East St. Louis. They are having an amateur strip night that pays $1,000. I could use your help. It is far enough out of town that no classmate would go."

"East St. Louis? No fucking way! You know what happens to girls like us down there? Heather responded while getting dressed for class.

"Please, please, pretty please. I will owe you." Julie continued.

"It is against my better judgment." Heather firmly replied.

"Protest noted. We leave Saturday."

Heather's session with Frank was on Friday, so she didn't have to cancel anything. Julie talked on the way there about putting on a faux lesbian show; just make it look real. Heather agreed but was apprehensive about it. What was the worst that could happen? Her pussy gets licked and fingered by her hot Asian roommate? Many live for such torture. Doing it in front of a crowd for the first time was a different story.

The place was rustic. A faint whiff of dried urine hung in the air. It wasn't any better outside. It had a decent-sized stage; it looked like it was a converted theater. There was a huge area for the droolers to stand and gawk. You couldn't see the people in the back; how were they going to see us?

The event was set up to be shorter than others. With the long stage and small catwalk, all 14 girls would strip at the same time. There was no one named Crystal at this place. There were three Jasmines. As expected, there were two white people in this whole place. Heather was one. Julie was the other one. Technically, Julie was Asian. Heather was one.

Heather wore her standard stripper outfit that she wore for Frank. The boys got to see pussy right away. Julie wore a light blue see-through slip and panties. You could see her huge tits and nipples through the sheer material as well as the dark patch of her bush. Her hairs could be seen protruding from the fabric's elastic. Julie did that on purpose.

Half of the other girls were deathly skinny and needing a fix. They had ugly bruises and gave $10 blowjobs. The other half were professional strippers. The guys must have seen them all naked a dozen times before. For the first time in her life, Heather felt both privileged and pity. The audience was too big and unruly for Julie to work it. Some of the aforesaid "skank" dancers were in the audience getting fingered for a dollar. Julie wouldn't go that far.

On stage things were different. The skanks were quickly naked, standing at the edge of the stage, spreading open their sagging pussies as if there was a gynecologist convention in town. Julie and Heather did just a token amount of dancing before they got naked. The crowd was polite enough to howl at their tits. Julie had a bottle of baby oil in the back of her elastic and proceeded to rub it on Heather's tits. Heather was caught off guard, but like a trooper, returned the favor. Other than her own, this was the first time Heather felt up another woman's tits. Julie felt up Heather's pussy for the crowd.

This was more than a faux lesbian act. They jiggled and played with each other's titties and pussies from different angles. Julie fell to her knees and began to munch on the lightly blond bush. They moved quickly into a 69 position on stage, eating each other out for all of East St. Louis. Heather was doing more faux eating, but Julie wasn't playing. Her tongue was all over Heather's clit and then deep inside her sump. The audience suspected Heather's shivers were real. Everyone had their cell phone cameras out. The stage manager moved their "act" out on the catwalk where the guys could get an up-close and personal look at the big tit pussy eaters.

Heather couldn't fake it anymore with guys' faces only inches from their snatches. She licked Julie's pussy and tasted her juices. Heather had cum in Julie's face several times. You could smell the pussy in the back of the room. A couple other girls paired off and tried the same thing. Their breasts were far smaller, and their pussies had ugly razor burns. The stage manager let them grope, lick, and finger each other for an extra 10 minutes after the show was supposed to end. Hitomi and Barbie would long be remembered in East St. Louis. Film at 11.

Julie counted the prize money on the way back. Heather told Julie to take it all since she had a regular gig. A gig she felt guilty about not sharing. They didn't talk about what happened on stage. Heather felt relaxed. You could have knocked her over with a feather. She was also now confused. She loved dick. Was she now bisexual? She really didn't enjoy eating Julie; she just went through the motions. This was the first time she tasted pussy juice that wasn't her own, off some guy's dick. She was not one of those girls who refused to suck a cock after it was inside of her.

Time went by. Now that Heather knew Julie was a lesbian, she attempted less to hide her nakedness while in the room. In fact, Heather wore fewer clothes than before, knowing someone as pretty as Julie admired her body. She fell back into her routine with Frank. She now wore her revealing stripper outfits to and from Frank's so Julie could see them. She was such a tease. Her 1,000-dollar sessions with Frank had evolved (or degenerated) into Heather lying naked on the table (moved back into the great room) with Frank playing with her nakedness. Sometimes she just sat with Frank and watched a movie while naked with his hand on her boob. Frank never got hard.

Naked in bed after an arousing but unsatisfying night with Frank, Heather's fingers were busy at work. Night after night, this drove Julie nucking futs. She quietly slipped out of bed, went over to Heather's active bed, and whipped off her covers.

"Need some help?"

Heather was caught off guard and froze. While she was stammering out a response, Julie went down on her pussy. "Tell me when you want me to stop."

Heather couldn't think of anything other than the fact that this girl really knows how to eat pussy.

She arched her back up and let out a moan as she came all over Julie, who lapped up all of it.

Heather caught her breath. "Okay, stop." She apologized for not reciprocating.

Heather explained she loved dick and was averse to eating pussy.

"That's okay, sweetie. I understand. There are other things we can both enjoy," Julie explained as she pulled out a double-ended dildo. "Next time."

Heather nodded in agreement. She had died and gone to heaven. She would get paid good money for lying around naked with a gentle older man and then have her pussy serviced by a hot Asian girl. She loved Julie's tongue. They became close. Julie and Heather would do their Kegel exercises together.

It felt a bit awkward going to Dr. Freud's morning class after being freshly eaten out by his daughter. It was like she knew something he didn't. Julie almost confided about her home situation and stopped short after mentioning her brother, the one with the "A" syndrome.

All was right with the Cosmic Order. Heather was thinking of changing her two-year degree into a five-year one. Nothing could go wrong.

There was an announcement: "Until further notice, the school is closed due to COVID. All students and faculty must leave."

"Shit-Fuck"