Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Author: calylia Title: S3 Part: Chapter 1 Universe: Lemonade Paradise Summary: the slow and consensual corruption of a conservative country girl to be a sex worker. Keywords: F_solo, humil, voy, ws Created: 11/11/2003 Last Modified: 12/07/2003 (v0.2) This story contains adult material. if you're under legal age where you live, or you are offended by materials that alludes to sex and sexual practices, you should stop reading before the dotted line below ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Copyrights and Information The story, and the characters here in this story is purely fictional; any similarity to actual persons and/or events are strictly coincidental. If you would like to borrow one of the characters from Lemonade Paradise to work with, please contact me first. You can re-distribute this story to your friends and family as long as it is not altered in anyway, electronically or otherwise. However, as most of my stories are still in draft form, it would be best if you directed them back to the original site for the latest version: /~calylia/ This story can not be included in any compliation or website without express permission from me. If you think my story is good enough to be put on your website, then at least take the effort to contact me. please send all requests and comments tothe contact form at: /~calylia/ i appreciate all comments and feedback! p.s. yes, i know this story is a bit shallow and pretentious. i just wanted to do something quick and fun. although, "quick" isn't exactly happening right now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ''Tricia,'' A voice came from the washroom door, ''let me in!'' The room was steamy from the running shower, but no one was enjoying its streams. Tricia was standing with one foot on top of the toilet in such a way that her butt was sticking out in an obtrusive manner. Her black miniskirt barely covered her nakedness, and her yellow panties were down around one ankle. Her right hand held a gleaming pink object whose target was hidden by the miniskirt. Its vibrations were a source of distraction for Tricia, and she would rather not go to the door just then. "Tricia," Patti pounded the door again, "if you're just taking a shower, at least let me in before I burst in my pants! It's not like I'm going to see you naked or anything. " Though Patti's assumption was far from correct, Tricia was hoping that her conservative roomate would open the door. "Tricia!" Patti would exclaim, "What are you doing?!" Half blind by her naked desire, Tricia's hands moved on their own accord. Her spaghetti top was pulled off past the bottom of her breasts, and her left hand, wet with creamy lotion, was smearing its handprint all across her hard nipples. On top of that, Tricia's mouth held with a pair of white, though slightly discoloured, panties. "Forget it,'' the owner of the panties yelled from the other side of the door, ''I will just try to make it to work. It's only a twenty minute bus ride. If I burst in my pants on the way, it's all your fault ...'' The thought of a red-faced Patti suddenly crossing her legs, clenching her innards as the inevitible stream of hot liquid spew out from her groin while onlookers point and laugh pushed Tricia over the edge. Moaning loudly into her gag, Tricia's knees buckled, and she squat down slightly, rubbing herself furiously with her other hand, trying to get the most from the moment. Coming down from her orgasm, Patti's voice droned on. "... any stains, you'll have to wash out.'' Why does she have to be so snobby all the time? Tricia thought to herself. Patti is such a nuisance. You'd think a country girl would be so much nicer. Cleaning up quickly, Tricia threw her clothes in the hamper, wrapped herself in her towel. Oh no, Tricia thought, what am I going to do with the vibrator? There isn't any place I could hide it .... Her thoughts were interrupted by another barrage of pounding at the door. Rolling her eyes in disgust, Tricia took a deep breath and opened the door. "Finally!" Patti let out her breath explosively. Patti was dressed in her work uniform; the "Mr. Video" striped t-shirt and black dress pants. Her hair was already braided back severely, and her large framed glasses fogged up in the steamy room. Tricia stepped back as her roomate urgently rushed past her. Shaking her head, Tricia walked out the door slowly, trying to remain her composure. She wondered whether her towel was long enough to conceal the fact that she was hiding something between her legs. It would be so embarassing for her if she lost control and the vibrator fell out. Then she would have to explain what it was to her roomate, and why it was in there in the first place. It's a good thing it's only the small one, Tricia thought to herself. Finally, she reached the door. She was about to close the door when she saw what Patti was doing. Patti had just hiked up her shirt and took off her pants, giving Tricia a good look at her tush. As she bent over, Patti could no longer contain herself. The stream of urine shot out even before she could sit down. Fortunately, her aim was good, and none escaped the bowl. Afraid to spill, Patti remained hovered at that angle, watching the stream of liquid between her legs. I should really close this door, Tricia thought to herself. But her hands would not obey her. She can imagine her roomate suddenly being aware of her new audience. She would probably let out an embarassed shriek and pulled her t-shirt down in an attempt to cover herself. Then, the thin material would get wet, and the liquid would start flowing down her leg and onto the floor. Somehow, Tricia managed to close the door and get herself back to her room. Lying on the bed, she stared up at