Leopard Tale

Disclaimer: The following story contains sex scenes and rude words. It's fairly tame, and I'm pretty broad-minded, but the decency laws in most states would require it not be read by persons under 18. Also, if you're offended by adult themes, you should probably leave now.

More importantly, this tale features women presented as sexual objects. There is nothing wrong with this as they are only fictional characters. I urge readers, especially young males, to not regard real women in this way.

This work is © 2004 the author. Permission is granted to freely distribute, provided it is not altered in any way. It may not be posted to any website or included in any archive without the author's permission.

There is no Nicola. All characters are fictitious. The situations are made-up. This is only a fantasy, and any similarity to real persons, events & institutions is pure coincidence.

*****

Nicola stood on the sidewalk, peering excitedly through the front window of "Hot Surf", the trendiest beachwear shop on Rodeo Drive. She'd first perused Hot Surf on the very day she arrived in Hollywood, gawking through the window at the most beautiful bathing suit she'd ever laid eyes on. Hand-made from Nepalese silk and screen-printed with an exotic leopard-skin pattern, it was a supreme work of art from the maestro of bikini designers Antonio Barudi.

Like some hick tourist, the 20-year-old Aussie starlet had gaped longingly at that gorgeous little bikini, wishing she could afford to buy it.

Now, having received her first paycheck for her movie "Bikini Bandits", she could do just that.

With a triumphant toss of her chestnut-colored hair, Nicola strode in through the store's front door, luxuriating in the cool bite of air-conditioned environment on her lustrous skin.

"Excuse me," Nicola accosted a salesgirl in her charming, husky Australian accent. "I'd like to purchase that bikini." She pointed out her swimsuit, currently gracing the body of a plastic store mannikin.

The girl turned and looked down her nose at Nicola. "I'm sorry, *miss*," she practically hissed back. "That garment is not for sale."

"What?" cried Nicola, "but I want to buy it!"

The salesgirl gave Nicola the most condescending look, obviously relishing tormenting the gorgeous foreigner.

"Well, it's not for sale. I suggest you run along and do your shopping elsewhere. Kmart do a line in beachwear."

Nicola blanched. With perhaps one glaring exception, Americans had been very warm and friendly in welcoming her to Hollywood (especially the men!), and she wasn't used to being abused by some snooty little bitch.

"Is there someone else I can talk to," said Nicola through clenched teeth. "Someone with a brain, perhaps?"

The salesgirl narrowed her eyes to vicious slits. She opened her mouth to reply when someone cut her off.

"OK Daphne, I'll look after this customer."

Daphne shot Nicola a parting malicious glance then left.

"Sorry about that. I'm the owner, Sammy Fish. Now, my sweet, what can I do for you?"

The Aussie starlet cast her baby-blue eyes over the stranger. He was short, his head just about level with her boobs. He looked kinda greasy, and despite the air- conditioner being on, his gray-ish skin shone with a fresh slick of sweat.

His appearance wasn't helped by the awful polyester suit his bulging little body was crammed into. He looked like an up-ended couch in that thing. How could someone who dressed so badly own the hottest swimwear outlet in West Hollywood?

Still, Nicola had learned in this biz that looks could be deceptive. She flashed her winsome smile and offered him her hand. "I'm Nicola Baron, but my friends call me Knickers."

Mr. Fish's slimy hand grasped hers firmly and they shook, all the while his beady little eyes staring at Nicola's impressive 38-inch boobs barely tucked inside her tank-top.

"Ahhh," he murmured. "What a sexy accent. How enchanting to have my little bikini store visited by such a delectable Aussie tourist."

"Oh, I'm not a tourist," Nicola replied modestly. "I live in Hollywood now."

Mr. Fish's eyes lit up. "Really? I'll bet a beautiful young lady like yourself has a glamorous job here in Tinseltown. Actress? Model?"

Nicola smiled demurely from his praise. "Well, yes. I'm an actress and a model. And alot of other things besides. I guess you could call me a girl-for-hire."

He was practically drooling by now. Who could tell what sordid ideas were bubbling away under that bald little head? Nicola was a little too much taken by his charm to notice his leering.

"Anyway, Mr. Fish..."

"Please, call me Sammy."

"...Sammy, I really wanted to purchase this bathing suit. The cute little leopard-skin one. But that salesgirl said it wasn't for sale."

Sammy shook his head. "Alas, I'm afraid so. That bikini is not for sale."

