Natalie's Back

(FORWARD: This is my second submission to Literotica. It's about 16,000 words when completed, will feature public nudity, female, and a public sex scene. I hope you enjoy it like I do. Votes and comments are appreciated, but please try to offer comments and criticism as if we were sitting down together, face to face in a public place. Thanks.)

It was the first time she had been back in her hometown in 8 years, and Natalie Cramer had more energy than she ever expected, an electricity in her system that defied the jet lag and the hours of anxiety she had felt when trying to get to sleep the night before. After a short assignment in the morning, she had the day free to get to the airport and jet back to Lampton, Pennsylvania, in hopes of catching dinner with her friend, Louise. She hadn't seen Louise in five years, when she had talked her friend into coming out to Los Angeles to see how she was living, then in only modest success. It had been almost two years since she had talked to Louise, at least before her friend found her again on Facebook and they had picked up where they left off. Dinner would be really exciting—at least as exciting as anything ever got in her hometown.

As she waited at the bar in the Blue Moon, she felt a little strange to be in such a familiar place and seeing no one she recognized. She wondered if Calvin Maines still owned the place or if he had sold it or moved on. She had first come to the restaurant when she was 5 years old, and they had eaten there just about every month since, right until she moved to California. Whenever she talked with Mom on the phone she would hear about the big events, who died, who got pregnant, who cheated on whom, but little things like whether Cal still owned the Blue Moon or not were never reported—she supposed if she found out tonight she would end up calling Mom, who now lived in Orlando, and update her for a change.

Finally, a half-hour late, Lou came into the restaurant—and walked right past her. It wasn't that she hadn't looked toward the bar, she searched the bar for her, but kept walking all the same. Natalie ran a hand through her hair and went to the main room of the restaurant, tapped her friend on the shoulder, and beamed her a smile when she turned around.

Lou's mouth was open, her eyes looking her up and down, and she still didn't seem assured it was her old high school friend. Tired of the anticipation, Natalie threw her arms wide and wrapped them around Lou.

"Oh, god, Nat... what happened to your hair? Look at you!"

"Yeah, I keep it kind of short these days." Back in her last year of school her hair had reached halfway down her back, sometimes braided, sometimes hanging free, and it had been a very pale peroxide-blonde color, before she stopped dyeing it and let it retain its midnight black color as a short bob these days—too many blondes out in L.A., black seemed to make her stand out more.

"And your glasses are gone."

"I finally found a pair of contacts that didn't hurt," Natalie said, smiling. It probably wasn't just those things, she thought; her clothes had become a little more stylish, baring her shoulders like her current purple blouse, and her bra actually produced cleavage, as opposed to the flattening misadventure her high school bras had been. L.A. had given her skin a good color, and who could say, maybe she had a lot more confidence since her success had found her.

"Yeah. Pretty," Lou told her, smiling. "I never noticed your eyes were so blue."

"Well, I can't take any credit for that."

They sat down together and mulled over the menu for a long time, to the server's irritation, getting distracted by quick questions and answers. Lou hadn't changed much at all, she was still an intimidating, big-eyed, large-chested blonde, just as she had been in high school. Back then Natalie had done everything she could to be like Lou, the fun girl that everyone talked about, including stuffing her bra and coloring her hair. No one would have guessed that Natalie would find success as a model and Lou would turn around and head back home in defeat. Of course, Natalie wasn't about to bring that up—it had worked out for both of them, she believed, she had found life in L.A. to her liking, and Lou had gotten married and started talking about a family.

"Oh, shit. I didn't know you had gotten divorced from Kyle." Three or four questions about how Lou was doing after their meal arrived finally brought out that surprise. The last time Nat and Lou had been talking, the couple had been going to counseling, things were starting to work for them again. Natalie knew that Lou had suffered a miscarriage, but it didn't seem to dissuade them both from trying again. "He seemed so nice. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was boring." Lou cleared her throat, and it was funny how easy it was to read her even all these years later. There was a secret she was keeping, and Natalie asked her to tell her more, with that tone that said she already knew what she was hiding. Rolling her eyes while she chewed her food, Lou swallowed and said, "Okay, it wasn't entirely his fault... I did cheat on him."

"Whoa! You? That's so..."

