A Quiet Neighbourhood

I thought on my feet. I'm quick when I have to be!

"If you show them that picture," I replied, "I'll tell them exactly what you were wearing when you took it!"

Melissa chuckled. "I'm sure you would," she answered, "and I'm sure it would be a little bit embarrassing for me the next time I saw your mom or dad around the neighbourhood. But that's if they believed you, of course... it's not as though you would have any photographic evidence to back it up. And remember, I'm an adult, Kendra – there's nobody you can tell about me doing this that would get me into anything like the trouble I could get you into..."

Rats! She'd got me there. It's true, the best I could hope for was to say "she was naked too," which, on reflection, probably wouldn't be much help to me in explaining what I was doing on the street in broad daylight with no clothes on.

"You got me there," I said. I was a little bit mad, but truth was, Melissa never struck me as a mean person and so I thought I still had a good chance of her keeping the secret, if I played along. "What can I give you to get that photo deleted?"

"Just your time, honey," Melissa replied with a smile. "Get in."

"Huh?"

"Get in the car," she elaborated. "I want you to come with me, right now, just as you are – as we both are, in fact. If you come with me and agree to do what I say today, I'll delete the picture tonight."

"Where are we going?" I asked. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I'll explain when we get there. Truth is, I'm not sure yet – but I have a few ideas..."

I was a little worried by that. But Melissa's smile was genuine and despite the fact she was blackmailing me, I felt strangely reassured.

I also didn't want to be out on the street naked any more than I had to be. I opened the passenger door, and slid into the car.

It felt incredibly strange to be sitting naked in that car. I could feel the upholstery of the car seat against by bare skin, warm where the sun had heated it through the windshield. I put on my seatbelt – it was uncomfortable, passing between my naked breasts, the stiff edge of the belt digging into the skin of my chest. Melissa put the car into drive, and away we went.

As we drove, we talked. I didn't ask questions about what she had planned for me – not because I wasn't concerned, quite the opposite in fact. But there were other, bigger questions that needed answering.

The main one being...

"So why are you driving around naked?"

"I could certainly ask the same of you," Melissa replied, laughing. "Well, not the driving part! But the naked part, at least."

"I..." I paused for a minute, trying to think of how to describe what I had been feeling the past few days. "It was just fun, you know? It felt good. It was weird and fun and naughty and different and I got a kick out of it."

"How many times have you walked in public naked like this now?" Melissa asked.

"Four," I answered.

Melissa laughed. "Nice! I saw you the other day, but I didn't know if you'd done it any other times. Well done you!"

"You saw me before?"

"Yes. You were a long way off though. I didn't catch up with you before you got home, you were almost at your house when I spotted you."

"Oh, right... is that why you're naked now too?" I asked. "Because you saw me doing it?"

Melissa laughed. "Oh no! Not at all honey! I've been doing this a long time now. Probably for all the same reasons you do it, though."

"So how come you're driving around naked now then? Where are your clothes?"

"Back at my office," she admitted. "You know where I work? Johnson's?"

I hadn't known, just that she worked in an office.

"Well," she continued, "I have my own office there, right by the elevator which goes right down to the parking lot. There are a lot of days when the office is almost empty, and on most of those there is nobody in my part of the building at all. Nearly everyone there takes their lunch later than me, and nobody else ever seems to leave the building. So quite often I will be by myself all day. I find it quite fun to lock the door of my office, take off all my clothes and work in the nude. And sometimes, when I am feeling especially brave, I will leave my office without getting dressed, go to the elevator, go down to the parking lot, get in my car and go for a little naked drive!

"So, when I saw you walking the street in your birthday suit, skipping along happily, I knew you were a girl after my own heart! To me, there is nothing more exciting than being completely naked somewhere that I shouldn't be, in danger at any moment of being caught and exposed, and having everybody see everything I've got to show. Wouldn't you say the same?"