Nicola's face crumbled into a appealingly crestfallen look. "Oh, damn! I really wanted to buy it. Please, Sammy, I'd do anything."

The magic words any gorgeous babe like Nicola could say to a man like Sammy Fish is "I'd do anything". The sweaty little man grinned broadly as he contemplated the possibilities.

"Well, my dear. Why don't we go into my office and discuss the matter?"

Nicola was brunette, not blonde. She saw perfectly well what was going on, what this man really wanted from her. But she'd been in Hollywood long enough to know how this game was played. All she had to do was be nice to him and she'd get what she wanted.

And Nicola could be very nice indeed.

"I'd love to," she replied coquettishly, slipping her bare arm around Sammy's expansive waist.

Beside himself with excitement, Sammy unsnapped the bikini from the mannikin (hoping that pretty soon he'd be doing the same to Nicola!) and led her up to his office.

It turned out to be a dingy little room tucked away back. Looking around at the cramped, dilapidated chamber, Nicola got the distinct impression that the glamour of Hot Surf was strictly a facade.

Sammy squeezed his bulk past a filing cabinet and flopped into his chair. Nicola looked around and noticed there was no other furniture in the room. With a shrug, she plonked her shapely bottom down on the edge of Sammy's desk. Nicola was only wearing a pair of very short shorts, and a glazed expression flickered across Sammy's face as she crossed her lean, tanned legs.

"How exciting," breathed the starlet, "to work in the world of fashion."

"Oh, I have many business interests- movies, television, glamour. I'm a real entrepreneur."

Nicola smiled quietly to herself. This could well be a contact worth cultivating. She dangled her bare leg over the edge of Sammy's desk, inches from his crotch. Her blue eyes fixed his with an angelic gaze of longing. "That sounds exciting. Now," she said, "about this swimsuit..."

"Well, Knickers, as Daphne said it's not for sale. However, tomorrow I'm holding a sort of fashion show, for potential investors. If you'd be willing to come along and model the bikini for us, you can take it home and keep it."

Nicola's eyes lit up. "Wow, thanks Sammy! Sure, I'll do it."

"Excellent!" Sammy cried, rubbing his oily palms together. "Now, if you wouldn't mind trying it on for just a moment..."

"What, now?"

Sammy shrugged. "We'll need to see how good it looks on you. Make sure you fill it out." He leaned toward her, the stripy little bathing suit dangling off his finger. His other hand gently rubbed against Nicola's leg.

"OK," Nicola replied. She took the prized bikini off Sammy's chubby digit and stood up. Obviously, there wasn't really anywhere for her try it on in private.

But that was the whole point.

"Um, you don't mind if I get changed in front of you, do you?"

Grinning from ear to ear, Sammy leaned backwards in his chair. "Of course not, my dear. You go right ahead and don't worry about me." The fat little impresario made himself very comfortable for the show.

"It's alright," said Nicola. She crossed her arms and grasped the bottom hem of her tank top. "I'm a professional model. I'm pretty used to guys seeing me with nothing on."

In a graceful move that Sammy suspected Nicola had done several times before, she lifted the tank-top over her head, baring her torso to him.

Sammy had seen many a half-naked starlet in his time as a Hollywood slime-ball, but watching Nicola take her top off was like nothing else he'd witnessed before. The way she did it, so utterly sexy, so aware of the effect of her nude body, and yet so casual as if she stripped in front of strange men all the time.

The Aussie babe had a spectacular rack. Truly amazing. Her boobs were a good size, more than just a handful, and any idiot could tell they were real. Nicola's tits showed no sign of sag whatsoever, jutting out before her proud and firm. She had no unsightly tan-lines across her bare chest, and Sammy genuinely believed that Australia was the topless-sunbathing capital of the world. Her nipples were deliciously pink, slightly erect as if they were auditioning for a part.

Tossing her tank-top aside, Nicola took a moment to fix her long, chestnut-colored hair, smoothing it down. The act of raising her arms caused her boobs to jiggle enticingly, and Sammy had to strenuously resist the urge to clamber over his desk and grab a handful.

"I like to be very free and open about my body," Nicola continued, as she slipped her hands into the waistband of her shorts. "I think that if a girl is really serious about making it in Hollywood, she shouldn't be shy about taking her clothes off."

Gliding her hands over her hips and down her legs, Nicola elegantly slid her shorts and panties off. The graceful model then stepped out of them, leaving her standing before the leering Sammy Fish wearing nothing but her high-heels and a charming smile.

