(Author's notes: Very special thanks to LunaRosa for the perceptive editing. This is a better story because of her efforts.
This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18 years of age or older.)
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All I can say is, thank goodness I'm not a coffee fiend. Otherwise, we probably would have missed a great opportunity.
I'm Caitlin, and my friends Jessica, Alyssa, and Danielle and I were on a road trip. The four of us are practically sisters -- our parents have been friends since they went to college together. We were all born within a few months of each other, and although we live in different cities, our families have vacationed together since we were three years old. Now we were attending college together.
Visually, we're peas from the same pod. We're all size 8, occasionally 6 or 10, depending on the brand. Ally is the tallest, probably 5' 9, and Jessi is the shortest, about 5' 4. The biggest difference is, I'm a redhead, Dani is a honey blonde, Ally is a platinum blonde, and Jessi is a brunette. Her hair looks black until she's out in bright sun, then it reveals rich, dark mahogany highlights. We must look pretty good, since all the guys at the campus pool seem to lose their place in their conversations when we walk by.
None of us were interested in sororities, and none of us had a full-time guy, so we spent a weekend every month or so exploring the sights and towns within a few hours of the college. That particular spring weekend, we had reservations at an inexpensive hotel about a fifteen minute walk from the ocean.
Our Friday classes were done by 11:00, so we were on the road by mid-afternoon. By dusk, we had our stuff unloaded into our hotel room. We found a wonderful diner, had a great dinner, explored the town a little, and took a moonlight stroll on the beach, splashing in the surf.
Even our shared hotel room was a strain on our college-girl budgets, so there would be no sleeping in -- we could sleep in for free back at the dorm. The morning was magnificent: bright sun, 78 degrees, nice easy breeze rolling off the water. By 9 am we had eaten a light breakfast, and were settled on the beach, catching rays. In our tiny bikinis, every time we'd get up to cool off in the water, I couldn't help but notice that all the guys snapped their heads around to get an eyeful, and a second, and a third.
By mid-afternoon, we'd had enough sun for the day. We headed back to the room to drop off our stuff so we could explore the town a little more thoroughly. We'd shower and change into dinner attire -- shorts and halter tops instead of bikinis -- later.
We left the hotel, and Alyssa immediately spotted a coffee shop. Even this late in the day, nothing was going to stop her, Jessica, and Danielle from getting their daily fix. I guess I was the only one who wasn't fueling her academic efforts with caffeine, so I passed. I had seen a sign in a window that intrigued me, so as the others made a bee-line for coffee, I said, "When you guys are done, meet me in the bikini shop half a block back, I'm going to look around."
I wasn't sure I had read the sign correctly, but when I got back to the shop, there it was: "Girls, Ask About Free Bikini Tops." Cool! Free is good.
I pushed the door open, ringing a bell attached to it -- old school! An older guy at the counter barely looked up from his paper. I browsed a bit, and they had some seriously cute pieces. Strictly speaking, they didn't sell bikinis there -- the tops and bottoms hung on individual hangers, and were priced and sold separately. Each fixture had two racks, an upper holding rows of tops, and a lower with bottoms. Similar pieces were grouped together, by style and color, so if you saw a top you liked, there was a choice of compatible bottoms right below it.
The important point was, there were some great pieces there. I approached the counter, interrupting the guy's reading. "Yes?"
"How do I get a free bikini top?"
"Simple. You give me the one you have on, you can have a free one."
I think I succeeded in not looking startled. "So it's a trade?"
"No, when you put the new one on, I give yours back. You keep them both."
"Okay, thanks."
He went back to his paper. He probably got asked that a lot. Most girls would be unwilling to show their breasts in public, so I'm sure it usually went no further.
Usually, that is. There's nothing usual about me and my friends. Awhile back, we learned that we all get a special thrill out of being naked in public. I can't really explain it, other than to say that I find it seriously stimulating taking my clothes off in places where it's not the norm. Jessica, Alyssa, and Danielle do as well. I found myself grinning -- they had no idea what was awaiting them after coffee. I was ecstatic to have a head start.
There was only one other customer in the shop, a very attractive blonde. She had her boyfriend (possibly her husband -- neither of them wore a ring, but they may have taken them off for the beach) with her. He looked rather bored, but was being a good sport and not complaining.
I pondered whether the price for the "free" top was too extreme -- for about two seconds -- and, my face, chest, and pussy glowing in anticipation, reached behind my back. I unclasped my top and lifted it over my head. Feeling like a pressure cooker with a stuck valve that was going to blow at any minute, I walked my top over to the counter, and handed it to the clerk. He looked surprised, and began to sputter some sort of objection.
"Yes?" I asked.
He picked up my top, placed it under the counter, and said, "Nothing, nothing," and went back to his paper.
