Naked Women In Shorts

by Kara Bryn

  "Look, I'll see you up in the bar," he said and, relaxing his guard, he took one last look at my body as he turned to walk away.

  I finished my work over the next forty minutes and heard the sounds of people filtering out of the office. It sounded as if most of my co-workers were heading up to the bar. Soon there were only a handful of us left in the room and I felt it was time for me to get my things. I had won.

  I went over to the small meeting room and stepped inside. I turned around and then something struck me: there were no boxes in the corner, nor one on the table. My heart started thumping and I opened the meeting room door and stuck my head out.

  "Donald," I said, addressing one of the young lawyers still at his desk.

  "Um, yes, Jennifer." He seemed embarrassed just to be talking to me.

  "There were some boxes in here earlier. Do you know what happened to them?" I made the question sound as innocent as I could but, for the first time since this morning, my mouth felt dry and my confidence was disappearing.

  "Um, I think they went off to storage this afternoon," he told me.

  That can't be right! "All of them?" I asked.

  "Well, I think so. There was a note last week to put any old files in here to be taken into archiving."

  "Okay, thanks!" I said, trying to be cheerful as I shut the door behind me.

  I felt the strength go out of my legs and I slid down the door to squat with my back against it. I remembered that memo now. So my clothes had most likely been taken to the archiving facility. I let out a laugh of despair. Someone would be in for a shock if they ever opened that box.

  Now I regretted all those chances I'd had to get my clothes over the course of the day. I could have been dressed by nine thirty; I could have put everything back on before my meeting with Kieran; I could have let Carol buy me something at lunchtime. But, no, I had to prove a point, I had to come out on top. Except this time, I wasn't going to come out on top, because I was still naked and my clothes were miles away.

  I stay sunk on my heels with my back against the door trying to work out how to get out of the mess I was in. I could run and hide, but where would I run to? I couldn't walk home like this, not at this time of day. And I certainly wasn't going to admit I needed help. That would undo everything I'd been through today. Slowly, the realisation dawned on me that my only way forward was the same way I'd made it through the rest of the day: to be even more brazen; to show no sign of weakness.

  With resolve I stood and left the meeting room. The office was almost deserted as I walked out and pressed the button to call the lift. The doors opened and, thankfully, it was empty. Taking a deep breath I put my finger on the button to the eighteenth floor and the rooftop bar. This was no time to back out: I had nowhere to back out to.

  The lift climbed four floors and then slowed to a stop. My heart beat faster as I realised we were only on the twelfth floor. The doors slid open to reveal a middle aged man in a suit. His jaw dropped at the sight of me standing there naked. I mustered a smile. "Going up?" I asked.

  "Erm, uh, no… down…" he mumbled, trying to work out whether he should be staring, looking away or calling security.

  I pressed the door close button. With an encounter with a total stranger out of the way I felt more confident again, and I was ready to meet whoever was waiting for me in the bar.

  As the doors opened on the eighteenth floor I heard familiar voices at the bar. It seemed like a good proportion of the office had made it up there on the promise of free drinks. As I walked towards them heads turned and then, spontaneously, someone started to applaud.

  More joined in and, soon everyone had turned in my direction, applauding and with smiles on their faces. I stopped, put one hand on my hip and struck a pose as if I was in a beauty contest. I'd always loved being the centre of attention, and it's strange how circumstances can lead you somewhere you'd never have thought you'd be.

  David shook his head in disbelief, but he too was smiling. So, no-one suspected that my nudity wasn't entirely through choice. That was good. As the applause died down I walked towards the bar.

  "What does a girl have to do to get a free drink around here?" I asked. The crowd parted and I approached the barman, who was grinning from ear to ear.

  In a complete turnaround to the rest of the day, people seemed to find it much easier to come and talk to me now. I don't think it was just the effects of alcohol, and the topic of conversation was almost always the same: they thought they'd be putting me in place with this joke, how had I managed the whole day, they couldn't believe I was still walking around naked and so on.