She nodded, and then Lou went on, "I know. It was wrong. But it wasn't just that, there were other things going on. Like, he was having this email relationship with another girl from the bank, this kind of emotional affair—he says it wasn't physical, but who knows. And before I found out about that, I was sensing he wasn't as attracted to me as before... our sex life was getting so dull..."

"No, please, tell me everything," Natalie said with a smile.

"Well, you've never been married, you've probably never had these problems." Not true, Natalie told her, she had sustained a three-year relationship with a musician that had become tedious by the end, she could relate. "Exactly. I mean, I took belly-dancing classes, strip-for-your-man classes, all kinds of things, just to make him interested. We tried role-playing, I bought books by the dozens. Finally, I found out about his email girlfriend, I got tired of trying. I was still friends with Jed from the football team, so—"

"You are fucking kidding me," laughed Natalie, then apologized for finding it funny. "I'm sorry, but Jed? We used to do an impression of that guy behind his back. You said he cut his hair with a weed-wacker."

"Maybe so, but he's a nice guy," Lou said. She checked her watch, the third time she had done so since sitting down at the table, and then she went on, "It wasn't like I wanted to marry him. I did it to feel desirable again. Or maybe just to hurt Kyle, who knows what goes on in this head of mine..."

Staring down at her half-finished grilled chicken salad, which paled against the way she remembered it tasting, Natalie said, "I never thought I'd see the day when Louise Kelly didn't feel desirable."

"Well... those days are gone, along with my ex-husband," she said with a smirk. "Talk about me... I never thought I'd see the day when meek Miss Cramer was a swimsuit model."

"I'm not a swimsuit model. Those were just a couple of pictures where I happened—"

"I've got pictures of you in a swimsuit on my cell phone, don't deny it."

Natalie's face had flushed red, and she kept shaking her head. "I do magazines, circulars. Not fashion magazines, you know, but catalogues and ads. That's it. You asked for something recent and I sent you a couple of the swimsuit shots I did. I added them to my new portfolio, so I thought... you know."

"What else do you do? Like J. Crew stuff?"

She was reluctant to say, but she nodded. "Sweaters. Jeans, a lot of jeans. Occasionally... you know... underwear..."

"Lingerie! Oh my god, you do lingerie... why not just do a centerfold?"

Quietly, Natalie chewed her food, waiting for a man at the nearest table to look away, and when he finally did, she whispered, "It's actually easier to get paid to do the internet these days. Centerfolds are going the way of landline telephones."

"No shit... have you done internet porn?" Natalie was quick to say she hadn't, but the way Lou stared at her, she could tell there was more to the story.

"I did a couple of photographs for a friend's project in a human anatomy study college class." As Lou was quick to laugh, she had to explain it fast. "They were topless only. Full body shots, but I was wearing a thong. They were a private thing, just for exhibition in his class, then he destroyed them... well, all but a couple he saved for himself."

"Must have been a good friend."

"Not that good," she said, then she laughed as Lou's eyes met hers. The server brought them the bill when Lou signaled him, then she checked her watch again. "That's like the hundredth time you've checked the time."

"Sorry, don't take offense. I told you I might have to work tonight, and I do. I hate to bail out on you. I need to get there early because a girl backed out on me and I'm trying to find someone at the last minute. It totally sucks."

"Ouch. Nothing I can do, right?" Lou looked up at her, smiled thinly, then shook her head.

"I know you've got a lot of stuff you want to do. And you've got to be tired from the flight—"

"I'm not tired at all," said Natalie, and when she thought about her plans for the evening, it was almost depressing. "I had planned to hang out with you tonight. Basically—no pressure. The only other thing I wanted to do was drive by the school. I don't know anyone else in town, or you know, I haven't seen them in forever. Can't knock on Tom Davenport's door and say, 'Hey, remember me? Of course you don't, but I had the craziest crush on you—"

"You really don't know anyone else? I guess your parents have gone to the great ice floe in the South..."

"Har har. Nice. You know I was never that popular anyway. I'll probably be the only one at the reunion tomorrow that needs to wear a nametag."

