No

None of them seemed to have seen her yet, so she turned back and scuttled down the street she had come from. It was still a real struggle to move quickly, but still covering herself with her hands, she darted into the relative obscurity of the alley from which she came.

She was panting. She could feel her heart fluttering in her chest as adrenaline made her whole body shudder. She couldn't walk all the way home like that. She couldn't handle it. She didn't think she had been noticed, but even so her embarrassment was almost unbearable.

Humiliation aside, walking home in just a thong was dangerous. In fact, Emma kicked herself for not realizing before just how dangerous it was. She had been damn lucky, in a way, that the mugger had only wanted her clothes. There are worse things than being robbed, especially when out like this.

If she walked all the way back, how many people would see her? it would only take one with untoward intentions...

No, she couldn't walk. What options were open to her though?

It was then that Emma had an idea; she could hitchhike. On the surface, it seemed just as embarrassing, just as dangerous, but it did also offer a number of advantages. It would be quicker for one, and she would only really have to be seen by one person. The danger was still there of course, but the fewer people who saw her, the less risk there was. Last but certainly not least, it would get her out of the cold. Emma had been continually shivering since losing her dress, and her arms and torso were pocked with milky white goosebumps. Her nipples had become so erect that the constant contact of covering them was starting to irritate.

Hitchhiking it is then, she decided. Instead of turning up the road and going right, she would turn down the road and then go left. That would take her to the coast road. This time of night there should still be the odd person driving down it, and it had plenty of laybys that someone could use to pick her up. It would still be humiliating, but all things considered, it was probably her best option.

For the second time that night, Emma poked a head around the corner of the alley to scan the street. Thankfully, it was empty.

She scurried out and down the street in that awkward way that modestly necessitated. Adrenaline made her shake the entire way, her body bursting with fight-or-flight energy. She took a left at the bottom of the road and came onto the coast road. This stretch, thankfully, wasn't street-lit in the way that earlier roads had been. That said, her **** paleness made her almost glow beneath the moonlight, a conspicuous slither of pale skin.

Emma began to walk along the road, ensuring to keep well off to the side. The noise of her heels and earrings didn't feel quite so loud out here. This area was not very pedestrianized, and so she was unlikely to see anyone, not in a car.

After walking for several minutes, a car came past. It slowed, and relief started to fill Emma. I'll be home soon, safe and warm, and this will just be a bad dream. Her relief was short-lived, however, as the car did not slow to a stop. Instead, the car crawled past her, and she saw two leering men's faces glued to the windows. They honked the horn at her, making her jump. She flushed red, but kept walking, hanging her head low. Somehow, she thought that breaking eye contact might make her feel less exposed. It didn't.

It was only after the car had passed that Emma realized that she had not signaled to it to stop. Idiot, she cursed internally. It might have been for the best though. They didn't seem like the best people to be picked up by.

Emma rearranged her arms so that one forearm covered both her breasts. It meant raising her shoulder awkwardly but did free up one hand to raise the hitchhiker's thumb at passing cars.

Several more cars passed by, with Emma waving her thumb at them with increasing desperation. Each time a car passed, she felt her face flush and her heart pound, but it was certainly better than them walking past in person. Some people leered, some kept their eyes firmly on the road, and one even seemed to speed up past her.

With each car that passed, humiliation slid lower down her list of concerns. Of course, she was embarrassed, but that embarrassment had become a constant, painful baseline. While bad, she felt confident it wouldn't get any worse. The cold however was a different matter. She could no longer feel her fingertips and was now constantly shivering, her teeth chattering together as she walked.

Just then, a dark sedan came up behind her. Emma raised a thumb, trying and failing to catch a face behind the darkly tinted windows.

"Bugger," she cursed under her breath as the car drove past. That must've been, what, number 10? Her disappointment was short-lived, as she saw the sedan pull up into a layby no more than 50 meters Infront of where she was. Eagerly, Emma sped up towards it, though found covering her breasts with one arm allowed for even less speed than cupping them.

The sedan was dark and gleaming. The license plate told her it was less than a year old. Emma approached the drivers' side door, and the tinted window rolled down to greet her.

Inside was a man who looked, for lack of a better description, completely average. He had brown hair and brown eyes, a medium build, and a forgettable face. That face gave nothing away as he looked up at her from behind the steering wheel.

"Hello, hi, thank you for stopping, could I come in, please? My dress was stolen and I'm very cold, please may I have a lift home? And if it's not too much trouble, do you have anything in your car I could put on? A jumper or anything?" Emma huddled her shoulder as she spoke. She could feel a cloud of warmth wafting out of the window.

The man looked at her blankly for a moment. He was in gym shorts and a t-shirt and looked slightly out of place in such a nice car.

"Show me your tits."

Emma was shocked by the sudden vulgarity. She set her jaw angrily.

"I just want to get home," she reiterated, a distinct edge to her voice. "I don't want you getting the wrong idea, I wouldn't ask at all if I wasn't in such a predicament. I didn't choose this; I don't just go around without any clothes on looking for people to show m—"

Emma was cut off by the sound of the window being raised. As it came up, the buffeting of warm air dwindled back into the cold of the night. It really is bitterly cold, she lamented.