A Friendly Competition Ch. 01

I knew I had gotten at least a couple fantastic shots in there, so it was time to take off the panties and go fully nude. I pulled my thong down just a little bit around my upper-thighs. The camera had unfettered access to my pink pussy, as well as the very large triangle of red hair above it (I had maintained a bush ever since high school just in case someone questioned if I was a natural redhead).

The fabric of my thong still clung to my pussy lips from the sweat, creating a wonderful shot. I realized that it wasn't just sweat. I had gotten pretty wet from thinking about sex and slowly stripping down. God, I was horny.

I removed my panties and now was standing in my birthday suit. I took a bunch more photos in various positions, pressed up against the window, on all fours, legs spread, etc. I flipped through my image album. A lot of fluff, but some pretty good photos along the way too. I gained a new appreciation for Instagram models and how hard it was to take sexy selfies. I normally never took this many nudes or ones of such a high quality.

After deleting many blurry or just unsatisfactory photos, I was still left with a very large file. I emailed it over to Rachel to make it easier.

L: hey rae, just sent you a little gift.

I put my tank top and thong back on, but not the bra. I wasn't in the mood.

She responded a minute later.

R: cool. whittling down your portfolio now. just waiting on stace.

L: hey you're gonna blur out our eyes or something, right? to make sure it never comes back to haunt us.

R: no, but i'm uploading it to a porn site that's only viewable in Malaysia, so unless you have family or friends there, you'll be fine.

L: how the fuck do you know how to do that?

R: i took intro to computer science last year. duh. oh and also my brother's a computer genius and i told him to do it for me.

L: hey wtf? i thought they weren't gonna be shared!

R: trust me, they won't be. the agreement was he wouldn't talk and so he'd get to keep the photos to jerk off to.

L: seriously? you couldn't have just paid him or something?

I wasn't really upset because I trusted Rachel and her brother was a nice guy, but I still wanted to be a little bit careful. I didn't want a whole Ivy league frat house having my nudes. Admittedly, if I were actually at the school they probably would all have seen me naked in person anyway.

R: money i pay him is overhead, which means more money i charge you. besides he'll get more use out of the photos than the money.

L: fair enough, I guess. are they uploaded?

R: no, i'm still waiting for Stacy to send me hers.

Speak of the devil.

S: what're you two fucking yammering on about?

L: nothing. did you send them?

S: fuck yeah. i looked amazing as always.

L: we'll let the views determine that.

S: rae, are they uploaded?

R: jesus christ woman, you sent them to me thirty fucking seconds ago. learn some fucking patience.

S: alright, alright.

There was silence on all ends as Stacy and I waited for a few minutes.

R: alright, both sets have been narrowed down and uploaded. you can't actually see them since neither of you live in malaysia (as far as i'm aware) but i will periodically send you their viewing stats. the one hour starts now. all you two have to do is sit back and relax. or keep your ass clenched, i don't really fucking care.

I flipped back to the chat with just Stacy.

L: game on, bitch. you know i'm taking this one.

S: fuck you. keep living in your fantasyland, sweetheart. i, on the other hand, will go to the beach, confident in the knowledge that i have already won.

I wish I could go to the beach. Maybe I could Uber there. No, then I'd have to put on pants, or a bikini at least. I was too lazy to do that, so I sat like a lump on my couch.

There was a legitimately interesting show on about some staircase murder in North Carolina, but I only half-heartedly paid attention. Rachel texted out updates every fifteen minutes regarding the view-count. I started off leading by a huge margin, which slimmed a little, but in the end, I still came out on top by a comfortable margin of over a thousand views.

Stacy remained silent throughout the whole hour, presumably wallowing in self-pity following her predictable defeat. At least that's how I chose to view it.

R: congratulations, lindsay, you are the winner of round 1. you get 1 point and now lead the competition 1-0. if either of you would like to challenge the validity of the results, please speak up.

R: stacy, anything?

S: no, lindsay won fair and square. let's move on to the next one.

R: alright, while you two were off doing whatever the fuck, i was working on the next challenge. so do either of you two remember julianna? she took econ with us two years ago and poly-sci last year.