Lou smiled wider, then shook her head. "Oh, they definitely won't recognize you, darling. I didn't. Talking about my crappy life has made me feel better, though, so thank you, I'm just sorry I have to..." She continued to stare at Natalie, who was scraping together the last of her salad into a pile in the bowl. "You could come down and hang out with me. At work. But it will be a bit of a trip, I can promise you that."

"Local banking has gotten wild, has it?" she said, then hoped it hadn't sounded bitchy, she didn't mean it that way. Lou kept staring at her, teeth clenched, holding something back. "Did you quit the bank? You were doing so well there..."

"Kyle was doing well there—especially with that slut Joan Miller," Lou sighed. "I did leave the bank. I couldn't stand it, being humiliated on a daily basis by those two. But I was bored with it as well. I told you I took all those classes, well... I guess they sparked some entertainer vibe in me. I was always outgoing in high school, so..."

"My god, don't tell me you became a belly dancer?"

"I kind of do... bachelor parties." Natalie wished she hadn't taken a drink of wine at that moment, she nearly had to spit it back into the glass. She finished coughing before she could speak again.

"I'm sorry... do you... strip? Lou, do you strip for money now?"

"Don't judge me, hon. Please. It was hard enough telling my mother."

"Oh, god, your mother? She knows?" Natalie couldn't stop laughing, and though Lou mirrored her smile, it was also obvious she feared her old friend was looking down on her. "I'm sorry. Not sorry you're a stripper, that's your... I shouldn't laugh. It's no less crazy than what I do."

"You think I'm a skank."

"No, no, Lou... well, you know, I always thought you were a skank." They both laughed, and it seemed to ease the tension. "I'm kidding. But you know you were always more out there than I was. I thought I finally had a leg up on you, living out in L.A. while you were back here with the husband and the house and the regular job... but no, you had to one up me again. That's really out there. I can't believe it."

"Yeah, that's what I do. I get booked enough that I only have to work a couple of times a month and I'm usually pretty good for money," she said. Natalie found that impressive, even working as a professional model required a significant number of hours a week. "So I'm working tonight. That's what I mean."

"Pretty important to make the date then, I guess. Can't call in sick. Do strippers ever call in sick? Oh, sorry, I probably should call you an 'exotic dancer' or something..."

Lou waved the sentiment away, checking her phone. "I don't feel better or worse with a made-up title. I actually love my job. I love it more than banking. Once in a while some drunk asshole will make my night hell, but I suppose even that I like better than catching a cold from some prick who wiped his snot on a five dollar bill. Damn, no replies." She looked at Natalie again, who was getting out a credit card to settle the bill. "Do you want to come or not? I understand if it's too weird for you."

Too weird? It felt like high school again, Louise telling her that she might not want to come to a party because the kids there would be smoking pot. Natalie crossed her arms, then asked, "Are women allowed at that kind of thing? You know what I mean, not the dancers..."

"Anybody over eighteen is welcome... anybody who tips well is particularly welcome." Lou began to text someone on her phone, not looking across the table, but waiting for Nat's answer. "You coming?"

"I guess so. If you're alright with it. How would you feel about me sticking a hundred in your G-string?"

"I might just go home with you," said Lou, and then she gathered the cash from her purse to pay for her meal. She didn't see the connection with Natalie's joke, but it made her friend smile, thinking that all of those bills had probably once been in the sweaty palms of some leering middle-aged men.

* * * * * *

With Natalie's rental car following Lou's SUV, they drove back to her friend's apartment so she could get ready. Natalie had a million questions once they got there, but she decided to ask as few as possible, not wanting to seem hung up on her friend's new career or pretty sheltered from such a wild life. She wondered if they had stayed together in L.A. what Lou would have been doing these days, if she would have found success as a model or if it were just something indefinable, a kind of odd talent that Nat had, some luck of the draw—maybe Lou would have blossomed into a stripper out there as well. Possibly even taken Natalie along with her.

Lying back on Lou's queen-sized bed, watching her friend change into crazy thongs and skimpy bras, Natalie felt only a week or two removed from high school, instead of ten years.

"I can't believe we've been talking for a month now and you never said... 'Oh, hey, by the way... I strip naked for men.' It might have been an interesting conversation."