I had to admit that I agreed with her, and that right now I was very much enjoying myself. Part of that, definitely, was that I was currently naked passenger in a car that had now left the suburbs behind and was heading into more traffic-heavy, busy areas (I hunched down a little in my seat but I knew from being outside the car and seeing in that high sides and tinted glass in the windows meant that someone would have to be looking pretty carefully to realise both the driver and passenger of the car were naked women). But another part of that was also down to the company. Melissa was warm, friendly, fun and, despite being maybe 15 years older than me, looked absolutely gorgeous. She had a naturally curvy figure – full breasts and rounded hips – but she also clearly worked hard at her appearance, with fat being scarce on her stomach and thighs and toned muscles visible when she moved her arms. Her brunette hair was long but pinned up and she wore gold earrings and a large pair of sunglasses to shield her eyes from the bright day. To be naked, with only a few inches of space between us, and her as naked as me, was really something else. I wasn't certain but I thought from the way she would look at me (when her eyes weren't on the road) she was enjoying my nakedness too.

I'd never been intimate with another woman before. Sure, when drunk at parties girl friends and I had made out, mostly to encourage boys to give us more drinks. But I'd only ever experienced sexual arousal alone or in the presence of men. But right now, despite the fact neither of us were touching, I felt our shared nudity was something intimate, and enticing, and very appealing.

We chatted away comfortably, openly expressing our enjoyment of nudity and covering a variety of other topics, until finally it seemed pertinent for me to ask: where were we going?

"It's lunchtime," Melissa answered, "we're going to get lunch."

Sure enough, moments later we arrived at a Burger King.

"Want to get drive-thru?" Melissa asked, turning to me with a wicked grin.

I grinned back. I had seen videos on the internet where women had gone through drive-thrus naked or topless, and that seemed like fun. If that was all the Melissa had planned for me, I felt quite relieved.

When we got closer to the restaurant, though, we could see that there was quite a line of cars stretching away from the drive-thru lane.

"Gosh darn it," Melissa exclaimed when she saw the line. "I really don't wanna have to wait, I'm so hungry right now." And she pulled the car away from the drive-thru lane and into the (comparatively empty) restaurant parking lot.

I started to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Melissa?" I began. "What are we doing?"

She parked the car, quite far from the restaurant entrance, then turned to me. Her grin, if anything, was even more wicked.

"I've just decided what you're going to do to earn me deleting that photo," she said.

"Melissa, no..." I groaned. I had an idea what was coming.

Melissa just laughed. "Yes," she said. "I want you to go into the restaurant and get our orders."

I refused, of course. I crossed my arms and pouted and told Melissa point blank that there was no way I was going to walk naked into Burger King and buy food. No way at all I was going to do that. Nuh-uh.

Until Melissa reminded me of the picture she'd taken. As she put it, I could either be seen naked by a bunch of strangers – or by my parents. When it came down to it, I had a bad choice either way, but I chose to go with the one that would be over and done with the quickest – I was going to go into Burger King with no clothes on.

My legs were already wobbling as I got out of the car and began to walk across the parking lot. I had never felt so exposed in all my life. I had one arm across my breasts, trying to cover my nipples, while my other hand was flat on my crotch, to keep some modesty by hiding my smooth shaven private parts from view. But there was no doubting the fact that I was completely naked in a public place.

A few customers inside the restaurant had already noticed me by the time I got close to the building. It had big, wide windows and I was clearly visible to them as I crossed the parking lot. Some simply stared at me, but others (though I could not yet hear them) were definitely pointing, laughing and calling others to the window to see the naked girl walking briskly towards them. So by the time I reached the door of the Burger King, I had pretty much guaranteed myself an audience.

I pushed open the door and stepped into the restaurant. Outside it was a warm day – inside, my bare skin registered the change to cool, air-conditioned temperatures.

With not even glass between me and the other people in the restaurant I felt more exposed than ever – surrounded on all sides by fully-dressed people, the sensation of being naked was scary and overwhelming.

Of course, by now more or less everyone in the restaurant had noticed me. My head was swimming, so I couldn't really make out what some of the guys were saying to me – but it seemed to be supposed to be complimentary (when in fact it was probably actually quite offensive).

I stood there, unable to move, one arm folded across my chest to cover my nipples, my other hand pressed against myself between my legs. It was poor coverage – for one thing, my entire naked butt was on display, a fact some guys had realised as they walked around the edge of the dining area in the restaurant to get a better view of me.