L: i vaguely remember her. isn't she the one with a drug dealer dad?

R: allegedly. anyway she knows me pretty well, and her father runs a strip club as a money laundering business.

L: don't know how he could do much laundering at a strip club. what clothing is he gonna use?

S: 8/10. solid effort.

R: anyway, tonight is apparently amateurs' night, open to all the daring ladies of the public. this includes both of you. the winner of this task is whoever manages to collect the most money in tips after one session. you will dance one right after the other to minimize audience discrepancy. all clear?

L: uhh, i don't think either of us have ever stripped before. we're gonna make fools of ourselves.

R: pretend you're doing a strip tease for some preppy fuckface only this time it's in a fire station.

S: what time?

R: 10:00. it'll be at least an hour for both of you with traffic, so you'd better hurry if you want to get dolled up.

It was 7:00 and the sun was already setting. The day had flown by much faster than the painfully sluggish morning had suggested.

S: fucknuggets! i just sat down at a pub. i'll never make it back to my apartment and over in time.

L: just go straight from the bar.

S: but i'm not dressed for it.

L: you're in a bikini, right?

S: oh, yeah. i had forgotten about that.

L: a load of good that BA did you.

S: just be quiet. rae, can you give me the name of the club?

R: sending the link over now.

Rachel sent a link to the club's website. I browsed through. It didn't look like a super upscale strip club, but thankfully not too tremendously seedy as many in Miami are, a perfect middle ground. Goldilocks would have been very much at home.

R: oh and since I forgot to mention it earlier, whichever girl isn't performing is expected to video their partner's performance so I have confirmation of completion. We don't want any cheating now.

L: oh god, i don't need anybody watching the embarrassment that would be me trying to dance. but i guess that's alright.

R: ten pm. be there on time.

I went to my closet to look for the clothes I should wear. I figured I would want to be seductive and sultry while not bearing everything. The art was in the tease, after all.

I settled on stern businesswoman attire. I picked out a white sleeveless button-up blouse, a beige blazer and the matching skirt, which as my shortest suit skirt, only came to about mid-thigh. A pair of four-inch black heels would be on my feet. I was looking professional, but not like I was going to a funeral.

I debated for about five minutes between thigh-highs or stockings and a garter before ultimately settling on a black pair of the former. For my lingerie, I chose a black lace push-up bra which lifted my already-firm and perky boobs up more. I was planning on wearing a matching pair of panties, but decided not to. Maybe I could have some teasing fun while still in the skirt.

With my outfit picked out, I showered, moisturized my skin, and shaved my armpits, legs, and crotch area. I kept a large bush above my pussy, but everything else below the neck was hairless.

Next came my hair. I had been blessed with naturally wavy, but not frizzy, hair, and only straightened it a little. Again, I came to an ultimatum between bun and ponytail. More professors I knew wore buns, so my decision was made. I put my hair up almost on top of my head in a high bun, and made it as neat as possible.

My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten. I popped some leftovers in the microwave and wolfed them down. I had another hour and change before I had to go.

I took the time to look up the best techniques for stripping and various pieces of advice. My usual striptease routine involved take my clothes off slowly and do a hand-bra, and that was about it.

The internet is amazing, and after about forty-five minutes of practice, I honestly felt pretty good about myself. I was a cheerleader until 17, so I remained quite limber and flexible, which definitely helped. Maybe I wouldn't be an embarrassment. I would probably be better than Stacy at least, even though she used to do gymnastics. She couldn't do any of this at dinner.

With my confidence boosted, I put on my makeup, opting for a toned-down look and minimal focus on the eyes. I did put on bright red lipstick, as slutty as I could find. I wanted my full lips to really pop.

My outfit was already laid out on the bed, and I put it all on. A rush of adrenaline ran through my body as I rolled up my thigh-highs and put on my skirt without panties. I hadn't done this in a while. Tonight would be fun.

I practiced a few moves again, making sure I could pull everything off in my heels. The skirt stretched a lot and its length allowed it to ride up, so it wouldn't be an issue, and luckily the heels were short enough to still be wearable and had an ankle strap.

