It didn’t really matter what they were called as a group, since their clique broke up right after the streaking day.
Dara remained friends with Cindy but refused to speak to the others. She cut a number of classes and stayed home a lot during the last remaining days of the semester. At the graduation commencement ceremony, she was conspicuously absent. Hildy heard that Dara decided to take some time off from studies and joined the Peace Corps for a year-long stint in the Amazon, where the native peoples don’t wear any clothes and don’t see what all the fuss is about when it comes to nudity. No one there would give her shit about one bare-pussy indiscretion.
Cindy remained on speaking terms with Hildy and Susan, but kept her distance most of the time. Perhaps she didn’t trust herself to stay out of trouble when in the presence of the more free-spirited duo. Whatever the reason, Cindy didn’t communicate much over the summer, and, in the fall she went to a university on the other side of the country where she found a new boyfriend. After that, she didn’t communicate with her old girlfriends at all.
Even though they transferred to different colleges, Susan and Hildy continued as long-distance buddies. Hildy was glad the streaking snafu hadn’t ended their friendship. As she saw it, that little escapade might even have been a pivotal moment of awakening for Susan. In a way, public nudity was her calling. She told Hildy she was going naked at her new school—only in a way that’s considered legal and even respectable. She was a nude figure model for the art classes. In addition to the extra money the job paid, it didn’t hurt her social life, either. There was no shortage of college guys willing to date a nude model.
At her own new school, Hildy was quickly identified and made infamous as the leader of the Paper Bag Girls whose naked exploits were well documented on several Internet sites. But, within a week, the furor died down as fellow students found other things on which to focus their attention. Also, as time passed, Hildy’s own thoughts strayed in different directions. The streak became ancient history in her mind. It seemed so far away—so foreign to her current world. She couldn’t believe she’d been so fixated for so long on doing that one crazy stunt. She didn’t feel that compulsion anymore. If nothing else, the Valefour streak got that exhibitionism thing out of her system. Now she was at a whole new school and a whole new passion.
* * * *
“Hey, what’s up?” It was Hildy’s new roommate, Vanessa. The girl was wearing a bathrobe and a pair of flip-flops. She’d just returned from the dorm showers down the hall, and her long blond hair was still dripping. “Need another towel,” she said as she rummaged through a closet.
“Check down at the bottom,” said Hildy.
Vanessa bent over to inspect the closet’s lower reaches. As she did, the upper part of her bathrobe bloused outward, giving Hildy just the view she was hoping for. Her roomie had the biggest jugs she’d ever seen on a skinny girl. Much bigger than Dara’s. She was certain of that because she got a great look at Dara’s rack when the two of them were forced to scissor each other outside Valefour’s Assembly Hall. That was one memory Hildy couldn’t forget. The image was seared into her brain. As if it happened just that day, she could still picture those massive mams bouncing about. Those stiff, plump nipples jiggling their naughty, enticing dance. The pink nips and areolas gyrating in hypnotic circles at the tips of those soft, puffy funbags. Those big, bountiful, bewitching, bedeviling boobies that could make even a straight girl come just to look at them! Hildy’s mind raced.
What do those whoppers feel like? What would it be like to reach out and grab hold? To squeeze them. To rub them against your own tits. To suck them. A girl could become obsessed over a pair of tits like that. Yes, a girl could get uncontrollably obsessive over a pair of incredible, huge fucking tits like the set on…
“Vanessa,” Hildy offered, “you want me to wash that robe? I’m gonna do laundry this afternoon.”
“Sure.” The roommate slipped off the bathrobe and tossed it to Hildy. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure,” drooled Hildy as she gazed at her roomie’s naked body. Someday she’d experience the thrill of playing with those tantalizing titties—just as soon as she figured out a plan.
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Perfect Streak
Copyright © 2014 Lexington Manheim
Cover art by Kayden McLeod
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen or older.
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