  I worked my way around the room and eventually worked myself into a conversation with Kieran.

  "Hey, young man," I said, "Fancy showing a girl a good time on the pool table?"

  He blushed; I had a way of planting images in a man's mind.

  "I, er, I don't really know how to play," he said. I smiled.

  "Perfect! Shall we say ten pounds a game then?" I winked and then, taking his hand, turned and led him to the pool table on the other side of the room.

  I racked up and broke off. I could see how hard it was for Kieran, and probably everyone else in the room too, not to stare at my body as I leant over the table. I could feel the eyes on me, now given an excuse as they watched me take each shot.

  I was a pretty decent pool player but nothing dropped in off the break and it was Kieran's turn. He stood up against the table and made the worst bridging hand I've ever seen. He tried to push the cue through but it just skimmed off the edge of the ball sending it barely an inch and in the wrong direction.

  "Woah! You really don't know how to play!" I said. I strode over and put the white ball back where it had been before his shot.

  "Here," I said, "Put your left hand like this." I took his left hand in mine and felt his whole body tense up at my touch. Good.

  I made a passable bridge with his left hand. "Now leave that there. You need to twist your hips forward and bend slightly." I put my hands around his waist and pushed him into shape. "There. And then with your right arm…"

  This was the moment where I had him. With one arm on his rest hand I reached around him and held onto his right arm, the one with the cue. He was much bigger than me and I had to press against him to reach all the way around his bulky torso. My breasts brushed against the cotton of his shirt and I could tell he was holding his breath.

  "Remember to breathe," I whispered into his ear as I pulled his cue arm back. "Now, just push through like… this." And on the last word I moved his arm as smoothly as I could to hit the cue ball.

  I stayed wrapped around him for another second.

  "How's that?" I asked softly. His mouth moved but no sound came out.

  We played through most of the game with me helping Kieran on each shot. I think we might have been the centre of attention, we must have been, but I only had eyes for him, and he was under my spell.

  The game only lasted ten minutes in any case since, as I mentioned, I was pretty good at the game and had cleared the table before he had potted more than a couple of balls.

  As the black ball fell Kieran stood with by the table with the cue in his hands. I walked around and leant against the table, standing as close to him as I could without touching. I felt so charged up it's a wonder there wasn't a genuine spark jumping between us.

  "You're… good at this," he said.

  "I'm good at lots of things," I replied as I looked into those deep, dark eyes. Not the most subtle of lines, but it seemed subtlety didn't work on Kieran. "But can I let you in on a secret?"

  "Erm, sure," Kieran replied, probably wondering what he was letting himself in for.

  "I'm in a spot of bother," I whispered, "You see, I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't seem to have any clothes." He blushed again at the mention of it. No matter that I was standing just next to him, it seemed that drawing attention to it was the most embarrassing thing I could do.

  "Erm, yes, I'd, er, noti
ced," he said.

  "I thought you might have." I continued in a low voice as I leant even closer towards him. "I think some of the others might have too." He laughed. I continued.

  "Well, anyway, that's all fine here because, I mean, you don't mind, do you?" He shook his head, as he was obliged to do. "I thought not. But I really need to get home, and I was hoping you could help me out." Or take me back to your place, perhaps?

  "But, can't you just get dressed? I mean, not that you don't look… you know what I mean." He was so worried about digging himself into a hole that he just stopped mid-sentence.

  I shook my head. "Well, the thing is, I can't find my things." He was taken aback. "And I'm not sure who to ask." This wasn't entirely true as I had a fair idea where my clothes were, which was about five miles out of town in the storage facility. "So, I thought, you could probably help me to get home."

  Kieran smiled. Finally, the message had gotten through. "I'd be happy to help," he said, "Just tell me what to do."

  I smiled a wicked smile. "Oh, I'll tell you exactly what to do, don't you worry. But let's have one more game of pool, and then you can take me home?" I'm sure his whole body started to tremble at the thought.

  "Or," I said, "Let's scratch the pool idea. Meet me in the car park in five minutes."