I was out of my apartment and in an Uber with fifteen minutes to spare. The traffic wasn't as bad as I thought and I was at the club thirty minutes early.

From the outside at least, it didn't look too bad. It wasn't in the hood so I wasn't actively concerned for my safety. Starting off well.

I entered into the club and made my way to a bouncer with the sign-up sheet. I signed myself up for the strip night and filled out the small questionnaire and forms, cementing to myself that I was going to do it. There was a bit of a kerfuffle as he checked my ID. The idiot misread and thought I was 13 and not 23. I felt like screaming out at him, "What 13 year old has a pair of DD tits like the ones you've been ogling this whole time?!" but I restrained myself.

With plenty of time still left to spare, I went to the bar. A shot of vodka and two beers went down the hatch, trying to calm my nerves, which worked very well. I was watching the usual strippers work their routine, admiring their form and picking up dome tricks, when my phone buzzed.

R: I didn't tell you about the songs, did I?

L: no...

R: stace, you listening?

S: yep, omw. should be there shortly.

R: good. so you should each get two songs to dance to. for a twist, I'm having the other girl pick what songs you're stripping to, so lindsay you'll be picking stacy's songs and vice-versa. because i don't want someone choosing two fucking bach songs, you'll have to ok them with me first.

L: :( i was gonna do pachelbel's cannon and ride of the valkyries. rae, you've ruined everything.

R: think twice. because i'm nice, you can have one slightly humorous song, but the first one has to be sexy and dance-able. and the second still has to have an actual beat, so no classical music. both of you text them to me in private and i'll let you know.

I immediately knew which songs I wanted Stacy to have to dance to. I texted Rachel in a separate conversation, and was given her stamp of approval on both. I conveyed the information to the DJ. This would be fun.

Stacy showed up at five till. She signed up and filled out the waivers and came over to me at the bar. She was most certainly not in her bikini. In place was a long sleeve orange crop top that tied off in the front well above her belly-button, skin-tight blue jeans, an absolutely adorable bowtie headband, and five-inch wedges. She looked stunning, like a Hollywood diva.

"What happened to the bikini?" I asked.

"Oh, well, I decided I wouldn't look good in just a bikini and pull-over dress, so I went shopping. I had to really hurry, but I think I look good. One appletini please," she gave her order to the bartender. "Don't you think so?"

Stacy twirled around, showing off her body. The leering eyes of the men in the club confirmed her assessment, and I told her as such.

"Gentlemen and fine ladies, as I'm sure you know, tonight is amateur night, meaning all of the beautiful women here will have the opportunity to show off their wonderful bodies for you," a voice over the loudspeaker boomed. "Please welcome to the stage first, the lovely Paige Turner."

A middle-aged woman, maybe 50, worked her way on stage as a country song began playing.

"And so it begins," I said to Stacy. "I'm going first by the way."

"How do you know?"

"Because I told them to put you right after me. I don't know when they'll be calling me, but you'd better go and tell the DJ the songs you chose for me when it gets to my turn."

"Ugh, alright." Stacy got up from the bar and her drink. A minute later she was back.

"A little chit chat tells me you're up next. There are only like five women who are doing it so..."

"Oh, that's much sooner than I had expected." The first woman's second song had just begun, a slow early-2000s song that sounded vaguely familiar. I wouldn't be more than two minutes away.

We watched the woman, now fully naked, flop around like a fish out of water. I knew for certain I could do better than that. The song wound down and came to a finish. I grabbed Stacy's appletini and finished it the last little bit for her.

"Ready?" she asked, obviously amused.

"As ever."

I began walking to the stage as my name was called.

"And now please welcome the insatiable Miss Amber Valentine. You don't want to get on her bad side."

Stacy already had her phone out, videoing me walking up to the stage.

The song she had selected started playing. I immediately recognized it as "Buttons" by The Pussycat Dolls from the middle-eastern theme. Actually a pretty good song, especially considering the buttons on my blouse.

The stage was phallus-shaped, with the pole right at the base of what would be the shaft. The stage projected out into the audience where customers sat on either side, allowing the performer to get right up close to them, or hang back on the pole.

