Reading At A Park

Mary Elizabeth Winstead was currently reading a good book at a local park. The grass was green, the birds were chirping, and she was getting some well needed respite from busy Hollywood life.

Mary turned the page, scrunching her nose as it tickled slightly. In fact, everything tickled for just a moment.

She chalked it up to allergies. She really needed to go see an allergist.

Reaching up and twirling a lock of hanging brown hair, Mary refused to be broken entirely from her reader's stupor. It was a particularly good book. What would have distracted most people did entirely the opposite for Mary. She took in the sounds, smells, and feelings around her despite her deep concentration.

Which is why the rickety park bench she sat on was beginning to bother her. Mary shifted uncomfortably and briefly looked away from her book at lounging couples and parents with children on the grass or at picnic tables near a playground.

Perhaps she'd move. Just a few more pages, that's all.

Mary returned to her book for a few moments before shifting again.

Suddenly, a stabbing pain pierced her poor (and let's be honest, gorgeous) bottom. Mary took her feet off the ground and turned her body as she slapped a hand to her jeans.

Or so she thought that was what would happen.

What really happened was that Mary slapped a hand far luckier than mine to a perky and heart-shaped rear end without a stitch of covering to stop it from jiggling delightfully. Mary's brain seized as she lowered her feet back to the ground- and felt grass between her toes.

Looking down and with a great, sharp intake of breath, Mary saw why.

Clutching her book to her chest, Mary saw that it was indeed her only covering, for she was totally, stark naked!

Her hair was suddenly and quite noticeably tickling her bare shoulders, and her wonderful breasts squished happily against the large book.

She felt the breeze on the exposed expanse of her stomach and the park bench under her naked bum.

She felt a breeze between her knees.

All of this while she took in two long legs capped by cute feet (well pedicured and with toes painted pink), her wide naked hips and her own monstrous cleavage due to the vice-grip of her arms around the book.

Mary stifled a scream.

What the hell was going on?

Her large eyes darted around. She saw no sign of her clothes. She needed to get out of here. Fast, and quiet.

Mary began to get off the bench, but with a loud creak, first one set of eyes, then another, then a pointing child, then a disgusted old woman, then-

Mary did what any reasonable naked starlet would do. She screamed for real this time.