  With that I put my pool cue back in the rack and walked to the lift. I didn't feel I owed it to anyone to say goodnight; I preferred the mystery of just leaving, and I'm sure everyone was assuming I'd be finding my clothes and heading home. But, if Kieran was as good as his word, this was only the start of our evening, and I had no plans that required clothing, for either of us.

  The Pianist

  Jessica sat on the piano stool and turned to look at Miss Ashdown.

  "So, what are we doing this week?" she asked her teacher.

  "Just play something for me first, will you?" Miss Ashdown said, "The music for Mozart's Piano Sonata in C major is in front of you, and I'd just like you to play the opening."

  Jessica glanced at the sheet music, knowing that she didn't really need it: she had played this piece hundreds of times before and knew it off by heart.

  Miss Ashdown listened thoughtfully as Jessica played through the opening bars, her fingers moving quickly and without error over the keys. The teacher raised her hand to indicate that she had heard enough.

  "Well, Jessica," Miss Ashdown said, "Your technique is excellent, and your dedication to practice really shows. But… and you know there would be a 'but', didn't you?... but I want to hear more feeling from your playing from now on. If you want to be one of the greats, it's not just about playing the notes, but you really have to feel them, and make your audience feel what you're feeling."

  Jessica looked at Miss Ashdown. She understood the words, but wasn't really sure how to go about putting that into practise.

  "Feel what the music is trying to say," Miss Ashdown continued, "And when each note comes, don’t just tap the key as if it's a tool to be manipulated with precision, but caress the keys as if you were stroking the piano to encourage it to make music in response."

  Jessica still didn't know how to respond, and Miss Ashdown knew she didn't understand the point she was trying to make. She decided to try a different tack.

  "How old are you Jessica?" Miss Ashdown asked.

  "Nineteen now, Miss Ashdown," Jessica replied.

  "Well, then, you should be full of the passion of youth! Twenty years ago, when I was your age, I had so much pent-up sexual frustration that I would attack the keyboard as if it were twenty-five year old boy with a fast car and an open shirt who'd bought me one too many drinks."

  Jessica blushed at the analogy.

  "But the problem was, Jessica, I didn't practise enough, and I didn't have your technique. I had plenty of passion, and that carried me so far, but I just didn't work enough. I think for you it's the opposite problem."

  Miss Ashdown paused before asking a difficult question. "Do you have a boyfriend yet, Jessica?"

  Jessica turned a brighter shade of red. "Erm, no, Miss Ashdown."

  The teacher smiled at her pupil. "Well, this should be a breeze, then. There should be enough sexual tension inside you to fill the Albert Hall, and we just have to work out how to get it out, eh?"

  Jessica turned back to the sheet music to hide her embarrassment.

  "Let's try the piece again then," Miss Ashdown prompted.

  Jessica turned back to the keyboard and started again. She tried to put more expression into the rises and falls of cadence, she tried varying the volume of her notes, and she tried to vary a fraction from the rhythmic tapping that she was used to. But Miss Ashdown stopped her at the fourth bar again.

  "Okay, you don't have to prove to me that your technique can vary the music," the teacher said, "I can see the effort you're putting in, but I still can't feel the music. Let's start simply with your pedal work."

  Jessica looked down at her feet on the pedals. Her black, flat-soled shoes were resting lightly on the brass. Miss Ashdown followed her eyes.

  "First, you can't feel anything in those things, so take them off."

  Nervously, Jessica started to bend down to unfasten the buckle across her ankle, and managed to bang her head on the piano in front of her before she could even reach.

  "Here, let me," Miss Ashdown said with a smile. She knelt down beside her pupil and unfastened first one buckle and then the other and carefully slid Jessica's shoes off of her feet and placed them to one side. Jessica placed her white socked feet back on the foot pedals.

  "Not so fast," Miss Ashdown said, "Let's make things a bit more physical."

  With that, she slipped her fingers inside Jessica's right sock and slipped it off her foot, and then followed with her left. She paused for a second with her hands on Jessica's feet.