I stepped up onto the back of the stage, the balls, and suddenly had dozens of eyes on me. It was a little bit of a deer in the headlight moments, but the alcohol had calmed my nerves. I brazenly walked up and down the length of the long stage, pretending it was a mini-catwalk. I didn't fall, so I immediately started considering my potential as a runway model.

As the first chorus came on, I grabbed the pole. I spun myself around a few times, giving everybody a 360 degree view of my body and outfit. Facing out, I pressed my back against the pole and dropped into below a squat before quickly standing back up. When I was down with my knees apart, my skirt rode up slightly and if you were sitting at the right angle, you would probably have gotten a dim view of my hairy slit.

I did the move a few times, which was a huge strain on my legs, but the brief flashes of my pussy was rewarded with a few cheers.

I slid my blouse half-way down my arms before pulling it back up, again doing it a few times to the beat of the music. Eventually the blazer dropped, and the chorus reprise began.

As the singer described her desire to have her buttons loosened up, I did the very same thing. I undid the top few buttons on my blouse, exposing a good amount of my cleavage. Bills were already being thrown out onto the stage.

I identified the guy who seemed to be the best tipper, close to the base of the stage. I dropped to all fours and crawled over right up to him so we were nearly face-to-face. I proceeded to undo a few more buttons, showing off my lace bra. I cupped my boobs through the fabric, prompting a cheer and a few more bills thrown.

I moved on, continuing to crawl down the stage. Another man threw a collection of bills towards me. I worked my way right up to him and the woman sitting next to him. He was trying to say something, but I couldn't hear him over the thunderous bass. I finished unbuttoning my blouse and let it hang open. I undid the pin holding my bun up, and let me long red hair fall down around my shoulders, of course shaking my head to make it all the more dramatic.

The man reached out and stuffed another bill into the middle of my bra. I needed something just a little bit more to set me apart though. An idea came into my head and before I had the chance to think it through, I was already doing it.

I leaned over off the stage slightly so my head was literally in the audience and delivered a sensual open-mouth kiss to his wife or girlfriend.

To my surprise, the woman wrapped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me in tighter. We french-kissed for a solid ten or fifteen seconds before she let me go with a huge smile on her face. A collection of ones rained from the man's hands, obviously satisfied.

The song only had a little bit left, and I had planned to be completely topless by the end, so I had to hurry up. I crawled down the rest of the stage to the man at the very end of the projection. He had been less enthusiastic, so hopefully I could engage him.

My hands slid behind my back as I approached him and I unclasped my sexy bra. I pulled my arms out and his eyebrows rose as my big tits were put fully on display for him. I tilted up and leaned into him, letting my boobs rest a few inches from his face. i gave them a squeeze and a shake for him.

Much to my satisfaction, he fished out a dollar bill and held it out. I grabbed it between my teeth and winked at him.

I stood up and walked back down to the pole, letting all the patrons admire my bouncing breasts. More whoops and hollers came from the mouths of men.

I got to the pole and placed my hands on it before bending over at the waist, as if I were being fucked in doggy standing up. As expected my skirt rode up heavily, and my pussy was bared for all to see.

As the song was finishing, I had one last thing planned to end my routine. I dropped my hands to the floor, letting myself look between my spread-apart legs at the upside-down crowd. I took a deep breath, and pushed with my arms while using my core to pull my legs up off the ground.

Much to my happiness, my feet found the pole. I wrapped my ankles around it and held on for dear life as I successfully completed a handstand. I hadn't tried one in years, but I pulled one off at home against the fridge right before and summoned the courage to do it again. And I had nailed it.

My skirt was pulled down by gravity over my stomach, in the process totally exposing my big red bush and pink pussy. An ear-to-ear smile adorned my face as the audience collectively applauded and cheered my final pose. The final notes of the song ended and I dropped my legs back down to the floor, looking like a natural. I couldn't make out Stacy's face, but I knew she would have to be impressed.

The next song started. This would be the joke one. I didn't recognize it at first, but after ten seconds it became apparent that Stacy had chosen "Sandstorm" by Darude for me. Not actually a bad song to dance to, although very up-tempo.