the ceiling, not caring that her towel has come undone. Why is my imagination been so perverted lately? She thought, putting an arm over her forehead. While it is true that Patti was the main 'feature' she chose this apartment, she could not understand her own reason for it. To make matters worse, her recent fantasies have all involved Patti in some way, so much that Tricia has resorted to borrowing her roomates' panties from the hamper. She did it the first time on a whim; it felt so perverted that her senses almost overloaded the first time Tricia smelt her roomates' dirty underwear. The faint musky scent of her roomates pussy combined with the dirtiness of it all drove her wild, and she came like never before. Now that it has become common place, Tricia studies Patti's habits to make it more exciting. These last two days were a perfect example. Monday was Patti's busiest day. After classes in the afternoon, Patti rushes home to change, not bothering with a shower. Her shift runs until late night, when she comes home and collapses on the bed. Tuesday morning classes often prevented Patti from showering in the morning, and work, again, robs her of any free time. Patti is not a slob like Tricia though. Although she has no time to shower, she often changes her underwear either before her classes or before her work. As luck would have it, Patti changed before work, dropping a 36-hour pair of panties into the hamper. Tricia could not resist the temptation, and rushed into the bathroom in the fraction of time that Patti came out of the washroom to taste her offerings. Tricia knows she's probably bi-sexual, and she accepts that. Guys clamoured after her in high school, and even now, to college. There was not a room where she could walk in where heads would not turn. She was simply that stunning. But the success rate of guys who manage to catch her were few and far in between. Most guys just seemed too immature and over-interested in sex to pay attention to her, as a person, not her, as a source of gratification and status. She also remembers the time she spent with her cousins during her holidays, and the lovely time they had together. Her family always commented on their beauty at family gatherings. She remembers the first time she reached out for cousin's bosom, and the feeling of an encouraging arm around her. Moaning out their joy together, discovering each other's bodies, she remembers the steamy nights and secret rendevouzs in the garden. She remembers the first day she saw Patti. She was sitting in the corner of the crowded coffee house, drinking coffee with a prospective boyfriend when Patti walked in. She looked as she did now; stubbornly braided hair behind her, large glasses framing her smallish eyes. Patti looked around nervously, as if she was unsure of what to do. Patti was a bit shorter than the average patrons, and their height blocked most of her view. Patti stood up on her toes, and began looking around in an exaggerated motion of searching, even to the point of shading her eyes. What's she trying to do, Tricia thought to herself, how's shading her eyes indoors actually going to help her to look? Patti smiled and slowing inched her way to the communal bulletin board, apologizing to every person she bumped into. When she reached there, however, she ran into another problem; try as she might, there was no space for her to put her advertisment except in the upper corners, and it was quite beyond her reach. The look of disappointment was so intense on Patti's face that Tricia felt it sting her heart. Tricia was surprised. Why was she feeling like this? It was just some girl trying to post her ad. Why was she caring so much? Ignoring her friend's protest, Tricia got up and walked to the board. "Hi there," Tricia said, "trying to put an ad on the board?" Thankful for help, but bashful as well, Patti nodded affirmative and looked back to the ground. "Here," Tricia offered her hand, "let me help you." Being a good head taller than Patti, Tricia easily pinned the page to the top. Patti smiled gratefully, thanked her, and left. All this time, Tricia's eyes never left her. The advertisment proclaimed that she was looking for a roomate to share a apartment in a female-only dorm on campus. Smoking was prohibited, as were pets, but each will have their own room. Tricia never understood why she did it. The time it takes her to commute has reduced from half an hour on crowded, uncomfortable buses to a mere five minutes. On the other hand, the rent she pays now is almost double as what she paid before, she had to give up smoking inside her room, and her relationship with her old roomate, a guy she was seriously interested in, was completely ruined. On top of that, Patti turned out to be a uptight introvert from the country whose conservatism prevented her from doing what she likes best: sex. She missed the days when she could diddle herself openly in the living room without a care, knowing that her boyfriend could walk in anytime only added to the thrill. Besides, Tricia thought with a grin, it drove him nuts when he did walk in. She felt powerful being able to control her boyfriend; to be able to bring him to the peak of arousal, or snuff out his lust with mere cold words. It is contradictary in a way, but logical in another; on one hand, she despises guys for being sex-craved maniacs demanding her services, but on the other hand, she enjoys it when the control is in her hands. Nowadays, she does not dare bring home any boys for fear of Patti's reaction. Is that it? she thought, is that why I'm so fustrated? Why do I care so much for Patti's approval? Tricia sighs, throwing open her towel to bask in the warm sunlight that came from the windows. Staring into the blue sky, Tricia ponders the answer to her question.