Tracey looked over the bonnet of the Lansdowne Sprint as it sat on the podium at the Royal Annual Car Show. The gleaming bodywork reflected the many lights from around the hall where other companies had their latest products on display.
Her eyes slid over the fine lines of the bright red car following them down the length of the body, before lingering on the sumptuous pale leather interior of the open tourer. It was a magnificent machine, one to be proud of, and one to be seen in. She sighed for although she had worked for Lansdowne for ten years there was little hope of her ever owning one. The price tag was over five years salary for her, this was the nearest she would ever get. Unfortunately she was also heavily in debt from some bad market calls and needed every cent to pay them.
The company only made a hundred cars in a year, and it was renowned for its quality and image. There was only one other car that came even close, the Ripley Roadster. It was produced by a rival company who also only made a few cars a year. Their display stand was a little way away, but was just close enough for her to see how many dreamers and prospective buyers were viewing their latest offering.
She had wandered over there earlier and had to admit the latest roadster was certainly a good looking vehicle; with its rich blue paintwork and tan brown leather upholstery. They would certainly interest a few more customers than last year, when their Ripley Rocket failed to attract the buyers the owners had hoped for. This year they had pulled out all the stops. Tracey could see from the men ogling this model, which might even have it a little bit over their one.
The two company's incomes depended very heavily on this car show to attract the main body of buyers for the year, and if they could attract more viewers then they would certainly make more sales. There had always been a fierce competition between the two.
As she stood watching the ebb and flow of the crowds, she thought how lucky she was to be working as the second sales rep for the company; her only problem was her boss Mr. Chambers who had been the main rep for donkey's years. Mr. Chambers was, if the truth be known, a real chauvinist. He thought women should stay in the home, preferably near the bed to be called at a moments notice. He definitely considered cars the domain of men, and let everyone know this. It had been a real struggle working her way up though the company from a receptionist to where she was now. It was only because Mr. Green, the owner, had an eye for the ladies that she had been given the job as sales rep. Although she hated to admit it her slim build with D cup breasts had helped to get his interest, especially when she wore a low cut top.
"Looks like the Ripley car is attracting quite a bit of interest," a voice interrupted her revelry, and she turned to face Mr. Chambers who stood with his dumpy secretary Hilda. Tracey and Hilda had never hit it off, she thought Tracey as a brainless blonde bimbo and Tracey thought she was a fat creep, of course they never said these things, but it was not hard to see their animosity.
"Yes," she replied, "it is better looking car than their last effort."
"Hm, we'll just have to work twice as hard then,." he said as he too looked across the crowded showroom to where there was a group of onlookers around their competitor's car. There were very few around their offering even though it was at least as good, which did seem odd.
"What's happening, why there are so many punters over there? Go and have a look Hilda" he said.
Dutifully his dumpy secretary wandered through the crowd as Tracey moved a step away from Mr. Chambers who had taken a step closer.
"They must have something happening to draw the crowd."
Tracey continued to stand watching the crowds as they flowed through the various stands. The smell and the sound of the show had always excited her. There was a vibrancy to it that was hard to explain. She turned to talk to a middle aged man who had picked up one of their brochures. They conversed for a short while as he flicked through the publication, before smiling and saying that he would think about it.
Tracey turned back to where Mr. Chambers was now conversing with his secretary, who had returned from her reconnoiter.
"The bastards, they're using a model in t-shirt and shorts to attract the men over there," he said as if he had regretted not thinking of doing the same.
"That's not fair," she said as she looked down at their car with the few men still looking at it. "Some people will stoop to anything to get a sale."
"The trouble is it seems to be working, Tracey."
"Well what can we do to attract them over here?" Tracey enquired, "Are we going to stoop to the same foul tricks?"
"I suppose we've got no choice, we'll have to get a model as well, two can play at that game," he said with feeling.
"But where are we going to get a model now at such short notice?" Tracey replied, thinking he must be crazy.
"I don't know but if we don't find one soon we could be losing out customers even as we stand here." He said crossly.
"I know, Mr. Chambers!" his secretary piped up.
"What!" he said, with a hint of irritation.
"She can do it," she said pointing at Tracey.
"Me! You must be mad, I'm not a model." She said with disdain.
"No, you're not," Mr. Chambers smiled, "still she's got a point, I mean you're not bad looking and keep yourself fit. Look I don't think you have any choice, if we are to compete with their low tricks."
"But I'm a sales rep, not some dolly girl."
"Look Tracey, I don't think we have much option, and I'm sure Mr. Green would approve." Tracey was sure Mr. Green would approve, he liked any good looking girl, especially one dressed in shorts and T-shirt.
"Well," Tracey said hesitantly, "I suppose I could sit in the car."