Of course, getting a view of me was not all they were doing. The male restaurant customers were whooping and hollering it up, delighted that a naked woman had wandered into their otherwise unremarkable lunch venue. There were shouts of "hey baby" and "hey sexy mama", as well as some much more explicit statements about parts of my anatomy (even the parts currently hidden by my hands). Meanwhile other patrons, mostly women, were expressing shock and surprise of their own. Mothers covered or averted their kids' eyes (which somehow offended me more than the catcalls from men – what was there about my naked body that made it unsuitable for the eyes of children?), high-school girls laughed, or glowered (if they were with their boyfriends and felt they were suddenly paying me more attention than they liked).

I blushed furiously, lowering my eyes to the ground. I felt dizzy and sick, and the world was spinning around me. I was totally naked, in front of all of these people, with no explanation, no excuse. I'd gone "streaking" around my neighbourhood and ended up in over my head. Instead of going home and masturbating happily in private, I had found myself by some amazing coincidence the unwilling puppet of my neighbour, who for some reason was as naked as I was, but safe in the comfort of her car.

I gritted my teeth. Deep breaths, Kendra. Just get through this. Order the food and get out.

I took one, two, three unsteady steps forward. Then I stopped.

In the swimming, blurred crowd ahead, a familiar face stood out for me. His name was Mark. We'd gone to High School together. He had been so cool, I'd harboured a huge crush on him, even when I was dating other guys. He'd never even noticed me, of course. But I'd always hoped he would.

Well, he noticed me now. He was staring, his burger held half-way to his open mouth. There was no doubting he recognised me.

My face felt hot with blushing. Panic gripped me. He recognised me. He knew me, he knew people who knew me. Everyone was going to find out eventually that Kendra Wilson had walked into Burger King stark naked, I was never going to be allowed to forget it, never going to live down the shame.

Thoughts of fulfilling the dare, of complying with Melissa's wishes and getting her to delete my photo, vanished in an instance. Wild panic replaced embarrassment and modesty. My arms dropped – giving the restaurant customers a full, uninterrupted view of my body – and then I turned and bolted.

I ran through the door, back across the parking lot, until I reached Melissa's car. I flung open the passenger door, threw myself in, and slammed it behind me. For a moment I was breathless, motionless, and silent – then Melissa turned to me and asked, "what happened?" and in response I burst into tears.

I blubbed and sobbed, real ugly-girl crying. I guess Melissa had planned to scold me for returning without the burgers – she had this whole kind of kinky dominatrix thing going on with ordering me about, I realised that now – but once she saw how upset I was I think that act went out of the window, and was replaced by genuine concern.

Concern, but also a sense of self preservation. People who had watched me run from the restaurant had seen me get into Melissa's car, and even now a few had stepped outside the restaurant and were walking over. If they got close to the car they would see Melissa was also naked, and she had no wish to be caught driving nude with a hysterical naked teenager in the passenger seat.

Quickly she backed the car out of the parking space, put it in drive and sped out of the Burger King parking lot. She was only on the road for perhaps 30 seconds before she spied another, emptier, lot at the back of some buildings, and pulled in. She stopped the car, turned off the ignition, and then unbuckled her seatbelt and threw her arms around me.

I buried my face in her bare shoulder, and sobbed away. I could feel the warmth and soft smoothness of her bare skin against my own. She felt wonderful and smelled even better, and she stroked my hair and soothed me. Gradually, I stopped crying and lifted my face from her shoulder. I sat back, apart from her embrace.

"Look at that," she said, "you've gone and gotten me all wet."

I looked first at her shoulder, where my tears had fallen – then my gaze travelled down her body, to settle on her naked crotch. For a moment she said and did nothing, then she followed my eyes down to look at herself – and we both burst out laughing!

"I'm sorry!" she said between helpless laughter. "That wasn't what I meant! Poor choice of words!"

I just grinned. "Now I don't know whether to be disappointed?"

She laughed again. "OK, scratch this conversation, time to start over. What happened back there?"