It was amazing. Nicola was a total fox, and the more clothing she removed the hotter she looked. Her entire body was lacking in tan-lines, her skin a lustrous, honey-color all over. Nicola had also carefully groomed her pussy hair to a neat landing-strip, a sure sign that his girl got naked on a regular, professional basis.

With no sense of modesty whatsoever, Nicola began to dress. She took her time, as if letting Sammy know she was comfortable with her nudity and didn't mind him getting a good eyeful of her bare tits 'n' ass.

Nicola beamed with a sense of pride as she felt the soft material of the prized bathing suit rustle between her fingertips. It was such gorgeous material, so light and smooth to the touch. And so little of it! The pattern was a delicate blend of colors, artfully painted to resemble the beautiful pelt of a leopard. (Of course, it wasn't *real* leopard skin. Nicola would rather go naked than wear fur. Hell, Nicola would rather go naked than wear anything.)

She wrapped the bikini top around her uncovered wobbling boobs, clicking the clasp shut behind her back.

"Funny," said Sammy, watching closely. "Most girls I know start with the bottoms."

"I'm not like most girls," Nicola replied with a saucy twinkle in her eye. She stepped into the bottoms, sliding them up her legs, and snapping the elastic waist-band into place.

Nicola looked down to admire her fine form showcased by the designer swimsuit. For such an expensive garment it wasn't very big at all, just a few wispy bits of material strategically covering the naughtier parts of her anatomy. The top consisted of two small oval cups that only just covered her boobs, leaving a generous amount of her cleavage on display, held in place by a single strap that snapped together behind her back.

The g-string bottoms were even smaller, it was really just a triangle of leopard that just covered her pussy and left her ass almost completely bare except for a narrow strip of cloth in behind. Nicola tugged at this, trying to get it to cover more.

"No, no," said Sammy. He raised his bulk out of his chair and scrambled back around his desk toward Nicola. "It should be worn like this." He tugged on the back of Nicola's bikini bottoms, yanking them up so that turned into butt-floss and disappeared between Nicola's ass- cheeks.

"Oooh," Nicola snickered and gave an adorable wiggle of her backside. "That's naughty." Sammy's clammy hand slipped down and gently patted her on the backside. He enjoyed the sensation of her cool, smooth flesh beneath his fingers, and the casual, almost inconsequential excuse to get his hands on an intimate part of Nicola's delicious body.

"Well," she said, apparently ignoring his hand on her ass, "how do I look?"

Sammy took a step back so he could appraise the starlet in all her semi-naked body. She certainly filled out the minuscule bathing suit, the designer garment never looked better as it fit snugly over her delicious curves. Nicola posed for him, hands on hips, turning slowly so he could get a good look at her body from every angle.

Sammy couldn't believe his luck. The most beautiful girl in Hollywood had just walked into his shop, and was now posing for him in his own office wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini.

God, he loved this town.

As he licked in lips in anticipation, Sammy's eyes roamed over Nicola's figure. With her beautiful body and his perverted mind, they could make a fortune together! Not to mention the extreme pleasure he'd get from having the delectable little Aussie squirming under his naked, flabby bulk.

"Perfect," he murmured dreamily.

"Wow, thanks," Nicola replied with a blush that seemed to cover her entire body.

Grudgingly tearing his eyes away from the free T&A show, Sammy wrote an address down on a slip of paper. He wasn't the only one afflicted with reluctance, Nicola was loathe to give back her lovely new swimsuit, but at least she knew that after tomorrow it would be hers, and for free too.

Once again, without a hint of shyness, Nicola removed her clothes. The bikini bottoms slithered off down her legs to her ankle, at which point she raised her leg and grabbed them, inadvertently flashing Sammy a choice view of her cunt in the process. Then she unsnapped the top and deposited them both back on his desk.

"This is the studio where I'll be holding the investor's meeting. We'll hold the show at 2, so that they can all get a good look at the quality merchandise I sell here."

Nicola gave a muffled "uh-huh" as she wriggled back inside her tank-top. Then she hiked her shorts on, making herself decent again.

"It was nice to meet you, Sammy. I guess I'll be seeing more of you tomorrow," said Nicola, eagerly shaking Sammy's hand.

"You too," he replied. Sammy knew he'd be seeing alot more of Nicola tomorrow.

**********

Nicola's pretty face creased into a frown. She glanced down at the address Sammy had written down for her, and then back up to the building that loomed over her.

It just couldn't be the right place.

She'd expected a posh studio, but this was just a run- down old warehouse in some backwoods neighborhood of North Hollywood.

