Reminiscence

"Umm...I had actually left my purse in the bathroom, and someone stole all my money." I could see disbelief on the counter-lady's face. Obviously. So much bad luck was often uncommon for mere mortals. So I scratched my head and I pleaded to her. "Can you please pay for these," I lifted my arms, "for me? Please. In return, you can keep my hand purse."

The lady looked at my hand purse. It was quite new. She considered the thought and finally agreed. I took out my car and home keys from the purse and handed it to her.

She smiled at me as I finally made my way out of the Walmart. Still having my hands tuck in by the sides of my t-shirt. And just as I was getting out, I snug my hands upwards, inside the t-shirt and got one hand out from the side...and well well, stupid me! I did the same with the other hand and--

TEAR!!!!

My t-shirt got torn!

Right from the left side. Ugh!

Panicking, I looked around in the parking lot. There weren't many people around. I hurried my way to my car and got in as I just sat at the driver's seat for a moment.

I needed a moment for myself.

My t-shirt was torn. And I just had one of the most humiliating experience of my entire fucking life.
But then... did I enjoy it?

The thrill of not getting caught. The fear of being naked. I actually liked that! Had I been an exhibitionist from long? I started remembering things. Long time ago, when I was young, I had to attend school while being commando because all my panties were apparently in the laundry. Even at home, I usually roam around naked, trying to take as much time as I can to get dressed for work. Was I an exhibitionist from long agone??

I rested my head to the seat.

And I began the car, time to go home.

Due to all these incidents, I was feeling an urge to touch myself. You know how...

But not right now. I continue moving through the road as my car progresses. But the feeling down there keeps increasing.
And ultimately I was like: "Fuck it!"

In one swift motion, I remove t-shirt and I slide down my shorts and remove them as well. The car is still going on. I'm still a few miles away from home. I take the longer route. I pass over the Golden Gate bridge as I tune in on the music playing in the car while still being naked. The sunlight caresses my body, coming in through the window, as I enjoy this best part of my life.

Soon, I reach the lane with my apartment.
It's a long lane with apartments on either side, with cars parked just by the road. And the road itself is a slope.

I park my car in front of my apartment and I look around. Clasping my breasts out of reflex. My heart was telling me to risk it and go out naked. But my mind was saying otherwise. There wasn't anybody around though. But that did not mean nobody would look through their homes.

To whom must I listen to?