Jump and Trust to Luck

Ofe Clodpoll was gliding through the Corellian capital in his convertible airspeeder on his way to join Dolt and the rest of the gang from university. He reflected on his boring student life. His time at the coveted Corellian Engineering Academy had taught him the curves and controls of every hull, nav-system, and repulsor engine in the CEC’s impressive shipyards but when it came to the curves and controls of his favorite subject, women, university life had utterly failed him. What in this universe, he pondered, has to happen for him to get some time with a gal?

He was reaching to close the transparisteel top against the cold spring night when the universe decided to drop an answer to his question right into his speeder.

This angel from heaven landed with elegance and grace, her toned legs curling her in the plasti-leather seat beside him, her wet skin shimmering in the city lights. The raven braid flowing over her shoulder came to rest between firm, well-formed breasts. Thrusting nipples strained against a wisp of a dress that clung to a body molded by years of conditioning. The wet fabric so transparent he could trace the outline of her dark areoles and see she wore only the briefest panties beneath it.

At least that’s the way this Ofe saw it. In reality he was hit by a falling, flailing drenched Fennec who crashed into his passenger seat like a plunging meteorite, waving a blaster and cussing like an apoplectic pirate.

Suddenly aware that against all odds, she was still alive, his jubilant angel pulled her savior in for a kiss of gratitude. Before she could stop herself, one kiss became a second and then more. Her lips were warm and full. Instinctively his arm wrapped around her, pulling her lithe frame to his. His hand traveling down her back to cup and squeeze firm buttocks.

His angel commanded, “Drive!”, and he punched the accelerator without conscious thought.

The flustered boy wasn’t even sure where they were when he realized his passenger was kneeling backwards in the seat beside him. Her braid and dress fluttered in the rushing air as she trading blaster fire with a speeder coming fast behind them.

“You drive like a spiced-up Hutt,” she screamed over the wind. “Lose them.”

Determined to not die and, more importantly, impress a pretty lady, Mr. Clodpoll executed a series of erratic jerks. He did not manage to lose their pursuer but he did manage to toss his un-seatbelted passenger unceremoniously about, first pitching her slim body into his and then back the other way, over and over.

One jostling move freed Fennec’s left breasts and she just as quickly slapped a hand over her nipple. She pressed and squirmed as she continued shooting but returning a boob to its proper place inside an undersized top while simultaneously firing a blaster and balancing on a swerving speeder was proving far too difficult. Before she could get that breast back in her top, the speeder jerked again and her other tit came free, eliciting a very un-mercenary-like, “Eep!” as she tumbled into the young man. She quickly cupped a hand over the newly nude nipple and hoped the driver was too distracted to see the show going on in the seat beside him.

The mercenary profession runs on reputation. No matter how bad things were, she’d be damned before she became known as 'The girl who rode through the middle of Coronet City with her tits out', but storing her jiggling flesh was getting complicated.

A quick bob of the craft tossed the unbelted assassin backwards out of the seat and onto the speeder's boot. She scrambled to her knees and starred back wide-eyed at her equally surprised pursuers. They could easily see her riding on the back of the speeder cupping her bare chests. Keeping with her bad luck, the snap behind her neck decided this was an excellent time to give out. With both hands busy on her breasts, Fennec could only watch in horror as her halter top fell loose.

To get her top back where it belonged, she’d have to grab each strap with a separate hand, leaving both of her tits exposed as she pulled the straps up and snapped them behind her neck, a process that took several tries when she was sitting still on the ground. It would take her forever in a bouncing, swerving speeder, provided the snap hadn’t broken altogether. Only once all that was done could she then reach down and slide her bosoms back beneath the straps. Through the entire process she would be giving both the men chasing her and most of a major Core-world city a good long eyeful of her breasts swaying in the rushing winds. No way she was doing that.

Those straps would be flopping in the cold wind for the foreseeable future.

At some point among all the tumbles and wardrobe malfunctions, her forgotten blaster had slid off the speeder to shatter on the street far below. Fennec was reduced to an unarmed, hapless passenger with only her hands to hide the fact she didn't want to face.

She had indeed become 'The girl riding through the middle of Coronet City with her tits out.'