Nevertheless...

Nicola parked her red convertible out front and got out. Wearing 5-inch heels, the starlet carefully picked her way across the carpark made out of shattered concrete slabs, loose gravel and broken glass.

This adventure had started on glamorous Rodeo Drive and was rapidly going down hill. Still, at the end of it she'd have her beautiful new Antonio Barudi swimsuit. Imagine lounging by the pool at Casa del Paradiso in that little number! A certain dark-haired, small- breasted bitch-queen will be green with envy!

Nicola approached the side of the warehouse, encrusted with dirt and stinking of neglect, and knocked on a door.

"Hello? Is anybody there?"

There came a scuttling noise and the door opened a crack. A beady little eye peered out at her.

She'd recognize that pervvy peeper, even if she'd only seen it once before.

"Knickers!" cried Sammy, throwing open the door with a groan of its rusty hinges. "Glad you could find the place OK."

"Is this it?" Nicola asked. "This place looks like its condemned."

"These old places are very in these days," Sammy replied airily. "Re-develop old commercial districts, re-zone them as residential, rent them out to trendy young people, who then turn around and spend a fortune trying to give it that 'distressed' look. That's the fashion. Very hip, very happen', very now."

He grinned smugly and leaned against the doorframe, which promptly collapsed. Sammy pitched forward as a cloud of dust descended from above, settling on his bald pate and beige polyester jacket.

Nicola eyed him up ruefully, wondering just what sort of mischief this funny little man would get her in to.

Coughing, Sammy picked himself up, smiling as if nothing had happened. "Come on up to your dressingroom."

Nicola peered inside to see a rickety wooden staircase leading up into a dark and filthy loft. She spied a single bare lightbulb, not working, its innards caked with carbon.

Ever the gentleman, Sammy stepped aside and let Nicola go first. With the steps creaking alarmingly beneath her heels, Nicola made her way upstairs. Sammy followed, getting a good look at Nicola's ass as they climbed the stairs.

Nicola found that the dressingroom was a dank little hole thick with dust and the musty smell of dereliction. A make-up table had been set up, its frame of 100-watt lightbulbs only just keep the darkness at bay.

And on that table was a couple of strips of orangey- colored material. Nicola's eyes lit up.

"Wow, this is so exciting," she enthused, picking up her new bikini. "A real fashion show! When are the other girls getting here?"

"Well," Sammy replied, stroking his chin(s), "I thought you were just so totally hot in that bikini that I don't need anyone else."

Nicola smiled broadly at the compliment. "Oh, thanks," she gushed.

"Yup," Sammy continued, "just one look at you in that swimsuit and Hot Surf will be drowning in cash. There's a room full of classy sartorial connoisseurs out there who will go bananas when they see my stock on your body. " He rubbed his hands together in glee. "Now you get changed. We'll be holding the fashion show in the studio, just through the door down the end of that corridor. I'll go warm up the crowd, and when you hear me do your intro, you strut on in and show 'em your stuff."

"OK, Sammy," she replied enthusiastically. "I'll give it my best performance ever."

Chortling with glee, Sammy left the dressingroom. Nicola couldn't hold it in any longer, and as soon as he was gone she burst out laughing. Of course, she knew what was going on. She could be a bit naive sometimes, but she'd have to be totally ditzy not to see what was going on. 'Studio'. 'Fashion show'. 'Sartorial connoisseurs'. Puh-lease!

The funny thing is, if Sammy had come right out and asked Nicola what he really wanted her to do, she'd have said yes. Nicola was perfectly willing to use her assets to get what she wanted, be it a movie role, money, or a nifty new designer swimsuit. But this way had its advantages too.

It was, Nicola grinned to herself as she shucked off her clothes, a lot more fun!

**********

The studio Sammy had thrown together was a little less ramshackle than the dressingroom, but only just. He'd lined the walls with purple curtains to create the right ambience (and hide the filth). A tangle of lights hung from the ceiling. Six old office chairs were arranged in a half-circle. And for that final touch of class, a mini-bar, humming away in the corner.

A safety inspector's nightmare, but just right for holding a little 'fashion show'.

In a way, everything Sammy had said was on the level. Nicola would indeed be helping him raise some cash. Not enough to save Hot Surf, of course. He'd won the fancy beachwear shop in a poker game six weeks ago, and was way out of his depth running the damned thing. It was piling up debts faster than Michael Jackson bidding at a freak show auction, and there weren't nothing Sammy Fish could do to save that turkey.