Some things about her and the Released

Now's as good a time as any to have a little chat. Me and Dahlia, we've barely talked at all since we met. I don't know if she's got trouble expressing herself or if she simply sees no need to, but there's some things I'd love to find out. I start the conversation: "Dahlia."

She's alerted: "Hm?"

-"I was wondering... About a few things."

-"Like what?"

-"Well, first off, is that your real name?"

-"Of course it is! Is Lewis yours?"

-"Alright, sorry. I get it. I've just never met anyone before who's named after a flower."

-"Hm. My mom never told me why she chose that name. I wonder how she's doing right now..."

-"Hey, that reminded me: How long have you been released?"

-"Oh, uh... About... Two years, now, I think?"

I'm baffled at the thought. This lady has been living the life of a Released for that long? I wonder what it's like, since it's something I'm probably going to go through, unless I get myself killed before then.

I continue: "So, I don't mean to pry, but if you don't mind sharing how Phantom Window found you, I'd love to hear your story."

She looks unenthusiastic: "I'd like not to talk about that. It wasn't a happy time. The moment of Release never is. You?"

I think of how to best explain it, but then remember that a picture can say a thousand words, so I pull the crumpled-up piece of paper I found in my cubicle this evening out of the pocket of the discarded jeans that are on the bench next to me. Dahlia looks at it in anticipation, and I straighten it back into shape so she can see what's printed on it. She looks a little bit disturbed: "...Oh." I add: "Everyone at my workplace got their copy." She looks even worse off now: "...OH." I put the print away into one of the many pockets of my jacket and console her: "It's okay, that's all in the past now. Really, that was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me."

Dahlia seems awkward: "It's not so easy for all of us. Also, how long since your Release?"

I break it to her right away: "Actually, believe it or not, just earlier today!"

Now her face brightens up: "Wow, really!? I wouldn't even have known!" -she sits up straight- "I mean, the fact that you came up to me fully clothed weirded me out a little in the beginning, but I didn't know that was because you were recently Released. It felt like you were a Shackled who could somehow contact me himself. It was really off-putting, but I saw you were a good guy almost right after. I didn't mean it!"

I lift a brow: "Shackled?"

-"Oh, that's what we call people who aren't Released. Original, I know."

-"Who's 'we'?"

-"I meant us Released in general. I guess since yours was just today, you haven't gotten the chance to meet up with the others, have you?"

-"Others, you say. How many and where?"

-"Oh, you're gonna love this. About a hundred, in an apartment complex in Tribeca, close to World Trade Center. It's actually kind of a makeshift job, but we've grown fond of it anyway. We can live there without worrying about it being demolished or anything, because... Well, it's kind of complicated. It'd be better if you saw it for yourself. Wanna go?"

This is an another game-changer altogether. If I go there, I'll be joining a community. That always brings certain risks and rewards along with it. There may be a few bad apples in there somewhere, but also fortune and glory.

Dahlia looks at her shoes: "Of course, you don't have to, if you prefer being alone." -she brushes her tangled bush of hair on her head with her fingers- "Like me."

-"Hey, I'll think about it. Sounds like a fun place. We could also go to mine. It's in Newark."

-"So, you still wanna have a home of your own? I'm not sure if that's even possible, the Shackled might put it up for sale, thinking no one lives there."

Shit, that's right. I think I have to hurry there if I want to keep my stuff. Damn, I also need to go get my car. After both of those are over and done with, I just might go to that place in Tribeca. So many things to do... To ease my stress, I bring my hand down to Dahlia's groin and fondle her nethers, extracting a few moans from her. She grinds against the hand and the rest of my body like a kitten into its mother's teat. To think Dahlia is homeless is at the same time slightly frightening and kind of expected. Release comes with its limitations.

I take a closer look at Dahlia sweater-clad breasts, realizing I haven't given them much thought, putting my free hand over one of them to see what they feel like. Turns out they're wonderfully firm. Of course, she's wearing no bra either. I ask her: "Can you take off your sweater? I want to see your tits."

She looks straight at me and goes: "Sure." -doing exactly as I requested. About halfway into undressing, her two fleshy orbs fall free from their confinement and I get to see those tits in their full glory for the first time. Their areolae are big and adorably pink, begging to be licked. I survey the shopping arcade we're in: The crowd is growing sparser, suggesting it's getting pretty late, but there's still a few to show off to. All she has on now is her stockings and shoes. Dahlia gently swings her jugs side to side, revealing just how practical the sweater was in keeping them still. Not able to resist the sight, I embrace her and grope her all over, putting to work the hand that was massaging her pussy on her breasts instead.

Not a lot of guys are into that look of hers, that I know. She's all rough and tumbled, a little chubby, and her hair is a mess, but all of this only serves to make her adorable to my eyes. I kiss her on her nubby little nose, making her giggle, and then go down and suckle on her left nipple, the giggle trailing off into a moan. I've been so absorbed in the act that I didn't even notice that she had started fondling my cock in the meantime, hardening it right back up. I'm not really the kind to chase orgasms, though. A release is nice every now and then, but too much gets exhausting. I actually think I prefer this...

This kind of...

'Casual groping.'

Seems she prefers it that way as well. I'll let my dick be as it is for now, telling Dahlia while we pleasure each other: "I have a car parked about a fifteen minute walk away from here, I think we should go get it." She nods in agreement, as she usually does to simple requests like this. To show she's ready to go, she puts her sweater back on to calm her tits and stands right up, yanking me off the bench by my hand. I look back at my jeans where I put them, on the bench. I've checked their pockets; they're completely empty. Seeing no use to carrying them around anymore, I leave them behind. The novelty on walking around in public without pants or underwear on with my equally bottomless girlfriend is awesome to say the least.

Now, the original plan was to get to my car, preferably before the night comes. For now we will at least leave this shopping alley before it's closed, lest we get locked inside. We could still do something else here in Times Square before we make for the vehicle, though.