  "Now, I want you to really loosen up."

  With her teacher's hands on her feet that wasn't going to be easy for Jessica, but Miss Ashdown's firm fingers held each foot and massaged them gently. Jessica felt both a soothing relaxation and a slight thrill that she hadn't expected. Her feet had never been touched by anyone before.

  Miss Ashdown ran her hands up Jessica's calves, massaging gently as they went, as far as just beneath the hem of her narrow skirt, and then as she moved back down she placed Jessica's feet back on the pedals.

  Jessica jumped with a start at the feel of the cold brass on her bare sole. Miss Ashdown laughed. "So you can feel," she said with a smile which relaxed Jessica a little.

  "Now," Miss Ashdown said, returning to sit on her own stool, "Let's see how that changes things. Make me feel what you're feeling."

  Jessica started again and, although her feet were only helping her hands, each touch of the ball of her foot on the hard metal sent a chill up her spine and heightened her sense of the music. She was conscious of every light contact as her feet danced their abstract patterns on the cold bronze.

  Miss Ashdown stopped her again after the fourth bar and Jessica was about to sink with disappointment when Miss Ashdown uttered a triumphant "Bravo! Can you feel the difference?"

  Jessica nodded, and this time she hadn't been using technique to fake it. Maybe it was just the novelty of playing with bare feet, but her senses seemed altogether heightened. Such was her sensitive state that she nearly jumped off of her stool when Miss Ashdown touched her on her arm.

  "Wow!" the teacher said at Jessica's response, "I was about to say how much better that was, and now I see from that reaction that there's a whole lot more where it came from!"

  Jessica smiled again. She wasn't really sure what Miss Ashdown meant, but she certainly did feel more aware of everything around her. And all from taking off her shoes and socks.

  "So, let's get more of that energy out of you and into the music, shall we? Let's look at that position of yours and see if can unwind it a bit. Your feet are moving well from the ankles, but we really need to get your whole leg working better."

  Miss Ashdown rose and stood behin
d Jessica. Jessica jumped again as her teacher's hands rested on her shoulders.

  "That's a whole world of tension right there," Miss Ashdown said as her hands tried to knead Jessica's tight muscles with her fingers. "Maybe let's start with some breathing instead. Stand up for me."

  Jessica stood and was about to turn around but Miss Ashdown's hands gripped her waist and held her. "No, stay there. Now breathe in. Breathe as deeply as you can."

  Jessica took a long deep breath and then exhaled slowly. Miss Ashdown's hands remained on her waist, feeling the expansion and contraction.

  "And again." Miss Ashdown's hands moved forward onto Jessica's stomach, feeling the tightness and release as each breath was taken in and then released with a nervous shudder.

  "Just relax, will you? You're so tense your lungs are only half filling."

  Jessica didn't agree with that assessment as she felt she had enough air in her to burst, but she wasn't going to contradict her teacher.

  "Now, stretch your arms up for me. As far as you can."

  Jessica reached her arms up. "Higher!" came the instruction as she reached for the ceiling. Her back arched and her springy short-sleeved top, stretched tight by her reach upwards, popped out from beneath Miss Ashdown's light grip and Jessica felt her teacher's fingers on the bare skin of her stomach. She flinched in response and her stomach collapsed inwards.

  "Really, Jessica, there's no need to start at every touch. Come on: stretch!"

  Jessica obediently reached for the ceiling again, taking as deep a breath in as she could, still conscious of Miss Ashdown's hands on her waist and the air on her stomach.

  "More! Really reach," she was told.

  Jessica unconsciously went onto tiptoes to reach as high as possible and felt her balance failing. Miss Ashdown's grip tightened around her waist and held her steady.

  "Okay, and now out." Jessica released the air that she felt would explode from her lungs. She was slightly giddy with too much oxygen, and also from the unusual experience.

  "Did you ever take ballet lessons as a child?" Miss Ashdown asked. Jessica shook her head.