"Ummmm - is it noon already?" Anita's hand found the alarm clock on the nightstand next to her bed and switched it off. She turned over and lay on her back, stretching luxuriously.

Sunlight was streaming through the windows, brightly illuminating the white sheet that covered her nude body.

Her blonde hair was spread out on the pillow around her pretty face, a single strand lying across her lips. She brushed it aside as she yawned, smiling at what promised to be a fine day. As she lifted her arms above her head, the top of the sheet slid down, revealing the twin globes of her large, cream-white breasts, with their erect rosebud nipples. She swept the sheet to the side, and gazed approvingly down at her body. Anita was proud of her tempting figure, and took a sensual delight in it. Sighing contently, she closed her eyes and ran her hands languorously over her voluptuous curves: first cupping her full breasts and pinching her nipples gently (which brought forth an involuntary moan of pleasure), then moving down over her flat stomach to caress the graceful sweep of her hips, finally reaching between her parted legs to brush the inside of her thighs lightly, slowly drawing her fingertips up to tantalize the cleft of her girlish vulva, pouting under delicate silken wisps of fair hair. Unable to resist, she placed a fingertip at the top of her slit and rubbed gently in little circles, exciting the little nub of pleasure nestled inside. She was tempted to bring herself to orgasm, but resisted - a little tease was enough to start the day, and it filled her with a pleasant erotic glow.

Anita's body gave her pleasure, as it did to those men who were lucky enough to be her occasional lovers. It also gave her pleasure to think about the effect she had on the men who happened to cross her path during the day. She always tried to dress in ways that would provoke desire, and it amused her to think of the insistent erections she caused in all those aroused men, who couldn't wait to get home to masturbate to fantasies of her. She knew the effect she had on them, especially on the men who came to watch her strip at the club, where she would do her utmost to put them through torments of tantalizing sexual tease and frustrated desire.

She had a free day ahead of her, with nothing to do until

9:00 that evening, when she was due at the club. Classes were over at the University, and exams behind her (thank god!), and she was looking forward to a lazy summer. Her advisor had suggested she get started on her Master's thesis over the summer, but she'd decided against it - she'd had enough of libraries for awhile. And today - today would be a shopping day. She needed a new set of garters for the club, something that would go with the red bra and panties she liked to wear under her costumes. Most of her outfits were based on street-clothes that girls might actually wear, like school uniforms, or sweaters and jeans; but sometimes she liked something really slutty, just for variety. And she knew that her boyfriend John would appreciate seeing her modeling it for him, as well!

After a quick shower she selected a dress appropriate for the warm summer day, a lightweight sleeveless sundress, form-fitting above, and flaring out from her hips in pleats that flipped enticingly as she walked. She knew it would get a lot of attention at the mall.

She spotted him almost as soon as she entered the large shopping complex in the center of the city. She didn't know who he was, of course, but the lust and hunger showed clearly in his eyes as she walked by. She was an expert when it came to that look, oh yes.

Poor old Jake. He was a mall regular, one of the guys who hung out there when he wasn't working odd jobs, watching the girls who paraded up and down in their skimpy summer outfits. They drove him crazy, and he spent his days following them through the mall, hoping for glimpses up their skirts when they sat down on the benches, or staring at their firm, round asses, shifting from side to side in tight shorts as they walked in front of him. He loved how the air-conditioning often made their young nipples perk out enticingly, at least with the girls who didn't wear bras. Often he became so excited that he needed to relieve himself in a men's room stall, stroking himself to orgasm amidst the swirl of tantalizing images that flooded his mind.

Anita didn't have to look; she knew that he had started to follow her. She smiled to herself and headed for the escalator.

Jake felt the familiar surge between his legs when he saw her, a delicious blonde in a flimsy little dress: oh such beautiful big tits, that dress is so tight, look at how those tits are pushing and trying to get out, I wonder if I could see anything from the side through her sleeves, oh wow what a short skirt, her legs are so creamy, ohhhhhhh...

He saw her step onto the escalator going up, and he almost ran to get on behind her before anyone else had a chance to get in between. He stayed back three steps, where he was able to get a tantalizing look up her skirt from behind.

She was so beautiful, the dress clung to her shape from her neck down to her hips, then it got loose in light little folds, so thin he could almost see through it. Her legs, mmmm her legs, so long and firm! His eyes swept hungrily up and down, from the light sandals she wore, up her shapely calves, to the backs of her thighs almost high enough to see her panties. He imagined putting his hands on her hourglass hips, running them down the sides of her legs, then up to lift her skirt, revealing her enticing panties to him. He was aware of her scent, clean, honeysuckle fresh, with a mysterious hint of her womanhood.

He was filled with a longing that went beyond lust, he wanted to lie with her and caress her, he wanted to enter her gently, he wanted to see her smile...

