Joanie of Zurich

After my European trip I too returned home to my parents' house. I gave my mother and my father big hugs, and held them a long time, not letting them go. A few days later I took my mother out dancing in the nearby big city, and got her drunk.

She told me some amazing things about her times with my Dad when they were young. A lot of what Klaus said was true. I had erased all digital traces of it, however, and there was no longer any evidence against them, anywhere. I discovered Klaus' tricks, and had used them to delete even the police files on my parents.

I did not have Philip's political pull, so I used my hacking skills extensively.

I got a minimum wage summer job, which seemed a silly thing to do with over $200,000 in the bank, but I wanted to keep busy and earn money, instead of fucking for it. I got a job at a carwash, drying the cars with special towels as they came out of the carwash machine. Other girls worked there too, and my high school friend Susie was one of them.

Mondays were the slowest days for the carwash. This gave me an idea. I proposed to the manager that the girls wear bathing suits on Mondays: Bikinis, if the girls were willing. He liked the idea, and so did the girls.

There was a bit of competition among us girls as to who could wear the skimpiest bikini.

I chose a bikini that was especially brief. Another girl asked where I got it, and the next Monday she wore a similar one. Soon we all did. Men were getting even clean cars washed and business really boomed, but only on Mondays. All the men customers had fun ogling our bodies, and we had fun letting them ogle.

After a few Mondays of this, I took it up a notch, and wore bikini bottoms, but a halter-top with no bra. I had organized this so that the other girls joined me. I had chosen one where the fabric became somewhat transparent when wet. So had Susie. It is easy to get wet "accidentally" at a carwash.

We all got wet. At one point we even playfully pointed hoses at each other to ensure we were good and wet. The tops kept drying quickly, since it was a very hot summer day, so we had fun repeating getting ourselves wet, ostensibly to cool off.

Our boobs were visible to various extents through our wet tops. My boobs were almost totally visible. The male customers went crazy. I recognized some assholes from the past, such as my friend Susie's older brother Adam, and the manager of the shoe store at the mall, Mr. Ebersmith. I had worked at the shoe store one winter vacation and had been manipulated into giving Mr. Ebersmith a blowjob.

Susie was a little embarrassed to have her older brother Adam see her boobs through her wet top, but after the revenge orgy I had organized, when everyone had seen Susie naked and she had even fucked her own brother, I knew she could handle it.

Those were bad memories, but they seemed long ago, and I enjoyed teasing those men who were my personal assholes, showing off to them what they could not have. They could never have any part of me. I also warned my co-workers about them. Most of the time we all stayed dry when their cars came though the carwash. But there were some mistakes.

One day when we got off work at the carwash, I asked Susie to join me for a coffee – I needed some advice. Susie knew about Mike from our revenge orgy I organized, but she was surprised to learn about Philip.

Susie told me, frankly and brutally, she thought both men were using me. She could not believe I would have anything to do with Philip after what happened in Paris, when he farmed me out to a gangbang in order to win clients.

"Joanie, he does not love you," she said of Philip. "He does not even respect you. He is just using you." Then she had an epiphany. "You always talk about having sex in the hotel when you go to New York to see Philip. Have you never seen where he lives?" she asked.

I had not realized it until that moment. I told her no, I never had. "Well then, maybe it would be good to find out what he's hiding. My guess: A wife, maybe a kid or two."

This hit me like a thunderbolt. And if Philip were married, his cousin Mike must have known of course. After all, it was because of Mike that I first met Philip when he needed a girlfriend.

And why did Philip need a girlfriend? Probably because his wife would not fuck his boss for him to get a promotion. He probably did not want even to ask her. Using me was putting it mildly! If this were true, it would devastate me; especially after all I had done for that son of a bitch.

There was going to be hell to pay, but I had to do it carefully. But it would be done. Susie was a good friend. I thanked her profusely for her wisdom.

I found a nice boy, Jake, and he dated me the rest of the summer. His car went through the carwash a lot. He did not get to fuck me, but he certainly did enjoy me in every other way known to men. We had a good time.

Jake knew I had a weakness for exhibitionism, and he enjoyed exploiting it. He liked to arrange for me to have "wardrobe malfunctions." These were surprises for me. One time downtown, where there was a small pedestrian mall, we were walking hand in hand.

Jake pulled my hand into an alley and told me to remove my bra. "Right now? Here?" I said with alarm in my voice.

"Yes. Do it now," he said.

I managed to unhook my bra and slip it off under my blouse. He then pulled me to him and kissed me, fondling my boobs through my blouse. While we were kissing he surreptitiously unbuttoned the third and fourth buttons of my blouse, so that only the second button was holding it together. (I never button the top button.)

I knew he had done this, of course, but played along and pretended I was unaware. I was curious what his plan was, how he was going to use these unbuttoned buttons in order to expose me to others.

I found out quickly. After our make-out session when we were in front of a group of stoned college age boys, he pulled me sharply to the side, ostensibly to see something, and managed to rip off the one remaining button in the process.

My boobs were revealed to the entire group of boys, who were very surprised and all smiles. Jake quickly tried to cover up my boobs with his hands, but of course intentionally made things worse, making my blouse fall off my shoulders while trying to protect my modesty.

I yelled at him to leave me alone, and I was now topless, exposed to everyone, and had to reach down to the ground to fetch my blouse and cover myself up, which of course I did.

Enjoying the exhibitionism, I acted clumsy and in my rush to pick up my blouse, I dropped it. This was intentional of course, but I did a good job of making it look like I too was stoned, or maybe drunk, and therefore clumsy.

One of the college boys grabbed it, picked it up, and offered it to me. All this prolonged my being topless. I thanked him and slowly put it on, buttoning the buttons slowly and tantalizingly from the bottom up. This maximized the time my boobs were on display. Still, after all that happened in Zurich, and Paris before it, this was nothing much.

But I was not in those surreal contexts, and just then, in my hometown, it seemed like a big deal to me. Jake and the teenage boys laughed at my distress. They did not have the presence of mind to snap a picture, thank goodness. One boy told me I had nice boobs. How am I supposed to respond to that? Tell him thank you?

I did notice the boys had erections; their pants were tenting. I smiled at them.

Jake made up for it later by eating me out in a deserted part of the town park. That was fun. The risk of discovery heightened the eroticism for me.

I was ready to go back to college when the summer ended. I was sue that Mike would try to get me to tell him the details of what happened on the yacht in Lake Zurich. He did not have to know about what happened in Paris. He would have to take me out to lots of nice places, and buy me lots of expensive drinks to get the full story.

As I would get increasingly drunk the information would dribble out, and afterwards we would have great sex. I would enjoy him until I was ready to dump him. After Zurich, I knew the two of us had no future. That was my plan, anyway.

The one thing I was careful to do was to take Sarah to our local bank, and we each opened an account and deposited $225,000. Nobody but us needed to know about that. And nobody did. I told her we had to declare the money as income on our taxes. It would be gambling income.

I took some finance classes at college and learned how to invest the money. Sarah trusted me also to manage her money, and five years later we each had close to $400,000. Nobody ever learned about our money. We liked it that way.