Waking up at the crack of Dawn was never easy.
The mountain air chilly but refreshing helped. Especially when your attic apartment had no furnace to warm up by. Merely a space heater on the floor. One that Stacy Puma rarely used for fear of catching her happy home on fire. Sleeping under multiple blankets including a large Beaver fur comforter that was passed down from her Great Grandmother when she passed away. It gave her History meaning. Her Apache heritage meant a lot to her. Yet, the modern ways of the Whiteman consumed her. She could live without possessions but it was nice to have. The fur was so warm and cozy Stacy hated getting out of bed.
She knew she had too. Committed to her three mile run each morning. Sometimes accompanied by her brother Griffin. She never knew when he would join her though. Being a local Police Officer kept him busy. Between that and his girlfriend Bree. For the most part Stacy was on her own.
It was a rough life though. Her Apartment above her brothers garage was tiny but heartfelt. Decorated with tribal memories. Photos on the wall of her family in better times. She loved her parents but they were rarely around as she grew up. Alcoholics both they spent most of their off time drunk and high. She managed to avoid that curse. However she liked the occasional cigarette to relax by. With no real income she chose to make a single pack last two weeks. Yesterday she brought home $300. That helped her habit. A carton bought would last her a month or more. Food essential but again she rarely ate much anyway. Growing up with parents that blew their hard earned cash on themselves taught her to survive without. That favor helped her maintain her body weight. She loved her body.
A nude sleeper she crawls from bed finally and stretches. Opening up her only window let the fresh air revive her. She would smoke her morning cigarette. Her exhibitionist tendencies led her down a back staircase on the outside of the garage. Her brother had fashioned an outdoor shower for her. Water running from the house. A cold reminder of her less than thrilling life. Standing beneath a cold rain she shivered and closed her eyes. Cleansing her spirit was something she learned from her Great Grandfather. That and the shrill native cry of "HOLY SHIT!"
Washing away her past life she dried off and pinched her nipples good morning. She loved exciting herself. Griffin's house was too her left yet out of direct view of her shower. He had put up a curtain but the winds kept knocking it down. Finally she convinced him to let the world see. She loved her freedom. Although a Cop who could object to her indecent exposure he allowed it. He loved his baby sister. The one thing he didn't agree with was a wide open toilet. He build a wooden fence around it and gave it a roof in case of rain or snow. During the Winter he would allow her the use of the home he and Bree lived in. Sure she could use those facilities anytime she wanted. But, Stacy needed independence. Only during the cold months would she agree to shower in the house.
Within the proverbial Outhouse he built a basin. However it was a large bowl. She would have to fill her bowl from the shower to use to wash her hands or brush her teeth. A tiny mirror hung over the basin. As she brushed her teeth she motivated herself for her morning run. At least the cigarette taste was gone.
Stepping from her Outhouse Stacy smelled coffee. Turning to her left she found her source.
"Morning Streaker."
"Hey Bree. Griffin going running this morning?"
Her brothers girlfriend was a stunning redhead with lily white skin. Her long red hair curly and full. Brilliant green eyes sparkled at all times. Thin with long legs and a meager 32C set of tits. She had brought Stacy a mug of coffee freshly brewed.
"Not this time. He had to cover a late shift. He needed sleep. Coffee?"
"Thanks." Claiming the steaming mug she sipped then blew into it to cool the brew down.
"I'll never get used to your hatred of clothing."
"In time. I love my freedom. Besides we don't have any neighbors behind the property."
"Not behind. But, we do beside us. You do know "Kahane" watches you when he's home."
Kahane Bridges was an elder African American male. Discharged from the Army back in the 90's when he lost his legs due to a mortar attack in Afghanistan. He lived the quiet life resorting to tooling around in a wheelchair. He was harmless.
"If it gives him a thrill I'm all for it. He's a sweetheart." Stacy shrugs with a coy smile.
Bree merely shakes her head, "Anyway! What's on your agenda today? Job hunting?"
"Most likely. I've shot out a dozen online job applications in the last three days. Nobody wants me."
"You're beautiful. They need to see you in person. I never had faith in faceless applications."
"Right. I'll head into the city later and shake my booty. Just need to get my morning run in first. Thanks for the coffee."
"Any time. I'm off Dispatch today. Need a ride?"
Stacy offers a expression of deep thought while puckering her lips, "No. I plan on being out all day. Determination."
Shaking her head again Bree grins at her future Sister-in-law. She knew the girl well enough to see mischief in her eyes.
"Okay. Good luck."
"I'll need it."