"I said stuff about work... 'Work is hell,' 'I had a bad day at work today'... you know," groaned Lou, taking off another bikini top and throwing it into a pile. She went to find another in a dresser drawer; Natalie admired her breasts, each almost two handfuls, at least that was how she had always considered them, and the aureolas of her nipples seemed like the size of silver dollars. "I was scared you would think I had turned into a freak. It was such fun talking to you again it was always like, you know, I could tell you later. I just didn't get around to it. I was definitely going to tell you while you were out here."

"When I couldn't run away," Natalie said, and to her amusement, Lou said almost the same thing at the same time. "Babe, you should know me by now... I said it the first time you messaged me again. Yesterday we were friends, today we're friends, and a hundred years from now, we'll be friends."

Lou tied another top and went back to her full-length mirror. "You're sweet. But I've got my doubts about long-term friendships after everything that happened with Kyle."

She stopped again and checked her phone, shook her head in frustration, and drew a long, tortured breath before tossing it in disgust back onto the bed.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Lou said, exhaled loudly, and then told the fuller truth. "There's supposed to be two of us. I've got this gig tonight, it's a regular thing with the sales team from the motorcycle dealership. I write it down in the phone, 'Two girls,' and it's my job to make sure two girls are there, or it's my fault. I went with Tara over Becky this time, now Becky's pissed and won't return my texts, and that bitch Tara... I'm just laying this all on you, aren't I?" Natalie shrugged and said it was interesting to hear about stripper problems. "Wow, thanks. No, Tara promised me she would be on time and there and everything, and while I'm waiting for you to call from the airport, she sends me a text that she can't make it tonight, her son has a fever."

"That sucks. Sorry." Natalie took a long breath and stood up, bending over slightly to look in the dresser that contained her friend's "work clothes."

She glanced up and saw Lou looking at her.

"What's your bra size?"

"Uh... thirty-two C... whuh...?" Natalie looked up and had a feeling of dread. "No."

"I didn't say anything."

"Then I'm just preemptively telling you no," said Natalie, feeling her heart pound. She felt way too much like she was back in high school, bearing the pressure of Louise trying to convince her to wear a thong with her low-rise jeans, saying no all the time and sensing she was about to cave in.

"Okay. Calm down. I'm just in a spot, just thinking out loud." She removed her yellow thong and threw it aside, and Natalie found herself staring at the very narrow brown hairs on her nude friend's mound. She smiled when their eyes met again. "I really don't care if you stare, hon. Everyone else pays me, but you can look for free. I remember when you used to prance around in your underwear for me."

"I never...!"

"I firmly believe that half of the women in the world fantasize about being strippers at some point in their lives," Lou said, putting on a red thong and pulling it tight. She grew a smile and said, "The other half are just dead below the neck."

"Oh, let me guess which category I fall into. You know, I'm sexually active, I have a great fantasy life, I feel good about my body and I feel attractive... maybe I just don't feel like taking my clothes off for men is good for me."

"I didn't say anything," said Lou. She dug through her drawer for another top, then she looked up at Natalie and continued, "Nobody's saying you would be doing it for a fantasy or the money. You could just do it to help a friend out."

"I suggest you get back on the phone and get one of your stripper friends to show up," warned Natalie, crossing her arms. "I'll be there throwing singles at you, but that's as far as I'm going."

* * * * * *

On the drive to the Charbol Hotel, Natalie had a sick feeling in her stomach. She had said no, she had argued until she had a headache and made it clear her answer was no, and yet she had gone so far as to try on a couple of outfits of Lou's that looked good on her. She had tried on stripper outfits. That was how these things with Lou started, even ten years later she knew the feeling. No matter how the answer might be no in her head, Lou was already sure she had gotten a yes. Well, it might be a fight, but she would make it clear she wasn't changing her mind.

She stayed in the car while Lou got out, wearing her denim skirt and tank top, carrying her gym bag, and went into the hotel to see if her party was there yet. Natalie leaned on her palm, staring out the window at the cars lined up in the parking lot. A dad in white shorts and a polo shirt was yelling at his kids as they kept touching cars that obviously belonged to strangers. Another family in a small town, the kind of life that Natalie always feared she would accidentally fall backwards into. Ten years probably just shot by for that guy, then he woke up with kids—no wife was around, maybe she was in the hotel or car, maybe she had bailed out already, leaving him with weekends with the kids. Depressing normalcy.