A T-Shirt with the sleeves cut off

After several minutes pawing through the bin, part of Julie was beginning to despair. Everything in the bin was some sort of jacket or shirt, none of which was long enough to cover her below her waist. Yet, even as that part of her cringed, another part of her relished the lack of coverage, nagged at her to just give up and go home nude, to flaunt herself to the town. Her loins warmed again as she, for a moment, contemplated doing just that.

Julie nudged those thoughts to the back of her mind, insofar as she could manage, and kept digging into the very bottom of the bin. Her persistence paid off after a few moments, when she triumphantly pulled a rather large white T-shirt from the bottom of the bin. A smile touched the corners of her mouth, as this shirt would look much like a short dress on her. As she shook the shirt out, though, that smile disappeared.

This shirt had obviously been the gym-wear of one of the school's jocks, and had been modified accordingly. The sleeves had been removed, and the armholes cut crudely downwards from where the sleeves had been to a few inches above the hem of the shirt. Beggars couldn't be choosers, though, and so Julie pulled the shirt over her head.

As she'd suspected, it was long enough to cover her, though she was **** to revise her estimate of length to minidress. She had a few scant inches of material below her buttocks and slit. While the shirt was definitely loose enough to avoid riding up, a good breeze would be a problem, never mind bending over. What worried her the most, though, was the sides of the shirt. The crudely enlarged armholes had encroached on the front, and especially the back of the shirt. Craning her head over her shoulder, she could see her shoulder blades clearly, and where the material flared back out at the bottom. A look down her sides revealed her hips were visible, as well as a large amount of sideboob. Looking down her front, she could see a bit of her breasts peeking out the edges of the holes, though her nipples still had a few inches of material covering them. The shirt was loose enough that the material wasn't drawn taut over her breasts, which at least meant her engorged nipples didn't make indentations in the front. She experimentally leaned forward, and found that the shirt hung well away from her breasts, easily enough to see them from the sides. As she straightened up, the shirt settled with her nipples precariously close to exposure, and she tugged the front of the shirt back over them. It probably wouldn't stay that way.

A different smile teased at Julie's lips, this one more erotic than the last, as her recent exhibitionist thoughts surged forward again. This shirt offered quite a few possibilities for fun. In her mind, Julie could hear the catcalls as she bent over, flashing everyone a good view of her most private spot, before sauntering off down the street, "forgetting" to adjust the front of the shirt. Her pussy nearly dripped at the thought, dashing a half-formed thought of taking one of the jackets as well. She'd take this shirt, and just it, and get home in it. Her mind, addled by lust, rationalized it as not stealing any more than she had to. This shirt wouldn't be noticed; a jacket would be. She snapped back to reality again, realizing her hands had wandered through the rather convenient holes to her slit and a nipple again, removing them as she **** herself back to the task of getting home.

She took a moment to put everything back in the bin and close it. She wouldn't want someone to realize something had happened over the weekend. As she did so, she lamented the lack of shoes in the bin. A pair of heels would have been fantastic, but even a simple pair of flip-flops would have been nice. With everything cleaned up, she padded towards the doors, pushing them open and stepping outside before she could change her mind, hearing them shut with a 'click' of finality as she stood upon the sun-warmed concrete in front of the school.

The only question now was how to get home. Maybe she could take the shortcut through the park, possibly teasing the delinquents who usually hung out there. Maybe she'd follow the streets. They were longer, but there'd be more people there, too. Another unbidden thought crossed her mind, of her teasing a bus driver or cabbie, or even a random guy, subtly flashing the goods to get a ride home. In the back of her mind, a barely-heard rational voice cried out against these things, urging her to forget these senseless fantasies, to just hurry home and be done with it.