I explained everything, a gush of words pouring forth as I described all the feelings I'd had, how overwhelmed being nude in front of all those people had been – and how I'd seen, and been seen by, someone I knew. Surprisingly, now I was away from the moment, I didn't feel any negativity around what had happened – a little residual embarrassment, but no fear, no panic, and no remorse or regret either.

Melissa listened attentively. She occasionally bit her lip – I suppose it could have been sympathetic, but as an expression it seemed more to me to be an attempt to suppress some feeling of arousal. Her nipples were standing to attention and she made no move to cover them; I got the sense that some aspects of my story, if not all of them, were turning her on.

But if she was excited by my account, she was at least considerate enough to show only sympathy, rather than excitement. Or anger. I suppose I had been afraid that she would be cross with me for not completing her instructions, for running from the restaurant rather than ordering food. I'd been a disobedient naked servant, and I had half expected to be punished – but it seemed like her game was postponed, at least for a short while, so she could make sure that I was OK.

"I'm sorry," she said when I was finished. "I shouldn't have put you into that situation. You're so new to this, but you were radiating so much self-confidence that I almost forgot that. I asked you to go from, well, not zero but about 12 , to 100 straight away."

"It's OK," I said, and I meant it. In truth, when I thought back I felt proud of what I had done. It was really an extension of what I'd been doing anyway. Exhibitionism. Exposing my naked body in public because it excited me to do so. True, I wouldn't have chosen of my own accord to do it the way I had, but with Melissa's urging I'd done a real "bucket list" thing. Despite how I had freaked out, I felt pleased she'd made me do it.

Melissa, though, remained contrite. "It's not OK," she said. "I'm so thoughtless. I had seen you out in the neighbourhood all naked, and rather than embrace you as a kindred spirit I tried to take advantage of you, tried to blackmail you into doing something I wasn't brave enough to do myself."

"What?" I was surprised. Melissa, naked in her car, had seemed to me so self-assured that I had assumed that picking up hamburgers naked was a thing she did all the time. I said as much.

"No," she shook her head, smiling but, for the first time today, actually seeming a little embarrassed. "I always fantasised about doing it, but never had the nerve. This sort of exhibitionism always gets me going – but as soon as I get to the point of actually doing it, I chicken out When I saw you, I hatched a plan because I figured if I wasn't going to do it myself, the next best thing would be to get a goddamn gorgeous girl like you to do it for me.."

"So you're not the big brave lady exhibitionist?" I asked, not unkindly.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," she said. "I've been exposing myself in all sorts of ways since I was way younger than you are now. I'm certainly not the shy and retiring type. But full on, naked-in-public scenarios like that? It's always been the dream, but I never made it reality..."

I asked Melissa about her history as an exhibitionist. I was coming around rapidly to the idea that that was what I was, and I was interested to know what she'd done. As she sat in front of me, nude and perfect, describing some of the flashing, exposing and streaking she'd done in her life, as she talked about how she'd shown her body to family, to friends and to strangers, I found myself imagining what it must have been like, picturing myself in those situations. My pulse quickened, my nipples hardened, and a knot of tension began to form inside me, between my legs. Melissa's stories were funny and interesting but they were also damn sexy, and hearing them was arousing me like nothing else.

"Look at us," I said. "Are you as turned on as I am right now?"

Melissa gasped for a second. "Are you always this upfront? I thought girls your age were all innocent!" she laughed.

I smiled. "I'm 19, and I'm no shrinking violet! Besides, it's not like either of us is in a state where we can hide it. We're both naked, in case you forgot."

"How could I?" she grinned. "And yes, since there's no point hiding it, yes, I am incredibly turned on right now and to be honest I've been riding that wave since the moment you parked that beautiful bare butt of yours in my car."

"Well then," I said after a moment, "let's use that."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," I continued. "I think I've got one up on you at the moment. And it's something you did always want to do, you said yourself. And we haven't had any lunch yet..."

–

We walked across the parking lot towards the Burger King restaurant. We were hand in hand, Melissa and I. Our free hands hung loose at our sides – we weren't covering anything. We were letting everyone see every inch of our nakedness.