deep breath and waited to be certain no one was around. Finally I raced from the car, my tattered dress tumbling from my shoulders in a gust of wind the instant I climbed out. Desperate to get inside I ignored it, my hands covering as much as they could, and burst into the entryway.
It was empty, and I sighed in relief. The idea of one of my neighbors spotting me there with my stripped and shivering skin exposed sent sickening, aching pain through my stomach.
I pressed the up button on the elevator. Holding one hand over my pussy and the other arm draped over my breasts I waited and listened to the carriage drop painfully slow to the first floor.
But the front door opened behind me before the elevator arrived, and I grimaced in horror. A rushing noise filled my ears as my brain screamed out that this wasn’t happening. The insistent denial only made it feel worse.
His heavy steps came up next to me and he stood calmly, quietly, waiting for the elevator. I saw him glance at the button to be sure it was lit, briefly at me, then back to the elevator doors. I turned and looked over at him through the corner of my eye. He looked back over to me and gave me a quick nod.
“Good morning, Jo,” he quipped. I had seen him around before, in the elevator. He lived on one of the floors above me. My gut knotted at the realization that I would likely see him again.
I gave him a puzzled, weak smile. “Hi Stan,” was all I managed to reply.
He looked up and down my quivering body. I let him, only because I didn’t know what else to do. “Rough night?” he asked.
I shrugged, my throat feeling suddenly parched. “Apparently. I don’t really remember. But the morning seems to be simply horrid.”
He grinned smugly. “Sunday morning is like that sometimes.”
The lump in my throat refused to go down, but I had little choice then but to step onto the elevator with Stan. It was better than waiting in the lobby for the elevator to come back down, hoping no one else came in and saw me naked as well. Stan let out a long, soothing sigh as we watched the doors shut.
“Which floor?” he asked with a strange calm as he pressed the button for his level.
My voice cracked as I tried to answer, and he glanced over at me expectantly as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Five.” I had to choke the word out.
Stan rocked back and forth on his heels, mostly ignoring me, as we rode up to my floor. The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and I hurried out, not sure how to cover everything as I walked away from him. I opted to keep my pussy and breasts as concealed as I could, hoping that Stan wasn’t staring at my bare ass while I ran along the hall.
I stopped at my door and turned around to hide my backside. The elevator doors hadn’t closed yet and Stan was standing there, watching me with the same relaxed expression. I waited impatiently, sheepishly, holding my hands over myself as he watched. He gave a quick wave as the doors started to shut, and with a heaving relief I instinctively waved back.
I cringed and looked down at my exposed and erect nipples, the arm that had been covering them frozen in mid-wave, and listened to the elevator doors close. With a deep moan I rummaged through my clutch and found my keys. At last I burst into my apartment and slammed the door shut behind me.
I hurried to the bathroom and climbed into the shower. In a few minutes I was warm and clean, and had a chance to stop to think.
A woman wakes up bloody and naked in the woods after going to the bar the night before, finding her torn clothes not far away. The first thing that comes to mind is rape. The evening was a blur after some point, and I realized I could easily have been roofied. My stomach felt nauseous.
But I wasn’t cut, so the blood couldn’t have been my own. In fact, I wasn’t hurt at all. Not even my vagina or breasts were sore, which I would have
It was empty, and I sighed in relief. The idea of one of my neighbors spotting me there with my stripped and shivering skin exposed sent sickening, aching pain through my stomach.
I pressed the up button on the elevator. Holding one hand over my pussy and the other arm draped over my breasts I waited and listened to the carriage drop painfully slow to the first floor.
But the front door opened behind me before the elevator arrived, and I grimaced in horror. A rushing noise filled my ears as my brain screamed out that this wasn’t happening. The insistent denial only made it feel worse.
His heavy steps came up next to me and he stood calmly, quietly, waiting for the elevator. I saw him glance at the button to be sure it was lit, briefly at me, then back to the elevator doors. I turned and looked over at him through the corner of my eye. He looked back over to me and gave me a quick nod.
“Good morning, Jo,” he quipped. I had seen him around before, in the elevator. He lived on one of the floors above me. My gut knotted at the realization that I would likely see him again.
I gave him a puzzled, weak smile. “Hi Stan,” was all I managed to reply.
He looked up and down my quivering body. I let him, only because I didn’t know what else to do. “Rough night?” he asked.
I shrugged, my throat feeling suddenly parched. “Apparently. I don’t really remember. But the morning seems to be simply horrid.”
He grinned smugly. “Sunday morning is like that sometimes.”
The lump in my throat refused to go down, but I had little choice then but to step onto the elevator with Stan. It was better than waiting in the lobby for the elevator to come back down, hoping no one else came in and saw me naked as well. Stan let out a long, soothing sigh as we watched the doors shut.
“Which floor?” he asked with a strange calm as he pressed the button for his level.
My voice cracked as I tried to answer, and he glanced over at me expectantly as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Five.” I had to choke the word out.
Stan rocked back and forth on his heels, mostly ignoring me, as we rode up to my floor. The elevator stopped, the doors slid open, and I hurried out, not sure how to cover everything as I walked away from him. I opted to keep my pussy and breasts as concealed as I could, hoping that Stan wasn’t staring at my bare ass while I ran along the hall.
I stopped at my door and turned around to hide my backside. The elevator doors hadn’t closed yet and Stan was standing there, watching me with the same relaxed expression. I waited impatiently, sheepishly, holding my hands over myself as he watched. He gave a quick wave as the doors started to shut, and with a heaving relief I instinctively waved back.
I cringed and looked down at my exposed and erect nipples, the arm that had been covering them frozen in mid-wave, and listened to the elevator doors close. With a deep moan I rummaged through my clutch and found my keys. At last I burst into my apartment and slammed the door shut behind me.
I hurried to the bathroom and climbed into the shower. In a few minutes I was warm and clean, and had a chance to stop to think.
A woman wakes up bloody and naked in the woods after going to the bar the night before, finding her torn clothes not far away. The first thing that comes to mind is rape. The evening was a blur after some point, and I realized I could easily have been roofied. My stomach felt nauseous.
But I wasn’t cut, so the blood couldn’t have been my own. In fact, I wasn’t hurt at all. Not even my vagina or breasts were sore, which I would have
Similar Books