"I think we need a bit more than that Tracey to catch their eye." He thought for a minute, "I know, what you need is a swimsuit!"
"What, modeling, here, in a swim suit, with all these men around, no way!" "What's the problem, it only the same as being at the beach."
"There's a world of difference. Anyway I don't have a swim suit handy, I hardly carry one around with me do I?"
"I know," piped up Hilda hopping about like an agitated goat, "there's a surf shop around the corner, I'm sure they have lots of suits."
"I suppose I could go and have a look then," Tracey said reluctantly feeling the situation was getting out of control.
"No, you're needed here, Hilda can go and get one, just tell her your size and she'll pick one out. Just make sure it is white to contrast with the car."
Against her better judgment Tracey knew she had little choice, so she wrote down her size and handed it to Hilda, with instructions to get a nice one. She thought Hilda had a strange glint in her eye as she turned to walk away.
"Thank goodness you were here, or we would have been lost." Mr. Chambers smiled. "Don't you feel good making these minor sacrifices for the company?" Tracey wasn't quite so sure, how did she behave wearing only a swim suit? She began to feel nervous as the minutes passed.
"What we also need is a photographer on one of the local rags; I know I'll phone Brian he has a day off today." Mr. Chambers said as he took out his mobile and started to dial.
Tracey cringed when she heard those words, as Brian was Mr. Chamber's fat son. He was a real pain and several times had asked Tracey to go out on a date. He failed to take the hint that she was not interested, as he gave her the creeps. However she had to be careful as he was her boss's son, so she tried to be nice even though her flesh crawled inside.
The crowds surged backwards and forwards as the minutes ticked away.
After what seemed like hours, although it was really only about 15 minutes, Hilda returned with a plastic bag with "SurfGear" printed on the side.
"Ah there you are, well done Hilda, now Tracey there's a staff loo just over there," he pointed with his finger. "Go over there and change. Hilda will go with you, put your stuff in the bag and she'll look after it for you. Go along quickly now."
Before she knew it Mr. Chambers patted her on the bottom and shooed her off to get changed. Tracey with Hilda in tow made her way through the crowds feeling more and more nervous. She knew she had little choice and so plucked up her nerve and entered the toilet. Thankfully it was empty, so after choosing a cubicle, she closed the door leaving Hilda outside as she didn't wish to get undressed in front of her. The place had seen better days and Tracey looked around for somewhere to hang her clothes, unfortunately there was no hook and even the loo had no seat.
"There are no hooks in here Hilda."
"That's ok; take your clothes off and pass them over the door to me; I'll then pass you the suit."
Oh well, here goes thought Tracey, removing her jacket before passing it over the top of the door, then came her skirt, and slip. These were duly given over to Hilda. She then rolled her tights down her legs and after hopping about a bit in the small space finally got them off and by keeping at least one shoe on avoided touching the filthy floor. She stood up in her bra and panties for a moment before unclasping the bra.
"Come along Tracey, hurry up, Mr. Chambers is waiting." Tracey reluctantly unhooked her bra before passing it to Hilda, then slipped her panties off to stand naked save for her high heels. Hilda duly received the panties and passed the small parcel with the swim suit over the door to Tracey.
"I'll go now in case I'm needed, don't be long or Mr. Chambers will be annoyed," Hilda said as Tracey heard the outer door open and then close.
Tracey opened the bag... Mr. Chambers looked at his watch for the tenth time, where was that silly woman, I mean how long does it take to put on a swim suit. Hilda had returned at least 5 minutes ago.
"Go and get her Hilda. No, I've a better idea, stay here I'll go and fetch her," he said angrily, "stupid woman." He trudged through the crowd before pushing the door open a bit and shouting, "Tracey are you in there? Come on out this minute or there will be trouble." There was a brief pause, the door opened and Tracey appeared. All of Tracey's worst fears were confirmed, when Mr. Chamber's face lit up as he saw her standing in the skimpy costume trying to cover herself.
"My don't you look great Tracey, just what we need; now put those hands down, you just look stupid, it is a swim suit after all." Tracey unwillingly complied revealing herself to his leering eyes. It was certainly a nice suit, that's if you were looking at it. Were they legally allowed to sell costumes like this? The top consisted of two small triangles of white cloth with thin strings holding them together. The only part of Tracey's breasts that you couldn't see was her nipples and the jury was out on that one. Her nipples made bumps as they responded to the cool air. Mr. Chambers smile got even wider as his eyes wandered down to her crutch where a third tiny triangle of cloth barely a hands width attempted with only moderate success to hide her pubes.
"Turn around," he commanded as he spun her around by her elbow.
Tracey turned, revealing there were only three triangles of cloth, her back was just crossed with narrow strings holding them together, one of which disappeared between the bare cheeks of her arse.