Stacy heads back up the wooden stairwell and finishes her coffee. The mug left on her TV tray end table beside a beige loveseat. Going to her dresser she chooses what to wear. Deciding upon a pair of skin tight grey sport shorts that revealed her ass cheeks in all of their curvaceous freedom. They were so tight they creeped up inside her cheeks leaving a sweet shadow that would stop traffic for a better look. Swearing off panties she had a cameltoe that smiled hello to everyone. Loving her firm tummy she wore a matching grey tank style bra. It was made of t-shirt cotton material and held up by micro thin shoulder straps. Her chest was made to bounce. Firmness didn't bother her a bit. Let the girls dance. No pain no gain she thought.
Pink striped gym socks reached her kneecaps. Pink tennis shoes her final touch.
Ready to run she snatches up her cell tucks it in her shorts directly over her pubes. On vibrate if anyone would call her. The tightness of her shorts would keep it from falling out. Tiny IPod with earplugs inserted she chose her jams and headed down her staircase. Reaching the drive she looks up and down the street. No traffic much in this area of town outside of home owners. Heading East on the sidewalk she looks over to see old man Kahane sitting on his porch in his wheelchair. Waving on her way by she blew him a kiss to make his day. He loved to watch her shake her ass. That was one fine booty.
Rocking out to "Led Zeppelin's, Immigrant Song" she puckered her lips and worked up a healthy sweat. The neighborhood was middle class for the most part. Run down homes for sale everywhere she looked. Mostly a Mexican population mixed with Whites. Not so much Gangbanger's as wannabes. Regardless the Men loved her when she jogged by. Titties bobbing wildly. Nipples erect and pointing at them. Even without hearing them directly she knew damned well they expressed wolf calls and crude sexual comments. She shook her head seeing them act out fucking her from behind. On her way by she wiggled an index finger to behave. Her smirk letting them know differently.
She loved her solo runs. If Griffin was with her she would straighten up. She was fearless but respected her Brother. Never worried for her safety because he had taught her how to defend herself. Griffin was a third degree black belt. Even before his enlistment in the Military. She might not have been a black belt herself but she had a mean right hook.
Reaching a park with bike paths she switched directions and followed them. Other runners were out in force. Very friendly runners. Very expressive runners. Some would turn and jog backwards just to see her bare cheeks dancing on her way by. Others oncoming huffed their cheeks at her chest and offered a squeezing motion with extended hands. She stuck her tongue out and kept on going. To those she found cute she would reach in front of her and lift her bra to let them see her bouncing beauties as she went by. She was always met with happy faces. If she liked them enough she would pull her bra back into place the move her hands behind her to drag down her shorts for a full on moon. While leaving them behind to get off later.
Knowing her mile markers she stops to catch her breath and stretch. Touching her toes as Men ran by. Side to side. Arching her chest out for their viewing pleasure. In her mind every single one of these guys came out each day just to see her. She recognized almost every guy she came across. Teasing was so much fun.
In her stretching she feels her cell vibrate over her lower tummy. She shivered at the sensation so close to her clitoral area. Removing it she examines a text.
"That Xander dude."
Reading the text he writes, "Stopping by the Library today?"
Instead of texting she just calls him. Three rings he answers.
"Wassup X-Man?" She chuckles.
"Wow! I didn't expect an actual call. How's it going ApacheSlut?"
"Great. I'm getting in my morning run. Three miles every day."
He sounded impressed, "Haven't been jogging in over a year. Too busy with College. Sounds fun though. What are you wearing?" He had to ask.
"Don't start breathing heavy, Paleface." She giggles.
"And, she's racist. Go figure."
"Not really. I just like torturing guys."
"Saw that up close and personal. Tortured me pretty good."
"Oh yeah? Beat off after I left?"
"Hell yes. You complaining?"
"Your hand. Your time. Hope it was good for you."
"Good enough. You always so cocky?"
"24/7! Comes with the genes. Ever know an Apache to not be arrogant?" She hisses playfully.
"Guess I haven't met many Apaches. Especially hot ones."
"That's not a smoke signal you see in the sky. That's the steam coming off this sexy body of mine."
Laughter fills the airwaves.
"You never answered me. What are you wearing?"
She smirks noting a pair of guys jogging her way. A buddy system. They were checking her out with awe.
"Give me a minute I'll send a selfie."
She puts her cell on mute and sets up her cell cam. Waving at the two men she motions them over. They glanced at each other chuckling at unheard words. They joined her without looking too eager. They were though.
"Morning." One spoke.
"Can I ask a huge favor?" She sheepishly grins.
"Sure. What do you need?"
"This guy I'm talking to wants to know what I'm wearing. Could you take a few pictures of me?"
Both men peak their eyebrows and nod their consent.
"Great. My cell is on mute so he can't hear us. Take one of me posing. Ready?"