The other girl's boyfriend noticed me before she did. His eyes caressed my breasts, which are large B-cups, or smallish C-cups, I guess depending on whether you think the bra-cup is half-empty or half-full. They're not the world's biggest, but if I do say so myself, they're quite nice -- full, round, firm. Above my slender waist and (almost) flat tummy, I've been told they're "delightful."
I could practically feel his eyes on me, and I saw him suppressing a grin. He turned his head away from me -- he didn't want his lady to see him ogling me, but he followed my every move out of the corners of his eyes. A moment later, she noticed me, and quickly whipped her gaze over to him. Apparently he was watching me subtly enough not to be in serious trouble, so she returned to her browsing.
My nipples responded to being out in the open by poking out almost painfully. I mean, I may be quick to pounce on an opportunity to get naked in public, but that doesn't mean I'm completely at ease with it. Quite the opposite, actually. It's a thrill, but it's also a challenge -- it takes a lot of encouragement from my inner voice. At the end of the day, however, I've ended up feeling regret more often from the times I've chickened out and missed an opportunity, than the times I've shown my naughty bits to the world.
I started out in the middle of the store, where I had seen some really cute tops, but after a few minutes, having only one pair of eyes on me wasn't very exciting. The store had a large front window onto the sidewalk, surrounded by a sampling of the store's goods, that was where I wanted to be.
When I got there, four cute guys, also college age, were walking past the shop. One of them noticed me, and it barely took a nano-second for the rumor of the topless girl in the window to spread to the other three. As if they were a single eight-footed creature, they skidded to a stop. Needless to say, all eight eyes were on me.
They stared at me through the window for a moment, then casually, nonchalantly, entered the shop, like that was where they had been headed the whole time.
The shopkeeper looked up from his paper. "No loitering, guys. If you're here to make a purchase, welcome. Otherwise, customers only." Like explaining the rules for the free top, he seemed to have made that speech about a gazillion times -- in a shop that encouraged girls to get half-naked, I'm sure he often had to run off gawkers.
The boys ambled over to the only guys' rack in the store, which had some expensive board shorts, and a selection of rude (but expensive) t-shirts -- "Free Moustache Rides," that sort of thing.
The bell on the door rang, and I glanced over, expecting to see Ally, Dani, and Jessi, and not wanting to miss the priceless looks on their faces when they saw me. It wasn't them, however, it was a group of three girls. By their clothes, bling, shoes, and condescending attitudes, they were from a completely different part of town. Unfortunately, their efforts to look significantly younger than they actually were made them look rather coarse -- their over-processed hair and surgical enhancements weren't very attractive. They began browsing the racks and didn't see me for a minute. Then one of them noticed, made a sour face, and said, "Eww, I don't think this is our kind of store" to her friends.
I tried to explain, "No, it's for a free bikini top," but they weren't interested in hearing.
As they exited, I heard one of them say, "Whatever, I mean, how much could a bikini top cost?"
"It's not the money, lard-ass," I thought. Out on the sidewalk, they corralled their boyfriends, who must have been parking the Hummer or the Bentley, and herded them away from the premises. Aah, I got it: shield the rich dudes from any distraction.
By now the attractive blonde had made her selection, paid, and was leading her guy out of the store. He smiled, and gave me a small nod of encouragement. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.
The four guys had each selected t-shirts, and having stalled as long as possible, finally had to pay. They slowly ambled out the door, turned and went back up the sidewalk toward where they came from, but that was just to cruise past the window again. A moment later, they made a u-turn and passed the store a final time, going in their original direction. I gave them a wave. Two of them looked away, as if they had been 'busted,' one of them smiled, and the fourth one smiled and waved back.
I began to see why the shop would do something as financially reckless as give away bikini tops -- that's four t-shirts they definitely wouldn't have sold if I hadn't been here, tits out, to lure them in. My business professor would be proud of me for recognizing that the store's profit margin was probably much higher on t-shirts than on bikinis, so even with zero revenue from the top I was going to get, the store was dollars ahead in both sales and profit.
I resumed browsing. The bell over the door rang, and this time it was my friends. I paused and looked their way, wanting to savor every nuance of their reactions to my state of dress.
They didn't react at all. Completely neutral, they dispersed into the racks of bikinis, checking out the swimwear. Ally said, "Cait, sorry for the delay, there was a line at the coffee shop."
None of them flinched, blinked, double-took, or said a word about my titties hanging out. I was sure they had glanced at me, and they couldn't have missed noticing that I was topless. Dani said, "Ooh, Jessi, check this one out, you'd look great in it."
I was getting seriously irritated. I mean, I'm one tiny piece of cloth away from being buck-ass naked, and they can't even notice? I put my hands on my hips and glared at them, giving them what Jessi calls "the Dad look," and they all paused, and finally burst out laughing.
They gave each other high fives, congratulating themselves on how they "got me good." Whatever!
