Stuck

Linda always prided herself on being practical. A hot summer’s afternoon, chores ticked off one by one, her light yellow dress fluttering against her bare thighs as she moved from task to task. It was a scorcher of a day and Linda felt that she needed to be free so the dress was her only clothing

She had just finished scrubbing down the windows outside when she decided to get herself a glass of water, she pushed against the side door but it was unyielding.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered, patting her dress for keys she knew damn well weren’t there.

Her eyes dropped to the bottom of the door. The old dog flap. The previous owners had fitted it and she and John had never bothered to remove it. She crouched, lifted the flap, peered into the cool kitchen beyond.

“Well,” she murmured, lips curling in a nervous smile. “Needs must.”

She hitched her dress higher and shuffled closer. The space was tight, but she was slim — surely she could squeeze through. She slipped one arm through, then the other, flattening her chest as she tried to slide her shoulders in. It was awkward, wood catching against her collarbones. She wriggled, cursed softly, pushed harder.

And stuck.

Her arms were through, her head pressed just inside, but her shoulders wedged fast in the frame. She couldn’t go forward. She tried, rocking side to side, straining with little grunts that only made her breasts squash against the door, her ample tits far to big to be pushed through.

Her heart kicked faster. “Oh, bloody hell…”

The position left her ass high, arched out into the sunlight. Her hem bunched at her waist from the effort, the fabric straining as her hips shifted. Each twist and jerk only dragged the dress further up until it clung just beneath her bottom. A few more **** wriggles and the last pretence of modesty gave way.

The hem flipped, the light cotton folding up around her waist and catching there. Her entire backside was bare, the round cheeks, the little crease where they met her thighs, the dark, neatly trimmed strip above her slit. She looked like something obscene out of a dirty magazine.

She gasped, realizing too late what she’d done. Her cunt and ass were completely exposed, the most private part of her body gaping open to anyone who might pass the side gate. She could feel the sun warming her bare skin, the breeze sliding between her legs.

Then the wind picked up.

The dress that had bunched at her waist fluttered uselessly, then lifted higher, tangled around her back. Now there was no covering at all. She was locked fast in the dog door, shoulders trapped on the inside, her entire lower half sticking out in the open, naked from the waist down.

Her face burned. Her thighs trembled. She whispered into the dark kitchen, her voice shaking, “Oh, God… what have I done?”

But the air caressing her exposed slit sent a traitorous shiver through her body.

And there, frozen in place, her humiliation just beginning, Linda realized she was utterly trapped.