Anita didn't know the finer texture of his thoughts, of course; she knew only the general erotic effect she was having on him, and she knew she was teasing him. And she liked that. It wasn't that she disliked men like him, or that she wanted to cause him pain. She felt sorry for him, in fact; but at the same time she knew how tremendously exciting it was to men like him to be tantalized and aroused like this, how much they loved it. She was, she felt, just giving him what he craved. And she was good at it.

After she had finished with her purchases she went to the food court for a late lunch. She got a salad and sat down, and was not at all surprised when moments afterwards saw

Jake take a seat a couple of tables away, where he had a good view of her from the side. She took a book from her bag and read while she ate her salad. When she had finished eating, she sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued to read. Every once in a while she would reach down to her lap and give her skirt an imperceptible tug, so that it gradually traveled higher up her thighs, displaying more flesh to Jake's eager eyes.

She turned slightly, so that now he was able to see a little between her crossed legs; and the skirt continued its upward progress.

Finally, she put the book down and looked down at her sandals. She uncrossed her legs, and lifted one to rest its heel on the edge of the chair seat, then pretended to adjust the straps of the sandal. As she did this, Jake was presented with an unimpeded view between her parted legs, and he gazed unbelievingly at the crotch of her tight, white cotton panties, so thin and stretched so tightly that shadows of what nestled within were clearly discernible.

After a few seconds, Anita got up and gathered her possessions. She walked straight towards Jake, who sat paralyzed and red-faced, and as she passed she looked at him and smiled - "Busted!" she whispered.

Jake sat transfixed, watching her flounce toward the exit.

Then he headed for the men's room.

When Anita returned home, hot and sweaty from the heat of the day, she decided to take a nice bath before it was time to go to the club. She put on a CD to listen to while she was soaking in the tub, the classical one that her Psych-

215 professor, John, had given her when they started going out. Her favorite cut was "Air on the G-String", by J.S.

Bach. She thought the title was hilarious, considering her part-time job, but she was always moved by the sweetness and longing she felt when she listened to it; it said things to her that words couldn't, it sometimes made her weep, but in a happy way. She'd never really listened to

"classical" music before. John hadn't been condescending when he gave it to her. It was simply music that she'd never heard before, and he thought that she would like it; he was right.

She put some nice-smelling bath salts in the water, and brought a glass of wine over to the tub. Letting her dress and panties fall to the floor, she lowered herself into the fragrant warmth, sighing with pleasure. The bath relaxed her, and she let her arms float at her sides, her breasts swelling up through a scented froth of bubbles. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the bliss of the music...

Her cell phone was on a chair by the bathtub, and it rang now. She frowned a bit at the interruption, and reached up to dry her hands on a towel, then took the phone. She looked at the number in the display, and smiled. A call on the 900 line had been transferred to her. Evidently, one of her "friends" was in need of her.

It had been very clever of Francois to start a 900-number phone service aimed at his club's clientele. Several of the girls, including Anita, had agreed to be available for calls a couple of days a week, calls from guys who had seen them dancing at the club. If a girl noticed a man who seemed particularly "moved" by her performance, when she left the stage she would smile and drop a card into his lap as she passed him. The card contained the girl's name and the number where she could be reached. The client was encouraged to call her and share his feelings about her performance. Fine print declared the $3.00 a minute calling charge, next to a silhouette of a voluptuous girl.

It cost Francois about $500 a month to maintain the line, which it usually took only a week of calls to cover. The girls got half of the take for the calls they worked.

Anita actually enjoyed these calls. She enjoyed the way she was able to manipulate the men who called her, to build on the craving they felt after watching her undress at the club. She enjoyed listening to them pant and groan while they masturbated to her tantalizing, little-girl voice; and she enjoyed the money the calls brought her at the end of the month!

Settling herself back in the bath, she clicked on the phone.

"Hi! This is Anita..."

"Uh, hi, this is Robert."

"Robert! Mmmmm, how are you, sweetie?"

Anita liked it when Robert called. Most of Anita's spring wardrobe had been paid for by Robert's calls.

"I've been thinking about you a lot, Robert - we had such a nice time the last time you called, didn't we? Did you like what we did?"

"Yes - I, I really liked it, a lot."

"You'll never guess where I am now, Robert. Would you believe I'm in the bathtub? I'm lying here completely naked while I'm talking to you. Listen..."

She splashed the water with her free hand and giggled.

"I'm taking a bubble bath. It feels sooooo good on my skin, so nice and slippery. I'm taking my hands and rubbing them all over me. Do you do that when you take a bath or a shower, Robert? Get all nice and slippery and rub your hands on yourself? I'll bet it feels good, doesn't it? It would be so nice if you were here with me - this could be your hand sliding all over my breasts..."

"God, that sounds so hot!"